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Ally McBeal needs some defending of her own
Elliot B. Gertel doesn't think much of the latest from David E. Kelley and the Fox Network.
Well, maybe not quite yet. But one can certainly add to the telltale
signs of smugness and cutesiness a certain repetitiveness and
clinging to format, especially in his approach to Jewish themes.
In the newest Kelley series, Ally McBeal, starring Calista Flockhart in the title role, tracks the trials
and tribulations of a female lawyer with her share of quirks and
insecurities. Here we see some Kelley formulas becoming somewhat pat.
In a recent episode, Brenda Vaccaro guest stars as a Jewish woman,
devoted to her Conservative synagogue, who is seeking a Jewish divorce
(get) from her husband. Kelley's old series, LA Law, dealt with
the same theme in a somewhat respectful, but also wantonly skewed,
manner.
In the current incarnation of a Kelley series obsessing on a Jewish
divorce theme, the rabbi becomes the foil for Ally -- or is it the
other way around? Ally lets the rabbi know in no uncertain terms that
she regards Jewish divorce "customs" -- if not Judaism itself -- as
primitive. After her confrontation, her horrified client relates that
the rabbi has dismissed Ally as a man-hater, a mocker of Judaism and,
yes, as a "lawyer."
As it happens, the client's recalcitrant husband eventually dies. So now
the problem is a recalcitrant rabbi. Ally has offended the rabbi to the
extent that he refuses to officiate at her client's marriage.
Ally is, of course, off to see the rabbi and to "make nice." But then
the sparks fly again. The tension makes the rabbi -- well, legalistic.
"You came here as her agent, acting within the scope of that agency.
Therefore, your actions run to her accountability," he says, clearly
still miffed. In other words, his gut reaction to conflict is to become
the lawyer-from-hell. Ally responds in a downright childish manner: "Is
common sense pitched out by that thing [the yarmulke] on your head?" If
Kelley was trying to suggest "parity" of inappropriate responses to
argument, then he failed.
Obviously, Kelley relied on someone who is at least minimally fluent in
the Jewish laws of agency as they apply to divorce for his research. But
it's quite a stretch to suggest anyone -- a rabbi or layman -- would
apply those guidelines to someone exhibiting obnoxious behavior!
What is unmistakably clear is that Kelley is not at all concerned with
possible canards in his banter. He is simply setting the viewer up for
the punch line -- namely, that the flying sparks between the Ally and
the rabbi are more than rhetorical. Ally senses -- and is ultimately
proven correct -- that the rabbi likes her. Even after he agrees to
perform the wedding for her client, Ally wants to know what "pleases"
him about her. Soon after their second encounter, the rabbi turns up in
Ally's office unexpectedly. Dejectedly, he tells her that since he
became a rabbi, he's hated how all those in whose circles he travels
have tiptoed around him, and that he finds Ally's "willingness" to be
obnoxious, and to treat him like she would anyone else, "refreshing." He
goes on to ask her to be his date for her client's wedding. Ally,
noticeably shocked, is rather blunt: "What would G-d think, you showing
up with a Methodist? Besides, you know, three weeks is a long-way off
and I might be in a relationship by then, G-d willing. That's my G-d."
Kelly has Ally reveal her prejudices and put her foot into her mouth in
a way that makes her realistic and endearing to a growing number of
viewers. But whence this depiction of the rabbi? Is he presented as so
glad to be treated like one of the boys that he can't see that Ally's
behavior is not so much to his benefit as to her own detriment and out
of her insecurities?
Does Kelly mean to suggest that lack of insight is a syndrome of
clergyhood?
Ally, of course, brushes the rabbi off -- at least initially. Later,
though, she chooses to accept his offer. Speculating, as she does, that
there might be some chemistry between them after all. Why? Because this
man-of-the-yarmulke offended her so much and thus broke through her
"indifference" to most men.
Ally also decides that the rabbi will be one of the men she will juggle
-- one of the balls she keeps in the air, as she puts it -- in her
latest resolve to be a "man eater." When a co-worker reminds her that
the rabbi is a member of Jewry's Conservative movement and, therefore,
"can't intermarry," Ally replies: "I don't convert on the first date ...
I'm only looking for a little Thursday night fun." She goes on to say
that she has her handsome but sloppy-eating D.A. boyfriend on Tuesday,
the rabbi on Thursday, and Chicago Hope (another Kelly series) on
Wednesdays. "You know," she says, defensively, "I do have a life."
She has the life Kelly gives to her, of course. The question is: What is
Kelly's purpose in all of this? A growing number of women admire his
depiction of the female psyche, both in Ally's dialogue and in her
thoughts, which are expressed in voice-overs. Admittedly, there is a
whole lot of creativity with the camera. But why the rabbi on Ally
McBeal? Why does Kelley cross a line respected in most TV drama and
comedies (the cases of Seinfeld and the now defunct Almost
Perfect, aside) and depict rabbis as dating non-Jews?
Perhaps Kelly is of the belief that canards and stereotypes are broken
if one allows characters to say and do the most unexpected and bizarre
and even stereotype-confirming things, and that this is what endears
characters to viewers or maybe makes characters "human" enough that
people will want to identify with them and grow themselves? I suspect
that I give Kelly too much credit in positing this angle, for in a
subsequent episode of Ally
McBeal, he briefly and gratuitously
raised the dating-the-rabbi issue, for nothing more than (low-key) shock
effect. But even if his motives were so noble, he might consider that
when characters (and writers) trample over basic commitments, whether in
religion or in manners, they are never admirable or endearing. True,
they might be amusing for the moment, but in the long run, they will
little more to offer than recycled vaudeville acts, which titillate the
audience once or twice, but rather quickly become tired fodder. If Kelly
cares a whit about artistry and style, he will consider this.
Contributing writer Elliot B. Gertel is JWR's resident media maven. He is based at the National Jewish Post and Opinion.
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