Episode 51: The Crying Child

Hutch’s lady, Carol, a schoolteacher, enlists their help to try to save a battered child from further parental abuse.

Carol Wade: Dee Wallace, Janet Mayer: Linda Dano, Sgt. Peterson: Rosalind Cash, Guy Mayer: Meeno Peluce, Eddie Mayer: Michael Lane, Franklin: Al White, Vikki Mayer: Nancy McKeon. Written By: James Schmerer, Directed By: Georg Stanford Brown.

QUESTIONS AND NOTES:

Even though the series as a whole has always tackled difficult subject matter, Season Three is marked by more “big picture” episodes and socially relevant themes, perhaps after gaining enough popularity to establish itself as a cultural lighthouse of sorts and perhaps, I’m guessing, in reaction to the criticism of its violent content (criticism that is, and was, damaging to the series’ artistic integrity). Followed by millions, respected by few, producers may have felt it was time to inch out onto the limb of Controversial Subject Matter, possibly in the hope of gaining credibility. Gay rights, child abuse, political asylum, African-American injustice, divorce fall-out, global pandemics, and the powers of the media are just some of the topics tackled head-on. All this points to a more external focus that results, in many ways, in a lessening of emphasis on Bay City and its gritty, often eccentric street life. 

There are many instances during this series that make us realize what a dynamic and changing time the late 1970s was. Youth culture may have undergone its transformation a decade earlier, but this series is set in the rigidly institutional old-boy world of the police department, judges’ chambers, city hall and criminal emperors who wear a suit and tie at nine o’clock in the morning. Things here are slow to change and the prevailing politics are conservative. But now things are shifting, and Guy Mayer’s case nicely illustrates this. Like the gay-themed “Death in a Different Place”, even acknowledging the existence of domestic battery is a triumph of sorts. There is a strong element of frustration with the way things are, politically, socially, and legally. The show makes it clear an abuser can also be a victim. Family members are either absent or unable to speak; Carol fears being fired if she accuses a parent and is somehow proven wrong. The child himself has withdrawn into self-blame and silence. The rising divorce rate and its attendant custody battles have added fuel to the fire. The whole episode is about the gray areas of life, things being more complex than previously thought, even down to this detail: the detectives’ surprise that macho Eddie Mayer is a potter, a predominantly female-oriented art-form. Times are changing, and fast.

The fact that this episode begins – nonsensically – with the scene from “Nightmare”, including the apropos-of-nothing comment about Lisa’s birthday party, emphasizes how ad hoc and lazy this series can be.

In “Tap Dancing”, Starsky complains about stopping a robbery while dressed in their disguises as cowboy and an “Arab with funny shoes.” This time, Hutch is the one who crabs about stopping a robbery dressed as Laurel and Hardy. The guy they arrest – a single dad with two kids, pulling a sad snatch-and-go from a local shop to feed them – sets up the theme of this show: what people will do to save their family, even at the cost of dignity, legality and community standing.

The guys process this arrest and go on to their appointment at the school. But on the way they’re talking enthusiastically about pulling out milkshakes, hamburgers and fries – one assumes this is for the children of the arrested father at the convenience store. Another example of things not being as they seem: the shoplifter as victim of the larger, more nefarious crime of economic deprivation.

This is the most overt depiction of the Oliver Hardy-Stan Laurel routine we see during the series. Of course it’s Hutch who plays the bossy, clueless Hardy and Starsky as the intelligent, put-upon Laurel.

Hello, script continuity person: Guy calls Hutch “Ken” when he hasn’t been introduced to him. 

Funny how Starsky and Hutch are about to do a play for third graders – not the most discerning of audiences – and yet take practicing so seriously they do it when left alone for a few minutes, even though it seems this is a much-loved, much-honed performance already. All the little nuances are there, no need to go over it again. And yet they do – and it all involves a formalized, stylized version of their actual relationship, being grabby with each other, teasing, taunting, and setting each other up for maximum derision which ends in a torrent of giggles.

What’s the point of the rehearsal at the school? I understand how much visual appeal it adds to have two cops who “look like clowns”, as Guy succinctly puts it, but on a practical, narrative level, why go all the way to the elementary school to practice in an empty classroom, days before the actual event? And why in costume?

Do Starsky and Hutch have a moment of contemplation as they remember Hutch’s play backhanding of Starsky in front of Guy before they knew of his abuse?

Hutch’s relationship with Carol is non-romantic to the point of being chaste. They have zero chemistry together. What, with her sweet little scarves and earnest uprightness, is she too goody-goody for Hutch’s liking? When we come to the later episode “Hutchinson for Murder One”, you can see how far to the dark side he’s willing to go.

More “seventy-five per cent” material: Dobey jokes, “I thought you wanted to get an early start on that two-day leave to Tahoe.” Hutch says to Starsky, with maximum guilt, “Maybe next month, huh?”

Gold star for direction: Georg Sanford Brown’s camera shows Starsky and Hutch approaching the house from behind the lacy curtain, emphasizing their journey behind the veil of suburban oppression.

When Starsky looks around the living room, he very carefully lifts the lid on the decorative container and looks inside. You just know he’s looking for evidence of drug use.

Janet Mayer misdirects suspicion in a series of clever ways: she immediately condemns child abuse as “vile”, then preempts suspicion by naming herself as a suspect by saying “why would I work, so I don’t have to put them in a daycare center, if I were abusing them?” (although this statement makes absolutely no sense, the children spend so much time alone after school, which has become more or less a daycare, because she works.) Add to that the giant crucifix in the living room, and the obvious, needy love Guy displays as he runs in and hugs her. Then, when Guy’s marks are revealed, she enlists the children’s help in pointing the finger at their father and dissolves into attractive tears. Notice how Starsky and Hutch keep looking at each other throughout this scene to gauge the relative truth of the matter and to see how the other is processing the information. How many of us have someone we trust so completely as to be both mirror and magnifying glass during the tense negotiation through life?

You can excuse Hutch for the fundamental mistake of questioning a child in front of a parent. Procedures for this sort of delicate interview are not well understood, even to this day. There’s a lot going on here, from guilt and shame to an older sibling’s complex peacemaking tactics, including a child’s ability to fabricate, a psychological minefield.

Both child actors are good in this episode but Nancy McKeon’s glassy silence is pretty incredible.

There’s an interesting dynamic at work when Starsky and Hutch return to the school a few days later when Guy has suffered even more horrendous physical abuse. Starsky bolts from the room and Hutch, after reassuring the children, follows him out. They don’t talk a lot, and from the outside their interaction seems both brief and bitchy. But how it looks is not how it is. Rather than stay behind strategizing with Carol, which would be the practical thing to do, Hutch is compelled to solidify, or coalesce, the experience with his partner. Even if nothing overtly happens, it’s only when they sit together can both understand what is happening and gather the necessary energy to put it to rights. It’s an unconscious act and one Hutch would vigorously deny, if you asked him.  

The best line in this episode is when Starsky says, “we have a lot to learn.” It’s a humble admission from someone used to being in charge and having firm opinions about how things are.

Lazy set dec: we are forced to conclude these are a bunch of pretty slow third graders because the same lesson is on the board every time Starsky and Hutch are there.

What is Starsky and Hutch’s knowledge of “Juvenile Hall” based on? In “Little Girl Lost” Hutch can’t stand the thought of Molly being there, and here they can’t stand the thought of Guy and Vikki there, to the extent they put Carol in potentially troublesome or even illegal situation by having her take the children to her house.

It’s great when Starsky says they might have to give Mayer “a polygram test”. What, and see what kind of music he likes? He actually says “polygram” twice. It’s a Glaser miscue and nobody cares.

Interesting that throughout this terrible case, Starsky is preoccupied with finding Franklin, the hapless shoplifter with the two kids, a job.

The arrest of Eddie Mayer involving the over-the-shoulder toss is a lovely bit of choreography, and look how relaxed they are when they do it. Mayer is at least four inches and a hundred pounds bigger than they are.

The truth is discovered, as it often is in this series, in a long silent look between Starsky and Hutch. When Mayer’s work records show he must be innocent of the first beating, Hutch murmurs, “well, who else?” and the two of them stare into each other’s eyes – time itself seems to stop. It’s a great moment with real magic – you can almost hear them speaking to each other – and often repeated throughout the episode.

Why do they take Eddie Mayer to the child welfare office rather than the police station if they’ve arrested him? This may be a procedure issue I’m not aware of, but it seems to me he should be taken down to the station and booked, and then questioned in an interrogation room with the requisite recorders in place, rather than taken to this rather informal environment.

It’s extraordinary how both Glaser and Soul are able to change their body language – and by doing so change the atmosphere in the room itself – when they learn the truth about their combative prisoner. Both turn from powerful adversaries to gentle allies the moment they turn back to Eddie and Sergeant Peterson. Look how Hutch lowers himself into the chair, carefully, cautiously, like a man facing a wounded lion he wants to help. Starsky is even more subtle than that: he changes his demeanor completely just by standing there. Emmys all round!

When Eddie explains why Janet is abusive to the kids, we believe it when he describes her nightmarish childhood. But when he draws the conclusion that she “hates all men”, which is why she focuses her rage on her son rather than daughter, why does this seem wrong somehow? I’m no child psychologist, and I certainly don’t claim to understand why mothers abuse their children, but it’s difficult to see how Janet would punish her young son for the crimes of her father. He’s a baby, still, prepubescent and unthreatening. If I were Eddie I’d suggest she lacked control as a girl and now seeks to exert that as a woman in the only way she knows how. Maybe she suspects her ex-husband favors his son and so hurting that son is a way of exerting revenge. Maybe Guy reminds her of herself at that age. Whatever her reasons, I don’t think hating men has anything to do with it.

Does Starsky tell Janet Mayer she’s going to be charged with felony child abuse and “attempted murder”? Glaser slurs the line and it’s hard to hear. If so, this is a dramatic charge and one they’ll find nearly impossible to prove.

It’s ironic this episode is called “The Crying Child” when Guy doesn’t cry, not even once, and Vikki doesn’t either. The only person crying is the abuser.

While filming, one of the child actors became upset during a scene, and natural-dad Glaser ended up taking it upon himself to reassure all the children and make sure they were okay during the rough shoot. The original script included in the tag the bit the guys practice at the beginning, performed at a party for Guy where it’s also revealed that his father is engaged and will get custody of the children.

Tag: it’s fun to watch Glass-Half-Full Starsky try to cheer up Pessimist Peterson. He displays a typical cop’s attitude at the close of a case: it’s over, move on. And Starsky is particularly good at compartmentalization; it’s Hutch who’ll lie in bed that night and worry. A police officer’s job is done when the handcuffs slap on, but for social workers, lawyers, psychiatrists and correctional workers the work is just beginning. Peterson and Starsky seem to have a little thing going and perhaps it led to dinner and drinks that night. 

Clothing notes: Hutch looks great in his khakis and green leather jacket with the puka-shell necklace. Starsky wears the same thing in two back-to-back episodes: plaid shirt (unusual for him), black leather jacket and jeans, plus his Chinese coin necklace. Hutch appears to have borrowed this shirt in later scenes.

Tags: Dee Wallace, Georg Sanford Brown, Linda Dano, Meeno Peluce, Nancy McKeon, Paul Michael Glaser, Rosalind Cash, Starsky and Hutch