Season 1, Episode 1, "Pilot"

So, here’s the pilot episode of Blossom, and more importantly, the pilot episode of my blog!

I watched Blossom for about a year when it was first in syndication and already canceled, mostly since this was an era when you watched TV because it was there, and cat GIFs hadn’t been invented yet.

I’m calling this “Blossom UnWHOAed” because it’s the most obvious reference and because the URL for Blossom UnFlowerHatted was already taken.

I’m basing this review on the pilot episode posted on YouTube, which can be found here, and to my knowledge was not actually part of the syndication package for reasons we're about to see. Notes on any changes between this recording and the original airing can be e-mailed to 1990.

Season 1, Episode 1, "Pilot"

We open with Blossom’s theme song by Dr. John, which after a season or two will be the most enjoyable part of the show. Then they'll get rid of it so they can give more screen time to that English lady who's in everything and a couple of darling five-year-olds. Wikipedia tells me “My Opinionation” was substituted later here for the DVD release and that originally the theme song was “My Prerogative” by Bobby Brown, and it’s researching little details like this that make you know you’ve wasted your life.

Fade in. Blossom’s video diary. This was probably meant to be a framing device for the show, but I’m pretty sure we never see it past the first season, except for the final episode. I guess back in 1990 it was a kids’ fantasy to have a camcorder, especially for the ones who had a team of writers in their 40s to express their thoughts.

Immediately we’re supposed to believe that Blossom is wise beyond her years, mostly from her cadences, because certainly nothing she says is very wise. Ever. When she’s not learning about life and love, I guess we’re supposed to believe she’s possessed by an unfunny version of Jackie Mason.

So, the first hook. Blossom says that in the videocassette of her life, the rating has thus far been G, “but that might change” because she has her first crush. That’s kind of cute, and I forgot that this show was a sort of introductory course on puberty or something.

And this first scene pretty much sums up the main problem with Blossom, both the series and the character. If Blossom is supposed to be wise beyond her years, where’s the conflict? Does she dispense that wisdom to her lowly family? No, she actually learns little life lessons. Which is fine. But if she’s constantly learning, how is she wise beyond her years? So there are essentially two Blossoms: the struggling teenager, and the wisecracking old Jewish comedian who takes cheap shots at Ted Koppel.

Except that unlike the actress who plays her, Blossom Russo isn’t Jewish, and even though half of her family is about to be recast, she’s supposed to be Italian. The Russo family expresses zero Italian qualities or cultural markings, and is obviously only named Russo place to glide over the fact that Mayim Bialik’s Jewishness might not play for a national audience. Oy vey. Or Barone.

From here on out, I’m going to keep a tally of the Pop Culture references Blossom and company make in each scene. At least in the pilot, this is limited to celebrity name-dropping, and if the clothes, hairstyles and old school sitcom stench don’t tell us already, the year is 1990.

Pop Culture References: Gene Hackman, Michael Caine, Mel Gibson, Ted Koppel

So in the middle of her video diary, Blossom hears her parents fighting, and goes downstairs to spy on them.

Oh God, I knew the mom in this wouldn’t be Melissa Manchester, but I forgot that anyone but Ted Wass ever played Nick. He’s not called Nick here, but it’s not important, because this scene is unbelievably grating. And not just because Fake Nick casts a shadow over Fake Maddy's face every time they're standing in the same shot.

It reminds me of an improv group’s impression of an 80s sitcom. These poor actors were coming from a climate where Joanna Kerns and Alan Thicke were looked up to professionally, so I’ll give them some slack. I just hope these two unfortunate souls didn’t stick to this too closely, because studies show that most people who looked up to Alan Thicke went on to become Bible-pushers or musicians who rip off Marvin Gaye.

So Fake Nick and Fake Maddy are having an argument, with dialogue that the writers of Good Morning, Miss Bliss would have found tacky. Fake Maddy isn’t getting enough sex, it turns out, and suddenly we're to believe maybe this is a different, more mature kind of sitcom, which is totally supported by Blossom's being unseen while she hides in plain sight.

Blossom goes upstairs to talk to Joey about it, but he’s called Danny here. Or Donny. Joey will eventually become the bizarre amalgamation of several terrible sitcom characters, part Cody Lambert, part Joey Gladstone, and part Urkel. But here he's just an annoying teenager, which is somehow worse from a TV show perspective but actually pretty true to life.

It’s interesting to note that despite Donny's horribleness, Joey Lawrence had at least eight years of professional acting experience at this point.

Anyway he’s been making out with Kelly Packard, who I’m sure used this 30-second appearance on a pilot that would be completely retooled on her acting reel. Because how else do you land a gig like California Dreams?

Blossom chases Kelly Packard out so the producers can demonstrate Bialik and Lawrence’s lack of chemistry together, and they talk about the possibility of Fake Nick and Fake Maddy getting a divorce. They surmise that maybe Fake Nick is having an affair with Mrs. Young, his secretary, even though by calling the character Mrs. Young establishes that she would be married, too.

There’s a quick edit to Blossom meeting Mrs. Young, the timing on which isn’t terrible.

What is terrible, however, is Mrs. Young’s late 80s wardrobe. I wonder if womens’ businesswear from this period was so gaudy for the express purpose of having their bosses not flirt with them, like Peggy Olsen's revenge or something. After Blossom grills her, Mrs. Young tells Blossom about the kinds of men she's interested in, because apparently not even the actress playing Mrs. Young realized that generally women are married when they have that prefix.

I'm not sure cosmically how or why Kelly Packard and Mrs. Young have the exact same pose, and I only realized it after I did the screen caps.

Blossom barges into Fake Nicks’ office so she can immediately renege on confronting him about the divorce. She covers by talking about chores or something, but the only thing I can concentrate on is that Fake Nick never actually calls her Blossom, only the nickname “Ace,” like this scene was shot before they settled on a name for the character or the show.

Pop Culture References: Kirk Cameron

Hey, it’s Six! A slutty best friend for the ages.

She and Blossom hang out in the Russo kitchen, which I’m one hundred percent sure was later redressed for the Pinciattis’ kitchen on That 70S Show.

Blossom comments on Six' unusual name and Six says her dad named her that because “that’s how many beers it took.” This joke has stuck in my head obviously because it would have even been unbelievably filthy if this show aired on HBO, but also because I’m now remembering this pilot was cut up a few seasons later for a moody flashback episode. It was probably in the fourth season when they really started to run out of ideas, and so NBC could run a promo for an episode of Blossom where the kids were cute again. They cut out the scenes with Fake Nick and Fake Maddy, because otherwise Blossom would have been all, "Hey, remember the time my parents were played by different actors?" which sounds like something out of Borges.

Jenna von Oy has made a career out of looking younger than the age she plays, but her dialogue here makes her sound decades older, like she's some bitter old lady who’s spent forty years seducing sailors in the back of a bar. I’ve never actually watched Sex and the City but I’m pretty sure it’s about four Six Lemueres in their fifties.

The boy Blossom was talking about in the opening scene calls, and they set up a date. Blossom and Six scream excitedly, giving NBC a soundbyte for promos for years to come.

Pop Culture References: Daryl Hannah

Family dinner. Oh god this makes me miss Melissa Manchester, even though I don’t think we ever get a scene like this when she comes on in a few years.

So, my tally of dated pop culture references, that I’ve been doing this whole time? Fake Maddy actually makes a joke about this trope, when she mentions Stevie Winwood. Blossom and Donny don’t get the reference, and neither do I, and I’m not looking it up. And that’s the joke. So if the writers were aware of this as a trope, why did they keep doing it in the straight dialogue? These references were dated by the time I started watching in syndication, which was only about five years later.

There’s some talk of Catcher in the Rye, with the clear implication that Blossom the TV show is meant to be some kind of analogue to it, because the only thing Holden Caufield really needed in life was an easily impressed studio audience.

Fake Maddy warns that the language in Catcher In The Rye is racy, which of course is the fucking point of the book, though I guess to Don Reo’s credit, this is something a suburban housewife with no other attributes would say. Blossom retorts that she's no stranger to racy language since she goes to public school in Los Angeles! LOL! This is probably my least favorite kind of joke, especially when it’s said by a child, because what frame of reference does a kid have to say such a thing?

Donny asks if Anthony can have dinner with them and Fake Nick explains that the part of Anthony hasn’t been cast yet, and besides Anthony can’t eat with them because he’s staying sober after spending 1989 drunk in a ditch somewhere and they don’t want to hinder his re-assimilation into the family by inviting him to do anything with them.

We get some stupid jokes about Donny being a man slut, which are already tired in his second scene. This is a great way to pitch a series you're hoping will run five years. Then again Donny's the only one in this scene other than Blossom who won't be re-cast, so what do I know.

Blossom slyly investigates her Fake parents’ marital troubles. She's able to squeeze out that Fake Nick and Fake Maddy are meeting with Barry Sloan, whom Blossom recognizes as the family attorney. Knowing the premise of Blossom, we're all aware Blossom’s parents will be divorced very soon, and Blossom reaches the same conclusion.

Oddly, however, Fake Maddy for most of this scene has looked pleasant and content. Either something’s afoot, or Fake Maddy is such an evil bitch that she can fake a nice dinner with her soon-to-be-ex-husband and the children she’s about to wildly abandon.

With divorce imminent, Blossom drifts off into the very first dream sequence of the series. I'm pretty sure the first season had a dream sequence in every episode, giving Blossom the chance to interact with the likes of ALF, Phylicia Rashad and Estelle Getty, because these are the kinds of characters a teenager in the throes of puberty fantasizes about, gender irrelevant.

So, a fantasy sequence! This might make up for everything so far. On Saved By The Bell, even the bad dream sequences were always fun, even if it was an episode about Jessie.

But wait, they’re phoning it in. Blossom’s dream sequence is just some dude reading off the lines of a divorce judge, in audio only. TV shows are expensive I guess, and they really needed to cut corners on a pilot that took place on a total of two sets.

Pop Culture References: Stevie Winwood, J.D. Salinger

Blossom and Six meet in the Russos’ living room to recap the episode so far. Someone in the audience actually claps when Six mentions on of their friends’ dads ran off with another guy. Man, the things that used to be racy!

Wait, they’re not just recapping. Six is going to lurk on the staircase while Blossom has the boy over, which makes sense because it’s not like Six has been established as a character who can’t stop talking or overreacting to the smallest thing. It's not like last we saw her, she was squealing at the prospect of some generic boy.

Speaking of some generic boy, Blossom’s date arrives, and it’s Justin Whalin, one of the 90s’ premiere bit players. He spent a few years oggling Teri Hatcher on Lois and Clark, so I guess it wasn’t all bad for him.



The two teenagers chat uncomfortably on what’s supposed to be date, but per network rules they don’t immediately jump on each other like dogs in heat. Besides, if Blossom gets pregnant in the pilot, her baby would also be wise beyond its years, and God knows we can’t have yet another character like that until at least the fifth season.

So the boy asks if Blossom will be his steady girlfriend, even though they’re only a minute and a half into their first date. Blossom refuses, to everyone’s surprise, but I guess that just demonstrates how wise beyond her years she is.

And she refused him without the aid of a joke about keeping Kosher or something. Character growth!

Pop Culture References: Madonna, and Sylvia Plath, because apparently Blossom is a hundred years old

Oh, God, finally. Anthony’s always been my favorite character, I guess because when I was younger I really wanted to be a recovering alcoholic some day.

As much shit as I’m giving Blossom, it was gutsy to have a three-camera sitcom about kids where one of them was a recovering alcoholic. Plus Michael Stoyanov is cool as fuck. He's sort of like if Fonzie were played by a Jewish guy. Wait.

Anyway, it’s Anthony, and he’s back from the gutter at the ancient age of 20!

Not even he’s immune to the wise beyond his years trope, because an entire year of partying has taught him all sorts of things, like how to name drop Keith Richards, Tom Waits, and Elvis in the same conversation. Apparently he spent 1989 smoking fatties under the Oldies rack at Sam Goody, which is a spinoff I’d pay money to see.

Anthony has a serious heart-to-heart with Blossom about how he’s one hundred percent clean from drinking and addictive substances now, while he sips coffee straight from the pot.

Anthony and Blossom overhear Fake Nick and Fake Maddy in the living room. Blossom spies on them again, and it seems like things are fine, which is strange because it’s almost the end of the episode. In case you're counting, this makes the third instance of someone spying on two other characters' romantic enganglings in twenty minutes. If it continues, I'll start a tally of that, too.

Pop Culture References: Keith Richards, Tom Waits, Elvis Presley

The next morning Blossom finds Fake Nick and Fake Maddy canoodling in the kitchen, and she confronts them about the divorce. She covers for repeatedly spying on them by saying something about reading The Bible, and now this is getting ridiculous. For all the trailblazing this show gives itself credit for, they couldn’t admit their lead actress was Jewish, even when they give her a Jewish comedian’s sensibilities? At least it's handled better in the series.

Anyway, Fake Nick and Fake Maddy reveal they were meeting with their attorney not to discuss a divorce, but rather to draft their wills! Everything's fine, honey! What a merry mix-up!

Wait, what?

I’ll ignore that this was the actual resolution to the story, because this kind of bullshit ending was the sitcom standard at the time. I’ll also ignore that this was no doubt from an earlier point in the show’s development, when NBC was skittish about a family comedy where a mother of three skips town.

The issue is that later in the series, scenes from this pilot, where everything turns out okay, were used as flashbacks in the “real” Blossom universe. The Blossom who actually had her mom skip town recalled about half of these scenes as really happening. And not that Blossom’s emotions and interactions would be much different under the circumstances, but from a storytelling perspective, it’s just really weird that these scenes were eventually incorporated into the main timeline.

So, do the scenes that appear in both this pilot and the regular series represent a momentary convergence between two parallel universes? I wish I were wise beyond my years so I could figure this out mathematically, and simultaneously work in a joke about how nobody uses turn signals anymore.

Blossom returns to the camcorder to wrap out the episode. She throws out a line about how she doesn’t understand why women open their mouths when they put on mascara, and in this pocket universe where her mom didn’t leave and her milquetoast family remained intact, I guess we’re also supposed to believe that most observational comics come from perfect nuclear families.

And to add insult to injury, Blossom closes out the episode with a joke about River Phoenix. That’s a good sign.

Pop Culture References: River Phoenix

A flawless Hollywood production from start to finish.

Pop Culture Reference Tally: 14