The Nielsens: July 16-22, 1984

These days, pretty much everyone walks around with a TV in their pocket, and there are so many viewing options that pretty much every show — no matter how popular it might be in the current definition of the term — is broadcast for a niche audience. But for decades, the small number of networks and the relative lack of options for rewatching anything meant that Americans watched a lot of the same stuff at the same time — and even programs that have largely been forgotten today drew what would now be considered massive ratings. In this recurring column, we take a fond and often somewhat mystified look back at the Nielsen ratings from long ago. This column is usually only for paid subscribers, but week's edition of The Nielsens is free.

The Haunting Passion
Younger TV viewers will never know the misery of summer television during the pre-cable era. With all the most popular series shut down 'til fall, the networks used the summer months to burn off unwanted programming, air live events, or simply fall back on repeats. This week's ratings contain examples of all three — particularly the "live events" part of things, with all three major networks devoting numerous hours to coverage of the Democratic National Convention and the official start of Walter Mondale's doomed campaign.

We've got plenty of repeats, too — including this rerun of The Haunting Passion, a 1983 TV movie starring Jane Seymour and Gerald McRaney. I don't know a ton about this thing, but I feel like everything all of us need to know is contained in its synopsis, which reads as follows: "Neglected by her sportscaster husband (Gerald McRaney), a woman (Jane Seymour) succumbs to an erotic seaside ghost."

EROTIC. SEASIDE. GHOST. Fuck you, Hallmark Channel. The Haunting Passion is the real deal. Clearly, viewers agreed — even when presented with their second helping of this glorious spectral cheese, they gave it a 13.4 share, good for No. 6 in the ratings. Can you blame them?

Midnight Express
We hear a lot of grousing from certain types about how permissive this country has become what with all the genders and the woke and everything, but things could get pretty wild in Reagan's America too. For example, here we have ABC taking a legendarily ruthless depiction of one man's harrowing odyssey through the Turkish prison system and airing it as their Sunday Night Movie — using a cut I can only imagine must have been edited into near incoherency, but still. Gather 'round the TV, children, and let's find out what happens when you try to smuggle hashish out of the Middle East!

Gimme a Break!
From Alice Nelson and Edna Garrett to Tony Micelli and Lynn Belvedere, the TV shows of yore were absolutely packed with families who relied on the tireless efforts of live-in housekeepers to keep their homes running smoothly. Most of those folks actually received salaries for their work — but not poor Nell Harper (Nell Carter), who moved in with the Kanisky family after promising her dying best friend she'd take care of her husband and children.

[studio audience laughs]

Not only did Nell set aside her singing career to run the Kanisky household, which included crabby old police chief Carl (Dolph Sweet) and his three daughters, she also ended up becoming a foster mother to a street urchin (Joey Lawrence) and his little brother (Matthew Lawrence), all while fending off various romantic suitors in the name of remaining single until the children were all out of the house. That's commitment right there, and we should all be so lucky as to have friends who'd alter their entire lives just to keep their promises to us. On the other hand, Nell was seen accidentally vacuuming the family fish tank in the opening credits of every episode, so maybe the Kanisky family were the ones making the real sacrifices in this bargain.

In the summer of '84, Gimme a Break! was coming out of its third season as a middlingly popular portion of the NBC schedule, although its ratings would improve steadily during its fourth and fifth seasons, during which it helped anchor a Saturday night lineup that really started taking off with the help of The Facts of Life, The Golden Girls, and 227. Since this week's episode was a repeat, all I can tell you is it netted a 10.5 share, and that it definitely was not the episode featuring Joey Lawrence in blackface. (That one aired the following season.)

The Master
One part Kung Fu Carradine whitewashing, one part Incredible Hulk drifter vigilante drama, NBC's short-lived The Master starred Lee Van Cleef as aging (and quite white) ninja master John Peter McAllister, who's traveling from town to town in search of his long-lost daughter; along the way, he's persuaded to take on a hotheaded protege (Timothy Van Patten) after the two of them team up to help Demi Moore save her dad's airport. I'm not making any of this up, but it's okay if you don't believe me; few people tuned in to watch The Master during its brief 13-episode run, although the episodes were later repackaged into a series of "movies" whose unintentional hilarity made them easy targets for Mystery Science Theater 3000 and the like.

For most intents and purposes, The Master concluded its run in May of '84, although the network finally burned off a pair of leftover episodes in August. Given that basically nothing was on this week, it is both understandable and humorous that a Master repeat came in at No. 20 with a 9.7 share; we can't be sure exactly which episode aired, but we can safely assume it was deeply, deeply silly.

The Rousters
Oh my goodness. I had no idea this series ever existed until right this minute, but boy am I intrigued: The Rousters starred Chad Everett as Wyatt Earp III, a carnival bouncer who wants nothing to do with his family legacy but is hounded by his shotgun-totin' mama (Maxine Stuart) into doing right by his grandpappy and bounty hunting across America. These two goofballs are aided in their quest for justice by Wyatt's brother Evan (Jim Varney!); meanwhile, Wyatt is also dating a goddamn lion tamer (Mimi Rogers!), who's the daughter of his boss (HOYT AXTON!)

Springing from the mind of Stephen J. Cannell, The Rousters was positioned as a can't-miss hit that was supposed to help NBC knock The Love Boat out of the top spot on Saturday nights — the network even sprang for a theme song performed by Ronnie Milsap — but those dreams were quickly crushed by embarrassing ratings. Matter of fact, this episode of The Rousters — the series finale — was one of the few bits of original scripted television that aired this week, but audiences still couldn't be bothered; it attracted only a 9.6 share, tying with repeats of Mama's Family and Falcon Crest for the No. 20 spot.

W * A * L * T * E * R
The Master and The Rousters were largely unloved, but they both did better than this "special presentation," which was CBS' polite euphemism for "unsold pilot of a MASH spinoff we changed our minds about at the last minute."

A sort of object lesson in how most supporting characters are destined to remain supporting characters no matter how popular they might be in the context of their original series, this would-be show was supposed to follow the post-Korean War adventures of "Radar" O'Reilly, the mousy fellow whose wide-eyed innocence offered a necessary contrast to the weary cynicism of his cohorts. Unfortunately, it was severely miscalculated from the start; not only was the original MASH spinoff, AfterMASH, something less than a ratings giant, but the WALTER concept called for the poor little guy to be left by his new bride and plan his own suicide before becoming a rookie cop. (Burghoff was 41 the year this aired.)

According to legend, these 30 minutes of programming only aired a single time in the Central and Eastern time zones. Thank goodness for YouTube — and don't feel too badly for Burghoff, a legitimately fascinating individual who's had an incredibly diverse career.

Goodnight, Beantown
Although he'll forever be best known as the guy who played David Banner in the aforementioned Incredible Hulk series, Bill Bixby had a really interesting television career, kicking around the dial as a series regular and guest star on a loooong list of shows while working concurrently as an impressively in-demand director as far back as the early '70s. Of course, he also endured his share of failures, including Goodnight, Beantown, the ill-fated CBS series that sought to create rom-com magic by pairing him with Mariette Hartley in the story of two reluctant co-anchors on a Boston-based nightly newscast.

Although Hartley was nominated for an Emmy, and the supporting cast included George Coe and future star Tracey Gold, viewers never really showed up for Beantown, a situation which probably wasn't helped by CBS dithering with the show — after it aired its first five episodes in the spring of 1983, it didn't begin its second season until October of that year, and by January of '84, the TV reaper had swung his scythe. Understandably, this mid-summer repeat of a long-canceled series was not a ratings winner, netting a 7.5 share and coming in at No. 43.