Quantum Leap: Season 1, Ep. 3: “Star-Crossed”

LEAP INTO: June 15 – 17, 1972

Sam (as Dr. Bryant): What drew you to physics?
Donna: I guess I want to know why things happen to us.
Sam: Don’t you think you have a choice?
Donna. Do you?
Sam: Well, I used to. I’m not sure anymore.

Sam Beckett leaps out of Tim Fox as he’s sliding into home base – and leaps into alcoholic womanizing literature professor Dr. Gerald Bryant.

Sigh. This is just Part 1. I’m halfway through. Part 2 to come tonight.

EPISODE 2: STAR-CROSSED

Episode 2 begins with anyone’s version of The Actor’s Nightmare. You find yourself onstage, you have no idea what play you are doing, what your lines are, you have had no rehearsal, you are invariably the lead – an audience is there – and you have to just GO. Sam is happily sliding into home base in the last leap, and shivers with blue electric light … only to find himself standing in front of a classroom, having just written the word OBSESSION on the blackboard, he is smoking a pipe, and he is in the middle of a lecture. On what? He has no idea? Who is he? No clue. He stands up there, discombobbled, stunned, and terrified. And the googly-eyed smitten class, all girls, are no help. At least not at first. They just sit there, in misty silence, beaming up at him, lovelorn. It’s a clear nod to the classroom scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark – and very clever. Sam is too shook up at first to immediately take note of the afros and headbands and peasant shirts among the class. He is more concerned with SURVIVING THE NIGHTMARE he has found himself in! He fumbles, bumbles, his pipe falls out of his mouth, the classroom titters in fluttery excitement. A ridiculous classroom conversation ensues – with Sam having no idea what he’s talking about … it dawns on him that they are discussing Wuthering Heights at one point … one of the girls in the class says something about Charlotte Bronte being “sexually suppressed”, and suddenly we get a disgrunted voiceover from Sam Beckett: “Great. Four of my least favorite cliches. Headbands, bell bottoms, flower power, and English lit.”

There’s usually (usually, not always, but usually) a chord of SNARK in this show which is one of the reasons I find it so endearing. It’s not too precious with the past … but it also honors that which should be honored. I like it because it’s not hostile to the military, at ALL, for example – it doesn’t take a naive silly stance towards it (and if you look at Bellisario’s production record, it’s obvious that this is a pattern) – but it’s also honest enough to know that there are actual PEOPLE involved, in all events in history – which, necessarily, make things messy, and perhaps more complicated than the pundits or those with an axe to grind would have you believe.

Tommy mentions in his post that this is obviously a show by Baby Boomers – living through the events of their lives that had meaning. You know, the second half of the 20th century. To my taste, the “kiss with history” stuff is the least effective parts of the show. Now this is not always true. I like the “kiss with history” stuff when it is more whimsical, when it has no historical import – outside of art and pop culture, that is. Like when, in a couple episodes from now, Sam ends up suggesting to a young Buddy Holly that “Peggy Sue” might be a catchier title for his song than “Piggy Sue”. And Buddy thinks a bit, nods, and says, “All right!” That, to me, works. It doesn’t take itself too seriously. But sometimes the “kiss with history” stuff wanders into Forrest Gump territory – and I believe I have made my feelings on that piece of shit movie perfectly clear. Or who knows, maybe I haven’t. So here comes another round of agonized emails about it – from people who seem genuinely hurt that I not only did not like the movie, but despised it. hahaha They beg and plead with me to give it another shot, they write despairing TREATISES on why that movie was profound … I get it, I get it, lots of people loved that movie – I didn’t. I don’t despise people who loved the movie – but I’m not changing my opinion about that debacle. Can we please move on?? Okay, let’s not open up that can of worms. Sorry. Let’s keep it light here!! I don’t despise the Quantum Leap kisses with history (and, to those of you who don’t know – that refers to the moments in certain episodes when Sam trips into some event of historical importance). So there’s a “kiss with history” in this episode (check out the dates Sam leaps into and put 2 and 2 together) – that, I don’t know, I don’t think they needed it. It didn’t ADD, in my opinion. It also didn’t take away – but I think something like that needs to ‘add’ – like the Buddy Holly moment did. That moment was a huge payoff – something Sam had been working up to the whole episode – so when it happens, there’s a satisfying “ahhhhh” that happens.

But, as always. I am quantum leaping ahead of myself.

The story of this leap is simple, but what is interesting about it – and perhaps inevitable – is that the powers-that-be of this series immediately got to the JUICE of the concept. If you were leaping around in time, in your own lifetime … wouldn’t you be concerned with yourself and your own journey? Wouldn’t you immediately be interested in changing stuff in YOUR past that you wanted change? You wouldn’t just accept an altruistic role instantly … it would take some time. “Star-Crossed” is Sam’s confrontation with his own past – which he has already been gearing up to – from the first episode, when he was trying to reach his own father. Sam Beckett is on his OWN personal journey – and that’s why I find him to be such a likeable character, and someone that I wouldn’t mind spending time with, week after week after week. That’s the key to a great series. You need a character you can RELATE to. We, in the audience, ARE Sam. We’re not Al, who remains distant a bit – who has a whole lifestory outside the Quantum Leap chamber that we hear bits about, but never really enter into. Al’s journey, of course, famously, becomes of the ULTIMATE importance in an episode in Season 2 … and fans of the show will obviously know that the entire series ended with a resolution for Al. How interesting. How unbelievably perfect. Talk about an “ahhhhhhh” moment! But, in general, we relate to the show through Sam. We can’t help but imagine how we would deal with his predicaments, how we would fare in such a project. And Scott Bakula, who pretty much embodies the term “likeable”, is our way into this at times difficult concept (and I’ve gotta say it: that “likeability” is a rare rare quality. Simon Cowell is no dummy when he says to a contestant on American Idol, “You’re not the best singer, but you’ve got something else – and that’s the likeability factor.” Think about all the actors you know. Not too many just exude niceness. Without schmaltz. I’m not saying they should … every actor has different gifts. Christopher Walken is fantastic and he doesn’t exude niceness or likeability. But in a character like Sam Beckett – in a long-running television series – you NEED a guy that you just flat out LIKE. This is something that is hard to capture … and makes me realize why Don Bellisario – who created the show – said that when Scott Bakula came in and read for the part, that his (Don’s) heart started to beat faster the second Scott started reading. He knew. This was the guy. And if you’ve seen Bakula in interviews, then you know he’s not “acting”. He just seems like a nice person and is able to convey that – without ever mugging or being a “moral conscience” bore (which a lot of other “nice” actors do) – You just flat out like the guy.)

In Star-Crossed it comes out that Sam was once in love with a woman named Donna. They were both physicists, involved in cutting edge time travel research. They were in their early 30s. They dated and he proposed. And Donna ended up standing him up at the altar. (This all comes out slowly, since, of course, Sam’s brain is swiss-cheesed and the details are not at his disposal immediately). She didn’t stand him up at the altar because she’s a horrible manipulative person. It was because she’s a damaged soul, and could never commit to anyone – because of being abandoned by her father when she was little. But we learn, through this episode, that she was Sam’s only real love. She was “it” for him. So in Star-Crossed the opportunity arises: if he could change her mind … even if he’s meeting her years before they actually met in real life … if he could somehow help heal that old wound … then maybe when the time was right, in the future, when they met … she WOULDN’T run away.

Not to get too personal, but if I could go back in time to April 29, 1994 I would. I don’t walk around like a wounded person anymore. I’m fine. But if presented with the opportunity? To hear his voice on the other line – a voice that had a question in it … a question he was afraid to ask … and instead of ignoring it (not out of being manipulative and awful – but because I was afraid) – confronting it? Speaking out the truth of the moment? Bringing it out into the open? Saying, “What is it you want? Why did you call me today?” Oh, how I wonder what he would have said. And how my life would be different now if I HAD said it. So I’m with Sam in this regard: even though it’s “against the rules” of the project – as Al says: “the time-traveler cannot take advantage of his position” … I would be like Sam. I would say to Al, “Fuck THAT. I’m picking up the phone on the morning of April 29, 1994 and I’m going to change history.” Of course there is also the rule of “unintended consequences” – which Al warns Sam about in this episode as well. If you heal Donna’s daddy issues, that’s great – awesome – but that might mean that she would find love with another man BEFORE she met you. Sam is willing to take that risk. And you know what? I would be too. That’s the God’s honest truth.

Let’s go back to our episode.

Sam finished up class with the lovelorn ladies (quick note: a bell rings, saving him from embarrassment – meaning class is over … but, uhm, do bells ring in college classes?? I don’t think they do!) – and walks outside, still trying to figure out where and who he is. (The fact that he is wearing a corduroy suit and a silky shirt with a Peter Pan collar should give him a clue!) A breathless young lady rushes over to him to talk with him. It becomes immediately apparent, first of all, that her name is “Jamie Lee” (her name is written all over her notebooks) – second of all, that she is in love with the character Sam has leapt into, and third of all, that she is batshit crazy. She speaks in hi-falutin’ poetic tones – about “you give me life”, etc. – and Sam is struggling to keep up. Is what she just said a literary reference or … is she just nuts? Help??? As he’s dealing with Jamie Lee, it is suddenly as though he is struck by lightning. He sees someone. Across the way. Walking along. And it is as though the breath catches in his throat, leaving him stunned momentarily. He can’t believe it. We don’t know yet the backstory – we don’t know who she is … but we know that Sam knows her. That she is important. That she is, to some degree, “his”. But he’s not himself … he’s this Dr. Gerald Bryant character … so he can’t go running after her. She wouldn’t know him. She wouldn’t know him anyway because it would be another 10 years before they met! I mean, imagine that! Imagine the self-control it would take!!

That’s another reason why Sam (Scott Bakula) is so likeable (and, I think it’s not too much to say: ultimately a tragic hero). He must abdicate his own ego, he must step aside from his own concerns – time and time again. the “swiss cheese” effect certainly helps – it means that his sense of his own helplessness does not grow exponentially. He seems to come to each “leap” fresh.

But instead of running after Donna, he goes home to his house. With Jamie Lee breathlessly leading him by the hand.

Again, a nod to the art direction and set decorators. Professor Bryant’s house is a perfect example of an academic’s abode. The knick-knacks, the controlled clutter, the choice pieces bought while on sabbatical in display in the front hall … Jamie Lee, drags poor Sam into his own house – he keeps trying to tell her that there should be no “fraternizing” between professor and student (“that’s not what you told me last night,” giggles Jamie Lee) – she rushes off to the kitchen and then Sam has his moment with the Man in the Mirror. I gotta give props to the guy who plays the reflection, John Tayloe. Often, the reflections are just seen once … to give us context – but in this one, Sam keeps getting a glimpse of himself throughout the episode, a reality check … and the actor who plays the REAL Dr. Bryant – is hysterical. A hoot. He really has to do a bit of acting here. He has to look like that, but he has to embody Sam Beckett – who is horrified at the boozy ascot-wearing nincompoop he is now supposed to be. Sam has a very funny moment, staring at his bleary-eyed complexion – where he furiously rips off the stupid arty scarf he’s wearing, saying in disgust, “You have GOT to be KIDDING me.” But it’s John Tayloe who has to act that, since it’s him we’re seeing. It’s very very funny. Jamie Lee, alarmed at her paramour talking to himself, comes back to him, and caresses him, gives him his pipe – which makes it even worse. Sam can’t get over his own reflection, his own silly outfit, the fact that a co-ed is feeling him up … he is horrified. HORRIFIED. We know what a “prude” (Al’s word) Sam can be. So to be this lecherous dude, taking advantage of his students and his position over them – just to get laid … Sam is beside himself with contempt. Jamie Lee is quite an aggressive young lady, but also quite insane. Her whole life is about poetry – she wants to LIVE in a great romance novel … and obviously the real Gerald Bryant encouraged this for his own nefarious reasons, unaware that he was tapping into a rich KEG of nutso-ness.

Al appears in the living room – while Jamie Lee is shoving her heaving Barbara Cartland cleavage at Sam. Speaking of set decoration, not sure if you can see it in the smallness of the screenshot below – but please take a look at the framed poster lying propped up next to Al. Can you see the words on it? But isn’t Dr. Bryant a literature professor? Yes, but he has a poster lying around of Albert Einstein. That’s the kind of subliminal subtextual detail that makes this show really good. If you get it, great – if you don’t, nothing is lost. But it’s there – and it’s kind of mysteirous and cool – seeing as this boozy professor is now being inhabited by a physicist. Al, in his deadpan way, tries to guide Sam through the nightmare of dealing wtih Jamie Lee – since Sam is too disgruntled with Dr. Bryant to really play along. Jamie Lee rhapsodizes about Juliet. Sam scoffs. Al interjects, with his blue-light star pin gleaming through the room, “Juliet committed suicide Sam. We don’t want to go that way.” So Sam starts to play along, get into the game … tries to talk reasonably to Jamie Lee – and finally sends her off to make some tea so he can talk to Al.

Al is filled with probabilities. He is also wearing shiny silver loafers and periwinkle blue socks, but we’ll let that pass. “Ziggy says there’s a 99.9 % probability that you can leap out of here right away …” But Al didn’t count on Donna. Al doesn’t even know about Donna. Sam interrupts the inevitable Ziggy monologue and says, “No no no … I know why I’m here.” Al is confused, in his dear curmudgeonly way. Sam explains. He saw Donna. He can have a second chance now! He can maybe catch Donna when she’s young … and right the HUGE wrong that is now in his life – meaning him and Donna not being together. Al, of course, vetoes this. And strongly. With many classic Dean Stockwell gestures. He gestures up a negative STORM. “No! No – no – no – no – no.” Apparently Al already got in trouble for giving Sam personal information like his last name in the other leap – and his job is hanging by a thread. So – NO.

But we see another side of Sam in this moment. The guy with the tenacity to get 6 doctorates. The guy who was determined enough to get Project Quantum Leap off the ground. He says, “I’m here to get a second chance with Donna. And nobody can stop me – not even you.”

Next scene: the campus. Sam and Al stroll along the lanes, and they are still arguing. Dean Stockwell is gesturing up a storm. He’s such a GUY, know what I mean? A little toughie. “Sam, you made the rules. The time traveler must not take advantage of his position!” Sam is like, “That’s a stupid rule.” Or whatever. Al continues to reiterate that the pressure is really on the project and “Weitzman” is threatening to pull the plug. Sam racks his brain for a memory of Weitzman. “Short fat guy wearing knickers?” Al replies, “Tall skinny guy wearing a stovepipe hat.”

hahahahahaha I love this script. But Weitzman becomes the threat back in the present-day. Sam isn’t seeming to really understand the pressure Al is in. Al has already been reprimanded, and now the entire project is being called into question. Sam gets it, I guess – but he just doesn’t care. He is on his way to The Rathskeller – the little bar on the campus – where he has learned that Donna works as a waitress. The “bar” is a perfect college bar set – half cafeteria, half rock club – It doesn’t quite know WHAT it is. There are psychedelic posters on the wall – and a brief entryway involving black light – which turns poor Al into a glow-in-the-dark ghost. His entire outfit was black 2 seconds before, and now … not so much. There are posters of Woodstock on the wall … and yet it’s a kind of calm atmosphere, not too wild. Or, as Sam mutters when he looks around, “Pretty straight for the 70s.” This is the 1970s at a conservative women’s college. So of course little BONES are thrown at things like Woodstock and Jim Morrison … but there’s also a poster of Beethoven on the wall, and people are just eating cheeseburgers and drinking Coke, as though it’s Happy Days. Again, all of this is great “period” detail. Because, naturally, each decade was not monolithic across the nation! 1968 in Haight Ashbury was probably very different from 1968 in the Texas panhandle. Not totally different – fashions still spread across the land in the same way they do now … but the FEEL would be very different. And 1972 in the East Village would be very different from 1972 in Ohio at a women’s college. The set decorators in this little “bar” understood that very well. Nice details.

Sam excitedly points out Donna to Al, and Al is horrified. “Oh my God. It is her.” He has no idea how to stop Sam from doing this, he’s trying to keep him on track. Apparently, in the real history – Dr. Bryant and Jamie Lee got married and it was a disaster. Al mutters, “It was a nice intimate little shotgun wedding. 12 gauge, I think it was.” Sam is supposed to stop them from ruining both their lives. But Sam stares at Donna. How young she is … how much she has ahead of her … how much he loved her once … This, in the black-light entrance, is where Sam remembers that Donna stood him up at his own wedding. “It had something to do with her father …” he struggles for more detail. At some point here, Al disappears. He just can’t take it. Sam doesn’t get the pressure he’s under so BUH BYE.

Sam tentatively sits at a table, and Donna comes to serve him. She knows him (or Dr. Bryant) – because she’s taking one of his classes. A word here: Donna is played by a very young Terri Hatcher. I’m not a huge fan of hers – well, that’s not true – I really enjoyed Lois & Clark – I just think she has turned into a kind of scary skeletor version of herself. I understand growing old is difficult for women in Hollywood – but Terri Hatcher shows that desperation more openly than others. But God love her – here’s what I wanted to say. I’m not saying she’s a brilliant actress but I am saying that based on her performance here – it does not surprise me at all that this woman has never been out of a job. Seriously. She is STILL going. Based on the simplicity and sweetness of her persona here – and how she doesn’t overact – she has one or two truly beautiful moments … it is not surprising at all that her career has been very long-lasting – especially for a bright young pretty thing like she is here in Quantum Leap. Bright young pretty things in Hollywood are a dime a dozen. That’s why I’m always like – Girls, ENJOY IT. Enjoy it while it lasts! Like Mischa Barton. Hon. You were great in Sixth Sense. You were in a hot series. You have some tabloid cache. But you have got to FOCUS if you want to still be in this game in your 40s. Focus on the right things, hon! It’s about the work! Because when you’re 38 … 40 … 42 … you had BEST have your priorities straight, because work dries up for people then. Especially women.

Sam and Donna have a short interaction. She is kind to him, but you also can tell that she knows his reputation, and guards against it. “Dr. Bryant, I am perfectly able to get an A in your class by doing the work.” Sam goes for the gusto and says, “I’m not what I appear to be …” He doesn’t say his name, because that would be meaningless for her … he just tries to convince her that he is NOT what he looks like. Tells her to look into his eyes and she’ll see “another soul”. (Again, kudos to Scott Bakula for pulling off such a corny line. He has a lot of corny lines in the series … but his sensibility is so nice, so normal – that he somehow gets away with it without making me want to gag). He is talking quite literally here – and I think that’s why it works. I have the face of a washed-up booze-hound. But I’M IN HERE. Someone else is IN HERE and if you look – you’ll see it! Donna does look, and for a second or two – she does see something. She steps back, startled. Goes back to work. Just a moment, but enough for Sam to hold onto. She SAW.

Maybe this will work!!!

In the next moment, poor Sam is accosted by a Neanderthal. Poor actor may be a Rhodes Scholar, but he’ll never play one looking like that! Turns out that this guy is Oscar – Jamie Lee’s boyfriend – and he is here to beat the shit out of Dr. Bryant, who has stolen his girl. Sam tries to reassure Oscar – no no no she wants YOU … she’s trying to make you jealous … She doesn’t want ME! This turns into kind of a deeper conversation, though, when Sam tells Oscar (who very threateningly throws darts at a dartboard near Sam’s head) that Jamie Lee needs someone to be romantic with her. She’s DYING for it. “Maybe you should read her a poem!” Sam says in desperation. Oscar says he DID read her a poem and he starts to recite, “There once was a man from Portland …” hahahahaha Sam tells him limericks don’t count. He’s fighting for his life now – because Oscar is getting more threatening – so Sam blunders, “No, no, not limericks! You need to read her Sheets and Kelly … ” Sheets and Kelly???? HA! Oscar is all about how “horny” Jamie Lee makes him, and Sam tries to give him advice about how to romance a girl. “That’s mush!” scoffs Oscar. “To guys, yes, it is mush,” Sam replies – “But to girls it’s romantic!”

Okay. So Oscar’s gonna give it a try.

Sam has just done his part to make sure that Bryant and Jamie Lee don’t get married. He has barely been focusing on the job at hand at all, caught up as he is in the Donna thing. His advice to Oscar is, of course, cliche – but when you think about the two people involved – nutso Jamie Lee and meathead Oscar – you think: it just might work!

Part 2 to come tonight!

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