Ask Harriet

I saw "Ask Harriet" during its brief run and I actually liked it, though I might've changed my mind if this sitcom had run a bit longer.

One thing that irritates me about most of these cross-dressing movies and sitcoms is that these guys never need to put any effort into acquiring female disguises: they just *happen* to have a handy supply of women's clothes, wigs, make-up and extra-large female shoes. In 'Some Like It Hot', the two male musicians leave the booking agency with no money and nowhere to live ... then they suddenly show up at the train station wearing complete women's outfits (which fit them!), plus luggage: how'd they get all that stuff, and where did they change clothes? At least in 'Mrs Doubtfire', Robin Williams needed some time to develop his female identity.

"Ask Harriet" was slightly atypical for a cross-dressed comedy, because male actor Anthony Tyler Quinn (what a bizarre name!) was actually somewhat passable as a faux female, although unusually tall and even taller in high-heeled boots. As "Harriet" in a long brunette wig, Quinn wore short skirts and knee-high boots that would've been quite sexy on a genuine woman. But where did tall Jack find pantyhose that fits him? I know petite women who can't find pantyhose that fits them.

There are some clichés here: macho sport columnist Jack Cody gets fired, but he becomes a better man by becoming a woman when he stops chasing skirts and starts wearing them to become agony-aunt advice columnist Harriet. Of course, the audience need to be assured that cross-dressing Jack isn't ... um, you know ... one of THOSE guys, so he continues to leer at the attractive women in the newsroom from behind his falsies, while they (the women, not the falsies) open up to 'Harriet' with some girl talk.

Most of the characters and dialogue were awful. In one episode, Ed Asner played a successful newspaperman who's also an idiot. Huh? Asner's usually convincing, but he wasn't believable here as an idiot.

The only person aware of Jack's double identity is his geeky little co-worker Ronnie, who clearly enjoyed controlling situations in which he's able to manipulate Jack into becoming Harriet. There was an annoying subplot (which never got very far) in which Ronnie and a very sexy woman (a real one) who works with him in the newsroom are attracted to each other but neither can work up the nerve to tell the other. Ronnie seemed to get more arousal from using Jack as his personal dress-up doll.

Female impersonation as comedy will usually get a quick laugh but is more difficult to sustain in a longer narrative. 'Some Like It Hot' worked because the cross-dressers were in a dangerous situation: they had to become live women to avoid becoming dead men. In 'Ask Harriet', Jack wasn't in danger of anything except losing his wig: I was never convinced that this elaborate sexual masquerade was the best career option for a male character who kept claiming to dislike dressing up as a woman. That was another cliché: we get the usual line about how it sure feels good to get back into men's clothes. Right, we get it, fella: you hate wearing women's clothes but you wear them anyway. Straighten your wig.

Rating: 4 out of 10. If you want to see a man dressed as a woman, either for comedy or for kink, there are better options elsewhere.

When you hear the name "David Cassidy," you might think of the television series that bore his name: "David Cassidy: Man Undercover" which briefly had him doing detective work around Los Angeles.

But what you'd more likely think of was a sitcom titled "The Partridge Family," where David's actual stepmom, Shirley Jones, played his mom and the "Family" sang a bunch of songs, one of which, "I Think I Love You," actually hit Number One on the Billboard Hot 100.

What you'd probably NEVER think of is THIS: "Ask Harriet."

The year was 1998. Mr. Cassidy was creating a new sitcom with Jonathan Prince, who played the boss to the Diana Canova character on the record label sitcom, "Throb".

The brilliant concept these guys came up with was this: Obnoxious, chauvinistic sportswriter (Anthony Tyler Quinn) named Jack Cody (and was that name a slam of, or maybe tribute to, David's late father, Jack Cassidy?) gets canned from his newspaper job by his ex-girlfriend Melissa (Lisa Waltz).

Instead of slinking away into the darkness, he comes back to apply for the job of advice columnist, but, of course, he can't show up as "himself," so, he goes in drag as a woman named Sylvia Coco. Where's "Harriet?" That's just the byline for the column in the paper.

Of course, Sylvia is accepted and completely convincing as "her" self to everyone in this newspaper office, which creates all sorts of comedic mayhem and even fools Melissa into thinking she's found a new, wonderful friend.

The parallels to the Robin Williams/Sally Field film "Mrs. Doubtfire" are pretty obvious, as "Sylvia" has to keep the charade going in order to keep her job and stay close to Melissa, hoping to win her back. Willie Garson played a pal who was in on the secret, and there was an issue of attraction to Sylvia in the office, leading to more wacky circumstances, notably coming from the owner/publisher of the paper, Ed Asner, who didn't get used nearly enough for this to be a success.

Damien Leake's role on the show was a homeless man who camps out in front of the newspaper offices and who seems to be a Zen Master and kind of Greek Chorus for the characters. Does knowing that help or hurt the concept?

A show like this would be dead in the water, now. Drag queens are seen as "groomers" and harmful by some (especially since Jack had a young daughter played by Jamie Renée Smith).

New York plays a part because Jack... er, Sylvia needed a wardrobe and cosmetics and there's no place like the fashion capital of the nation to find stilettos that fit a size 10 foot, and to get a wig that looked like real tresses.

Also, they tried to dress up Sylvia in as many frocks as Fran Drescher was wearing on "The Nanny," which made me wonder where Jack got the budget on his advice column salary to swing that. Really, the production stills for this show are funnier than the sitcom dialog!

David Cassidy's one on-screen claim to fame as a connection to this show was singing the theme song. Unfortunately, for him, audiences of the day were saying, "I Think I Don't Love You," to "Ask Harriet."

And that is not really a good thing in this case. The show was at best half way decent but it wasn't worth keeping around. Besides the horrible time slot that doomed it (Thursdays at 8:30), it tried tackling gender issues. The whole premise was laughable and I don't mean because of clever writing or good acting. Basically this was a mediocre mid season replacement quickly put out of it's misery.