Dial File: Mockery is the message on today's TV

WARNING: Self-Pitying Baby Boomer On Board.

If you're of a certain age and believe (as I do, or I wouldn't write this column week after week) that TV -- its distortions, exaggerations and misrepresentations notwithstanding -- reflects our ever-shifting cultural Zeitgeist, it's hard not to feel like the world has irrevocably flip-flopped.

We've been a jaded, ridicule-ready America for years now, while the innocent optimism of yesteryear lay dying, dead and decomposing in the America of Howard Stern, Internet porn and presidential sexcapades.

The national expression is no longer a contented smile (the '50s) an anguished grimace (the '60s), a hedonistic glint of the eye (the '70s) or a greedy grin (the '80s). It's a smirk.

Nothing new there, but for me, a series of TV-related deaths and rebirths has sealed that scenario in cement -- like watching the casket cover slam shut over the corpse.

A quartet of sweet baby boomer icons -- Roy Rogers, Robert Young, "Buffalo Bob" Smith and Shari Lewis -- took their final bows recently, a stark reminder that the largely innocent, irony-free TV past in which many baby baby boomers were reared is really in the past.

Meanwhile, variety shows, also a cherished chunk of decades past -- think Milton Berle, Ed "Stoneface" Sullivan, Sid Caesar, Perry Como, Lawrence Welk, Dinah Shore, Dean Martin, Carol Burnett, the Smothers Brothers, Tom Jones, Tony Orlando and Dawn, Glen Campbell, even Sonny & Cher -- have made a mini-comeback of sorts with a trio of cable entries, all suffused with, in varying degrees, a mean, mocking tone.

Enter irony and derision. Exit innocence and sweetness. And don't let the door hit you on the fanny on the way out.

Now we've got Comedy Central's "Viva Variety," which reminds us in promo spots that the channel could have treated us to such European jewels as "Nude Soccer News" but instead offers this gem, roughly comparable to "Nude Soccer News" on the class meter. "VV" revels in ridiculing what was considered first-class entertainment in the Old Stoneface Days -- say, tuxedo-clad Jack Jones belting out a tune -- and is now celebrated as first-class camp in this wink-wink, too-cool-for-you era. ... Say "cheese."

The good-sport performers poke fun at themselves, but the message is mockery.

Over on FX, a variety spasm yields "Sin City Spectacular" (taped at the Luxor) and "Bobcat's Big Ass Show" -- the latter's title alone stamps it with the late '90s Nah-Nah-Na-Nah-Nah Sardonic Seal of Disapproval. Everything's a goof on this show, which high-strung host/ motor-mouthed madman Bobcat Goldthwait calls "strange people doing strange things." In the skewed, skewering '90s, yesterday's cool is today's strange.

Less mean-spirited -- even with a hint of affection -- are Vegas' own Penn & Teller hosting "Sin City Spectacular." Clearly, these guys have a soft spot for the old-style variety format. Still, the show -- the debut included Rob Schneider's smarmy imitation of a hopelessly unhip Dean Martin attempting swing versions of rock standards -- spoofs the form. Even the choice of the talented Penn & Teller as hosts -- they describe their act as "evil magic" -- is a subversive spin.

Well, OK. The shows are hip, fresh, in lockstep with the times -- everything they should be, since the shows they mock were also, in their era, hip, fresh, in lockstep with their times. And what else can you expect when you realize that a quarter-century ago, Richard Nixon imperiled his presidency over political fears, ambitions and rivalries, and Bill Clinton imperils his today over an alleged inability to keep the presidential zipper zipped?

How can you not smirk? (I've done more than my share of it in this column). And how can television not smirk right along with us?

The past is truly past, never to be retrieved, Nick-at-Nite reruns notwithstanding. That's life.

But, if only for a moment, I'd like to banish Bobcat from my TV screen and join Lamb Chop, Howdy Doody and the "Father Knows Best" brood for a rousing rendition of "Happy Trails to You."

'EBONY AND IVORY': Unlike the Stevie Wonder/Paul McCartney tune, the black and white lead characters in "Any Day Now" don't necessarily "live together in perfect har-mo-nee" -- no conflict, no show, right? -- but their friendship is the catalyst of the new drama series that debuts on Lifetime at 9 p.m. Tuesday.

And substantive racial issues and the interracial duo of leading ladies -- network vet Annie Potts and recurring "Law & Order" guest star Lorraine Toussaint -- make "Any Day Now" a heartening newcomer on the series scene.

Potts and Toussaint play a pair of childhood friends -- one white, one black -- who grew up together in Birmingham, Ala. during the racial strife and Civil Rights movement of the '60s. Repairing a longstanding rift in their friendship, they reunite as adults in the late '90s, confronting what Lifetime calls "a variety of issues revolving around family, friendship, career and social injustice that is still prevalent" (This is Lifetime, so expect a healthy chunk of that to be devoted to women's issues). Through interwoven plot lines, the series will shift between their adult lives and their experiences as children (played by Mae Middleton and Shari Dyon Perry).

Recently in this space, we examined this country's widening tele-segregation: white viewers favoring white shows with white casts (many of them idiotic sitcoms), black viewers favoring black shows with black casts (some of them borderline demeaning, with minstrel-style tendencies disguised as urban hipness) to the point that entire networks such as the WB have largely ghetto-ized black-themed programs. There are exceptions, of course, but the trend has been undeniable.

"Any Day Now" is a step toward sanity. A series in which the promise of the premise is to encourage a dialogue between blacks and whites. A series with black and white characters in a close-knit relationship. A series with black and white actors in the same camera shot.

CROON A TUNE: Congrats to trailblazin' cowpokes MARK RITCHIE and JULIA MASON, who knew that "keep them doggies movin' ... don't try to understand 'em, just rope and tie and brand 'em" was the motto of "Rawhide." We called it a Di-Fi tie this week because Mark was the first to ID the theme, while Julia was the first to correctly answer all three questions -- she also knew that Frankie "Mule Train" Laine sang the theme to the series, and that it starred squinty-eyed movie guy Clint Eastwood.

And a hearty "Head 'em up, move 'em out"! to other readers who recognized "Rawhide": Ed Boucher, Obert Brinley, Martha Campbell, Rich Collins, Ron Farber, Val Kolar, Ed Mocabee, Shelby Nelson, Joshua Peck, Tom Regin, Dan Roberts, Daniel Savage and Francine Scott. And thanks even to a reader who thought the theme was "Wagon Train" -- maybe because Frankie Laine sang "Mule Train." At least she didn't guess the other western theme crooned by Frankie -- Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles" (now that was a western).

Starting next week, we'll integrate instrumental themes into the mix, via a new phone line. For now? What theme told this story: "All but one man died, there at Bitter Creek, and they say he ran away ... (series title), marked with the coward's shame."? Prove you're no coward by courageously coughing up the correct answer and receiving your Dial File commendation. Remember to clearly spell your name and leave a daytime phone number. Sa-lute!

Dismissed, soldier.

THAT SMARTS!: Here's respected "Murphy Brown" creator/producer Diane English, asked at a gathering of TV critics why there are no more "smart" TV shows: "Takes smart people to write them. Too many people are spending too much time watching television."

As someone who watches a fair amount of television but also considers himself to be among the intellectual elite, may I say with utter indignation that I deeply resemble that remark.

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