Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, March 14, 1992 TAG: 9203140287
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DAN TAYLOR
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
And you know everyone's in trouble when it's one of the best series on television.
Last week, the fourth episode in the Taster's Choice ad saga was all over prime time on ABC and CBS. And let me tell you, more is heating up than just the freeze-dried instant coffee.
For the culturally deprived, here's a quick recap:
Our couple, new neighbors in a tastefully upscale big-city apartment house, met in the first ad, which premiered in November 1990.
The 30-ish, sophisticated pair is played by English stage actors Anthony Head of London and Sharon Maughan of Liverpool.
In the ads, no names are ever used, but to keep the pronoun count under control, and prevent confusion (mainly mine,) we'll call them Tony and Sharon.
In the first installment, Sharon - all dressed up - knocks on Tony's door and asks to borrow some coffee. She's right in the middle of a dinner party, you see. Tony lends her a jar of Taster's Choice.
In the second episode, first aired in March 1991, Sharon appears at Tony's door again, on her way back from the market, to replace his jar of instant coffee. Tony's glad to see her, but he's - er, um - busy. Sharon's hip; she knows he's got a date in there.
And in Chapter 3, which made its anxiously awaited debut Sept. 15, 1991, Tony shows up very late for his sister's dinner party. They're already having coffee - you guessed what brand. There is only one guest Tony hasn't met, sis says, but you know who that turns out to be.
This one ends with a cliff-hanger. Tony sits down next to Sharon and casually invites her out to dinner. She sips her Taster's Choice, smiles that quirky, flirty smile of hers and says, "What makes you think I'll accept?"
Oh, the suspense.
The fourth installment, airing since March 1, ends the suspense. They're coming home after their dinner date. She invites him in for coffee. He keeps staying for "one more cup of coffee." (I should think that after three cups, he'd have to leave, at least for a minute.)
Then we get a new ending that teases us even more. Sharon coyly suggests Tony leave, and offers to let him take the Taster's Choice with him, if he likes it so much. Then they stand close, their eyes meet and . . .
Fade out.
Will the next episode begin with Tony and Sharon at her breakfast table, wearing each other's bathrobes and sharing a morning cup of Taster's Choice?
The commercials have all been four or five months apart so far, which means it may be early next winter before we find out.
Personally, I don't think we have to worry about them sleeping together. These people can't sleep. They drink entirely too much coffee.
Maybe the saga will take a traditional turn, and we'll eventually see them sharing a cup of you-know-what on their honeymoon. At the rate we're going, that should be sometime in 1997.
The point is that in four 45-second commercials - that's three minutes total - we come to recognize and like these intelligent, sophisticated, articulate characters.
I mean, I care about these two people. I'm particularly concerned about their diet.
OK, it's a coffee commercial, but in three minutes, the writers at New York's McCann-Erickson ad agency have done a better job of characterization than most screenwriters do in two hours.
Sharon follows Tony through his softly lit kitchen, chamber music playing in the background, and we know we're not dealing with a couple of slobs here. We already can see that Tony is unlike most bachelors, because he knows where the coffee is.
These two banter delicately, flirt tastefully but outrageously and enjoy each other deliciously, and the most graphic physical activity we ever see is coffee drinking.
It's a miniseries in miniature, and somehow it manages to say more than some of the full-sized editions.
Shakespeare said, "Brevity is the soul of wit."
And this series of very brief encounters makes it more obvious than ever that most of prime-time television has no soul and even less wit.
Mute the programs. Watch the commercials. The New York Times News Service
Dan Taylor is entertainment editor of the The Press Democrat in Santa Rosa, Calif.
by CNB