"Look at me, Charles Ingalls. You were the one who said you could be happy. . .in the city. . .if we were all together. Well, we're all together." - Ma Ingalls (Karen Grassle) to Pa Ingalls (Michael Landon)
Little House on the Prairie: Season 5 DVD Review
By Christopher W. Czajka
There are a couple of surefire signs that your favorite television show is foundering. The first - and perhaps the most easily identifiable - is the needless and sudden introduction of children: diminutive, wide-eyed moppets who are thrust into the lives of beloved characters. Call it Cousin Oliver's Curse. The second - and more drastic - telltale sign is when the show picks up and moves to another location. Remember when Laverne and Shirley moved to California? Or when Lucy and Desi left their Manhattan apartment in favor of suburban life in Connecticut? Most shows resort to these acts of desperation when the writers are tapped out, when ratings are hitting rock-bottom, or when the plug is about to be pulled on production. However, the producers of Little House on the Prairie's fifth season decided to take these drastic measures when they were at the top of their game. Little House's fourth season in 1977-78 was its highest rated to date (and indeed, the highest rated for the entire run of the series). Melissa Sue Anderson was nominated for an Emmy for her performance as the blinded Mary Ingalls. Presidential hopeful Ronald Reagan admitted that Little House was his favorite show on television. And in the midst of all this, producers moved the entire cast away from the prairie hamlet of Walnut Grove, started the cycle of endless adoptions that would plague the show until its cancellation, and whipped up some of the most bizarre, silly, and implausible plots in the history of the series. Little House's fifth season shakes off the prairie dust and stirs things up quite a bit. At times, it's wildly successful, with classic episodes, heartwarming storylines, and excellent ensemble acting. At other times, it's maudlin, self-cannibalizing, and exceedingly preachy (even by Little House standards). However, it's never dull. Season five feels like it's going 90 miles an hour. . .in no particular direction.
First things first. I haven't gotten on my historical high horse in a while, and now's as good a time as any for a little reality check. For the most part, Little House on the Prairie lost most adherence to Laura Ingalls Wilder's classic series of novels way back in the first season. Some Little House fans have speculated that the fifth season was a lame, halfhearted attempt to get the show back on some sort of historically accurate track. In 1876, after having lived in Walnut Grove, Minnesota for two years, the real Charles Ingalls family moved to Burr Oak, Iowa, and ran the town's Masters Hotel for a while (remember this for later. . .much, much later). During this time, the family's only son - Charles Frederick Ingalls - died (the television series addresses this development in the first season's "The Lord is My Shepherd"). The year spent in Burr Oak is the only time from her childhood that Wilder never wrote about. Mary Ingalls, Wilder's sister, DID, in fact, lose her sight and DID attend a School for the Blind in Vinton, Iowa (but that was in the mid 1880s, when the Ingalls family was living in De Smet, South Dakota). Mary never married anyone (much less her blind school teacher), and (television viewers will be happy to know) never gave birth to a baby that was used as a battering ram. She lived with Pa and Ma for the rest of her life, made a lot of beadwork baskets, and died quietly at her sister Carrie's house in 1924. Most importantly, the Ingalls family never adopted ANY children. None. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Albert, and the others children who will follow him, are products of the writers' imaginations.
As you, loyal reader, will recall, at the end of season four, the simmering ill-will between the farmers and the railroad came to a head, and the town of Walnut Grove went into a worse-than-usual economic tailspin. The bank folded, the mercantile closed, characters left in droves and floods of tears, and Mary (Melissa Sue Anderson), newly returned from the School for the Blind in Iowa, wished the townspeople happy trails. Well, apparently, it took some time for everyone to get going. As the fifth begins, there are more heartfelt goodbyes in the two part epic "As Long As We're Together." Mr. Oleson (Richard Bull) reveals that he is penniless, and Ma (Karen Grassle) and Mrs. Oleson (Katherine MacGregor) share a touching goodbye. The Ingalls family climbs into their wagon, and heads off for Winoka, Dakota Territory, where Mary is scheduled to teach at Adam Kendall's (Malcolm in the Middle creator Linwood Boomer's) new School for the Blind. During their long wagon train westward, we are treated (?) to the first of the season's many, many, many extended montages. Season five features montages of wagon journeys, montages of river crossings, montages of house cleanings, montages of picnics. . .it never stops, and it gives the season a heavily padded feel.
Upon their arrival in Winoka, Pa and Ma take a job managing the Dakota Hotel. Unfortunately for them, the Hotel is owned by the despicable and pompous Mr. Standish (Leon Charles), a buffoon/villain so cartoonish that he would be better suited to a Rankin/Bass Christmas special. Soon, the Garvey family (Merlin Olsen, Hersha Parady, and Patrick Laborteaux) shows up because they figured if they have to start over, they "might as well do it in a place with friends." Aaaaww. Then, inexplicably, the Olesons show up in Winoka, too. . .effectively re-establishing a majority of the cast in a new setting. Jonathan Garvey soon gets a job as a bouncer in Mr. Standish's saloon; Mrs. Garvey begins teaching school in a converted livery stable; Mr. Oleson serves as a barback at the saloon, and Mrs. Oleson becomes a waitress/saloon girl/barroom floozy. Huh?
While in Winoka, we are treated to storylines very similar to those we would have experienced in Walnut Grove. There's a big (and, incidentally, anachronistic) football game ("The Winoka Warriors"), a friend of Laura's is ashamed because her father is morbidly obese ("The Man Inside"), and Ray Bolger (yep, that Ray Bolger. . .the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz), plays a good-natured, golden-hearted derelict named Toby Noe. Throughout the course of the Winoka episodes, there are continual references to the noise, the crime, the crowding, and the nasty, godless people. It's hard to tell if it was intentional or not, but as a viewer, you end up hating Winoka just as much as the characters do.
And then there's Albert. Albert (Matthew Laborteaux) is a homeless ragamuffin who lives under a loading dock around the corner from the Dakota Hotel. This cherubic child makes a living as a shoeshine boy and petty thief. Naturally, the Ingalls family takes him under their wing, makes him realize the error of his ways, and he becomes a member of the family. When the evil Mr. Standish's saloon blows up on the Fourth of July (after Willie Oleson wisely sets off some fireworks inside. . .sheesh! Stand in the corner, Willie!), the Ingallses, the Garveys, and the Olesons decide that they just aren't cut out for city life, and they decide to return to Walnut Grove and make a go of it ("There's No Place Like Home" Parts One and Two). Conveniently, in all the melee, Mr. Oleson gets drunk (!) and wins a fortune at poker, neatly enabling his family to return to their well-established role as the town's haughty rich folk. Pa Ingalls, unable to leave Albert behind, asks the boy to join the family and travel back to Walnut Grove. Naturally, Albert accepts. Cue a blaring rendition of David Rose's Little House theme and another unending wagon train montage. Eagle-eyed viewers will notice stock footage from the pilot movie woven into the journey back to Walnut Grove.
Little House fans may be surprised to know that all of this action takes place over the course of only the first six episodes of the season. That's it. Six Winoka episodes. Memory - and ubiquitous Little House reruns - make the city episodes seem interminable. And what, precisely, do these six episodes accomplish? Well, let's see: Mary gets escorted to and left behind in the big city; the Mary/Adam relationship heats up; the Ingalls family picks up another mouth to feed, and we learn, yet again, that there is no place like home. Once everyone returns to Walnut Grove, it takes a lot of grim determination (and elbow grease) to get the town in order. The town is awash in a plague of mustard weed (which makes you think that the on-set sprinklers must have been going 24/7 while everyone was off filming in "Winoka"). In one of the most touching highlights of the season, Mr. Hanson (Karl Swenson) who has had a stroke and is convinced that his town has been lost, drags himself from his deathbed to attend the first church service in the newly repopulated Walnut Grove. The scene is even more poignant when you learn that actor Karl Swenson was seriously ill and died less than two weeks after shooting the scene.
Astonishingly, Mary Ingalls' life isn't nearly as wretched as it usually is in the fifth season. She has a hot blind beau (not that she can see him), she's acheived her lifelong dream of becoming a teacher, and in "The Wedding," she actually has a very touching marriage to Adam Kendall (albeit after almost getting hopelessly lost in a nasty dust storm on her wedding day). But despite all her joy, Mary still gets plenty of chances to blubber and sob. She has a miscarriage ("The Sound of Children"), mistakenly believes that she is regaining her sight ("The Enchanted Cottage"), and helplessly stands by as one of her students perishes ("Mortal Mission"). At one point Mary lists off all of her woes, and asks Ma, "How much more do I have to bear, Ma? How much more?" Oh, so much more, Mary. So much more.
Of course, the Mary and Adam storyline just couldn't simply be left in Winoka. Soon after the Ingallses and the rest of the supporting cast depart, the Blind School is evicted from its building, and Mary turns to Pa and Ma for help. Thankfully, when Mr. Hanson died, he left his enormous Victorian mansion (Whaaa?) to the people of Walnut Grove, and the town, of course, decides to donate it to the Blind School. In the months (or maybe it's only been weeks?) since Mr. Hanson's death, the house has fallen into terrible disrepair. Mrs. Oleson cheerfully donates all of the building materials needed for the project, and then insists that the new school be named "The Harriet Oleson Institute for the Advancement of Blind Children." In the two-part epsiode "Blind Journey," Pa Ingalls and Joe Kagan (repeating guest star Moses Gunn) wagon-train to Winoka and bring Mary, Adam, and all of the blind children back to Walnut Grove by having them walk behind the wagons while grasping tow lines. Let me repeat that: the blind children and their blind teachers to walk across two states while being dragged along behind a wagon train. Get ready, kids, 'cause it's time for. . .you guessed it. . . yet another extended wagon trip montage and another blaring variation on the Little House theme. Of special note is that the Winoka Blind School teams up with a displaced St. Louis blind school en route to Walnut Grove; the St. Louis school is headed up by soon-to-be-series regular Hester-Sue Terhune (Ketty Lester).
One of the most frequent criticisms of Little House I've heard from philistines is that "everyone was always going blind." Well, that's not necessarily true, but the fifth season has more than its fair share of blind-centric episodes. In "The Winoka Warriors," a blind student feels useless until he finds his niche on a football team. In "Blind Man's Bluff," a boy pretends to go blind in order to prevent his parents from getting a divorce. Add in all of Mary and Adam's sturm and drang, and you have a season that, at times, does feel like it's all about blind people. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
However, there IS most definitely something wrong with Carrie Ingalls (played by twins "Lindsay" Robin and "Sidney" Rachel Greenbush). For four seasons, Carrie has had little to do but tag along after her older sisters, get her dress nailed to the roof by Mr. Edwards, occupy a high chair, and occasionally fall down a well. Watching season five, you can't help but wonder if there was some sort of war going on between Michael Landon and the twins' parents. Carrie goes from being an adorable living prop to being pretty much a developmentally disabled, autistic child. Carrie is about seven or eight by this time, but she apparently has. . .well, some bladder control issues. Almost every time we see or hear about Carrie, she's in the process of wetting her pants, has recently wet her pants, or is frantically scrambling to the outhouse to prevent wetting her pants (or rather, her calico dress). She also does alarmingly dumb things like locking herself in a chiffarobe and tipping it over, and dragging newly scrubbed laundry through the dirt. At another point, she accidentally drops some food into her lap, and bellows out "Damn!", much to the horror of her God-fearing family. That's what taking your family to live in the city gets you: a potty-mouthed imbecile for a daughter. Poor Carrie is never taken seriously by the writers, or even the other cast members. In almost every one of the scenes where she and Laura (Melissa Gilbert) have fleeting dialogue, Laura (or is it Melissa Gilbert herself?) rolls her eyes, shrugs, and speaks sharply to the addled little girl.
However, the greatest injustice to poor Carrie Ingalls is the Greenbush twins' signature episode (and thankfully, their last star turn in the series), "The Godsister." I love Little House. I've seen all of the episodes many, many times. But "The Godsister" is the most horrendously awful episode in the ten year run of the series. Hands down. If you've never seen it (or have blocked it from your memory), you may want to get your hands on season five just so you can see this utter disaster. When Pa has to go away to find work, Carrie gets lonely and creates an imaginary friend, Alyssa. Oddly enough, Alyssa looks exactly like Carrie (those sneaky writers FINALLY figured out a way to have both of the Greenbush twins onscreen simultaneously). Carrie and Alyssa have a series of Alice in Wonderland-type adventures, including a visit to heaven (where they run into the Ingalls' deceased pooch, Jack), and picking berries on a horrendous set zapped right out of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. That particular adventure concludes with Carrie GETTING CHASED BY A GIANT SPIDER. Watching it, you get the feeling that Michael Landon said to Ma and Pa Greenbush, "You want your brats to have more to do on the show? Fine!!!! I'll dedicate an entire episode to them - and it will be the lousiest episode ever - and then, after that, they will NEVER, EVER SPEAK ONSCREEN AGAIN!"
Amidst all of the nopstop melodrama, endless wagon trains, and giant spiders, season five also tackles the issues of racism and bigotry in a number of episodes. . . so many, in fact, that Walnut Grove gets its own resident bigot, a farmer named Larrabee (Don "Red" Barry). Recurring guest star Moses Gunn as Joe Kagan, coupled with the arrival of Hester-Sue Terhune her gaggle of African-American blind children, give Larrabee and the less-enlightened residents of the town plenty of racist fodder. A major storyline of the two-part "Blind Journey" focuses on Mrs. Oleson learning to accept accept Hester-Sue and her students. In "Barn Burner," Larrabee is accused of torching the Garvey's barn after Jonathan Garvey sticks up for Joe Kagan. And in "The Craftsman," Albert is teased and tortured when he becomes an apprentice to a Jewish woodworker. While the lessons and themes in these episodes are relevant and important, they feel like all-too-familiar ground for Little House. There many occasions when the characters and situations from these "issue shows" feel like recycled episodes from earlier seasons.
Despite some less-than-stellar episodes and a pervading feeling of lost focus throughout the fifth season, something remarkable does occur: the cast reaches a new level of ease and comfort with their characters and relationships that is a joy to watch. Perhaps it's because the show had been on the air for five years, or because most of the major child stars were getting older, or because the writers were letting the characters grow and develop. . .but the result is that as a viewer, you feel as though you are watching chosen friends rather than television characters. . . real families who have known each other for years, who have inside jokes and long histories, and who can laugh with (and at) each other. It's difficult to pinpoint how exactly it happens, but there is a degree of tongue-in-cheekness and self-awareness in season five that the series didn't have until this point. Case in point: during her birthday party, Mary makes an extended speech about how much she loves her family, how much she cherishes them all, and how selfless, brave, and wonderful they all are. Standard Little House soggy emotionalism, right? Then, however, the camera pulls back to reveal Mrs. Oleson, comically bawling like a baby and hiccoughing into a handkercheif. When the characters begin to acknowledge the sweet sappiness of it all, the result is a breath of fresh air for the series, and does much to further humanize the cast.
Season five does have some strong standout episodes, and (I would argue) some of the best in the series. "The Lake Kezia Monster," is a comic delight and offers some of Little House's best non-traumatic family fun. When Mrs. Oleson buys a "summer house" by evicting the salty Scotswoman Kezia (Maude's Hermione Baddeley) from her lakefront home, Laura, Albert, and Andy Garvey decide to scare the Olesons away by inventing a "monster" for the lake, largely based on Kezia's stories of Loch Ness. Their antics include biting the Olesons' feet while they are swimming, creating a series of harrowing noises with a powder horn (described by Mrs. Oleson as "a sick cow"), and building a cheeseball "monster" with a moose's head and Roman candles firing out of its nose. It's campy, goofy, silly, and a ball to watch. On the flip side, "Mortal Mission" is a great "major trauma" episode: when two dishonest farmers sell infected meat to the townspeople, pretty much the whole darn cast gets anthrax (this would be the non-weaponized kind. . .but never fear, Doc Baker can identify what it is from the microscope in his office. . .just don't think about it too much). The music, cinematography, and design of the episode are chilling. . .and, lo and behold, it almost convincingly looks like winter in Walnut Grove. Watch especially for Karen Grassle's excellent work as Ma: when Laura becomes delirious, Grassle comforts her with a speech that just rips your heart out. The writers and Grassle skillfully make you realize how Ma's relationship to Laura is so differently shaded than Pa's, and Grassle deftly conveys that Ma realizes she is not her daughter's greatest comfort in these dire circumstances.
Season five ends with "The Odyssey." Laura and Albert help a friend who is dying of leukemia fulfill his lifelong dream of seeing the ocean. You read that correctly. They go to the ocean. The kids hop a train, hobo-style, and make their way from Walnut Grove to Pacific coast. WHAT? You'll be happy to know that William Randolph Hearst also makes a cameo. The final shot of Laura, Albert, Pa, and their dying one-episode friend standing on a beach in what is undoubtedly Malibu is an appropriately surreal ending to the most bizarre season the show ever had.
While there's lots of fun to be had with season five, it really is a mixed bag. Log on to www.jumptheshark.com, the redoubtable chronicle of when TV shows went irrevocably bad, and Albert's arrival and the stay in Winoka are consistently cited as Little House's fateful moments. The show feels like it desperately needs to refocus and get back on track. What it needs is a shot in the arm. . .which it will get in season six with the arrival of a burly blond sodbuster named Almanzo Wilder.
The twenty-one episodes that comprise the fifth season are divided onto six DVDs. The DVDs are housed in a foldout digipak case, which fits into a cardboard slipcover. Supporting characters get some well-deserved face time on the slipcover, which features Pa, Mrs. Oleson, Albert, Andy Garvey, and Reverend Alden.
Opening the digipak, each panel features photographs of characters from the series. The disc holder area of the digipak is adorned with a beautiful panoramic photograph of white clouds sailing over a golden, wheat-covered prairie. Each disc also features the prairie backdrop, and individual photographs of characters: Pa, Mrs. Oleson, Jonathan Garvey, Andy Garvey, Albert, and Nellie Oleson. The distributor has apparently finally mastered the art of using photographs related to the season it's packaging. Bravo!
The menu designs on the DVDs are simple and functional. Episodes on each disc are listed, while a montage of memorable Little House moments plays in a window, accompanied by the show's theme music. Like the Season 3 and Season 4 box sets, the episodes are divided into chapters. There is a "play all" feature. Also included in the packaging is a booklet containing brief summaries of each episode.
