SHOW: HOME IMPROVEMENT
TIME: WEDNESDAYS, 9 P.M., ABC
THE BOTTOM LINE: Never mind the macho grunts; TV's new No. 1 sitcom manages to straddle the gender gap expertly.
Hit TV shows often thrive on catchphrases ("Dy-no-mite"; "Kiss my grits"). Arsenio Hall's studio audience made him famous with a catchbark (Woof! Woof! Woof!). But Home Improvement may be the first show ever to rise to the top with the help of a catchgrunt. It's the growl of hairy-chested pleasure (Arrggh! Arrggh! Arrggh!) that protagonist Tim Taylor utters whenever he sees a chance to rev up his trusty power tools.
The trademark is fitting, for Home Improvement is one of those shows that don't inspire a lot of verbalizing. Murphy Brown is more trendily topical; Roseanne has more behind-the-scenes intrigue; Seinfeld appeals more to the thirtysomething opinion makers. All Home Improvement does is draw the biggest crowds. The ABC sitcom debuted last season to solid ratings (helped by a surefire time slot, between Full House and Roseanne). But this season, moved to Wednesday nights, it has powered its way to a new level. For five of the past six weeks, Home Improvement has been TV's highest-rated weekly series. ABC is so enamored of its new smash that in December it gave Home Improvement an unprecedented three-year renewal -- and struck a deal with the show's creators (headed by The Cosby Show and Roseanne veteran Matt Williams) for an ownership share of their next two series.
Home Improvement, in which comedian Tim Allen stars as Taylor -- a husband, father of three boys and host of a TV handyman show -- covers all its bases shrewdly. It combines the ironic edge of Allen's stand-up comedy -- a sort of , macho flip side to Roseanne Arnold's beleaguered-housewife rants -- with traditional family-show sentimentality. It caters to the baby-boom audience while poking gentle fun at it (the kids are puzzled when Mom, played by Patricia Richardson, mentions such names as Edgar Bergen and Ed Sullivan). It toys with the sitcom format in ways both inventive (the little flourishes of animation that divide scenes) and annoying (the episode outtakes that run under the closing credits).
Most of all, Home Improvement straddles the gender fence with the skill of a Cirque du Soleil aerialist. Network entertainment is largely driven by the female audience. Hard-edged action shows have all but disappeared from prime time; the great bulk of TV movies focus on women protagonists with either an empowering story to tell or a rapist on their trail; and most sitcoms have a female orientation, even when they ostensibly revolve around men. (Watch Major Dad get tamed by the women in his life.)
Home Improvement, by contrast, is a show about men, or more precisely about maleness. Tim is a swaggering takeoff on a macho guy who gets his kicks from rebuilding closets and working on his hot rod at 4 a.m. "I can hear my power tools callin' right now," he coos. " 'C'mon, plug us in, we're ready to serve.' " For advice he turns to his next-door neighbor, a Robert Bly disciple whose conversation usually opens with an avuncular chuckle ("Ho-ho- ho-no-no-no, Tim") and ends with an anecdote about tribal customs.