Dial File — Steve Bornfeld: Heading or the exits

Friday, May 21, 1999 | 10:28 a.m.

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof."

-- Ecclesiastes, 7:8

"E-badabee-badabee-badabee-bada -- That's all, folks!"

-- Porky Pig, Loony Toons

In English: Bye-Bye. Farewell. Toodle-oo. Nighty-night. Over-'n'-out.

In foreign tongues: Adios. Shalom. Sayonara. Ciao, bambino. Do svidaniya.

In Schwarzeneggerese (Ultra-Foreign Tongue:) Hasta la vista, baby.

In any language: Welcome to Series Swan Song Season.

With "The Nanny" already nixed -- perhaps now Fran Drescher can put her nasal nightmare of a voice to good use, like recording it on an endless tape loop and mailing it to Slobodan Milosevic -- we turn toward the Finale Final Four: network anchors "Mad About You," "Melrose Place" and "Home Improvement" (next week) and syndicated stalwart "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" (the following week).

("Homicide: Life on the Street" departs by default tonight, having been murdered last week by NBC.)

Series send-offs are season-ending rituals now -- last year saw grand goodbyes for "Ellen," "Murphy Brown," "The Larry Sanders Show," "Family Matters" and some Nonsense About Nothing. And while they're fun, the burgeoning list of departing veteran shows -- dovetailing with a withering list of successful new shows to replace them -- lends these partings an ominous overtone for increasingly desperate networks.

NBC ponied up millions a year ago to keep mint-new Oscar winner Helen Hunt and Paul Reiser Mad About TV for what turned out to be a lackluster last season, and ABC honchos were reportedly miffed over Tim Allen's decision to deny them a ninth season of "Home Improvement."

While none of these sign-offs match the mania that accompanied "Seinfeld's" Sein-off a year ago -- this year's May madness belongs to "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace" -- they're still entitled to their own mini-autopsies before we slam the coffins shut, pay the preacher and head for the hors d'oeuvres:

"Mad About You": Winsome Hunt and rising Reiser (how could he NOT rise after co-starring with Greg Evigan in "My Two Dads"?) uncorked this bubbly brew about Paul and Jamie Buchman in 1992. Refreshingly free of the standard curse of sitcom couples -- namely tart-tongued tykes -- yet more domesticated than the snarky singles of "Seinfeld," "Mad" was a sharp, witty, urban take on early marriage. (Even if certain scenarios -- such as a sexual encounter on a kitchen table as dinner guests waited in the living room -- strained credibility.)

Episodes were small gems of observation on the highs and lows of being hitched, culminating, midway through its run, with the comic-yet-compelling story arc of Paul and Jamie on the brink of splitsville. Rarely have punch lines and pathos been so deftly blended -- just before the decline.

You could see it coming in the jettisoning of Nancy Dussault -- perfectly cast as Jamie's mom -- for the star power of Carol Burnett. Brilliant though she is, Burnett's presence signaled a shift -- gimmickry over naturalness -- reinforced by ex-Archie Carroll O'Connor as her hubby. Losing the wonderfully quirky Richard Kind (later of "Spin City" and returning for the "Mad" finale) was a further blow, and keeping annoying Cousin Ira around was yet another. (Although among other cast members, Louis Zorich as Paul's dad and Murray as Paul's dog were standouts.)

"Mad" was systematically weakened by: A) Six time slots in seven years; B) The growing chasm in stature between Oscar winner Hunt and phone company pitchman Reiser; C) The arrival of baby Mabel, who turned the series' bubbly charm into flat 7-Up.

Divorce between series and network was inevitable. But please, "Mad" and NBC, leave us something to remember you by: A spinoff starring hilarious Uncle Phil, a k a Mel Brooks.

"Home Improvement": Born in 1991 at the height of the Robert Bly male empowerment movement, Tim Allen's grunting "More Power" Man, conceived as a standup persona, was ripe for sitcom stardom. One of the few remaining "traditional family" shows, it also crystalized America's male-female/ Mars-Venus conflict with warmth and humor, thanks to Allen's chemistry with Patricia Richardson, who created one of modern TV's most multidimensional wife/ mothers.

Along with Earl Hindman as neighbor Wilson (his face obscured by the backyard fence as he dispened Bly-ish advice to Tim), original "Tool Time Girl" Pamela Anderson (providing va-va-va-voomery) and Jonathan Taylor Thomas as Randy, one of their kids (evolving into a kind of adolescent heatthrob, although Allen and Richardson mercifully remained the focus), "Home Improvement" defined the top of the TV heap, even besting "Seinfeld" in the ratings. (Jerry captured the urban viewers on the coasts; Tim had the heartland.) And those weekly outtakes were a kick as the show's coda.

"Home Improvement" is the only one of the four departees retiring with a whiff of its former ratings invincibility, still making regular appearances in Nielsen's Top 20. As ABC's franchise show for much of this decade, it's making a dignified departure.

"Star Trek: Deep Space Nine": Perennially perceived as the neglected stepchild of the "Star Trek" universe, "DS9" may also -- given the maddeningly inconsistent and charisma-impaired "Star Trek: Voyager" -- be the last of the distinctive "Trek" series: The Final Frontier, if you will.

Darker and, in some ways, more emotionally complex than its predecessors, "DS9" -- with its often surly cast of interstellar scalawags and contentious conflicts -- was embraced by some "Trek" loyalists, shunned by others more accustomed to the futuristic idealism on which "Star Trek" was founded.

Yet with war ravaging Yugoslavia, "DS9" seems more relatable to the fractious world we live in as we approach the new millennium, which was considered "futuristic" not so long ago. Maybe the notion of an "evolved" human race in the coming centuries, propagated by the first two "Treks," seems slightly suspect these days.

The 7-year-old series also gave us Avery Brooks -- so mesmerizing as the menacing Hawk of "Spenser: For Hire" -- as Capt. Sisko, putting a black commander in charge. That's an encouraging TV trend, taken with the black captains in the police precincts of "Law & Order" and "NYPD Blue."

"DS9" stubbornly clung to its modus operandi, proving -- especially in light of "Voyager's" pale approach -- that fresh vision was vital to the long-term health of the franchise. But, ironically enough, here's a dose of hindsight for the future: Looking back a few years from now, the "DS9" sign-off may pinpoint the start of the collapse of "Star Trek: The Phenomenon."

"Melrose Place": What puerile pop song could Fox executives have been singing around the office when this super sexy sudser bowed in 1992? How about: "I believe in miracles -- you sexy thang!"

Although "Beverly Hills 90210" gave Fox its youth cachet, that show also explored relevant social issues (bummer, man). It took the wanton "Melrose" in all its hard-body, bed-hopping, back-biting, betrayal-ridden glory to carry Fox to youth-demo heaven, becoming its signature show.

And while all those lusty couplings didn't begat a cottage industry of successful imitators -- anyone recall "Models Inc." or "Central Park West"? -- "Melrose" did score a double whammy: It not only revived the dying prime-time soap genre, but also stole it from the middle-aged moguls of "Dallas," "Dynasty" and "Falcon Crest," giving the under-30 set some soapy silliness to call its own.

In addition to perfectly exploiting TV vet Heather Locklear -- whose bland, unthreatening sexiness is the definition of made-for-TV stardom -- "Melrose" hit the pop culture bull's-eye, inspiring hair and fashion trends. (Locklear's short-skirted style predated "Ally McBeal's" barely-skirted look.) And, most notably, "Melrose," with its weekly Bed-o-Rama, burned at the center of the sex-on-TV debate, which still smolders today.

That's a lot of influence for a little ol' TV show.

And that's a lot of time -- most of the '90s -- spent with a quartet of series that helped define a decade but won't live to see the new century.

So close the coffins, pay the preacher and pass the hors d'oeuvres.

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof."

"E-badabee-badabee-badabee-bada -- That's all, folks!"