Welcome back to our journey through the lifetime of one Sam Beckett, as we follow him through lifetime after lifetime of righting the mistakes of the past. This week: Sam leaps into a blind classical pianist and an early rock and roll disc jockey. Let’s fire up the accelerator and hope that this leap is the leap that brings us home.
1. It seems like Donald P. Bellisario has some parental issues
“Blind Faith” is the fourteenth episode of Quantum Leap, and the fourth episode to specifically be about bad relationships between parents and children, and that’s not counting three others where that is a minor plot point. Now, I know that this is one of the most common and impactful tensions in most people’s lives, but this seems like a little bit overkill. In “Blind Faith,” Michelle is an unpaid assistant to Andrew, Sam’s blind leapee. Now, Sam can still see, because he, Sam, is not blind. This is one of the odder things that the show does, because sometimes it seems like Sam has the abilities/limitations of his host bodies, and sometimes he is more ‘himself.’ Regardless, Michelle’s mom thinks that her seeing (pun unintended) Andrew is a mistake. She gives no real reasons other than “I’m a miserable old coot and don’t trust you to balance a man and responsibilities.”
While, again, this is a relatable story for many, coming just a few episodes after “The Americanization of Machiko,” the relationship feels a little simplistic and forced.
2. Mop tops and strangulation
Because, as we know, this show loves a historical connection, the events of this episode take place just days before the Beatles make their debut on The Ed Sullivan Show. We know this because nearly every 5 minutes someone brings up the Beatles, even if there’s no real reason to. Andrew is playing Carnegie Hall, and his patrons were some of the least likely folks to be watching Ed Sullivan, but regardless. Also, I’d be curious to find out if Ed Sullivan impressions were common at the time; that seems like a routine that would’ve grown in fame after Sullivan’s retirement, or at least further into his decline. But Pete, Andrew’s cop neighbor, sure makes a meal of a bad Sullivan impression.
Also, the extras they paid to don Beatle wigs looked terrible. Weren’t these guys available?
Pete, it turns out, is also a monster who strangles ladies in Central Park. Sam’s goal for this leap is to save Michelle from being killed, and the writers somehow felt that the best way to tell this story was to make one of the five characters in this entire episode the killer. Pete is given no motive, but we see him strangle one of his (and Andrew’s) neighbors, who makes the most hilarious face, while staring directly into the camera when strangled. It almost looks like she is about to break into song in a commercial. It is such a campy reaction to a horrible event that it makes the deaths, and prospective death for Michelle, seem not as serious as you’d like for an episode like this.
3. Let’s twist…into hair and makeup
In “Good Morning, Peoria,” Sam leaps into a disc jockey in 1959 and is tasked with saving a radio station. Because this show can’t get enough of historical connections, Sam winds up meeting a ‘young’ Chubby Checker in the station’s lobby. Chubby Checker is played by, you guessed it, Chubby Checker. 47 year old Chubbs is portraying 17 year old Chubbs, and the show does nothing, not a stitch of work, to make you believe this is a young man. He’s dressed like he just came out of an oldies show in 1989, has hair that not a single human being wore in the 50s, and looks like he ate his 17 year old self. Observe:
4. [Tim Allen grunts]
Patricia Richardson, aka the long suffering wife and mother from Home Improvement stars as Rachel, the owner of the radio station whose only goal in life is to make the station succeed. She initially hates Sam, but, as happens almost every episode, winds up falling in love with him. Now, obviously this is a product of the writing on the show, not some scenario where Sam is such a cocksman that he can turn anyone into a sexual conquest, but there’s something to praise here for both Richardson and Scott Bakula.
Continued belowTheir animosity and their eventual embrace feels natural and earned, even if the entirety of their arc is something like 25 minutes from hatred to hot and heavy. A lot of this credit needs to go to Bakula, who makes almost all of these romantic endeavors feel possible, but as much goes to Richardson, who can pull off a range of feelings without seeming like the character is just ping-ponging through emotional states.
5. God must be a music fan
As we’ve established, and as the show established time and time again, God is the hand behind Sam’s leaps. It is interesting how many times, in just 15 episodes, that Sam has had a close encounter with music. He (anachronistically) teaches Michael Jackson to moonwalk, teaches Chubby Checker the twist, helps Buddy Holly finish “Peggy Sue,” encounters the Beatles in NYC, and leaps into a classical pianist. As Saint Augustine reportedly said, “He who sings prays twice,” and so the connection between God and music is nothing new. It just seems that the God of Quantum Leap is particularly a fan of mid-century American music.
The Oh Boy Teaser
I was going to rename this the ‘Oy vey’ teaser, but Sam essentially made the same joke when he leaped into a rabbi, mid bat mitzvah.
