Season 1 Overview

Also known as: Michael Landon shares his personal background on an episode of Highway To Heaven.

Or: how to be Michael Landon.

It’s deep into November 1984. Orwell’s dystopian fantasy, didn’t come true, thankfully, and people can breathe a sigh of relief by enjoying yet another episode of Highway. This episode in particular is revelatory for many reason: an important one, they are going to invent a new motto (the “doozy” that will be used for the rest of the series). A second one, it’s worth noting that it was written by Michael Landon himself, and it presents themes that seem to nod to his own career. But maybe it’s all just a coincidence of sorts.

Assignment: Jonathan and Mark are assigned to help a movie star realize his negligence toward his kids and learn how to make up for it.

Introduction, then on to Hollywood.

In true musical fashion, a zoom on the iconic Hollywood sign clues in even the most distracted viewers—just in case they didn’t catch it from the groovy, razzle-dazzling score—that we’re in Hollywood. I mean, they had to get David Rose to compose a piece exuding “Hollywood musical” in its most stereotypical form. He deserved better than that. But maybe it is necessary to emphasize how the episode doesn’t just take place in Tinseltown, but it’s also about it.

Then, the scene is diverted to a random car driving down the L.A. streets in a typically busy morning. The car seems a pretty ordinary one. I mean, there are countless cars in L.A.—what makes this one special enough to distract the audience from the Hollywood sign.

The answer soon becomes clear: it’s the car the audience has come to recognize from previous episodes. Naturally, we expect it to be driven by the usual characters. But here’s the first surprise.

They have a tie!

Now, for the first time in the series’ history, the two friendly buddies have ditched their conventional, everyday clothes and dressed to the nines. This assignment looks serious. Or maybe they’re just playing a role to fit in the Hollywood setting— because, you know, everyone’s an actor there. I mean, the part they would be playing would be: Jonathan is a (probationary) angel in disguise, and Mark seems to be trying to be anyone but himself.

Of course, that’s a joke. We all know Mark can be just as elegant as anyone else.

Anyway, Marks asks why they have to dress up like that, with their Sunday Suits, and Jonathan explains they’ll have to meet a famous movie star for their assignment.

Mark, you already knew that. I’m pretty sure there were better ways to have Jonathan explain the story to the audience than having him repeat it to Mark. I mean, at some point before the beginning of the episode Mark must must have dressed up like this: life doesn’t begin in a car with your best friend dressed up like that.

Anyway, Jonathan explains that their mission is to take care of a movie star’s kids, and Mark complains that he doesn’t want to be dressed up like that just to babysit, also noting they’re probably going to be the same, wealthy spoiled movie star’s kids— long complain short, he’d rather pass on this assignment.

Jonathan scolds him for holding prejudices against kids he hasn’t even met, just based on their social status.

Now, a couple of things: first, about Mark—this is the first episode where he openly mentions resigning from his angelic job. I mean, every job has its perks and drawbacks. Mark, you ought to have thought about that before begging Jonathan to bring you along in the first place on the pilot.

Second, about Jonathan—why are you lecturing your friend the same old story about prejudice when you yourself have changed out of your regular clothes for some more formal ones and put on a tie for the first time. I mean, I assume your outfit serves to the purpose of making a good first impression to your employer, which is a movie star in this case, so that he won’t judge you poorly the moment he sees you.

I mean, everybody has prejudices, and you need to learn to navigate through them. So don’t scold your friend about it—unless you’re going to tell me you’re planning to change the world, teach people to abandon their biases, and help them live better. But I’m not sure that’s what this assignment is really about, and it would be definitely beyond the scope of it. Instead, I think this speech is just an encapsulation of the underlying moral of the story, more addressed to viewers at home rather than the characters in the episode and that moral is: do not confuse actors with the characters they play.

You might think you know the actors’ personalities because of the roles they’ve played throughout their careers or the public image they’ve built, but remember: life behind the scenes is a totally different story.

Back to business now—they stop at a red light and see an elderly woman with a religious sentence on the back of her car.

It’s ambiguous, though.

Mark complies with the sentence by honking.

And the woman’s reaction is a like this.

Such a bigot, isn’t she?

This is the perfect moment for Jonathan to drop one of his punchlines to a confused Mark: “You see what I meant about preconceived notions?”

Alright, moving on. Jonathan and Mark get to the MGM studio set.

Notice that they just drive in like this, without anybody stopping them for identifications or anything.

Anyway, they get on the set of a Western production. It couldn’t possibly be a comedy, or a sitcom: it’s always western; because Michael Landon must really love that, and even in this series, his first in a modern setting, he had to put Western somehow.

There, Jonathan and Mark witness a child actor scolding a crew member for sitting on his chair. The crew member walks over and apologizes—it was definitely his fault for not checking the name on the chair before sitting down.

And Mark voices his opinion.

The first “doozy” of the series. This show features many unruly kids who need to be taught a lesson, and Mark will always find a different nickname for them. But here — for concision — they will be all referred to as “Doozy”.

Later, the director and actor of the movie, Lance, arrives on set while the screenwriter is after him.

But the director scolds him for changing parts of the story, ordering him to rewrite everything.

Of course, when there’s a despotic, busy director on TV, it seems the only way to portray him is with a scene in which he argues with his screenwriter.

Also, I always thought the screenplay of a movie was supposed to be finished before production began. But I was wrong— or maybe this is just a way to criticize the chaotic pace of movie production in 1980s Hollywood. That industry is just as enslaving as Mr. Haskins’s elderly house in the pilot.

Anyway, the screenwriter gives Lance a disquieting stare that would give shivers to Carpenter himself.

Then he sighs and walks away.

It seems like the perfect time for Jonathan and Mark to knock on Lance’s trailer and ask him about his job offer.

First, about Lance: he’s played by actor Daniel Davis, who apparently makes recurring appearances on Star Trek as well (like the previous episode starred Jonathan Frakes, who is a regular on Star Trek too).

Anyway, once Jonathan and Mark follow Lance in his trailer, something unexpected occurs that would change the course of the series.

This time, Jonathan can’t get away like he did in the pilot: Lance wants some references.

However, Jonathan is not the least worried about it: actually, he magically hands him a piece of paper and waits for Mark to do the same.

Mark throws a nervous glance at Jonathan, unsure what to do — then he inspects his suit.

Mysteriously, on Mark’s pocket there are some references.

He awkwardly smiles at Lance and seems to telepathically cast to Jonathan a “Cute. Real cute.”

Cute, Jonathan.

But wait a minute—if Jonathan could have been provided by his superiors with glowing references that instantly qualified him for a job, why didn’t that happen in the pilot, where he had to go through that awkward job interview and offer to work without pay?

Then again, it was the pilot, and they clearly had no idea where the series would be going next; or maybe this assignment is somehow special.

Upon reading Mark’s references, Lance notices something.

The references probably omitted the part where he was suspended for his alcoholic problems.

So, he asks him an unusual question.

Perhaps he forgot for a moment that you don’t need to be a cop to own a gun in America.

He then asserts that being a movie star makes him and his children easy targets for his many enemies. He was likely including his angry screenwriter on that list; you can’t easily forget that intense stare from earlier.

Nonetheless, Lance is impressed by their references and hires them on the spot. Before leaving, Jonathan has one request for the job.

Mark this moment, everybody: this was the first, official, accounted use of the word “Boss” in the series. It doesn’t seem like they were planning to have it as a motto for the rest of the show, but it became one nonetheless.

Anyway, Lance dismisses him and says he’ll pay them a bonus instead.

Because he believes money can buy anything. There’s a lot of work to do on him.

And one last thing: curiously, they’ll overlook the Sunday rule for the rest of the series and never ask any future employer for a day off again. Just assume every episode takes place on a weekday—or perhaps Jonathan’s “assignments” don’t count as work in the strict biblical sense.

Back to the story: Jonathan and Mark head to the airport to pick up Lance’s kids.

And they are just as obnoxious as Mark predicted earlier.

Kids’ questions are just unbearable.

And they argue on that.

So, you see, Jonathan: your friend was right about them even though he didn’t know them.

But Mark never brings it up—you know, it’s not polite to prove an angel wrong.

However, the kids have a valid reason for their discontent.

So, if that could be of any justification for their behavior, they were just looking forward to seeing their father: instead they got a probationary angel in disguise and a random man in a suit pretending to be anyone but Mark Gordon (okay, now that’s the last time for that joke).

About the kids: she’s Emily Moultrie playing Karen; she mostly retired from acting in 1987 with one exception in 2003 for a British TV show. Instead, he’s Robert Jayne (credited as “Bobby Jacoby“) playing Brock; apparently, he’s currently an agent in the field of real estate, but also a professional blackjack player — occasionally, an actor as well.

Afterwards, they all go to their majestic house, and that night, finally, the man they have been longing to see eventually arrives there.

But he’s not their father. He’s just his driver with a bunch of gifts on behalf of their absent father.

Mark is not discouraged and tries to cheer the kids up by promising to play with them together.

He looks darn happy. He’s like a kid at Christmastime.

Besides the sheer excess of it all, the gifts include toy guns and a toolbox with hammers and screwdrivers. I really don’t buy that those were typical gifts for kids in the ’80s—or whenever. Anyway, Karen quickly gets over her sadness about her father’s absence and plays with Mark using her new toy guns.

And he hits the mark.

And he’s way too enthusiastic about it. Also, I’m not sure it’s fair: he was an ex-cop, he should be quite good at shooting, isn’t it.

But maybe he hadn’t shot with a gun ever since he got suspended for his drinking and all that— he missed this activity, that’s why he looks so excited. Or maybe, French was a shooter himself, and he was not acting here.

Either way, Mark, I’m not sure shooting with guns is exactly an educational game for kids. And in a Christian Show.

At least it’s a girl playing with him. That’s progressive.

Meanwhile, Brock unpacks his gift, which is a very non dangerous-one, just like his sister’s.

And he notices some dangerous toys cars.

And they cease to exist soon.

Well, I suppose that was an imaginative way to use those toys. I mean, he had to vent out, and that’s what toys are for.

Or this moment was just a warning for parents on the presents they make to their kids. That was the moral in here.

Anyway, Mark eventually calms him down and takes both kids to bed. Next, it’s morning.

And then it’s night again.

That’s right: a blooper. They showed the great mansion in broad daylight as if it were a leading to the next morning, but they followed it with a scene that it’s set at night (it’s clearly visible because it’s all dark behind Lance’s open door and it’s also stated by Johnathan in the following dialogue) — the same night the kids got their presents.

I mean, Jerry Taylor — how could you make such mistake. Maybe the production of this episode was rushed to air on schedule and he was pressured to end it quickly. And maybe Landon was just like Lance in this episode: a bossy, enslaving director who pressured his editor to finish quickly and didn’t give him the time to check twice.

A very accurate, rare depiction of Jerry Taylor arguing with Landon on set for this episode.

Of course it’s a joke. I mean, everybody knew how Landon was good and understanding and empathic on set. Even though there may be some truth in it, at least the part about Lance being a fictionalized version of Landon, but that will become even more apparent later.

Back to the episode, Lance finally comes home and Jonathan and Mark quietly leave.

Now, they are in the car, and Mark looks exhausted by the long day with those spoiled kids.

Yet, one detail is unclear: where they’re actually headed in the first place. I mean, in some episodes, we see them renting apartments or rooms; but in others, like this one, their living arrangements are never shown. I assume that’s one of the trickiest parts of Jonathan having a human companion on the job—those pesky basic human needs. He definitely didn’t have to worry about them when he worked alone.

Back to the scene, Mark finds the strength to start a conversation and condemns Lance’s attitude.

But Jonathan’s opinion is different.

And then he better explains that.

Just a moment on this: first, Jonathan is quite off-point. I mean, they were talking about Lance’s attitude toward his kids, only then Mark added that maybe Lance wanted to stay with his friends as an explanation for his absence, but that still doesn’t change that Lance is neglecting is kids. Even though he doesn’t have any friends, he’s not entitled to be such a bad parent.

Second, on what Jonathan said in particular: it may be just another implicit nod to Landon’s own personal life. It’s not impossible he ever got caught in a bad friendship.

Anyway, before they get to wherever they’re staying that night, Mark asks Jonathan to stop at a night market to buy some food, because he didn’t eat enough earlier at supper.

Again, pesky human needs. And, an instance of Hungry Mark

Outside the shop, Mark notices a nervous-looking man loitering. Unbothered, he goes inside to grab some snacks. But that man follows from distance and approaches him as Mark is confronting the food offers like one of those old ladies at the market that doesn’t know what to pick up.

Now, here’s something: that funny-looking man behind Mark is played by Dennis Pratt, who will appear on later seasons as well—each time as a petty criminal trying to rob a location where Jonathan and Mark just so happen to be.

It is unclear whether he’s meant to be the same character or if it is just a curious, inner self-reference, though.

Back to the episode: Dennis Pratt (credited here simply as “Junkie”) pulls a gun on Mark and demands money.

Startled, Mark tries to justify himself but “Junkie” isn’t convinced: he saw Mark getting out of a limo.

Fair point.

That same moment, Mark is relieved as Jonathan steps in and calmly asks the man to put the gun down. But Junkie isn’t impressed and fires at Jonathan. So, now, the Stuff is required to save the day: Jonathan catches the bullet with his bare hand, even leaning back slightly to make it more dramatic.

Notice the music that drops for a moment until Jonathan smiles, which is then matched by some random piano melody. Again, David Rose’s knack for synchronization is back.

Anyway, Jonathan gives an unsettling sneer made all the more spine-chilling by a perfectly timed piano sting synced to his expression and Junkie runs away. But Jonathan is not through with him.

Just, imagine how the scene was like: some unfortunate crew member hiding behind the boxes waiting for the right time to give them a little shake. That’s the secret of the Stuff, some friendly help.

So, Junkie then stumbles and tells the police what he has just happened to him.

But he instantly destroys his own credibility seconds later, with one detail.

His character basically served two main purposes: first, his name is a cheeky way to bring in the themes of BDD (you know, Bums, Dumps, Drugs) that will circularly be featured throughout the series; second, he teaches children among the audience to never take anything from strangers— or you’ll experience an angel playing some tricks on you.

The next day, Lance wakes up early and heads out to review some scenes from his film production, while Jonathan and Mark take his two kids to the park. There, Karen gets in line to go down a slide but stops to tie her shoelace, unintentionally blocking everyone in the process.

A kid standing behind her pushes her aside and cuts in as Jonathan and Mark observe the whole scene.

So, Brock steps in to prove how man he is and starts a fight.

Well, that’s not all of it — you stood on the way.

That kid was rude and could’ve just asked her to step aside. But Karen wasn’t exactly in the right either — she was blocking everyone. She could’ve just tied her shoe somewhere else or moved aside for a moment. Either way, it’s a stretch to say this situation calls for a full-on fight, even if it’s to defend a damsel in distress.

Anyway, that kid gets mad and goes tell his mom.

That looks familiar.

Moooootheeeeeeeeerr!

So, the mother does what Mr. Oleson would do, sorry, what any mother would do: she sides with her kid.

And Mark notices that she looks familiar.

That’s right, Mark, he’s the doozy child actor from Lance’s new picture, coincidentally. Because, in L.A. it happens every time to go to a park and bump into some actor, isn’t it.

Anyway, Jonathan decides to step in and just downplays the argument.

The classic excuse parents resort to when their children get into trouble—rather than teaching them about responsibilities or the importance of not resorting to violence. If that line was supposed to be one of Jonathan’s wise punchlines, it completely missed the mark.

Anyway, the kid’s mother plays the card of “you don’t know who I am” to Jonathan.

And I’m an angel. Precisely, a probationary one.

But she immediately changes her attitude, not because Jonathan tells her that he’s an angel, but because he he casually mentions that Karen and Brock are Lance’s kids.

So, she awkwardly leaves.

When she’s gone, Mark has something to tell Jonathan.

Not sure it’s his fault. I mean, it’s the kid’s mother who should be taught a lesson. Her son didn’t do anything wrong this time, it was Karen who blocked him and Brock who pushed him.

Anyway, Jonathan reacts vaguely mysterious.

Meanwhile, at the studio, Lance is reviewing footage and commenting on the boy’s performance. So, he admits he’s good, but the he follows with a mean remark on him.

He tells a colleague that all child actors should be orphans, since their mothers “fill their heads with the wrong ideas about fame”. It’s possible that Landon—remember, he wrote the episode—was making some references there to his own experiences working with child actors in Hollywood throughout his career. Or maybe he was just stating a well-known industry gripe.

Anyway, the session is interrupted by a call.

Apparently, the child actor is ill and must be replaced.

Now, while Jonathan had agreed with Mark earlier that the kid needed a lesson, it’s unclear whether Jonathan used “the Stuff” to cast some sort of punishment, or if this was just a convenient plot twist. Likely, this kind of power was beyond Jonathan’s reach and purposes. I mean, who is he to to endanger a child’s health just like that. And no, let’s not pretend it was done for the boy’s sake because “smallpox is less dangerous the younger you get it.”

Anyway, without the kid, Lance orders his agent to find a replacement immediately.

Next, Jonathan and Mark are driving to Lance’s home.

And look at that: a guy staring directly at them. He even adjust his speed to theirs.

That’s definitely not an Easter Egg, it’s just a random guy happening to find himself next to Landon and French while they were on production. Because, it’s common knowledge that it’s impossible to drive in in L.A. without bumping into some Hollywood production.

The same way it’s impossible to go to the park without bumping into some child actor, for that matters.

And he’s still there.

Landon must be pretty pissed off by this.

Anyway, what Jonathan and Mark are talking about while that extra follows them is that Jonathan’s superior decided to help Jonathan for this assignment and made Tom come down with chicken pox in order to interrupt Lance’s production and make him spend more time with the kids. However, Lance’s didn’t shut down the production. So, now, the plan will be to take Brock and Karen directly on set.

At the MGM studio, Brock reasonably points out such plan is not going to work out.

And he’s right. But this plan is also pointless: I mean, Jonathan could have taken them on set anytime, without waiting for Tom to get chicken pox.

Still, Jonathan reassures him.

Remember, he’s the angel, so he always knows better.

Upstairs, the two kids anticipate to find their father in the middle of the casting process—only to learn that he is busy on set and will only get there once his agent finds a suitable actor. Then, a woman takes Brock for a child actor.

Jonathan, of course, must have already been aware of this and talks Brock into trying it.

What, you’re an angel?

The kid seems rather shy and says he is no actor.

So, Jonathan first tries to tell him that nobody is an actor if they do not try (and this argument will also be presented on the next episode), but the kid is still unsure. Then, Jonathan tries to tease him.

The kid has now something to say.

And Jonathan drops a punchline.

Realizing he’s getting nowhere, Jonathan tries a different approach.

The kid replies he has lots of times.

So, pretending in front of your parents isn’t so different from acting. Maybe this reflects Michael Landon’s approach to his own acting, could be.

Also, Jonathan comforts the nervous boy by telling him that everyone feels scared when being judged before a job, and his father surely felt the same at the start of his career. Again, this could be Landon subtly revealing bits of his personal, relatable story. Or maybe it’s not.

Eventually, Jonathan wins Brock over by suggesting that he’ll have a chance to spend time with his father in the remote possibility he lands the role.

Last reminder: this might be again a nod to how Landon felt about his own kids. For anyone familiar with Little House, or just Landon in general, it is well known that he often cast his own children in recurring roles, extras, or background parts. He even allowed for his fellow actors’ children, as well as production teams’, to stay on set with their parents while working, and they would all hang around together.

In one interview, he reportedly explained he did that because he always had to stay out late working on set, so that was his way to get to spend more time with his kids and to let them see his professional side. This might further suggest that maybe this whole episode is just a way for Landon to confront his past mistakes as a parent. Or maybe it’s not. Whatever.

Back to Highway. Eventually, Brock gets the part, but they want to surprise his father, and they come up with a perfect idea: first, Mark does the sentinel.

Sneaky Mark.

Then, he comes back to the room with Jonathan and Karen to proceed with the second part of the disguise plan.

Try and guess: Where is Michael Landon?

And their plan works: Lance walks by distractedly and is shocked to see his own son has been cast.

And you can se from his expression he’s not pleased, as Brock had warned Jonathan.

Lance doesn’t want his kids to get into acting and scolds Jonathan and Mark for bringing him to the audition.

One thing to notice: during the ensuing argument Lance accuses Jonathan of filling Brock’s head with false dreams about fame. And that may be a suggestion that Lance himself is not be so happy with his role in the industry, neither.

Later, Jonathan and Mark take the kids home, and Brock starts reading the revised screenplay (so, apparently, the screenwriter finished the rewrite, or maybe this is just another early draft).

In one scene, the son of a sheriff runs away from home. Jonathan asks to how the story concludes.

Jonathan, you’ll have to wait until it’s finished to know that, or at least until you’re sure the screenwriter won’t change the story again.

So, Brock explains how the story goes from that point.

And they comment on that.

So, Jonathan plants the idea in Brock’s mind to emulate the scene in order to draw his father’s attention.

And leaves Brock brooding over that. With a very slow 1980s zoom on his face.

Very slow.

That night, when Lance returns home, he can’t find his son.

I mean—Jonathan, come on— that’s a bit misleading and little dramatic and makes you sound like a psycho. Like, you’ve just kidnapped that kid or worse.

Naturally, Lance is shocked and rushes to call the police (finally, a moment in the series where someone doesn’t avoid calling the cops), while Jonathan asks him what’s he doing in such a hurry.

That was obvious Jonathan. Who else, his agent?

But just as he does, Jonathan seemingly uses the Stuff again and cuts the phone line. He then calmly tells Lance that Brock would be surprised to know how much his father actually cares about him—because ever since they arrived, Lance has been emotionally absent.

Then, he drops a casual punchline.

Finally, Jonathan implies that he might know where the boy is and offers to take Lance to him. The two—without Mark (who is mysteriously absent from all the action, supposedly staying with Lance’s daughter at home)—look for Brock in his father’s studio.

And it’s clearly daytime, again.

So, at the set, they find Brock, who dramatically comes down some stairs to confront his father.

Now, the kid forces his father to play the scene in the script where Lance’s character finds his son.

And the showdown gets increasingly dramatic.

His father eventually breaks down.

Now, that’s a good scene: in their dialogue, it’s actually hard to tell when Lance and his son are reciting lines from the script and when they are “breaking character” to say what they truly feel.

It’s a sort of “TV-mirror-reality” moment—or rather a “Let’s deal with a serious issue through fictional characters” scene—confusing, but fitting anyway.

Finally, Lance concludes his speech by confessing to his son that he feels somehow imprisoned in his own TV persona and that he’s preferred recognition from strangers over love from his own family. Again, this might reflect Michael Landon’s own thoughts, emerging through the character. I mean, Lance vaguely resembles Landon—they both have long hair.

Anyway, they prepare to go home, but the scene won’t be concluded before Jonathan drops his punchline.

The epilogue is presumably set one week later, as it’s the weekend again. To Mark’s relief, he and Jonathan are finally out of their suits and back to their original look. They head to the film set, but a guard stops them and asks for identification.

You see, Jonathan was wrong: they drove on set twice before this scene and nobody stopped them or cared about them because they were wearing suits and everyone assumed they were nice folks. Instead, now that they look like their regular selves, a cop has to identify them and Jonathan has to explain that they’re not bums intruding on set.

However, they are given away when the guard doesn’t see their names on Lance’s visitor list. You see, Jonathan, what are you gouging to tell him now.

Jonathan hastily reassures the guard by pointing out they were invited by Lance’s kids. This time, the guard finds their names and lets them through.

What a great friend Lance turned out to be—after all the help they gave him with his kids, he even forgot to list them for a set tour. Nonetheless, Jonathan and Mark make it to the set, where they see Lance and his son acting together in the movie, with Karen playing with them during breaks.

At least it’s not as violent as toy guns.

Suddenly, a producer pulls Lance aside to inform him that the day’s shooting will need to be postponed due to a technical issue. But Lance—now supposedly a better person—refuses to delay the shoot because he had promised his kids they would go fishing the next day. Then, when he sees Jonathan and Mark, he warmly invites them to join the fishing trip.

He is too friendly, maybe he genuinely forgot to list them as visitors.

Plus, it’s curious—why would he invite two former bodyguards he supposedly only met the week before to spend personal time with his family? You’d expect a man trying to reconnect with his children to want that time on his own with them. But maybe we’re looking at a Christian idea of “family,” you know, we’re all brothers and all.

Whatever the reason, Jonathan and Mark politely refuse, saying they’ve received a new job—or “assignment”—and have to leave soon.

They hug the kids, thank everyone, and leave the set, which vaguely resembles the one from Little House.

It can’t possibly be the original set of Walnut Grove for obvious reasons, but it vaguely resembles the fictional Mankato from Little House.

Or the replica of Dodge City from Gunsmoke.

Or it’s just that any western set looks the same.

This episode was produced on September 1984, the same week the pilot aired, and it was quite successful—and more subtle than it initially appears. It seems infused with Michael Landon’s nods to his past career. Or maybe it’s all just a big illusion. Either way, the episode was a ratings success, with a similar score to the first ones.

showing that the series has begun to capture the public imagination. But there’s still a long road ahead before it achieves full success.
Trademark feature: Mark in a tuxedo, introduction of the “Boss“, introduction of “Doozy” kids.