Welcome back to ’80s Couch Surfing, a series in which I watch and review two episodes of a sitcom from the 1980s. Today’s entry is AfterMASH (1983-1985), the sad after party for M*A*S*H that took a few willing actors and transplanted them to a suburban hospital in the US.

Season 1 Episode 11: Fallout

Can’t say that I was ever the biggest M*A*S*H fan, although I did watch a fair share of it due to the show being my mother’s favorite sitcom. But what’s fascinated me is how three (failed) spin-offs emerged afterward. At two seasons, AfterMASH was the most successful. Out of the original cast, only three re-upped for service with AfterMASH: Colonel Potter, Klinger, and Father Mulcahy. The premise was that the three end up taking jobs at a VA hospital in Missouri.

So I’m just going to pick one episode from each season at random, starting with “Fallout” here. I have to say that the opening credits are just terrible. They start with a couple of the same familiar notes from M*A*S*H and then transition into this smarmy tune that one might hear if one was stuck in a dentist’s waiting room in 1977. It looks terrible, too, with a lot of blurry images of soldiers coming home from the Korean War. Just like your Maw-Maw’s slide show!

For a man who has been separated from his wife by war for several years, Sherman Potter is pretty oblivious to her presence. He doesn’t even look her way as she comes into the room and just mutters at her in monotone. Potter is in a funk because at the VA hospital, he’s having to deal with the long-term care of war-wounded, whereas at the MASH, it was all quick surgery and ship ’em home. He also hates the “cow plop” of the hospital bureaucracy. If you couldn’t tell, it’s just a laugh a minute with this show. He then weirdly muses about retiring to Florida to see the alligators and make out with his wife on the beach.

At the hospital, Potter continues to grouse about everything while Klinger shoves numerous forms in front of him to sign. I have to say that seeing them out of uniform is so very depressing. It’s like watching Superman hang out in cargo pants and a tank top while moaning about the fun he used to have. Everyone he talks to, it’s just a lot of complaining. “I wish I was 27 and six-foot-four again,” he moans to his tall colleague. If I wanted to hear this much whining, I would just sit at the feet of my seven-year-old and listen.

It’s genuinely good to see Father Mulcahy, who is the same soft-spoken punster that he was in M*A*S*H. He got a surgery to correct his deafness from the former show’s series finale, which was probably a smart move. Not that we shouldn’t or couldn’t have a deaf person on TV, but it would make communication more problematic for a guy who’s key job it is to talk and listen.

There’s a doctor who’s been showing around three upcoming med students the hospital, and he chooses right at the start of a procedure to bust into the room and observe at point-blank range. One of the guys faints at the rather tame description of the bone marrow biopsy. Afterward, Potter’s younger doctor friend tells him that he’s been given a $20,000 offer to go do medicine somewhere else. That doesn’t sound like much, but factoring in inflation from 1953 to now, that would be something like $192,000 today. Not too bad for a 27-year-old. The only catch is that if he doesn’t finish doing three years at the hospital, he’ll never be fully board certified. He surprises Potter by telling him that he’s already decided to stay for the experience.

So bad news for the bone marrow biopsy guy: He’s got leukemia. That’s not so surprising when the doctors discover that he was at Nagasaki and also at several atom bomb testings. If he WASN’T riddled with cancer, that would be the astounding thing. The soldier doesn’t take the news well, having flashbacks to his former Army chaplain telling him how beautiful and safe the A-bombs were. “Why am I going to die for doing what I was told?” he says to Mulcahy in anguish. Yup, AfterMASH still has all the drama but very little of the comedy. Makes you miss season one Hawkeye and Trapper John. Apparently this episode was nominated for an Emmy, mostly because of the commentary of how the military wasn’t probably treating and supporting radiation-exposed soldiers.

The doctors are frustrated that the government isn’t paying to support guys like this soldier, and both of them have their own struggles with wanting to leave. It’s a good conflict, if not that entertaining. In the end, they stick it out, even if there’s no happy resolution for the terminally ill soldier.

Season 2 Episode 5: Madness to His Method

Considering the reputation that this show has, it’s wild to think that AfterMASH got a second season. However, the first season actually didn’t do terrible in the ratings, and there were signs of letting the show grow into its own (particularly with the addition of a few new regulars). So let’s take a gander at what the second season looked like.

The opening credits shied away from the goofy ’50s montage to more of a sitcom standard: schmaltzy music, quick clips from the show, and pictures of the regulars looking all regular. The episode itself starts off with the gripping scene of Potter sitting on the can, composing a letter in the middle of the night. You know, like all well-adjusted people do. He’s writing to Sydney Freedman, the psychiatrist that sometimes showed up on M*A*S*H to dig into the minds of the 4077. In this case, Potter is relaying the weird events that have been going on in the VA hospital as of late.

It turns out that Klinger, now a married father of one, is a resident of the hospital’s psych ward thanks to a judge’s order. He’s faking, of course, but that’s what Klinger’s been doing ever since being drafted into the Army. He predicts a full recovery in a few days, but Potter isn’t happy with the sham. I have to say that so far, the writing and patter sounds a lot more comfortable and natural than the first season episode I saw, even approaching comedy at times. There’s also a bit more physical slapstick going on too, which feels forced but in the direction of M*A*S*H. Anyway, Klinger’s convinced that his roomie was also in the 4077, but as the guy doesn’t talk and the new psychiatrist doesn’t do anything but pat people on the shoulder, there’s no getting to the bottom of it.

Said psychiatrist turns out to be a woman, which makes everyone act all astounded because this is 1953 and a woman’s place is in the kitchen or building B-52 superfortresses, I guess. Klinger freaks because he’s “never been able to fool a woman in his life.” Potter approves of her devotion, though.

Klinger starts sessions with the doc and protests his sanity, although he eggs her on by wearing a bra under his bathrobe. Outside in the garden, Potter tries to connect with the mute soldier that he apparently stitched up back in the war. Klinger runs out and says the first genuinely funny line of the show: “I know it’s unfair of you to lie for me, but if the doctor asks you about my brief affair with a chicken, smile knowingly.” He’s worried that if the shrink finds him sane, he’ll end up going to the county jail instead of staying in the hospital.

Apparently this is part of a long-running storyline where Klinger assaulted a real estate agent then tried to break out of jail. He was found “not guilty” by reason of insanity, which is why he’s, erm, klinging to his crazy side so strongly here. Sorry. I’ll show myself out.

Father Mulcahey comes out all steamed about the hospital administrator being unreasonable and makes some not-so-veiled threats about him. “Easy, Father, you’re a priest,” Potter reminds him. “I was Irish first!” Mulcahey thunders. OK, second great line right there — and in the same scene. The bonehead administrator is removing personal effects and recreational equipment from around the hospital to get the place more in shape, and he’s decided to beef up the menu (even though it’ll bleed the hospital’s budget dry) to squash discontentment. The guy’s just trying to make the place a showpiece so he can leverage it for his future, which doesn’t sit right with Potter.

Hey! That’s the buzzer letting us know that it’s time for some uncomfortable sexual advances! First up is Klinger, who grabs and smooches Potter’s assistant in full view of the psychiatrist (who, hilariously, ignores him). Then the shrink goes for a mid-day bubble bath (?) in the hospital and has a doctor make unwelcome advances toward her. So she decides to stand up in the buff and be a bit aggressive herself, which scares him right out of the room and possibly the decade.

The storylines converge in the commissary, as Klinger’s decision to wear a uniform sets off the mute ex-soldier — who throws food at him. Hey, it’s a breakthrough of sorts. Cue a huge food fight, completely undoing the administrator’s plan, and Mulcahey is greatly pleased at the result. The shrink agrees to help Klinger, who does have problems, and Potter realizes that to stay sane, sometimes you got to cut loose once in a while. I love that he stealth chucks some cake at the administrator when the guy isn’t looking.

You know what? It’s not great television, but it was a passably entertaining half-hour that did a good job balancing drama and comedy. Plus, I really liked that there were continuing story elements that didn’t wrap up neatly by the end of the episode. Maybe this series got a worse rap than it deserved?