I have always hated Thursdays. I consider them insufferable twenty-four periods you have to wade through to get to Friday and the start of the weekend. But long before I figured that out, I just always hated the day and couldn’t tell why. Then, one day, it dawned on me—Thursdays were the days Mrs. Rivers, our Principal and Math teacher at my elementary school, scheduled her tests. And the first F I ever received was on one of her math tests. I have hated Thursdays ever since.
Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about television. My generation grew up on a cornucopia of fascinating television shows for kids—The Adventures of Pete and Pete, The Ren & Stimpy Show—heck, even slightly lamer affairs like Salute Your Shorts and Hey Dude at the very least captivated our attention for years to come. I would have watched television all day long if I could have back then. But I didn’t just like the commercial stuff, Nickelodeon being in some golden age where they still showed reruns of Canadian fare like Sharon, Lois, and Bram, You Can’t Do That On Television, and Today’s Special. I also liked good old wholesome, educational PBS, particularly the game show version of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, but especially Square One Television, a show intended to interest children in mathematics.
It is the crux of some mammoth conundrum that the thing I hated most on Thursdays was the subject of one of my favorite after-school shows. Of course, looking at the math on the show now, it’s below what would be considered today even primary school math. But I can’t guarantee I understood the math because my left brain has, well let’s say, dead spots. But Square One really was entertaining television and the reason it stays with me to this day is because of one of its recurring segments—Mathnet, a parody of Dragnet that showed a group of policing mathematicians who strove “to cogitate and solve.”
It might seem bizarre to think of Dragnet as a good basis for parody for a children’s program, but in the 1980s, Dragnet was still a massive part of popular culture in syndication and even spawned a film in 1987. Mathnet was narrated by a Joe Friday-sounding female mathematician. She spoke with the same frankness and deadpan tone of Jack Webb. In the early seasons, the character was Kate Monday, played by Beverly Leech. In the later seasons, reset from L. A. to New York, she was Pat Tuesday, played by Toni DiBuono. Her partner (on both coasts) was George Frankly, played by an oft-seen, seasoned television actor named Joe Howard.
Many great actors played small roles on Mathnet, including (incredibly) James Earl Jones who was Chief of the LAPD Thad Green (yes, Mathnet was a division of the LAPD, though hopefully softer on the streets). Other guest stars included Marcia Wallace, Wayne Knight, and even “Weird Al” himself.
It is not hard to see what pulled me to the show. I grew up, also, on Nick at Nite and Dragnet was one of its signature programs in the years they still played shows from the 1950s and ‘60s. That channel, literally “Nickelodeon at Night,” introduced me to all the greats, The Dick Van Dyke show especially, but also criminally underrated shows like The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis plus, later on, the joys of Taxi and The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
So, Dragnet was something I watched a lot and admired, which is why the comical ’87 film version with Dan Aykroyd and Tom Hanks rubbed me the wrong way. “This is a comedy?” I said to Dad, who took me to see it when I was six or so. He interpreted this in a funnier way than I intended because the movie is shockingly unfunny in addition to dragging Dragnet through the mud.
For a small retrospective for Mathnet, I want to remember two especially good, often-played-in-rerun episodes, one from the L. A. years, one from the NYC years. From LA, we had “The Trial of George Frankly,” which hit another of my buttons, loving legal shows like Perry Mason.
In the episodes, Frankly is framed for a bank robbery and finds himself in the dock, representing himself. Unlike most episodes of the show, math didn’t quite save the day as much as the detective work of Frankly and Monday. Frankly discovers that two men he put in prison impersonated his likeness so that the video evidence pointed squarely at him. The two prisoners learned about make-up and costuming through the prison’s drama troupe.
But the greatest episodes by far are the series known as “The Case of the Mystery Weekend.” I’m giving myself away again, because these are all parodies of my favorite TV genres—legal shows, detective shows, and mysteries. (I have broader tastes, but I use the term genre in a loving, prodding way).
In this case, Frankly and Tuesday head upstate for a mystery weekend game, Frankly dressed as Sherlock Condo (it’s modern) and Tuesday as Dr. Whatsit. As chance would have it, a directional sign with a pointing finger has been blown by the weather in the wrong direction and they end up at Whitts End, a dark manor house. They believe everything inside is a game, but it turns out there is something more nefarious afoot.
Of course, the situation at Whitts End looks like a game—even a live reenactment of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None—where there is a butler, Peeved, who has to prepare a dinner party for the anonymous guests of his anonymous boss. There is also a collection of curiously named individuals who don’t know why they’ve all been brought together. Like Christie’s story, the theme is they have all committed crimes. The difference is they are all innocent, mathematics having been the lynch pin to acquit them of their charges.
But obviously someone thinks justice was not served as each guest disappears, the mastermind leaving behind only a clipping of their acquittal from the papers and a statue of Justice. In the end, the butler did it. Peeved was a former court stenographer who grew up hating math and believed all the guests were guilty.
The plot may seem clichéd and a shameless rip-off, but it is the charm of the performances and the surprisingly good costumes and sets that make it such a pleasure to watch, even now. Math is used throughout—to calculate the number of hours it will take the detectives to get to the Mystery Weekend party, the color wheel is introduced to show a pattern of the kidnappings (as each guest is given a differently-colored room). Lord knows now how much I even thought of the math in the episode, but what is clear is how much the creators tried to both entertain (in a genuine sense) and teach a subject that, in America, has been a week-spot in our educational system for many years (and seemingly getting worse).
Mathnet was a charming show and I hope you use the links below to enjoy these episodes, wonderfully preserved on Youtube. There are times I think I would get rid of all streaming services and be alone with my Youtube Premium. I’m a Youtube junkie, I’ll admit. How wonderful to see what could be so much lost media preserved by fans and given back to us today. A wonderful use of technology amidst a world of terrible uses.
To Mathnet, may it be preserved and appreciated!
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