ALF aired on NBC from 1986 to 1990, a quirky sitcom about a Rodney Dangerfield-esque puppet who crashes his spaceship into the garage of a suburban family in the San Fernando Valley. The Tanner family (Willie, Kate and their kids Lynn and Brian) take him in and, true to form, hi-jinks ensue. It was a moderate hit, but probably ran its course after four seasons.
With the thirty-fifth anniversary of the show’s finale approaching, The Reality Register reached out to cast, crew, and staff who worked at Alien Productions (the show’s production company) for any remembrances or anecdotes to mark the occasion. After the stories of Max (Willie) Wright’s personal demons and struggles came to light following his untimely passing, we were prepared to hear stories from the set of conflict and sorrow. What we found was more surprising
Alien Productions gifted The Reality Register with an entire episode of ALF, filmed and edited, but never aired. We present to you our recap of, ALF S4 EP26, “Sound And Fury”, Directed by Paul Miller, Written by Bobby Butol.
The episode opens with Alf greeting Willie in the living room early in the morning. He’s sweaty, agitated, and paranoid. Willie’s been up all night reading the local paper. He has one paper in his hands and several on the couch. As usual, Willie is a man in crisis.
ALF
Hey Willie, wha..whatcha doin’? You okay, buddy?
WILLIE
I’m…just…dandy…Alf. In fact, I’ve never been better. It’s all coming together, Alf. The jigsaw pieces are falling into place. Look!
(WILLIE SHOWS A NEWSPAPER TO ALF)
June 3rd, the classified section. First column. Read it! Tell me what it says!
ALF
Sale at Delaney’s, 30% off ladies’ hosiery…
WILLIE
(RIPPING PAPER AWAY FROM ALF)
Not that column, you furball! Right here! “Hey Willie! The butcher is cutting, the baker is kneading, you’re dumb and old and your hairline’s receding!”
ALF
Wow, Willie. Who wrote that? Bill Shakespeare he is not!
WILLIE
There are more, Alf! Dozens! June 9th, June 21st, July 1st, the Fourth of July, Alf! That voice, it’s so familiar! And here’s the classified from today: “Hey Willie! First you got Mercury, then you got Venus, but you kind of look like Rob Lowe’s–”
ALF
Whoa there! This is some serious stuff! What are you gonna do about this, buddy?
WILLIE
(WALKING TOWARDS THE FRONT DOOR HOLDING TODAY’S PAPER)
I know just what I’m going to do, Alf. I’m going to my lawyer!
In the next break, Willie returns home, even more crazed and wild-eyed. He cashed out his retirement account and sold the land out from underneath the Tanner house, but in return, he is now the proud owner of the local newspaper, The Valley Tribune. He meets Alf in the attic to break the news.
WILLIE
(BREATHING HEAVILY, WRINGING HANDS)
Well, it’s done. No going back now.
ALF
What’cha talkin’ about, Willie?
WILLIE
Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires!
ALF
Hey, you’re scaring me Willie, need to sit down?
WILLIE
I did it, Alf. I bought the newspaper. It’s mine. I’m the CEO, Editor-In-Chief… but those names don’t seem right. No, no… Newsking. I’m the Newsking of The Valley Tribune, and when that maniac poet tries to take out another classified ad about me, well, guess who the check is coming to!
ALF
Slow down! It’s not like the poems were addressed to Yakov Smirnoff. Think of how many Willies there are in the San Fernando Valley! Are you sure they’re about you?
WILLIE
Oh, I know they’re about me. Those poems are so personal. Whoever wrote them is going to pay!
ALF
Yeah, with cash, check, Diner’s Club…
WILLIE
Alf! That’s not what I mean! I’m going to destroy them!
ALF
What do you know about running a newspaper, anyways? You’re a social worker, not a newspaperman. You asked me for help writing a birthday card to your mother! Which she loved, by the way.
WILLIE
I don’t need to know anything, Alf! I just need to put the best people around me. People who see my vision, and who will work 80 hours a week! And sleep at their desks!
ALF
Sheesh…
WILLIE
Yes? Do you have a problem with that?
ALF
No, no, I said…uh…“feet”. I’m thinking of partaking in a foot fetish. Um, how are Kate’s holding up?
Willie storms out of the attic to work on his master plan. After the next break, we see Willie in the newspaper office. He’s fielding calls from angry advertisers.
WILLIE
Yes, Mr. DeVito– Yes, I understand that “Baby, Stop Crying Preschool” has advertised with The Valley Tribune for a generation– Yes, Mr. DeVito! Yes, sir, I respect that, but you have to understand that the Valley Tribune is under new ownership now and the First Amendment– That’s correct, Mr. DeVito, if you advertise with us next week, your copy might run next to an ad for the Hell’s Angels again! You’re just going to have to live with that! Free speech is more important than…Mr. DeVito? Mr. DeVito?Frustrated, Willie decides that the name “The Valley Tribune” is what’s holding back his vision of the paper. After firing all the staff and with nobody else to consult, he changes the name to something masculine and intimidating that captures the essence of his brand and the roots of the Valley: ValTreX.
In the next scene, Willie hires Alf to be his only employee. He’s a reporter, salesman, and photographer, but he’s getting tired of Willie’s ego.
ALF
That’s all the articles you wanted, Willie. I dug up dirt on Diane Feinstein, wrote the Op-Ed saying the study on chewing tobacco being good for kids was “very interesting”, and smeared the guy who owns the carwash you don’t like. Just like you said.
WILLIE
What about the poet, Alf? Did you find the poet?
ALF
(LOOKS AROUND NERVOUSLY)
Oh, yeah, that guy…or lady! Could be a lady! Can’t rule that out. Yeah, no leads on the poet. And no new advertisers in the classifieds, either. It’s just the same doomsday preppers and adult bookstores. Speaking of which…
(ALF GRABS A COPY OF THE PAPER AND WALKS AWAY FROM WILLIE)
WILLIE
Alf! I need that poet! I need him dead! You don’t sleep until you find him!
ALF
Listen, I don’t need this kind of abuse from you, Willie! I’m outta here. Besides, Bob Guccioni pays three times as much for photos as you do, so consider this my resignation!
After the break, an extremely paranoid Willie, divorced from everyone he can trust, decides that the nosy neighbor Ochmoneks are behind the rude poetry. In order to test his theory, Willie invites Trevor and Raquel over to his house for a game of cards. They find 167 Helmdale Street mysteriously empty.
The Ochmoneks call out and search for Willie and Kate, finding nobody. The scene is strangely lacking dialogue, and ends on a prolonged reaction shot of the two looking in a bedroom door.
The shot holds for so long it’s uncomfortable, and there’s no explanation given of what they see or what happens to them. It cuts to black.
In the final segment, we see Willie in a small jail cell. There’s no laugh track, just the sound of Willie pacing the cell. He’s a broken, defeated man.
WILLIE
When is my lawyer coming to get me out of here? To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. I’ve lost it all. Kate? Kids? Are you there? Can you hear me? I itch. I need my ValTreX so I can let people know that this was a tale told by an idiot, full of–
(WILLIE SCRATCHES HIMSELF AND STANDS UP, ALARMED. HE’S STARING AT SOMETHING ONLY HE CAN SEE. HE’S TERRIFIED)
Behold, look! If thou canst nod, speak too, Ochmoneck!
(WILLIE SQUARES OFF WITH AN IMAGINARY FOE, THEN RELAXES)
Why so, being gone, I am Willie again.
(WILLIE SITS BACK ON A COT, HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS)
Those poems! This barren scepter! Here I sit, a prisoner, while that poet lives to rudely rhyme. All these months he has tormented me, through August, July, June.
June…
(WILLIE CHECKS HIS WATCH AND THEN FRANTICALLY DIGS THROUGH HIS POCKETS, LOOKING FOR SOME MISSING CLUE)
When did Alf take that mail order poetry class?
[EXUNT. ALARUMS]
Ronald Sampson
