Without watching the show, it's easy to be derisive about its seemingly simplistic mix of car chases, cartoonishly corrupt police officials and honest, down-home good ol' boys. It's easy to be turned off by a car called the General Lee, sporting a horn that plays "Dixie." It's easy to laugh at the buffoonish antics that seem to fill up each hour-long episode.
But behind its cretinous surface lies a rich pool of entertainment and cultural knowledge. For starters, the show is packed with all manner of humorous occurrences. In 15 minutes of a single episode, one might see a fat man break a lollipop on a radio, a local police dog go on strike, a fat man fall over and bust up his cigar, and numerous cars jumping over or falling into country ponds.
The thing is, each episode is just completely stuffed to the gills with events. They aren't profound. They are, admittedly, sometimes formulaic, or slapstick. But there's a lot of action going on. Much of it is genuinely funny, well-coordinated and scored with extremely appropriate banjo strumming.
Plus the show knows its audience. Old timey friends and relatives always show up and bail out the Duke boys when things look their worst. Uncle Jesse always knows the backroads like back of his beard. There's a character named Enos (pronounced "Anus"). Whenever anyone's in a hurry, they're joyful and mischievous, not overworked and sophisticatedly stressed-out.
While change sometimes comes to Hazzard County, it's always superficial. The traditional values of simplicity, community and courtesy always reign supreme.
But if "The Dukes of Hazzard" represents the values TNN was founded on, there are number of programs that contradict them, and point toward an increasingly ambitious, diverse and nationally aggressive network.
Look at the network's schedule. It's hard not to wonder: Why "The Wonder Years?" Why "Miami Vice?" And next fall we can ask: Why, for the love of Klinzhai, "Star Trek?"
These programs don't relate to the traditional values and earthy, greasy foods that make the South great. In fact, they're solidly mainstream, urban and conventional.
So what gives? As it turns out, TNN isn't as Southern as you'd think. Heck, Wisconsinite Tom "Luke Duke" Wopat went to school at UW-Madison. TNN's rustic surface leaves you surprised at how well it understands its viewers' desire for city comforts. There are ads for e-commerce hosting. There are ads for the season finale of "Queer as Folk," scored with music by The Smiths. There are ads for fancy, high-tech online brokerages.
And there's an ad that boasts: "Cellphones! Everybody's got them! Now you can change yours into a hand-free speakerphone like the kind in those expensive luxury cars!"
That's right, insists the ad, you can now "enjoy the same conveniences as the drivers of those expensive luxury cars!"
The screen is then filled by footage of an urban jackass driving a BMW while yakking away happily.
Say what? Country folk know better'n this, right? They don't want to be the sissified little city slicker. They want to roll rocks off the side of Stone Mountain right onto his fancified Yuropeen strutbox.
Or so we yankees might think. The advertising and programming of TNN tells a different story: Country-folk want the luxury and sophistication enjoyed by city-folk without giving up an ounce of comfort or traditional values.
Surprise: Like all Americans, they want to have it both ways. And like all American companies, TNN tells them it's possible.
Update: 05.30.02: TNN is threatening to pull Dukes of Hazzard! Holy crap! Fight the power, and sign the petition to save it...
James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)