It was the show that sat alongside Monty Python's "Flying Circus" as one of the most early irreverent shows ever to become a comedy classic, but the cable access lampoonery series "Second City TV" was a show plagued by misfortune. A lot of people ended up fighting over their baby when comparisons were drawn to "Saturday Night Live," and the pre-shot splendor of "SCTV" has always been an exploitable disadvantage. However, you could argue that consummate comedic writing and a cast of clever performers were what made "SCTV" so much more vital. The show followed a strict conceptual outline that showed a fictional Canada-based TV station that was full of odd programs that seemed to perfectly reflect the backstage personalities of the even more oddball personalities behind the camera. The show was formed in 1976, but post-midnight/early morning syndication doomed the show until NBC finally picked up a 90-minute version of the show in 1981, and in a few years later, when Cinemax ended up with the time slot, "SCTV" got the plug pulled from it. It's got a wild history to it, and those who understood the show's cult-rewarded daringness were wishing on a prayer for a VHS/DVD release of the classic Melonville heroes' finest moments.

I myself never got the chance to see anything from the "SCTV" world until they finally released SCTV NETWORK 90 - VOLUME 1 on DVD this year. I've heard so much about it: the "Great White North/Kanadian Korner" with the unscripted Canuck ramblings of beer-swilling, back bacon-chomping brothers Bob and Doug McKenzie ("Take off, hosehead!"); the hackneyed monster movie presentations of "Monster Chiller Horror Theatre," hosted by the miserable Count Floyd Robertson, who also doubles as the news anchor alongside the incorrigible commentator patter of Earl Camembert; the showbiz kids Bobby Bittman and Lola Heatherton, both of whom are the kind of celebrities ripe for the targeting of tabloids; program director Edith Prickley, a frisky, quipping lady in leopard-skin garbs; Johnny LaRue, hotshot actor and director whose artistic decisions tend to get him in more notoriety than he calls for; and owner Guy Caballero, the big cheese who rides a wheelchair simply for respect. I couldn’t believe it until I saw the "Network 90" shows on DVD, and I saw all that was promised and then some.

Now here I am to tell you that SCTV NETWORK 90 - VOLUME 1 is perhaps the best comedy release on DVD this year, and one for all fans of insane, crafty humor all around the world. "SCTV" is not only on the air, but it's on the shelves, and it's beckoning you to turn in and tune out.

The cast alone should make you cream. These are some of the greatest improvisational talents ever assembled for a show in history. We're talking the late John Candy, a husky and humble hero whose belly size was nowhere as big as his gift for wild humor. Eugene Levy, whose been experiencing a big career resurgence now but has always kept his poofy black hair and oversized eyebrows to his personal advantage and also was a game improvisational comedian. Andrea Martin and Catherine O'Hara, two of the peppiest, most hilarious comediennes I've ever seen. Rick Moranis, who is a God blessed talent hiding behind thick glasses, a mousy demeanor and a wild array of impersonation abilities. Joe Flaherty, the man behind some of the more classic characters as Guy Caballero and Count Floyd, and also every bit as wonderful without the disguises. And Dave Thomas, not to be confused with the Wendy's founder of the same name, is a weasel-faced dynamo of writing and performing energy who has been an active representative of SCTV over the years. They are the Magnificent Seven of sketch comedy, and their involvement on this particular cycle of "SCTV" will make you appreciate the show all over again.

Brandon Tartikoff, who was the head at NBC, scheduled the 90 minute incarnation of the show to come on late at night to replace that old standby, "SNL." Indeed, "SCTV" feels kind of formatted like "SNL" in the extended form, complete with musical guests and often unconnected skits (a lot them will be familiar to the most hardcore hoser). However, "SCTV" had many things "SNL" didn't have, like wraparound storylines that made each episode more cohesive and also more riotous. Also, "SCTV" utilized their musical guests into their sketches, like when Gil Fischer shows a tape of him going out on a fishing trip with the Tubes, who later perform an impassioned rendition of "Sushi Girl" where singer Fee Waybill chops a fish and covers it in rice, taking a bite out of it once he gets back to his microphone. And although one could argue that the American debut format of "SCTV" reprised familiar sketches whilst containing newer ones, the result was always fresh and ferocious.

Shout! Factory were previously responsible for the loving treatment on the now appreciated "Freaks and Geeks," a show that died before its time. Now here they go with the show that inspired the likes of Ben Stiller, David Cross and Bob Oedenkirk to try their luck in the world of insane TV/pop culture-parodying bravado. SCTV NETWORK 90 - VOLUME 1 is five DVDs worth of inspired comedy that stands the test of time and also touches more influences than ever anticipated. When you think of subversive, chances are "SCTV" will fit in the equation, and the work of the writers/performers in the show's canon pulled off some of the best comedic moments ever to air on TV.

I myself notice that game show spoofs are abundant now than before, with the "Celebrity Jeopardy!" spoofs on "SNL" relying on the same crude joke involving Sean Connery torturing Alex Trebek as well as having clueless contestants buzzing in before the question even gets a single syllable uttered. However, "SCTV" pulled off one of the earliest and best spoofs with "High Q," the opening skit on the first episode on the first disc of this set. Eugene Levy's hapless emcee, Alex Trebel, endures incompetent young scholars vying for a scholarship prize, with one of the young challengers in particular (Catherine O'Hara as Margaret Meehan from Parkdale High) buzzing in and answering periodically without even hearing the entire question. And that's another thing to notice whenever a comparison between the shows erupts: "SNL" being a live show was defined by the interaction and activity of a live audience, instructed to laugh at all the right punch lines and dopey one-liners (at least in today's version of "SNL"). "SCTV" had the benefit of being taped in Edmonton without a specter hanging over the principals, with a more natural and subtle swing to the sketches.

Although this is so, the presence of a laugh track still befuddles me.

So much to talk about, so much paragraph space to fill. Let's just talk about the discs, with each of the first four discs containing two full-length hour-plus episodes which present the shows uncut (well, for the most part they are) and commercial-free. The fifth disc just contains one episode (a total of 9, which was all that was aired on the first cycle of the fourth season), and all five discs contain a separate bonus feature. But I'll get to those later.

One On The Town (aired May 15, 1981)
Guy Caballero rolls waywardly down the ramp upon his introduction, but then walks perfectly toward the front of the camera whilst pulling his own wheelchair ("Who's the idiot who built this ramp?!"). Caballero explains the decision at NBC to make the show 90 minutes long, with many golden classics promised. "Why don't you sit back, SHUT UP, and enjoy the show." What an introduction!

After the aforementioned "High Q" show, which is the classic game show spoof I so raved about, we see a promo for "The Merv Griffin Show." Merv (Moranis) performs a jazzy piano version of Donna Summer's "On the Radio," talks to terrorist Yasser Arafat and Liberace about their coat linings, and also gets Incredible Hulk make-up applied to him. "English for Beginners" showcases the classic Andrea Martin character of Perini Scleroso, an immigrant being trained English yet has a slight grasp on it herself. This tends to drive the people whom she encounters out of this world. We then get a hilarious commercial for Dr. Benson, a credit psychiatrist played by Dave Thomas with full car dealer relish, and an interstitial by Edith Prickley whilst her belongings are getting moved.

One of the best bits is a hilariously skewed "Leave It to Beaver: 25th Anniversary" episode which depicts the Beaver as a 30-year-old loser (Candy) who takes the advice of Whitey (Harold Ramis) and kills the snobbish Eddie (Thomas) in cold blood right after Eddie admits to Wally that he’s been gay for as long as he can remember. And to think that this was before anybody thought to reunite the real "Beaver" cast. It is followed by an episode of the McKenzie Brothers’ "Great White North," the topic concerning the best groups, and an ad for the show "Dan Money," about a man who flaunts his wallet around every chance he gets.

"One On the Town" is presented in a two-part series which shows Earl Camembert unsuccessfully attempting to secure an interview with musical guest Levon Helm (former drummer for The Band), who performs "Sweet Peach Georgia Wine" during a sound check and a cover of "Summertime Blues" in the subsequent concert scene. Earl eventually gives up and goes to buy some fast food in a large line, whilst his cameramen capture backstage banter among Helm and his band. In between them, we see a hilarious take-off on "The Millionaire," whose estate has now been reduced to a measly $50 that a personal male secretary has to give away to an undiscriminating, broke couple who constantly fight each other, and a dead-on Connie Francis lampoon starring Andrea Martin as Connie Franklin, whose mockingly maudlin "20 Depressing Hits" compilation is plugged in one particular commercial.

The show concludes with Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas doing spot-on impersonations of Woody Allen and Bob Hope in the accomplished satire "Play It Again, Bob." In it, Woody envisions a project starring Bob, but is shot down until Bing Crosby's spirit suggests he call Bob in the middle of the night and asks him to play golf, which Woody doesn't even know how to play. The combination of the meek personality of Woody Allen and the showmanship of Bob Hope prove one of the greatest opposite attractions in sketch comedy to date.

Also featured: Joyce De 1/2-Witt plugging "Half Legs" stockings and a promo for an upcoming "Masterpiece Theater" episode telling the story of a veterinarian who loves to put animals to sleep with machine guns.

Polynesiantown (aired May 22, 1981)
Opening with a one-two punch, we get yet another LP advertisement, this one for the 5 Neat Guys' "Neatest Hits." All five male members of the troupe are presented as a squeaky clean, nerdy doo wop vocal ensemble responsible for such songs as "Patsy Has the Largest Breasts in Town," "Who Made the Egg Salad Sandwiches?" and "Let's Have A Party in My Rec Room." Keep your eyes focused on Joe Flaherty as the "N" member of the band, whose presented as a burnout with a grouchy face, a beer belly, and an impaired sense of coordination. Could it be Floyd Robertson? We then see a clip from "The Tim Ishimuni Show," with Dave Thomas playing an annoying Tokyo talk show host who interviews a gigantic radioactive monster called Grogan, who admits to the world that he's not as intimidating as he looks and actually has a sensitive side he fulfilled by writing a new book.

We see our first glimpses of the characters Lola Heatherton and Bobby Bittman on an episode of "The Sammy Maudlin Show." Lola is like a cross between Sally Field, Deborah Harry, and a certified schizophrenic ("I love you Sammy Maudlin! I want to bear your children!"), and Bobby Bittman is a Jerry Lewis-type Borsht Belt personality who loves making surprise appearances and exposes a hilarious faux-outtake reel from a congressional hearing about drug abuse in Hollywood, hilarious primarily for the concept alone but with an execution that happens to match. The digs at celebrity and the travails they go through make excellent comedy in these Sammy Maudlin sketches, and this is an unrivaled gem.

The centerpiece of this is the title presentation, a Johnny LaRue film called "Polynesiantown," a nod to "Chinatown" with John Candy's LaRue in the Jack Nicholson role and Catherine O'Hara playing the mysterious lady a la Faye Dunaway. The story is about how LaRue opens a Polynesian-styled restaurant that suffers a couple indignities when the restaurant critics rag on him for the drinks not being free and his musical act Big Momma tanks. However, he manages to save an appearance by Dr. John (he performs "Iko Iko" and "Such A Night") after unsuccessfully trying to convince him to go Hawaiian, and all seems well, until LaRue learns that the Molokai sauce his barbecue ribs are cooked in are bad. Not only that, the gems John gave to LaRue to protect have been stolen! Both the film's "stylish" use of a closing crane shot as well as a negative review by Newsday writer Marvin Kitman were the fodder for a later episode.

Andrew Lloyd Weber's musical story of Eva Peron's life is spoofed in a promo for "Indira!," starring Indira Gandhi in the song-studded story of her life and Slim Whitman as her lover. Kanadian Korner finds our two toque-donning friends from the past episode engaging in argument over a salary cut, and we get to hear Doug McKenzie tell his brother to "take off!" John Candy turns off one of his understated comic turns as Yuri Rozmanovich, a Russian bodybuilder who ends up getting his own variety special. And Ben Bumme promotes a trio of films in a British Film Festival presentation, all of them concerning an angry young man named Billy (all played by Dave Thomas) trying to escape the numbing influence of his working class environment. One of the featured films is "Clockwork Leathernecks," a hilarious take about how Billy is attempted to be cured of his antisocial attitude toward fish & chips.

Finally, we see a classic early episode of "The Gerry Todd Show," with Rick Moranis as the title persona, an avid videophile and on-air DJ pre-MTV who airs promotional shorts of Tom Monroe (Moranis) doing silly lounge covers of The Vapors' "Turning Japanese" and The Police's "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da." His sponsor is Crazy Hy, an Amish TV/satellite dish salesman played to restrained yet awesome perfection by Levy.

Also featured: Donny and Marie Osmond are plugging a pesticide called Kwallada, an asthmatic Brenda Vaccaro moaning her way through an advertisement for tampons, Rick Moranis as a hot-tempered film producer modeled after Joel Siegel who gets his own talk show ("The Larry Siegel Show"), G. Gordon Liddy's "Will: The Movie," and a promo for a show called "The Rosemans."

Southside Fracas (aired May 29, 1981)
Perini Scleroso is back, and this time as one of the hired hands at "SCTV," the Vice President in charge of coordination. Guy Caballero decides to have her present an editorial about illegal aliens, but instead, she sits in Guy's beloved wheelchair while he's away and delivers an impromptu speech. This shows the first time we see a background wraparound story binding the sketches, also known as a "runner." Also presented as new material are a series of promos for "Melvin & Howard," where Melvin picks up a series of men named Howard including Congressman Howard Baker and late sportscaster Howard Cosell, and a two-part episode of "The Fracases," about a spicy-tempered married couple who are about to wed their daughter Bunny off, but the wedding reception turns into a series of ill-fated mishaps that prompts father Bill to call the party off on the double. Southside Johnny & The Ashbury Jukes perform a couple of songs, "All I Want is Everything" and "Fever." All these new presentations are fine, if not truly outstanding, but are easily eclipsed by the excellent comedy presented in the many holdovers from past seasons.

Norman Gorman, a Christopher Walken-type Brooklynite played by Joe Flaherty, opens up the programming day with a lesson in "New Yorkese 101." Promotional previews of a Lola Heatherton concert as well as the exploits of craven cowboy "Yellowbelly" (Candy) are leave you wanting more, and we are treated to an accurately giddy Siskel & Ebert send up. In one of the more obscure but always welcome bits, Rick Moranis takes on Dick Cavett as he has a one-on-one interview with...DICK CAVETT! And Count Floyd's late night picture show, "Monster Chiller Horror Theater," airs an Ingmar Bergman art house film called "Whisper of the Wolf" that is as scary as an episode of "Schoolhouse Rock."

Also featured: "Only For Women," a female talk show that seems on the surface to celebrate independence, but instead turns into a weepfest about how the host and her guest are inherently lonely and unhappy, and also a great in person appearance of Harvey K-Tel (Thomas) on Lou Jaffe's "Speaking of Talk."

Compilation (aired June 19, 1981)
All of the sketches in this particular episode are previously aired, but the bulk of them are all golden greats. For instance, the various promos for "Taxi Driver" which feature Woody Allen and Gregory Peck among others playing Travis Bickle doing his "You talkin' to me?" routine, the retro game show "What's My Shoe Size?," a hilarious cooking show featuring Edith Prickley stuffing a turkey to the tune of "Macho Man," an episode of the "Sammy Maudlin Show" where Bobby Bittman is performing a routine with a giant telephone receiver but is occasionally interrupted by Maudlin's surprise guests, Lee A. Iococca's "Rock Concert" which features gut-busting performances/parodies of Barbara Streisand, Slim Whitman, Gino Vanelli & Ringo Starr, and Perini Scleroso staring as Eliza Doolittle in "My Fair Lady."

The two favorite sketches on this episode are Eugene Levy's rhythmically challenged and hopelessly nebbish Rockin' Mel Slirrup hosting his own Don Kirshner-style rock concert called "Mel's Rock Party." Dave Thomas plays Richard Harris, who performs an extended edition of "MacArthur Park" that ends with someone hurling a brick at his chest. And also, the final sketch of the bunch, "Shock Theater," wherein a young boy who so desperately wants to hear a scary story before he goes to bed awakens what may be the most unwanted response imaginable from his dad. It may be a greatest hits compilation, but at least the hits just keep on coming.

Lunchtime Street Beef (aired July 3, 1981)
In this episode's runner story, playboy Johnny LaRue is chewed out by Guy Caballero for the expensive crane shot at the end of "Polynesiantown" that went over the budget, and is also facing the failure of his movie head-on. His only chance at saving his career with "SCTV" lies in whether or not Johnny can successfully perform a new afternoon on-street discussion show called "Street Beef." It's one man, one microphone, and absolutely no production values. LaRue is scared and demands both William Morris and Larry Siegel help him, but to no avail. LaRue ends up going on with the show but ends up in the middle of a riot that brews between fans and detractors of "Polynesiantown."

Musical guest Robert Gordon is introduced in perhaps this episode's great dead zone by Walter Cronkite and David Brinkley as they do coverage of a space shuttle launch. Unfortunately, he's a wooden guest performer, as evidenced not only by his acting, but a dull rendition of the Marshall Crenshaw-penned "Someday, Someway."

All the material in between are indeed repeats of older sketches. We get the "Fillips Milk of Amnesia" commercial, a plug for "Phil's Nails," some more of the "Great White North" with the topics being back bacon and snow chains, a clip from "Johnny Dark Always Rings Twice" used in a special about the worst acting in Hollywood, two "Sunrise Semester" lectures relating to mankind's ability to do impersonations and the female habit of faking orgasms, and "The Grapes of Mud," a Steinbeck redux set in the Southern world.

Moral Majority (aired July 10, 1981)
This is the first of many Emmy-winning episodes. The wraparound story concerns Guy Caballero desperately trying to keep his programming inoffensive and to steer clear of the ire of any pressure groups in order to secure a $25 million sponsorship from Sunbright Detergent. He vows to kiss tail, but "Critic's Corner" host Bill Needle, Dave Thomas' out-of-control critical mouthpiece, says the wrong thing concerning his opinion on the moral majority, and he has to apologize immediately in order to keep Sunbright from turning away. He even signs off with a box of detergent on his table. The sponsors decide Needle would be the perfect spokesperson, and Guy pleads to Bill to consider the financial benefits.

The new material on this episode are what may be the most consummate comedic sketches to date. "The Merv Griffith Show: Return to Mayberry" stars Rick Moranis' Merv Griffin as Andy Griffith, Eugene Levy as a wonderfully cracked Floyd the Barber, and John Candy as the character of Otis, who gets Opie drunk taking him on a fishing trip. Andrea Martin is hilarious as Mrs. Falbo, the enchanted host of a kiddie show ("Mrs. Falbo's Tiny Town") who gets in a car accident on the way to the building, and her Messenger companion is played to a T by Mr. Candy. I cracked up at every moment of this sketch. We are treated to the National Midnight Star taking their tabloid trash from the pages to the newsroom, and the stories are about as funny (and perhaps funnier) as the best "SNL Weekend Update"/"Daily Show" segment. Also, there's "Dr. Tongue's 3-D House of Stewardesses," a "Monster Chiller Horror Theatre" special presentation which I will leave for you to discover.

Speaking of Floyd, we also see the character of news anchor Floyd Robertson returning to host "SCTV News" following his stint at the Rolling Hills Rehabilitation Center ("They may not stop your drinking, but maybe you can cut down"). Following a brief ad for the institution, we see Earl Camembert and Floyd Robertson hosting the latest headlines from around Melonville, like how Johnny LaRue's car was blown up in response to the success of his jiggle show "Johnny's Angels." Earl Camembert delivers a heartfelt commentary concerning Guts, something he rags on Floyd Robertson for having.

The show ends with "The Gerry Todd Show," which in this particular episode has a few laughs at the expense of Michael McDonald, whose Doobie Brothers contributions are used in a carpet store advertisement (with vocal re-recording), whose "What A Fool Believes" keyboard track is used as the musical backdrop for Tom Monroe's cover version of Petula Clark's "Downtown," and whom appears (as played by Moranis) in the video for Christopher Cross' "Ride Like the Wind," attempting to make it to the recording studio microphone on time in order to sing his back-up vocals. We also see a classic video from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, only the Crosby member of the band is actually heard crooning "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas..."

I also found the commercials on this particular episode to be hilarious. A new wave-styled plug for Poochare All Meat Dog Food, the hilariously lobotomized Sunbright Detergent ads talking to suburban housewives (all played by O'Hara), a sneak preview of a new variety show starring Brooke Shields and her mother Terry, the Rock Concert starring Big Jim McBob (Flaherty) and Billy Sol Hurok (Candy) and featuring such combustible guest performers as Randy Newman, Patti Smith, the Village People & Helen Reddy, and also John Candy’s classic "Harry's Discount Sex Shop" bit. In other words, this is the best episode of the bunch.

Pledge Week (aired July 17, 1981) "Just because we're a commercial network doesn't mean we make money," states Guy Caballero as he kicks off "Pledge Week" on SCTV. All the stars come out to celebrate, from Bobby Bittman and his oversized telephone to Lola Heatherton and her rather interesting ways of making people put in their donations. Even the Elephant Man shows up, but when he accidentally bumps into someone at the cafeteria, the crowds turn on him and start to chase him. He is eventually led to safety (or maybe not?) by Dr. Tongue (Candy) and his sidekick Bruno (Levy's play actor Woody Tobias, Jr.).

Mel Slirrup also celebrates the 25th Anniversary of "Mel's Rock Pile" by having his very first guest performer, Roy Orbison, show up to perform "Oh Pretty Woman" and "Workin' For The Man." Everything that can possibly go wrong in the 20 years since the old, memory-damaged Mel first told his dancers what a spot dance was does, with Mel unable to either remember the names of his old regulars, devoting himself to a big surprise that is easily foreseen by one of the old dancers, and also showing he's still unable to interview Roy Orbison standing up.

"The Farm Film Report" showcases the cinematic tastes of explosion-loving rednecks Big Jim McBob and Billy Sol Hurok, Edith Prickley leads an expedition into the Gir Forest to search for a jungle boy, the McKenzies' "Kanadian Korner" and Bill Needle's "Critic's Corner" air on the same day, and short story purist Hugh Betcha reads a passage from O'Henry's "The Private Booth" only to end up irritated with a bait-and-switch ending involving a hungry lion. All these, plus more excellent commercials.

Bouncin' Back to You (aired July 24, 1981)
Lola Heatherton is set to appear on her own hour-long special, but when she makes an appearance on Bill Needle's new morning show "Wrong Side of the Bed" hopped up on amphetamines, Guy Caballero decides to cancel the special. However, when Johnny LaRue makes a comment about her that explodes into an accidental public declaration of her death by newscaster Earl Camembert, Caballero is pressured into having the show back on. However, when a quivering, off-key Lola goes on the air and suffers a meltdown live on TV where she badmouths all her former lovers, Guy regrets ever making the decision.

The show opens with another sneak preview of an upcoming variety show, this one starring film critic Gene Shalit (Levy) as a singing, dancing critic who performs comedic routines with special guests Gene Siskel (Flaherty), Roger Ebert (Thomas), and Rhoda Barrett (O‘Hara). Both the hot-headed tennis pro John McEnroe and prize fighter Jake LaMotta lend their names to a couple product placements from, respectively, a coffee company and a Raging Bull-B-Q diner. The other highlights include "The Fishin' Musician," with Gil Fischer and musical guests The Tubes viewing a tape of them fishing for large-mouthed bass. The Tubes perform "Sushi Girl" and, later on, "Talk To Ya Later." Just like Dr. John and Roy Orbison, their actual involvement in the sketches are worth some serious laughs.

Also featured: Harvey K-Tel promotes the Product Crusher, and the Movie of the Week presentation of "The Nobel," based upon a 1966 movie called "The Oscar" and concerning the story of a corrupt wannabe doctor who steals his former lover's research and ends up competing for the Nobel Prize, with Bob Hope presenting the winner.

The Great White North (aired July 31, 1981) Bob and Doug McKenzie are the focal point in the wraparound plotline for this particular episode. Fearing that they don't have a really good focus like "Money Talk$" host Brian Johns, who inquires at great and straining length about the wealth and worth of many a millionaire's material possessions, they try to find the one perfect topic. Johnny LaRue lures the McKenzies to join him at a nightclub on the promise his female companions, the Gerbils, will be there, but he's just attempting to sucker them again. But when Johnny and Brian are arrested at the club, the hosers decide to steal Brian's idea of interviewing rock performer Ian Thomas (performing his songs "Hold On" and "Pilot"). However, when the McKenzie brothers intrude on Ian Thomas and his band with a video camera, Thomas gets even by walking to the next room and shooting them during their show.

The other main piece on this is an extended episode of "Fantasy Island," where Ricardo Montalban's Boss (Levy) and his wee sidekick Patoo (Candy) turn two glammed-out metal musicians into Hope & Crosby, and contains a hilarious scene where a severely horny Patoo makes love with a stradavarius violin. The episode then moves into a slick reference to "Casablanca," where the various Island visitors find themselves stuck at Rick's Café American. The film nods are abundant in this particular segment, as are the plot twists, and the result is an amazingly structured and witty treat that shows you the vast creative pool these talented people waded in.

Also featured: advertisements for a bowel-cleansing coffee called "Max Lax," Norman Gorman from the "New Yorkese 101" show performing Shakespeare in a park, Johnny LaRue's exercise show from the very first "SCTV" episode, the one-man army "Harry Filth," and an episode of "The Heys of Our Lives." The broadcast signs off with a performance of the national anthem by Mel Torme, who intersperses it with lyrics from "Brother, Can You Spare A Dime" and "Jeepers Creepers."

Disc one contains SCTV Remembers, one of a few new documentary pieces featuring interviews with the performers behind SCTV. At 30:48, this program is chock full of clips and interviews with five of the seven troupe members of the show (John Candy's dearly departed and I don't know why Rick Moranis isn't here), as well as writer/performer Harold Ramis and executive producer Andrew Alexander. The program tends to jump wildly from topic to topic, as we begin with Eugene Levy and Joe Flaherty sitting together talking about how NBC proposed a sanitized version of the show with alternate versions of known characters (silly executives) and eventually kicks into how the female cast members coped with writing around a male majority table, how Dave Thomas approached Bob Hope in real life, and just basic conceptual information concerning the show and the characters. The performers definitely look back in storytelling recollection and deliver plenty of fine information, and it was a great idea to have paired Levy with Flaherty and Martin with O'Hara for the interviews.

Ramis points out the comedic equivalent of jazz is improvisation in Origins of SCTV, a 25:35 program on disc two. The Second City troupe's legendary beginnings in Chicago in 1959, where Alan Arkin and Barbara Harris were just a couple of the early members in a 1961 piece of archival footage that is featured in this piece. Interviews with the principals as well as co-founder/producer Bernard Sahlins and director Del Close are featured. The middle part of the 1950s were kind of a somber time for humor as learned in this one, and we see how SCTV came together and thrived, the ambition and scale of the Second City format, and the eventual awareness and "SCTV" conception that came to be in the Great White North. This is a heavily informative piece that benefits from a lot of fine interviews and a tight interview structure that gets you interested in the past of Second City and also builds your appreciation for their entire legacy.

Remembering John Candy on the third disc is an homage to the lovable, funny heart of "SCTV" himself. Who doesn't think fondly of the work John Candy provided in the realm of comedy? And "SCTV" was the bread and butter of his skills, as evidenced by the dozens of hilarious show clips which are featured, most of them from past and future episodes. Joining the SCTV personnel from the previous documentaries for this one are latecomer Martin Short and a bevy of the show's writers, including Paul Flaherty, Doug Steckler, and John McAndrew. This isn't a biographical story of the man's life (if you want that, go watch E!), but instead how the "Second City TV" group recalls his professional work and his personality, from how Levy and Flaherty first got involved working with Candy at a young age to the writing and performing skills he brought to the show. A good-natured, heartfelt tribute to a lost legend, never sentimentally sickening but more the result of fellows who knows his spirit remains beside them. Oh, Johnny, we hardly knew ye!

The Craft of SCTV focuses mainly on the stylists behind the show. We hear primarily from wardrobe designer Juul Haalmeyer, make-up designer Bev Schechtman, and hair/wig designer Judi Cooper Sealy. Just remember how many characters these characters had to inhabit, and you'll get a pretty solid idea of the extensive work taken in how these three guys provided each cast member the right look to go with the personality. The trio talk at detail about working with the performers around a rigid schedule, and we even get the chance to peek in Haalmeyer's costume collection to see all those classic SCTV threads. They're truly unsung heroes whose contributions are not only vital, they are also a big fabric to the series.

Finally, SCTV Reunion is taken from a 1999 US Comedy Arts Festival convention with host Conan O'Brien and the seven SCTV performers besides Candy and Moranis being reunited on one stage. O'Brien is one of the greater comedians I have ever seen work not only the late night talk show circuit, but also in terms of writing and interviewing, as judged recently from his work on the fourth season of The Simpsons and from this particular panel discussion. The stories and recollections fly as we see the cast members talking about their classic characters such as Guy Caballero, the inspirations that segued into "Polynesiantown," unexpected run-ins with the likes of Bob Hope, Danny Terrio, and Richard Harris, the strange depiction of Floyd the Barber Levy presented in "The Merv Griffith Show," and other such impersonations/sketch inspirations. Despite the fact that none of the clips that were cut to during the lecture are shown here, the banter between these several comic giants is priceless. Disc four also contains a trailer for the "Freaks and Geeks" DVD boxed set.

Both "Polynesiantown" and "Moral Majority" contain full-length commentaries by Eugene Levy and Joe Flaherty. The tracks are rather spotty, if still able to squeeze occasionally intriguing factual tidbits out, and they at least have an overall sense of elation to the proceedings. When the duo are not simply kicking back and checking out the various sketches, they provide interesting factoids about the more beloved characters, references to past episodes, the conditions of being in Edmonton, and much information about the various sketches. Joe Flaherty shames himself for not doing a good Don Knotts, but is commendable in every way for his honest admission that he once delved in cocaine. Eugene Levy, whose droll wit has been a key part of the commentaries for the Christopher Guest movies, seems to remember less and less about "SCTV" over the years, but still has interesting things to say. I am a fan, so I have to say that I liked these commentaries but still admit they have their troublesome faults.

The boxed set comes with a color booklet containing an introduction by producer Andrew Alexander, a tribute essay by Conan O'Brien, background on the show and the nine episodes by Don Waller, plus quotes from Fred Willard, Dan Aykroyd, Ben Stiller, and Dr. John praising their memories of the show. Stiller himself was an avid SCTV fan who taped all of the episodes on VHS the day they first aired!

And I saved this final, near-end part to talk about the technical aspects of the presentation. Of course, this show is presented in 1.33:1 full frame, but they are not anamorphic. 80s video recording takes its toll over the 20 plus years after the show, but things are still fairly watchable. Frontal sharpness was much more crystal than in many of the wider shots, and definition and detail could be slightly challenged in both aspects, but never grating and recurring. You can spot many of the various print flaws if you can, from vertical lines to compression to shimmering to edge enhancement and so on, but they are not truly apparent to say the least. Color detail is all it can be, a lot of times rich and varied, but in a rare instance suffering from flatness and a washed-out look. Black levels are on the money, even if the shadow detail is regrettably dense. I shouldn't expect a serious restoration, but at least the video transfer isn't so bad it obscures the on-screen action. An average grade would pass.

Same goes for the Dolby Digital 2.0 tracks. This is a mostly monaural track, with one small instance of stereo separation that occurs on the Siskel & Ebert spoof in the "Southside Fracas" episode. You'll probably notice it too. Anyways, expect a very aged soundtrack as well with all the various elements: clear dialogue with only a wee hint of shakiness (is it me, or did somebody tweak the line about the pope in the "Harry Filth" bit?), effects that sound good enough but have no punch to them, musical numbers that benefit from a polish to the sound recordings (I think many of them used pre-recorded tapes), and other such aural music cues that suffer minor clarity deficiencies such as the "hiss" and the "crack" that comes from a crowded aural spectrum (did we really need a laugh track?). Still, you make do with what you can get, and things look at least positive on the sound + vision scale.

Still, I am sore that the chapter selections are all limited to five unnamed stops for each 65 minute episode, and we also get no subtitles or closed captions. That's just laziness. The five various discs are housed in a bookish array of spindles containing color shots of the characters in rough costumed form, and it fits well into a big slipcase that fits well amongst the rows of DVDs.

Expect another cycle of "SCTV" to make its way onto video stores in October of this year. Until then, I really recommend this package to all who love their comedy classic, crazy and creative. They were the seven comedians and the vast array of personnel who made comedy history by stepping outside limitations and really aiming towards the funny bone. And if you're a fan, the $89.99 list price may be a bit insane for just five discs of material, but from all the explanation and justification I gave towards the total superiority of all nine episodes, as well as the fact that they cleared all the more important musical rights (why didn't the Chappelle's Show DVD release have more music, eh?) and provided superb bells and whistles will compel you to make sure your own home station carries "SCTV" and all its fine programming.

This concludes our broadcast day. Thank you and please tune in once again in October.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older