Northern Exposure Season Two (1991)
Written by Robin Green, Henry Bromell, Andrew Schneider, Diane Frolov, Ellen Herman, and David Assael
Directed by Stuart Margolin, Sandy Smolan, Nick Marck, Steve Robman, Rob Thompson, Bill D’Elia, and David Carson
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a deftly handled realignment on a show as I have with Season Two of Northern Exposure. While Season One wasn’t terrible, it was pretty one-note until the end. For the most part, the show was a fish-out-of-water story about Joel Fleishman (Rob Morrow), an NYC doctor transplanted to the remote environs of Alaska. There’s only so much you can do with that premise, and by season two, the showrunners understood this and pivoted away from making every episode center on that concept. What we get instead is a wonderfully written & performed ensemble piece that is clearly influenced by the flights of fancy found in shows like Moonlighting.
While Northern Exposure is being influenced by the equally but differently quirky Twin Peaks, it finds the beginnings of voice here. The second season’s first episode is centered around Joel’s girlfriend breaking up with him via letter. That also severs the only significant connection Joel has to New York. Of course, his parents are there, but they have not been mentioned half as much as his girlfriend. With her gone, Joel can settle into life in Cicely, Alaska, and progress can begin on the “will they, won’t they” between him and Maggie (Janine Turner). How the show handles her boyfriend, Rick, is another nod to how the series is actively telling the audience that it’s trying to overcome the genre’s tropes.
Like Moonlighting, this is a show where even the characters know they exist on television. It’s not mentioned much, but the moments the writers choose to bring it up always heighten the comedy. It would be easy for an element like this to feel lazy, but it never does. Near the end of this season, Maurice is in a duel with a visiting Russian, and the scene where the fight is meant to occur suddenly goes off the rails in the best way. Joel starts talking about how they aren’t going to kill off Maurice as he’s one of the main characters on the show, and having him kill the Russian doesn’t match the tone. The other characters start coming up with ideas to close out the scene where no one gets hurt. Marilyn, Joel’s receptionist, says they should go onto the next scene, that it’s a really good one, and they do. The conflict was resolved in a very unexpected manner.
The bickering between Joel & Maggie goes down much smoother than in the first season. Initially, it felt very contrived, like the rest of the show, and followed very sitcom-y tropes. With some more creative freedom, the banter has more genuine sparks. Before, they were something holding things back, and now, with Joel being single, they are able to admit there’s something more between them while running from it vociferously. Joel is far more likable because every episode isn’t focused on him alone, with a random character chosen for the B plot. I suspect Morrow had to compete with John Corbett as Chris much more in this season. The writing gives Chris more to do, and it’s hard to argue that he’s not the more interesting of the two.
What I loved most was the cartoonishness of this world. In Episode Six, a Russian author visits, and the town immediately becomes obsessed with the culture. Holling’s bar is decorated with Soviet posters, and the women wear traditional outfits. Maurice and the Russian engage in a chess match (which leads to their duel), and the town has an oversized magnetic chess board so the audience can keep up with the moves. Why Cicely would have one of these beyond this annual visit remains a mystery, but I loved that sort of strangeness that goes unremarked upon. I also appreciate the fact that the show even realizes how ridiculous Holling & Shelly’s relationship is with the massive age gap and starts poking fun at it.
You can see the seeds of contemporary shows being planted here as well. Native Ed (Darren E. Burrows) starts wanting to know more about his parents as he was orphaned as a baby. Help comes in the form of One Who Waits (Floyd Red Crow Westerman), a 250-year-old spirit who doesn’t do much to reveal Ed’s parents but comedically guides him through gaining perspective about life. It reminded me a lot of Bear and William Knifeman from Reservation Dogs. The series’ creators have acknowledged the influence of Northern Exposure, one of the few shows during their youth that regularly featured Indigenous characters.
Within that episode about the visiting Russian, Ed has a B plot where he convinces Chris to write love letters from him Cyrano de Bergerac style. Ed has fallen in love with a local preacher’s daughter but can’t sum up the courage to speak directly to her. The letters work, and Ed loses his virginity, deciding he wants to marry this girl right away. I love how Chris handles the situation, refraining from being judgemental towards his friend. Even when the ruse is discovered, Chris handles the girl and Ed with tenderness and care. She likes how the words make her feel, so he composes a reading list of poetry she might enjoy. With Ed, Chris tells him that the pain he feels now from a love he wanted so badly will heal in time, and it will become something that helps him understand himself and the world better.
Northern Exposure’s direction in its second season is a sign of even better things to come. This is the period when it would win its awards, and I can see why. It’s a brilliant show that knows how to balance its unique setting with a meta-commentary on television that was brand-new at the time. We’ll stick with it, so look for my review of season three, which will come down the pipeline in the near future.

