Everything You Love Or Hate About Ally Mcbeal

In almost every episode, Ally's inner feelings are cartoonishly telegraphed, much like Martin Tupper's vintage TV daydreams on Dream On. Ally wonders what it'd be like to have big breasts, so Kelley's F/X wizards blow her bust up into Vegas novelty-act proportions. Ally's heart is broken, so arrows shoot into her chest. She hears her biological clock ticking, and suddenly she's imagining a freaky infant cha-chaing to "Hooked on a Feeling."

Says Kelley of the gimmick: "All my series have really been about words — all those closing arguments on L.A. Law and The Practice — so a part of me just wanted to do something purely visual."

Like everything else on Ally, it makes you either giggle or gag.

A Brief Bathroom Break

The cast and crew are shooting a scene on the bar set, where the characters usually wind up for drinks at the end of every episode. In this segment, Fish has spotted Janet Reno sipping a cocktail and can't resist sidling up to the attorney general to cop a feel of her tantalizing wattle. It's a cute scene, with a killer look-alike (the real Reno declined Kelley's invitation for a cameo — go figure). But there is another, even more compelling set calling for attention on the soundstage. A few dozen footsteps away, empty and unlit for now, looms the heart and soul of Ally McBeal: the unisex bathroom.

One of the most controversial elements of the show, the coed toilets are where some of Ally's greatest dramas unfold. "It's like the kitchen in most people's houses at parties," offers Gil Bellows, who plays Billy, the now-married old flame who works with Ally — and whom she's still sort of crazy about. "It's the place where the characters get together. So you have these incredibly moving scenes taking place next to a urinal." Dyan Cannon also sees dramatic possibilities. "There's no place safe at that office. There's no privacy anywhere. You can get in a lot of trouble in that bathroom."

Still, some cast members admit the idea grosses them out. "I couldn't do it," says Courtney Thorne-Smith, who plays Billy's wife — and whom Ally sort-of-likes-but-also-sort-of-hates. "If it were real, I'd constantly be running across the street to the convenience store's bathroom."

Final Summations
(At least for this week)

Only 13 original episodes of Ally have aired to date, and judging by the ballooning ratings (so good they've chased Buffyto Tuesday and persuaded Fox to sign the series for a full second season) and its sweep at the Golden Globes (where it beat perennial faves Frasier, Friends, Mad About You, and the soon-to-depart Seinfeld), it's a pretty sure bet the Allyarguments will rage for some time. Just remember how many years the Michael-and-Elliot debate tore at the national psyche.

"It's inevitable," says thirtysomething cocreator Marshall Herskovitz, who hasn't actually seen Ally but speaks from deep experience. "Any time a show tries to be about real life, you're going to offend some people who feel that it doesn't resemble their lives enough and others who think it resembles their lives too much. But in an odd way, that's a compliment. It means the work is alive, that it's stirring up people."

Back at the coffee shop on Sunset, Flockhart offers a similar take. "I love that the show is controversial, that it's thought provoking," she says. "I love that people either love it or hate it. It's more interesting."

She takes another sip — and a tiny bubble of cappuccino foam finally makes an appearance on her upper lip.