The Facts of Life debuted
on NBC in August of 1979, a spin-off from the network’s popular Diff’rent Strokes. It would go on to
last nine seasons and log over 200 episodes, teaching invaluable lessons to in
particular burgeoning teen girls, and predating by a few years the rise in
popularity of the sort of young femme fiction first peddled by author Judy
Blume.

The show was set, of course, around de facto den mother Edna
Garrett (Charlotte Rae, who would score an Emmy nomination for her work this
year), who served as the mentor and steadying influence on a quartet of very
different young girls. The series’ third season finds Tootie (Kim Fields)
getting drunk for the first time, as well as developing a crush on her favorite
singer (a guesting Jermaine Jackson — apparently Michael was overbooked). After
getting mugged on the way home from a party, Natalie (Mindy Cohn) develops a
fear of going outside. Spunky Jo (Nancy McKeon) and Mrs. Garrett, meanwhile, are
graced with parallel romantic arcs; the latter falls out of love with her fiancé
Eddie (Clark Brandon) and in love with the guy who’s playing her husband in a
simulated marriage that serves as a class project, while “Mrs. G” rekindles an
old fling. Other highlights of this season include the reappearance of cousin Geri
(Geri Jewell). In perhaps the most awkward development, meanwhile, preppy Blair
(Lisa Whelchel) learns in the episode “Legacy” that her grandfather is a member
of the Klu Klux Klan.

While other series of the era — including, most notably,
Norman Lear’s All in the Family and Archie Bunker’s Place — successfully
integrated social commentary into their fabric in a heartening fashion (can
anyone fathom a half-hour sitcom of today
tackling a similar topic?), The Facts of
Life never quite pulled this off quite as capably. The show was at its best
filtering more realistic adolescent problems (gossip, scholastic endeavor, romantic
competition, even alcohol abuse) through a feminine lens, or indulging spats
between the tomboyish Jo and the snooty, boy-crazy Blair. The split herein
favors that focus, but there are a few clunkers, like “Read No Evil,” “The Runaway”
and the aforementioned “Legacy.”

Grouping all two dozen episodes of the third season across
three discs, this collection comes in two plastic, slimline cases, which are in
turn housed in a cardboard slipcase halfheartedly mocked up as a miniature composition
notebook. All episodes are presented in 1.33:1 full screen, with an English
language stereo track. While wholly lacking in the supplemental extras
department (that would mean none), the series still for the most part works as
an adolescent primer of sorts, albeit a somewhat dated and intrinsically optimistic
one. C+ (Show) C+ (Disc)