They are not certainly the first sitcoms to tackle this subject. For example, Maude, one of Norman Lear's many groundbreaking comedies from the Seventies, took it on a long time ago. In The Tax Audit, an episode that was first telecast on February 12, 1974, the always outspoken title character (played by Bea Arthur, above left) recognizes the IRS agent who has come to the Findlay home to conduct an audit of her husband Walter’s tax return as the man who had attempted to force himself on her one weekend in Boston when she was a teenager. As outspoken as the “uncompromising” and “anything but tranquilizing” Maude was known to be (as noted in the show’s theme song), she had to take time to work up the nerve to tell Walter (Bill Macy, above right) what had happened and to then confront the man who had traumatized her so long ago.
Sadly, the episode of this then-timely show could have been written right now. But it surely would not be presented in the same way – with the studio audience repeatedly bursting into laughter as Maude tells the story of the attack. That's right: As the character attempts to surface and process an assault from her distant past the audience laughs at her! (They certainly weren't laughing with her.)
Of course, it may be possibile that the studio audience didn’t laugh, but that would mean executive producer Norman Lear and his team – and, perhaps, executives from CBS -- opted to sweeten the laugh track at key moments. In fairness, there were many (dare I call them) clever jokes woven into the dialogue. Regardless, Bea Arthur is so convincing in conveying Maude's rising fears amid the merriment that it is genuinely unsettling when viewed today.
At first Maude can’t figure out who the IRS agent is or why he makes her so nervous. When she says to her daughter Carol that he might have something to do with an unpleasant experience, she replies, “Maybe it’s one of your ex-husbands.” Then she simply leaves (as the audience roars) without wondering why her mother is so troubled.
The audience laughs again when Maude finally remembers who the IRS agent is and what he did to her. “Walter, that self-righteous servant of our federal government tried to rape me!” she cries in the privacy of their kitchen.
“When?” Walter asks. “The only time I turned my back was to hang up his coat!” (more laughs)
“Not now, Walter! Thirty-one years ago!” Maude continues. “That monster is responsible for the most terrifying night of my life! I’m shivering. It was ghastly. I don’t think I can handle this. Tell me what to do!”
“Let bygones be bygones,” Walter callously replies, as the audience bursts out laughing once again.
Maude explains that he attempted to force himself on her in a car. She had tried to scream for help but the windows were up and the radio was blasting. It was only when her shoe smashed through the windshield that he stopped and she was able to run away. The nightmare didn’t end there; when she finally made it home at 2 a.m. her father was waiting.
“He took one look at my torn sweater and broken bra strap and he said terrible things,” she recalled. “He called me terrible names. Tramp. Fast. Common. Those were the nice ones.” (more laughter)
Walter remains puzzled. At least she wasn’t raped, he implies. Now Maude is livid. “That makes it alright?” she asks. “Because he didn’t finish what he started out to do? That wipes the slate clean?”
The laughter was constant as the conversation continued. “It’s part of the dating game,” Walter declares. “It happens all the time. A guy takes a girl out in the car and either he gets lucky or he gets his face slapped.”
He’s clearly more concerned about his taxes than his wife’s trauma, telling her that she is “making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“A woman’s feelings are her most precious possession!” Maude replies. “They should be treated with dignity and respect! But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You’re a man!”
“What a lousy thing to say,” Walter responds. (more laughs)