Al Bundy Is President
And Marcy might’ve voted for him.
I have this clear memory from the summer of 1992: I’m listening to my local radio station and between “Baby Got Back” and “I’m Too Sexy,” someone randomly called and exclaimed, “Al Bundy for president!” This was not long after the Republican National Convention had spent so much time bashing Hillary Clinton you’d have thought she were the Democratic nominee instead of Bill.
That anonymous caller eventually got his wish in 2016 and 2024. Donald Trump is Al Bundy as commander in chief — even his “weaving” speeches sound like a classic Bundy rant. (Watch below.)
“I don’t know the law nor I do I really know how to pleasure a woman,” Al tells a judge in 1993’s “Un-Alful Entry. “I have no interest in either. But let me ask you one important question: How did we become a great country? By kicking the heinies of anybody who threatened our boarders. And that’s what I was doing! I was protecting my border! If a man comes into my house, he better be carrying a summons or a pizza! [points to a robber he punched] But this man wasn’t, so I called in the Marines [makes a fist with his right hand] and the 51st Airborne.”
Married … with Children, the very first Fox Network show, debuted in 1987 and reached its peak popularity by the early 1990s. Al Bundy (Ed O’Neil) was an ‘80s version of Archie Bunker but without an enabling Edith. Peg Bundy — the brilliant Katey Sagal — stands out from many sitcom wives in that she’s not just the “straight lady” to a wacky husband. Peg Bundy inspired Lois Griffin more than Marge Simpson.
Married … with Children’s original working title was Not The Cosbys — a dig at the Huxtables from The Cosby Show, who’d come to symbolize middle-class family harmony. The Bundys would reflect “real America” and Al Bundy the “forgotten man.” There’s a clear parallel with Trump replacing Barack Obama in the Oval Office.
Although Ronald Reagan presided over considerable white backlash to recent racial progress, Married … with Children never addresses race directly. Al is a misogynist and openly homophobic but he’s never overtly racist like Archie Bunker. (Michael George Moye, who created Married … with Children with the late Ron Leavitt, is Black.)
Al’s bigotry is primarily targeted to women and the French, who we sees as no different from women. His son Bud (David Faustino) is an incel in making. Married … with Children’s focus is the gender war. The pilot introduces the Bundys’ new neighbors, Steve and Marcy Rhoades (David Garrison and Amanda Bearse). They’re recently married and, unlike the Bundys, upwardly mobile. It’s clear they don’t plan on staying in the Bundys’ neighborhood for long.
The Rhoades are a somewhat incongruous mix of 1980s young urban professionals but also lingering 1970s cultural liberalism. They’re both successful bankers who have embraced the Gordon Gekko “greed is good” ethos. Steve drives a Mercedes, and they both share a contempt for the working class.
Nonetheless, modern audiences would easily read the Rhoades as liberal Democrats — overtly pro-corporate but with socially progressive views. This reflects the extent to which Democrats have become a party of college-educated, upper middle class people. The Rhoades’ sneering derision of the “low-brow” Bundys is also similar to how far-too-many liberals view the American working class, especially non-college educated whites.
The Rhoades most likely voted for Reagan but they also hold socially liberal positions, particularly related to gender, which puts them in direct conflict with Al and even stay-at-home mom Peg. Steve and Marcy don’t like guns, for instance, and they name their guard dog after feminist Bella Abzug.
Over the years, Al and feminist Marcy would become arch enemies, but their antipathy is rooted simultaneously in gender and class. The show doesn’t spend much time on arguments over trickle down economic policies. Reagan’s policies fueled a racial wealth gap, but you wouldn’t have noticed while watching The Cosby Show. Ironically, Michael Moye could write lines for Bundy bemoaning his fate that no Black sitcom dad would ever dare say.
“What became of my life?” Al laments. “I used to win. Sports, fights ... Anything I’d put my mind to, I’d win. You know what becomes of winners? … They become shoe salesmen. They lose to their kids and their wives …”
Al isn’t thriving in the 1980s like Steve and Marcy, yet he doesn’t blame Reagan or Republicans in general for his current misery but instead “women and pacifists.” He longs for the simpler times of the 1950s, when white men ruled, but again, the racial reality is downplayed and Al argues for more generic male dominance. This “working man” appeal resonated across racial lines in the last election — unfortunately in Trump’s favor.
When they first meet, Al convinces Steve to admit that he likes sports, much to Marcy’s chagrin, as she insists that sports “glorifies violence and are psychologically damaging.” Al and Steve have a tenuous friendship where Steve feels like he should object to Al’s chauvinism, even though it’s clear he agrees with him deep down. (This dynamic would continue with Marcy’s second husband Jefferson, played by Ted McGinley.) Many early episodes present Al offering Steve the MRA version of the “red pill.”
Marcy’s political allegiance is plainly stated in an October 1992 episode, shortly before the presidential election. When a desperate Bud and Kelly (Christina Applegate) beg Marcy for help, she responds coldly, “I can’t. I’m a Republican.”
Yet, for the remainder of the run, she is written a strawman Hillary. She runs the group FANG (Feminists Against Neanderthal Guys) in opposition to Al’s proto-MRA group NO MA’AM. She gleefully advocates for the cancellation of Al’s favorite TV show, Psycho Dad. She tries to stop her bank from dedicating a high school scoreboard in Al’s honor.
Trump declared at a 2016 GOP debate that he didn’t have time to be politically correct. Now, young men — the Steves and Jeffersons of today — are delighted that Trump has freed them from Marcy’s iron fist.
The newsletter
observed that “white women over 30 have an uncanny ability to make any movement instantly uncool.” Perhaps Marcy best demonstrates that argument, as she became the punching bag for Al’s fury over an increasingly “feminized” society.If she were a real person, Marcy might have become one of those lifelong Republicans turned Never Trumper. It’s hard to imagine Marcy ever supporting Donald Trump, but you could say the same about Nikki Haley or New Hampshire Gov. Kelly Ayotte. They surrendered their dignity for power and submitted themselves to someone Marcy would describe as “compost, phlegm, a true pork product.” The tragic reality is that the MAGA coalition includes way too many Marcys. It’s all about those tax cuts.
Almost 40 years ago, the joke was that Al was a dinosaur who was too dumb to accept his own extinction, but now the joke is on us. Al Bundy is president.
Great analysis. I’m from a working class family (dad was an appliance salesman and mom became a teacher when we were adults). In spite of the cast, which was great all the way around, I hated this show. In 1987, I was 25 and recently married. It reminded me too much of the dads in my life— my dad, my father in law in particular- men who felt they were owed servitude simply because “man”.
But you’re right. This is the man of today. Might account for all my anger.
I never really watched the show when it was on (I may have caught a bit of it here and there) but, last week, I saw one of our more obscure channels here in the UK has begun showing it in one-hour blocks every night. I thought, 'Oh, cool a bit of American nostalgic TV!' and tried watching an episode...ugh. I suppose it may have played well back then but to a bona fide lefty like me, it's aged as well as cottage cheese in the back of the 'fridge since last Easter. I gave it about 15 minutes before deciding there HAD to be something better on.
I'm glad Ed O'Neil moved on from being a young-ish ass to being a curmudgeon who is still open to change in "Modern Family."