You ever sit down to watch a show from the 1970s and realize it’s actually smarter than half the stuff on Netflix right now? That’s basically the vibe of Barney Miller season 5. By the time 1978 rolled around, the show had already lost its "big star" anchor in Abe Vigoda, but it hadn’t quite hit that final, hyper-philosophical groove of the later years. It was in this weird, beautiful middle ground.
Most people remember the coffee.
The terrible, sludge-like coffee Nick Yemana used to make. But season 5 is where things got heavy. It’s the year the show stopped being just a "cop sitcom" and started feeling like a document of a city that was kind of falling apart at the seams.
The Harris Incident and why it still hurts
If you want to talk about Barney Miller season 5, you have to start with "The Harris Incident." Honestly, it’s one of the most uncomfortable, raw half-hours of television from that entire decade. Noam Pitlik actually won an Emmy for directing it, and for good reason.
The plot is simple: Ron Harris, played with such suave precision by Ron Glass, is chasing a suspect down an alley. He’s in plainclothes. Two white uniformed officers see a Black man with a gun and—without a word—they open fire.
They miss.
But the fallout is what matters. The internal politics, the way the "blue wall" starts to go up, and Barney’s own struggle to play peacemaker. Hal Linden is incredible here. Barney wants to fix it. He wants to believe the system works. But Harris? Harris is done. He delivers this line about the "book" being written by "the man" that still feels like a gut punch today. It wasn't just "topical" for 1978; it feels like it was written yesterday.
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Saying goodbye to Jack Soo
We have to talk about the elephant in the squad room. Jack Soo.
Halfway through filming the fifth season, Jack Soo (who played Nick Yemana) was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. He’d been a staple of the show since the pilot. His deadpan delivery was the secret weapon of the 12th precinct. One minute he's cracking a joke about his gambling debts, and the next he's making a quiet point about his time in a Japanese internment camp during WWII.
His last episode was "The Open House," which aired in early 1979. He didn't make it to the end of the season.
The season finale, "Jack Soo: A Retrospective," isn't an episode of the show in the traditional sense. It’s the actors—not the characters—sitting around the set in their street clothes. They’re drinking coffee (probably better than what Yemana made) and sharing stories. When they raise their cups in that final toast? If you don't get a little misty-eyed, you're probably a robot. It’s a rare moment of genuine, unscripted mourning in television history.
The weird, gritty reality of the 12th Precinct
What most people get wrong about this show is thinking it’s a "police procedural." It’s not. It’s a workplace comedy about a group of guys who happen to be cops.
Season 5 leaned into the grime.
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The precinct always looked like it needed a fresh coat of paint. The phones wouldn't stop ringing. You had these incredible guest stars playing "perps" who weren't really criminals, just New Yorkers who had reached their breaking point.
- The Vandal: A guy who just wants to destroy things because he's bored.
- The Indian: A Native American man who "reclaims" the precinct because it's on ancestral land.
- The Spy: A guy convinced the CIA is following him (and in the 70s, he might have been right).
Dietrich, played by Steve Landesberg, really comes into his own this season too. He’s the intellectual who knows everything about everything. He’s the guy who can explain the physics of a lightbulb while processing a guy for grand theft auto. The dynamic between him and Wojo (Max Gail) is pure gold. Wojo is all heart and gut instinct; Dietrich is all brain and detached irony.
Why the realism worked
Real NYPD officers used to write into the show. They loved it. Why? Because it didn't show high-speed car chases or constant shootouts. It showed the paperwork. It showed the endless waiting. It showed the frustration of a budget that didn't cover basic supplies.
The show captured the specific "New York in the 70s" energy—that feeling of being stuck in a crumbling building while the world outside is getting weirder by the hour.
The technical side of the 12th Precinct
Behind the scenes, things were kind of a mess, but in a productive way. Danny Arnold, the creator, was a notorious perfectionist. He would rewrite scripts on the fly.
The cast would often be filming scenes for an episode that was supposed to air in three days. They’d be on set until 2:00 AM because Arnold decided a joke didn't land right during the table read. You can see that exhaustion on their faces sometimes, and weirdly, it works. It makes them look like actual detectives who have been on a double shift.
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They eventually stopped filming in front of a live audience.
By season 5, it was shot more like a movie. They’d do a scene, tweak the dialogue, and do it again. This allowed for that overlapping, naturalistic dialogue that became the show's trademark. It didn't sound like "setup-setup-punchline." It sounded like people talking.
Actionable insights for the classic TV fan
If you're planning a rewatch or checking out Barney Miller season 5 for the first time, here is how to get the most out of it:
- Watch "The Harris Incident" first. Even if you skip the rest of the season, this episode is mandatory viewing for anyone interested in how television handles social issues.
- Look at the background. The set design is a masterclass in "lived-in" environments. Notice the layers of posters on the walls and the clutter on the desks.
- Pay attention to the guest stars. This season features early appearances from people like Christopher Lloyd and Jeffrey Tambor. The "perps" often out-act the leads because they were given such meaty, eccentric roles.
- Compare it to modern sitcoms. Notice the lack of a "B-plot" sometimes. Often, the entire episode is just people talking in one room. It’s basically a filmed stage play, and it requires you to actually pay attention to the words.
Barney Miller didn't need a cliffhanger or a massive explosion to keep people coming back. It just needed a bunch of tired guys in a drafty room trying to do the right thing. In season 5, they did that better than almost anyone else on the air.
If you want to understand why this show still ranks in the top 50 of all time for most critics, just watch how they handled Jack Soo's passing. It wasn't a PR stunt. It was a family losing a member. That's the heart of the 12th precinct.
To dive deeper into the history of the show, seek out the 2011 Shout! Factory complete series DVD set, which contains the rare "Jack Soo" retrospective in its original broadcast quality, or look for the restored high-definition prints currently circulating on digital sub-channels like Antenna TV and MeTV.