Although Alf's creator argued at the time of the original broadcasts (and since) that his intention was to expose racist bigotry through the exaggerated utterances of Alf, many commentators contend that this intention backfired. The enormous popularity of the show signified that there was something about it that appealed to a significant proportion of the viewing public. Wherever the series has been shown-in Great Britain or in the United States or Germany (the last two in local adaptations)-the effects have  by  no means always been what the author intended. Alf's rhetoric was not always seen as the voice of the ignorant bigot, but often as the stifled cry of the authentic (white) working class. While the Garnett family, and Alf in particular, were clearly represented as disgraceful and abject characters, extreme even as caricatures, many critiques of the show suggest that part of its fascination for the audience was the "kernel of truth" buried in the lunatic waitings. Thus, the crucial difference between Alf's grotesque soliloquies and the viewers' beliefs was that Alf was simply too stupid to understand that racist sentiment must be concealed beneath a sheen of respectability: the persuasive and polished performance of Alessandra Mussolini, grand­ daughter of the dictator, in her Italian political career is more credible than Alf's degenerate ramblings, but contains much the same message .

     The inflammatory and controversial subject matter of the show and its U.S. counterpart, All in the Family, ensured that both programs became the focus of academic inquiry. Research findings were mixed, some suggesting that such shows had a neutral effect on viewers while others claimed that viewers identified heavily with the xenophobic ravings of Alf/Archie. It is likely that many British viewers, worried by the alleged "immigrant avalanche" constantly reported in the media during the 1960s, and fueled by Irish Protestant leader Enoch Powell's rabid jingoism, found acer­tain resonance in the racist bigotry espoused by Alf. Although Alf was challenged in his more ludicrous diatribes by his daughter Rita and son-in-law Mike, with the odd wry observation from his long-suffering wife, "Old Moo," Warren Mitchell's powerful performance as Alf relegated the rest to mere bit players, as deserving butts of his wild wit.

     Through Alf, a cascade of fear and prejudice was given unique prime-time exposure and articulated with such passion that during its transmission, 12 million viewers (then half the adult British population) tuned in to watch. It is highly unlikely that all these viewers were laughing at-rather  than  with-Alf,  that  they were all making wholly satirical readings of Alf's obscene racism and applauding Speight's clever exposition as they cackled at the 'jokes." Looking again  at the show from today's perspective, the virulent racism stands out as extraordinary, and its nature and extent have never been repeated on British television. Till Death Us Do Part may have been written as brave social commentary, but decades later, it looks seriously flawed and gives the lie to the notion that what the writer intends is always "correctly" interpreted and understood by her/his audience.

     There is little evidence to support the claim of program producers and writers that mixing humor with bigotry will automatically underline the stupidity of the latter through the clever device of the former. If bigots do not perceive such programs as satire, and much of the research conducted so far seems to indicate that a satirical reading is by no means universal, then they are unlikely to become less prejudiced as a result of watching these shows. At the end of the 1980s, an Alf Garnett exhibition was staged at London's Museum of the Moving Image, where visitors pressed buttons repre­ senting particular social problems and Alf appeared on video to opine on the selected subject. It is a strange idea and exemplifies the ease with which TV characters can make the transition from one medium to another, in this instance mutating from demon to sage in one easy movement. If it is a little too glib, from the smug security of a contemporary standpoint, to label Till Death Us Do Part as a straightforwardly racist text, it is nonetheless instructive to consider the limits of acceptability that prevail in any given decade and to continue the campaign for equality and respect while at the same time supporting the radical take.

     More than three decades since it first aired, repeats of Till Death Us Do Part continue to be broadcast. The program continues to be a subject for comment and criticism.