J.J. Abrams recently announced the cast of his upcoming sci-fi pilot, Fringe. To most fans, I suppose the big news is that Mr. “I Discovered Keri Russell and Jennifer Garner” has chosen the beautiful-but-unknown-in-the-States actress Anna Torv to play the lead.

But the casting bit that caught my eye was the news that one of my most beloved ’80s TV stars, Blair Brown, will play “the brilliant Nina Cord, a 16-year veteran at Prometheus Corp., a cutting-edge research facility.”

Cutting-edge, indeed. The Divine Ms. B was, of course, the star of The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, a laugh-track-less dramedy that ran, starting in 1987, for two years on NBC before being picked up for another three seasons on then-nascent Lifetime. A year before Murphy Brown began its epic run redefining what it was to be a complicated woman in the 1980s, Blair Brown’s Molly Dodd was a quick-witted, complex, vaguely employed, literate libertine who captured the essence of New York womanhood at the time. She was a charmingly neurotic cross between Mary Richards and Annie Hall. And along with Woody Allen’s 1989 Crimes and Misdemeanors, 1988’s Crossing Delancey and the following year’s When Harry Met Sally, it informed my opinion of New York as a cultural, multiethnic, funny, intelligent place that I someday wanted to live.

Even now, hearing the familiar strains of the theme song — with its smooth jazz tones matching images of Central Park carriages, busy street corners and yellow cabs — brings me back to my parents’ wood-paneled living room in Ohio, waiting for the show to start.

Calling the show “quirky” is like calling Lost “a little confusing.” Divorced, thirtysomething Molly had a crazy family, a zany best friend, a wacky/wise elevator operator, a musician ex-husband and a pile of relationship issues. She didn’t have a steady job. She had a romance with a — gasp! — black guy. She often sang (standards, and beautifully). She talked — a lot. She was cool and warm, and smart and sexy as hell. In one memorable arc, her female therapist had a crush on her. (That and the minor lesbian plot on Heartbeat that same year left my younger self with a lot to ponder.)

If Molly Dodd was a feminist, she was one in her own way — more in line with fast-talking, wise-cracking Nora Charles than with career-centric ’80s characters such as Designing Women’s Julia Sugarbaker, Baby Boom’s J.C. Wiatt, Working Girl’s Tess McGill and Thirtysomething’s Hope Steadman (not that there’s anything wrong with that). In its depiction of not-quite-sanity and über-urbanity, it helped established the wry bohemian as part of the culture, a perfect antidote to 1987’s other zeitgeist-tapping portrayal of (certifiable) womanhood, that of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Later series, including New York– and female-centric Sex and the City, offbeat Ally McBeal and witty Gilmore Girls certainly owe the show a debt of gratitude. (And yet Dodd is somehow not on DVD!)

Despite all my ramblings about idiosyncratic Molly Dodd, her praise-worthy portrayer, Blair Brown, now in her 60s, is an equally fascinating subject. Brown, whose medium was primarily theater prior to her acclaimed work on Dodd (in addition to a memorable turn as William Hurt’s wife in 1980’s truly disturbing Altered States), has since returned to the stage, winning a Tony in 2000 for Copenhagen and even directing (the Dodd-esque A Feminine Ending had a brief run off-Broadway this fall). She’s quite a prolific narrator, as well, showcasing her melodious voice on many recent audiobooks and documentaries.

But if the buzz on Fringe is any indication, Brown promises to exhibit her smart, flinty side on television once again. Between her and Cherry Jones as Madam President on 24 (when will you let us see her, Fox?!), I’m beginning to think casting agents check this blog for ideas. Jill Bennett as Sarah Connor’s ex, you’re next.