by Ethel Winant
Event Programming
Television . . . it hardly seems possible
that it is only in my adult life that this incredible medium became part of our
daily life. Some of us who attended the World's Fair in New York in 1939 had
seen demonstrations of Television, and I actually worked in Television during
the war at the Don Lee studio up on Mount Wilson, where they broadcast something
every two weeks in order to maintain their license. As students at the Pasadena
Playhouse we did little one-acts wearing bizarre makeup in the full knowledge of
the fact that there were probably only a dozen sets in all of Southern
California, and probably none of them could pick up the signal. Somehow, not one
of us felt that television would be important in our future.
Nor did we who were working in the
theater feel that anything important had happened when after the war we saw
television sets appear in bars. Even in the early fifties most of what we saw on
television was wrestling -- OK, I'm exaggerating, sporting events. Television
sets were expensive . . . . we hardly knew anyone who owned one, and those who
did seemed to spend most of their time talking to repair men about how to get a
picture.
But Dumont came along and the networks
faced up to the fact that they would have to deal with this new medium and not
stay with the safe and secure and lucrative world of radio, and all of a sudden
television was going full blast.
But that was in the fifties, and this is
only the nineties and television grew and grew until it dominated the
entertainment industry, and now it seems to be facing a whole new period of
splintering, changing, losing the easy domination of the audience once enjoyed
by the three networks.
What is happening? Where is the
audience? Why has this most incredible of mediums become passˇ, in large part
ignored, at least as far as entertainment is concerned? People still seem to
abandon other activities to watch major sporting events or something like the
Academy Awards, but except for these very special, highly promoted programs,
there seems to be no excitement about television, no anticipation of a special
event, no talk about the show "the morning after." Why?
Maybe because television has abandoned
the idea of events. One of the most exciting concepts for television was the
mini-series (a hateful term). I don't mean a two part movie-of-the-week now
given the pretentious title of miniseries, but the real novel for television.
The event that everyone watched and everyone talked about the next day.
It started with a special audience who
watched The Six Wives of Henry the Eighth and Elizabeth R. People talked about
the show, talked about the episodes, panicked when they missed an episode,
worried that there might not be a re-run. I guess it was Screen Gems that did
the first American Miniseries, although it was about the English, QB VIII.
Everyone was very excited about it and the networks began to buy novels and
adapt them so that you could play out a whole novel over several nights. Usually
they played in the movie nights, until Fred Silverman decided to schedule Roots
all at once in one week and changed miniseries presentation forever, well almost
forever. Remember Centennial, which played anyplace there was an open night so
that no one could ever find it?
I'm not going to do a lot of research on
this phenomenon. I'm not going to list all of the miniseries and their ratings.
All I am trying to say is that these mini-series, or novels for television or
whatever they were called, became events. People marked off their calendars to
watch Captains and Kings, Shogun or East Of Eden and, of course, Masterpiece
Theater never stopped doing their massive minis and everyone talked about them.
Everyone wanted to be a part of the experience of watching, or discussing it the
next day. People rushed through dinner. They made a point of being home, they
watched and they talked and they had a good time. And, even though their
popularity has waned, at least with the networks, when an exciting series like
Lonesome Dove played it happened again. That audience that seems to have
fractionalized or drifted away came right back and watched, and talked about it
and was sorry when it was over.
Why don't we care about television
events any more? Why don't we talk about them? Is it all financial . . . are the
books too expensive? All we talk about are ratings and salaries. The headlines
in the paper tell you about ratings, the gossip columns talk about costs,
license fees and salaries. It's very depressing to me that the folks at my gym
all got very excited about a show I worked on recently because it was number
four in the weekly ratings. Why should they know or care? They just "loved
the show" because it was a "hit". They didn't have to see it.
I think maybe we should re-write our
contracts. Maybe it should be a violation of our Guild Agreements to publish
ratings, license fees and salaries. Maybe we should stop thinking of who won the
hour, the minute, the second as the most important news of the day. First of
all, it's all in the interpretation. Network A won the week in terms of
"raw numbers" but Network C actually won because they had the highest
numbers in the important demographic group, but Network B dominated the
important hour leading into local news. So, playing the "numbers game"
may be fascinating for research people and vital for those scheduling the
networks, but since the pubic doesn't have to do either of these two things,
wouldn't it be more fun for them to get interested in the shows, in their
content rather than their numbers?
I think we need to start creating
excitement about our product and then maybe that lost audience would return. It
wasn't only miniseries that became major events on television. Every year there
were a couple of movies that everyone talked about, and even episodes of series
that everyone looked forward to seeing and wanted to experience together.
Rhoda's wedding, Edith Bunker's dealing with rape, the last episode of The
Fugitive, the first blacks on Gunsmoke, the President of the United States on
Laugh-In. We need to start putting excitement back into television. We have to
start being excited about it again.
We are so depressed, we are so negative,
and there is a reason. A lot of what we have been doing for the past twelve
years has been depressing. We have gone more and more to "reality"
shows, not just those shows designated as "reality shows," but the
dramatic shows are almost all based on "true stones," real events
taken from the headlines. What happened to making up stories? Isn't that why
most of us chose to go into this business? Had we desired to be biographers or
historians, we would have been quietly writing or teaching at some university.
No, we chose the world of make-believe, the world of "what if." We
could create a world, populate it with interesting characters, use our
imaginations, inspire other people, give young people hope and ambition and have
a really good time. Every day of our lives was an event because we did shows of
heightened reality. We dealt with stories of the heart, stories of the
imagination. We didn't try to imitate life. We created a larger than life world,
a world where anything could, and usually did happen. That's why people watched.
It took them out of themselves, took them away from the problems and worries and
detail of their lives. The shows excited and amazed them, freed them, made them
happy or made them sad, made them laugh or made them cry for those fantastic
imaginary people we created.
So let's try to look at television as
the new and exciting medium it once was. It still can be since it will be
delivered to its audience in many ways in the coming years. Let's think again in
terms of using our imaginations, creating magic and creating events.
Let's do ourselves a favor. Let's try to
convince the people in management that it's OK to have some fun, to make up
stories, to play some games. I'm not a gambler, but I would wager that most of
us didn't "just love math" when we were in school, even if some of us
managed to do pretty well in it. So, if we didn't love math, it doesn't seem
fair that we are spending our lives in the "numbers" game. Anyway, I
have always believed that if we are allowed to do the show that really excites
us, we'll really excite the audience and the numbers will work out just fine.
We know there are about two events in
the year when people make a point of watching television. Let's not try to
change everything all at once. This year let's aim for five events. After that,
anything can happen.
Ethel Winant has just finished work on the hour-long CBS Special The
Legend of The Beverly Hillbillies . . . She is in preproduction on a four-hour
miniseries for NBC and in development with Frances Ford Coppola on a
"live" Playhouse 90 Production.