RIP OLTL
I was all set to write about the National Association of Broadcasters convention, when something unexpected happened that demanded my attention. After nearly 43 years, ABC cancelled their daytime drama “One Life to Live”. It was the first soap that addressed cultural diversity and serious real-world issues including drug addiction, mental disorders and gang rape. But it was the escapism factor and the respite it provided that meant so much to me.
While I haven’t seen any daytime soap in fifteen years, there was a time in my life when lunch and OLTL went hand in hand. I was introduced to life in Llandview as a freshman in college. (I just love the touch of that second “L” in the fictional suburb’s name.) By sophomore year, my friends and I shunned any class held at 1:00 PM in order to spend that hour together. I remember one afternoon when the entire quad erupted with students screaming “Get the gun! Get the gun!” I don’t recall what gun or who we hoped would get it, but that uniting cry still echos fresh in my memory. This bonding ritual continued when I secured a job at a game show company. The television was always on in our break room and checking in on Max and Blair over a salad from California Chicken Cafe was an almost daily routine. It was practically the only time I was able to spend with the women in other departments and it was very precious to all of us. These days, people rarely have a breather during work hours, much less 60 minutes to indulge in a shared non-work experience. It’s understandable, but still a shame.
What I didn’t appreciate until I began training as a stage manager was how immensely difficult it is to produce a soap opera. Through my Directors Guild network, I was able to spend time on the sets of “Days of Our Lives,” “All My Children” and “The Bold and The Beautiful”. I was positively stunned by the amount of work accomplished and the high level of professionalism exhibited on these stages. Imagine creating over 40 minutes of drama five days a week, fifty weeks a year. That’s a lot of scenes to block, costumes to buy and lines to learn. Some actors left themselves hint cards and key lines hidden beneath living room sofa cushions, under night club drink coasters and behind bedroom mirrors. That’s not in any way a knock against the talent, some of whom portrayed their characters for decades. It’s merely one small way people figured out how to get a massive job done and please the audience.
The days of prep needed to get a weeks worth of shows ready to tape rivaled the action in the studio. The directing team of OLTL has won 5 daytime Emmy awards, with Gary Donatelli having directed 400 episodes since 1990. IMDB lists over thirty credited writers who have worked on that team in the last decade. While some have only contributed to a handful of episodes, several have put their stamp on well over 100. In 1998, All Business magazine conducted an interview with the post-production coordinator for OLTL, Margo Husin Call. One of her jobs was to keep track of all past storylines so that new members of the writing team wouldn’t create a plot that contradicted the established backstory of Llandview and its residents. Given everything these characters have been through — including trips to heaven, outer space and in one case their own personal past — I can only imagine how challenging that would be. But what delicious fun to be able to recount with accuracy all of Victoria Lord’s husbands.
So it is with great respect that I bow my head for a moment of silence for “One Life to Live” and the hundreds of people associated with her long history. No matter what sort of news broadcast, chat show or cooking program ends up filling the time slot, it can never replicate that feeling of sitting down with an old friend.
“The Soup”: Valued Time Management Tool
In order to become an expert in any field, it’s important to study all of the elements, not just those that appeal to you. For me, this is as true of television as it is of the pros and cons of the latest arthritis medication and the environmental impact of fish farming. However, even I’d prefer not to take time away from all other activities in order to watch 24×7. And while I would never call a show “bad” out of respect for the medium and my fellow audience members, I freely admit there are many programs not to my taste. As you can tell from reading this blog, my preference is for scripted dramas and the occasional comedy. I haven’t watched an interview show since Carson went off the air. Try as I might, I still find most reality television creepy. (Yes, yes, I must try “The Amazing Race.”) And since no one in my household is under 12, I have no idea what’s happening in children’s programming.
I was, therefore, quite grateful when in 2005 “The Soup” came into my life. Like the Franklin Planner and the POSEC method, “The Soup” is a powerful time management tool, only it’s made specifically for television lovers. For those unfamiliar with this E! Channel staple, “The Soup” is a combination of clips, commentary and improv covering some of the most beloved television in pop culture circles. The show is hosted by stand-up comedian, actor, writer, and producer Joel McHale (now more famous for his starring role in “Community”). There are regular features, with new ones being added all the time. Examples include:
- Chat Stew, which focuses on clips from talk shows such as “The View” and “The Tyra Show”.
- Reality Show Clip Time!, which spotlights clips from reality shows including the trendy “Survivor”, “The Bachelor” and “Jersey Shore”.
- What the Kids Are Watching, which covers developments in children’s shows and commercials aimed at children.
Unlike me, McHale is quite clear when he thinks a show is bad, stupid or (capturing his attitude) as poorly put together as Heidi Montag. (I thank “The Soup” for my ability to make that cultural reference.) Therefore, when using “The Soup” as a time management tool, I focus on the raw material. Think of it like the off-label use of a drug. Even some of Soup’s recurring “targets”— including talk show host Wendy Williams and “The Hills” regular Stephanie Pratt — have showed their support for the format by appearing as guests. I don’t deny laughing at the jokes, but I also appreciate that there are viewers who look forward to “Cheaters” the way I count the days until the next “Justified.” I truly believe in diversity of programming. There are hundreds of stations out there, and they can’t all be playing reruns of “Two and a Half Men”, especially now. For me as a television fan, it is helpful to know that “Shatner’s Raw Nerve”, “Toddlers and Tiaras” and “Yo Gabba Gabba” exist and be able to get an idea of what they’re about without having to actually sit all the way through them. “The Soup” gives me that overview in as little as 30 minutes a week.
I confess that, like many management models, sometimes “The Soup” has failed me. The biggest impact on my free time occurred in 2007 when I became overly curious as to how a network could develop an entire series around a woman who, in McHale’s words, was famous for ‘having a big a** and a sex tape.” My inquisitive nature led me to watch an entire episode of this new entry. The next thing I knew I was “Keeping Up with the Kardashians”. Now I approach my weekly date with “The Soup” with a renewed sense of purpose: to (as they say) let McHale watch it all for me.
The Many Benefits of Film Tax Incentives
In my last post on the cost of dramatic television, I referenced the attractive tax incentives used by Canada to lure many television productions north of our border. This arrangement not only brings much needed capital into Vancouver and Toronto, it also helps employ many Canadians in front of and behind the camera. Somehow, we have failed to create an equally successful federal program here in the USA. And it doesn’t take the mind of Lawrence O’Donnell to surmise that our current political and economic climate doesn’t make it likely we will be moving in that direction anytime soon. It will continue to fall to the states and even to individuals to lead the way.
Despite Hollywood being located in California, that state only offers between 20%-25% back on films shot primarily within her boundaries (only for films based outside of California). By comparison, Michigan currently offers up to a 42% tax credit as well as low-interest loans for productions with a high enough budget. Ann Arbor recently got to play the title role in the film “Cedar Rapids” because the Iowa film production tax credit couldn’t touch this. Michigan’s Governor Jennifer Granholm confirms what many entertainment professionals know: it isn’t just the production companies that benefit. “That (money) … is people who are staying in hotels or renting houses, eating meals at local restaurants or who are sending their clothes to the dry cleaners.” One of the best illustrations of this phenomenon took place in California’s Gold Country in the 1980s. The crew was given $2 bills to spend and that local vendors could see exactly how many of them had profited from the shoot. And let’s not dismiss the possibility of attracting tourism when our area is presented in the right spotlight. Those “Sex and the City” Hotspots Tours practically sold themselves.
Personally, I cringe when I see Pasadena filling in for San Francisco or (worse!) a sound stage pretending to be Manhattan. I guess New York doesn’t like it either, because they now offer a 30% tax credit and get to stand in for Chicago on “The Good Wife.” While not going as far as NYC, what they’re doing in San Francisco is definitely a step in the right direction. According to Susannah Greason Robbins, Executive Director of the San Francisco Film Commission, all of the fees that are paid to the City of San Francisco — including police, fire, the port, and the department of water and power — are eligible for a tax refund up to $600,000 as long as 65% of filming takes place there. Additionally, “Scene in San Francisco” lists vendors who are offering discounts directly to crew members and production company representatives working in the area. These include the obvious hotels, restaurants and dry cleaners, but also optical care, spas, moving and storage companies and other services.
In part as a result of these new policies, film production is on an upswing in the Bay Area. Recently, Steven Soderbergh’s “Contagion” was on location in downtown, Mission Bay and around Candlestick Park. The pilot of “Alcatraz” was shot partially on Nob Hill. An episode of the Style Network’s “Clean House” spent a week in town. And (rejoice, Clive Owen fans), HBO’s “Hemingway & Gellhorn” will be there through May. In all, filming was up 54% percent in January compared with the same time last year, with features alone bringing in an estimated $2 million to city coffers according to the “San Francisco Chronicle”.
Admittedly, not everyone is in favor of these programs. An analysis completed by the non-partisan Michigan Senate Fiscal Agency last year was somewhat discouraging. Rather than generating a rallying cry to keep production here in America, their report concluded that while many of the benefits of the tax breaks, discounts and loans are seen on a private level, the cost of the incentives is to the public. But as I hope I’ve now proven, the public can also profit from a production coming to town if they are brought into the conversation. It is, therefore, imperative for those in the entertainment community to keep educating the public about the rewards of supporting local film and television production. Let’s do what we can to keep these jobs and the added revenue right here.
The High Cost of Drama
I was thrilled to read NewTeeVee’s Janko Roettgers’ article explaining how viewing habits contributed to the cancelation of “Caprica” on SyFy. The piece includes extensive quotes from SyFy Digital’s GM and Senior VP Craig Engler explaining how online viewing reduced his advertising revenue by nearly 90%. (For more details, read the full article at http://is.gd/iZ1OAB.) It ends with the hope that someday television series could survive even if a majority of the audience chose to use Hulu, iTunes and similar services. One very important fact that isn’t mentioned is why the advertising income is crucial to the survival of quality television: A standard episode of your favorite drama takes over a week to make and likely costs upwards of $2 million.
I confirmed my estimate through a connection with the producer of another science fiction favorite, “Supernatural”. This series currently costs about $2.5 million per episode, which includes the tax break they receive by shooting primarily in Canada instead of the US. To those of you who think this number is the result of their special effects budget, I remind you that demons and ghouls are not the only elements requiring a little television magic. A typical chase scene calls for cars, stunt drivers, permits and police protection. A shoot out entails prop guns, choreography, possible street closures, police and neighborhood notification to avoid even more police. And many of today’s most popular shows have large casts who all get into character with the help of appropriate sets, wardrobe and props. Magic indeed.
Yes, budget measures can be and are taken. One of my favorite, if slightly exaggerated, examples was shared in a workshop I attended on budgeting and scheduling. Unit Production Manger John Slosser (“Quantum Leap,” “Remington Steele,” and the award-winning pilot of “Hill Street Blues”) described a scene calling for a dog to drown in a lake. A feature film would likely employ a trained poodle. If the scene were sufficiently intricate, they might even spring for an animatronic model to ensure precision. In television, he said, you are more likely to have enough money to dye a mop-head black and toss it quickly into some water while a production assistant barks dolefully off-screen. A clever crew finds ways to make it work.
Cuts are now regularly made to audio budgets, with superior quality booms being replaced with small radio mics hidden in the actors’ clothing. This allows a scene to be shot from several angles simultaneously without the danger of getting an unwanted microphone in frame. While this hardly takes advantage of the sound systems in today’s home theaters, average viewers can’t perceive the difference and the elimination of several camera set-ups saves time and money.
Sometimes a show is lucky enough to land a white knight who defends their production values to the death. You’ve no doubt noticed the increase in product placements. Without Subway, we might never have seen Chuck Bartowski achieve full spyhood, not to mention all the Jeffster music videos that would have been lost to future generations. But for the most part, it is still the conventional commercial that pays the bills, including Zachary Levi’s salary.
I’m not slamming Hulu or any of the internet-based services. They serve a wonderful purpose. But I don’t want everyday viewers to get lost in all the jargon about “business models” and “revenue streams.” The bottom line in every sense is that all viewers have to pay their fare share. If inexpensive downloads are treated as a replacement for the traditional pipeline, we will see more terrific programs fade from the air. Many shows with enthusiastic followers are already “on the bubble” for fall, waiting to see if networks can ensure there will be enough dollars to support a season. Not every expensive item can be offset with cheap filler. We already tried that. It was called The Writers’ Strike and it was very sad.
Time to Ground Pilot Season
There is a strong case to be made for keeping the traditional television pipeline in place, at least for a while longer. (I will be making that case soon). However, the traditional pilot season seems to have outlived it’s usefulness. Once, it was the ideal system for attracting audience attention to new wares, the way an Auto Row draws new buyers to a single location in order to consider a range of possibilities. Now pilot season more often adds to the premature demise of programs that might have thrived if they hadn’t been suffocated in the crowd. Given the lengthy and often expensive process of getting a pilot made, it seems short-sighted not to give new consideration to the manner in which they are introduced to prospective viewers.
The destructiveness of the traditional pilot season model was more evident than ever in 2010. Granted, at first glance there wasn’t an obvious break-out hit like Glee or Modern Family. But several series were removed from the air so quickly, it was hard to tell what potential they had. A perfect example is Lone Star, a heavily promoted, enthusiastically reviewed drama on FOX. It had a complex premise about a conman leading two lives. It was obvious from the log line alone that it was going to take several weeks to introduce the key players and lay appropriate groundwork. Instead, FOX pulled the show after two outings. What a waste after taking the various leaps of faith required to get Lone Star from a dog-eared script in a pile, to a funded pilot and finally to a highlight on their fall schedule. It was not that the rating took a nosedive. That would have made FOX’s move more understandable. Rather, not many viewers had checked it out at all. Would they have once the program had become more than an amorphous shape? Would they have once fans of cast members Jon Voight, Andie MacDowell and others had found it? Would they have once word of mouth had had a chance to build? And would they have if this layered and unconventional show has been launched away from 20 other options?
As an alternative to emphasizing the fall season, the tactic employed by many basic cable stations has several advantages. Series’ launches are sprinkled throughout the year away from the September/October hoopla. Each series is divided into two half seasons with several months in between. From a production standpoint, this prevents total burnout, which results in far fewer “filler” stories and more consistent production value. From a programming standpoint, each successful series can be strategically paired with a promising newcomer likely to please the same audience. And from a consumer standpoint, viewers can focus their attention on a few fresh faces and a handful of favorites rather than drowning in choice.
While not exactly comparing apples and oranges, I am certainly comparing apples and apple sauce. I understand that networks like USA and TNT have fewer hours to fill with original programming. I also acknowledge that this cyclical approach works better with programs that are essentially episodic like White Collar and The Closer. There is some movement in a new direction; for example ABC is launching Off the Map, Mr. Sunshine, Body of Proof and Happy Endings over a four month period. Whether this method is too defused remains to be seen. Generally the networks could do more to remove the glare and noise from pilot season. Remember, Glee made its debut in untraditional May.
Hear, Here
“Skins” (based on a BAFTA-winning British series extremely popular with the 16-24 year old demographic) is experiencing a meteoric descent on MTV. The show lost more than half of their viewers between weeks one and two. Perhaps they just went to the kitchen for a snack. More likely, “Skins” is just another example of an English series lost in translation. And it’s not just because “aluminum” has five syllables over there. Culture affects the lens through which we view events. A television script is no exception. You only have to look as far as “The Office” to see a successful example of small changes that made the audience nod and smile rather than reach for the remote.
A simple way to experience what I mean is to watch “Law & Order: UK.” “L&O” is the first US dramatic series to be adapted for British television, so the cultural influence is on the other foot, so to speak. The initial 13 episodes are based on scripts from the original series. Since I’ve seen each of the originals four or five times, it was easy to run them side-by-side in my head. I will not say one is better than the other. Any show with Jamie Bamber is almost guaranteed at least one green thumb on my TiVO. I will say that the modifications made by Chris Chibnall and his writing team are fascinating. Obviously, plots had to be tweaked to adhere to British laws and add technological developments such as cellphones. But it was the subtler changes in story that caught my attention and clarified my thinking on the role culture plays in winning television adaptation.
(SPOILER ALERT) Take “Alesha,” which aired as episode 7 at the end of season 1 in the UK. This script was based on “Helpless,” which aired a third of the way through the third year of the American series. In the original, Dr. Elizabeth Olivet is raped by her gynecologist. In the British retelling, it is Prosecutor Alesha Phillips who suffers this traumatic experience. By having the incident happen to a more central character, they could explore the aftermath more deeply. They show her boss fretting about her and her colleague thrusting her into the spotlight in court to help her regain her inner strength. They also show a conversation between her and detective Matt Devlin that alludes to their long-term friendship. While the show still focuses on the case, these are exchanges drawing on backstory, something seldom seen in the original.
The shorter season (frequently 6 or 7 episodes to our 20 or 22) no doubt played a role in the acceleration of character interaction. But it also seems an adaptation to British cultural norms. The English tend to be far less direct in their communication than Americans. One can imagine them needing days, even months, before having a conversation Lennie Briscoe pulls off casually with the nearest hotdog vendor. Alluding to an established relationship provides the right conditions for Alesha to express herself. Additionally, the British generally need more discussion time before leaping into business than we go-go Yanks. The scene in which James Steel and George Castle discuss Alesha’s likely mental state is very short. However, it provides an appropriate basis for their resulting action plan, which might otherwise be perceived as unseemly.
“Law & Order: UK” has been well received on ITV1 and BBCA. If our networks want to see more success when drawing on material from across the pond, they would do well to put on the right lens before putting pen to [Dunder-Mifflin] paper.
The Drama of the Gifted Purchase
While most of this blog will be dedicated to exploring television content, I feel I must tell the story of my set, Gisele. (I name all my equipment, a habit started when I was a system supervisor. It was easier for me to remember a server named Sydney than TBX1482657941. I call my set Gisele because she is pretty and thin and I know at any moment she will be replaced by a younger model. Don’t bother to groan and pretend you didn’t see that coming.)
I am not going to reveal Gisele’s make or model. After reading many professional columns and customer reports, it is clear to me that this story could have happened no matter which set I selected. I am also not going to reveal the point of purchase (hereafter referred to as Pop.) A Pop team member thumbed his nose at Corporate Customer Care in order to do right by me. I will not reward his good deed by sending dozens of unhappy people in his direction. Assuming, of course, he still has a job. Lastly, you need to know that I am not the sort to buy every new gizmo that comes down the line. I replace items that are failing and purchase the best that I can afford.
I could write an entire post about how unpleasant it was to buy my home theater. One only has to read the news from the recent CES to know there are too many options, many of which aren’t pluses for the vast majority of consumers. Ultimately, I brought my system home and all was well… for a while. A few months later, I began having problems with the picture. Although I had not purchased an extended warranty (and don’t we all know not to), Pop had given me a year of parts and service. I called the 800 number on my receipt and to my surprise they diagnosed the problem over the phone. I later learned that my set only had three parts and even my mother would have had a 33.3% chance of getting it right.
Since the set was already a whopping few months old, the parts were hard to get and I was set-less for two weeks while they located the one they thought I needed. They then dispatched a young man who took my set apart on my carpet. I am a pretty good housekeeper, but there is no denying that static, dust, and a little Chex Mix live down there. By the time he left, my poor set had no picture, no sound and wouldn’t even turn on.
I called the 800 number again and learned that additional parts could each take up to a month to arrive and there was only one “trained” tech in my area. Evidently, no one was able to take responsibility for actually fixing the problem. In fact, the system seemed to be set up to do exactly the opposite; keep the problem going long enough for me to cough up more money. If I continued to follow their plan, the best I could hope for was a Frankenstein Monster of a set with a tad of carpet fuzz thrown in for good measure; not what you want after laying out $1700. I began pushing for a full replacement; the manufacturer and the Pop began pointing fingers at each other. The home electronics industry used to factor in the cost of a certain percentage of failures. Now, apparently, that’s on us.
My days as a system supervisor flooded back. I spent over 14 hours on the phone talking to over a dozen people. I don’t know if it was persistence or I just got lucky, but finally someone at Pop admitted that the set would never be fixed properly and agreed to exchange it. Corporate Customer Care was on the line and argued that my old set would then have to be repaired on their dime and sold through their Outlet. But he stood firm and I had Gisele by that evening. Presumably any parts she needs will be available, at least until the end of the month.
It is a shame, I’d even say a disgrace, that television manufacturers have forgotten that at the other end of their sleek design, fancy features, and constant upgrades are viewers who just want to watch “Burn Notice.” I realize it is too late and ultimately unsatisfactory to go back to the old days. But it is my sincere hope that disappointing sales along with directed push-back from informed consumers will result in a more enlightened process; that a Steve Jobs-like figure will emerge and lead us off this terrible path of too many complications and not enough satisfaction. Yes, it is a business, but television should be fun.
Remote Possibilities 