Earlier
this week, the New York Times business section ran a front page article on
television. In it, it said that ratings were dropping across the board for
every major network, that interest in reboots and reality shows were down, and
that even football was having problems getting an audience. In other news, the
Earth revolves around the sun, cows go moo, and politicians are less than
truthful.
I
am frankly amazed that it has taken this long for everyone to realize just how
dire the state of network television is. Certainly the artistic forces behind
television have been beefing about it for at least a decade, ever since the
seven year gap where no broadcast series was nominated for Best Drama. But now
that the networks are losing money, everyone is calling it a crisis. However,
this can’t come as a shock to anybody who’s watched television closely for the
last twenty years. Yes, millions of people are migrating to cable and streaming
services for television. That’s where the
good stuff is. And you know how I
know this? That’s where all the talent has been migrating for nearly twenty
years.
Entire
books have been written (and no doubt will continue to be written) about this
phenomena, doing far greater justice to the subject than I can in a smaller
state. For now, I’m just going to focus on the first great migration – that
period in the era of the first decade of this century when it seemed like all
of the talent in TV was working on HBO.
And
it’s not that much of an exaggeration. HBO had the right people in charge who
were willing to get talent to try and earn a niche of their own. Most people
believe that this started with The
Sopranos, but in reality, it started a full two years before that when Tom
Fontana, the genius who wrote so many of the great episodes of St. Elsewhere and Homicide decided he was tired of network interference, and took up
an offer to work for the commitment of an eight-episode drama set in a maximum
security prison. The show was called Oz.
Like
most progenitors of great art, a lot of critics didn’t get what they were
watching at first. TV Guide and the New York Times never quite warmed to it,
but other publications like Entertainment Weekly realized what the hell Fontana was trying. It
wasn’t just that the series was unrelentingly grim and bleak in a way that most
series anywhere hadn’t even tried, or that there was so much blood and male
nudity onscreen. It was that there were no heroes, and not a lot of people you
could even really like. It was a show that was willing to take risks – in the
Pilot, Fontana
introduced a character named Dino Ortolani, seemed to set him up like he was
going to be a lead, and that killed him at the climax. Gruesomely. The series
who introduced a couple of major characters a week, and kill off just as many
by the end of the episode. It was radical, and even now stands as one of the
bleakest offering cable – or anywhere, in fact – ever tried.
Slowly,
other talents migrated towards HBO. In particular were the holy trinity of
Davids; Chase, who had worked on I’ll Fly
Away and Northern Exposure; Simon,
who took over Fontana ’s
role as brains behind Homicide, and
Milch, the force behind NYPD Blue. Each
were the creative freedom to do what they wanted to do, and once again, I’m not
just referring to the profanity, nudity, and violence, though all three writers
were more than willing to use them. What all of them wanted to do was
experiment in ways that the networks, whose sole focus has been on making
palatable for mass consumption, would never have allowed them to do. Chase
wanted to make a drama about a sociopathic wiseguy who had mother issues that
emotionally damaged him. Simon wanted to tell a story about the war on drugs,
‘where the cops work for Enron and the dealers work for Enron, and both sides
get punished for their loyalty.” And Milch reinvented the western by using an
improvised system for scripts that had driven the staff and writers of NYPD
Blue insane the last years. The executives were willing to give them the
freedom to do this, and we now consider The
Sopranos, The Wire, and Deadwood among
the greatest shows ever made.
And
the networks reaction… was to yawn. All of the networks were guilty of this to
some extent, but the biggest offender by far was CBS. In 2000, they produced CSI, a police procedural about crime scene workers that was
technically sharp but emotionally empty. When it became a smash, every network
duplicated it, especially CBS. NBC’s
reaction was to put up three more Law
& Order franchises over the next four years, keep it hit comedies on
the air well past their expiration date, and milk ER until no one cared about it any more. Only ABC tried to do
anything to reverse its fortunes, and that came out of desperation. Tottering
on fourth place, in 2004 they introduced a series of brilliant creative
programs, some of which were just satires and revamps done refreshing well (Desperate Housewives and Boston Legal) or series that were truly
moonshots (Lost). And once those
series became smashes, every network tried to replicate them.
Now,
this doesn’t mean the network became artistic voids. On the contrary, a lot of
the comedy series of the past twenty years have been among the best ever
created – Parks and Recreation, The
Middle, black-ish, 30 Rock, and Community
have been among the most dazzling I’ve ever seen. And every so often, the
networks will produce genuine gems – The
Good Wife, Parenthood, Friday Night Lights, 24, and American Crime are
clearly astonishing works. But with the fracturing of the TV audience becoming
for and more clear with each year, the network keep trying to do one of three
things: procedurals, remakes (if not out and out continuations) of old series,
and reality show after reality show. Is it any wonder that after years of
having the same dreck forced upon us, millions have migrated to services where
the series are different? Say what you will about cable, it’s hard to believe Shameless and Billions can exist in the same universe, much less on the same
network. Cable networks have so many different original series one can hardly
find a common thread. NBC is basically the Dick Wolf network by now.
If
the networks want to save themselves – and if the article in the Times tells us anything, they clearly
need to – they need to be able to free themselves from the creative restraints
they seem to have. They need to give series more time to be a hit, they need to
make fewer remakes and be willing to risk failure. When NBC was tottering
around fourth a decade ago, they decided to stop trying to make functional
series and keep going with series that generally weren’t cookie cutter. They
failed a lot, but at least they were failing upward, and now they’re number 1
again. Of course, they now have an entire night to devote to Dick Wolf’s Chicago
series, so that may not last. But that’s the lesson they need to take if they
want to stay relevant and more importantly, solvent. Will they? I really hope
so. Of course, they may choose to reboot Scrubs
first, but at least we can hope.
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