>>> Aaron Barnhart's TVBARN.COM

Here are the spring 1999 ratings for the Kansas City market among listeners ages 12+, according to Arbitron (winter 1999 ratings in parentheses):

All-day (Mon-Sun 6 a.m.-midnight)
1. KMXV-FM (93.3), 8.5 share (5.7)
2. KQRC-FM (98.9), 7.4 (6.1)
3. KPRS-FM (103.3), 6.3 (7.5)
4. WDAF-AM (610), 6.2 (7.1)
5. KMBZ-AM (980), 6.1 (5.9)
6. KUDL-FM (98.1), 5.4 (5.4)
7. KCFX-FM (101.1), 4.9 (4.6)
8. (tie) KFKF-FM (94.1), 4.6 (6.8)
8. (tie) KCMO-FM (94.9), 4.6 (4.3)
10. (tie) KYYS-FM (99.7), 4.4 (4.5)
10. (tie) KBEQ-FM (104.3), 4.4 (4.4)
12. KCIY-FM (106.5), 3.8 (3.3)
13. KXTR-FM (96.5), 3.6* (3.3)
14. KCMO-AM (710), 3.4 (2.9)
15. KSRC-FM (102.1), 3.3 (3.4)
16. KCHZ-FM (95.7), 3.1 (2.4)
17. KNRX-FM (107.3), 2.6 (2.8)
18. KLZR-FM (105.9), 1.7 (1.3)
19. KPRT-AM (1590), 1.6 (1.9)
20. KCTE-AM (1510), 1.5 (2.2)
21. KFEZ-AM (1340), 0.9 (1.2)
22. KPHN-AM (1190), 0.7 (N/A) * KXTR-FM was simulcast on KUPN-AM (1480). KUPN has since been sold to HME Communications of Fayetteville, Ark.

NOTE: One share point represents one percent of listeners (persons using radio) during the average quarter-hour. Spring 1999 covers the period April 1-June 30.
These stations are non-commercial and non-rated: KCUR-FM (89.3), KKFI-FM (90.1), KLJC-FM (88.5), KRBW-FM (90.5), KWJC-FM (91.9)

Morning drive (6-10 a.m.) (winter 1999 share in parentheses)
1. KQRC, Johnny Dare and Murphy Wells, 9.2 (7.4)
2. WDAF, David Lawrence, 8.1 (10.4)
3. KMXV, Mike Kennedy and Nycki Pace, 6.8 (4.9)
4. KUDL, Dan Hurst and Glo Goodwin, 6.0 (5.5)
5. (tie) KMBZ, Noel Heckerson and Ellen Schenk, 5.9 (6.5)
5. (tie) KBEQ, Randy Miller, 5.9 (5.6)
7. KFKF, Dale Carter and Mary McKenna, 5.5 (6.7)
8. KPRS-FM, Sonny Andre and Myron D, 5.3 (6.9)
9. KYYS, Max Floyd, Larry Moffitt and Tanna Guthrie, 4.8 (4.9)
10. KCMO-AM, Mike Murphy, 4.2 (3.1)
Afternoon drive (3-7 p.m.)
1. KMXV, Kelly Urich, 9.2 (6.1)
2. KQRC, Valorie Knight, 7.2 (6.1)
3. KPRS-FM, Lauryn Nicole, 6.1 (6.9)
4. KCMO-FM, "Katfish" Kris Kelly, 5.6 (4.5)
5. KUDL, Sheral Collins, 5.1 (5.3)
6. KMBZ, Don Fortune and Soren Petro, 5.0 (4.8)
7. KCFX, Scott Johnson, 4.7 (5.2)
8. KYYS, Marty Wall, 4.6 (5.1)
9 (tie). KFKF, Mark McKay, 4.5 (7.2)
9 (tie). KBEQ, T.J. McEntire, 4.5 (4.7)


>>> Aaron Barnhart's TVBARN.COM

Here are the summer 1999 ratings for the Kansas City market among listeners ages 12+, according to Arbitron (spring 1999 ratings in parentheses):

All-day (Mon-Sun 6 a.m.-midnight)
1. KMXV-FM (93.3), 7.2 share (8.5)
2. KQRC-FM (98.9), 6.8 (7.4)
3. KBEQ-FM (104.3), 6.6 (4.4)
4. WDAF-AM (610), 6.5 (6.2)
5. KPRS-FM (103.3), 6.3 (6.3)
6. KMBZ-AM (980), 5.4 (6.1)
7. KFKF-FM (94.1), 5.2 (4.6)
8. KYYS-FM (99.7), 5.0 (4.4)
9. KCMO-FM (94.9), 5.0 (4.6)
10. KUDL-FM (98.1), 4.8 (5.4)
11. KCFX-FM (101.1), 4.3 (4.9)
12. KNRX-FM (107.3), 3.6 (2.6)
13. KSRC-FM (102.1), 3.5 (3.3)
14. KCIY-FM (106.5), 3.4 (3.8)
15. (tie) KXTR-FM (96.5), 3.0 (3.6)
15. (tie) KCMO-AM (710), 3.0 (3.4)
17. KCHZ-FM (95.7), 2.8 (3.1)
18. KCTE-AM (1510), 1.9 (1.5)
19. KLZR-FM (105.9), 1.4 (1.7)
20. KPRT-AM (1590), 1.2 (1.6)
21. KPHN-AM (1190), 0.9 (0.7) 22. KCCV-FM, 0.7 (NA)

NOTE: One share point represents one percent of listeners (persons using radio) during the average quarter-hour. Spring 1999 covers the period July-Sept.
These stations are non-commercial and non-rated: KCUR-FM (89.3), KKFI-FM (90.1), KLJC-FM (88.5), KRBW-FM (90.5), KWJC-FM (91.9)

Morning drive (Monday-Friday, 6-10 a.m.) (spring 1999 share in parentheses)
1. WDAF, David Lawrence, 9.5 (8.1)
2. KQRC, Johnny Dare and Murphy Wells, 9.3 (9.2)
3. KBEQ, Randy Miller, 6.7 (5.9)
4. KFKF, Dale Carter and Mary McKenna, 6.2 (5.5)
5. KYYS, Max Floyd, Larry Moffitt and Tanna Guthrie, 6.0 (4.8)
6. KPRS-FM, Sonny Andre and Myron D, 5.8 (5.3)
7. KMXV, 5.4 (6.8)
8. (tie) KMBZ, Noel Heckerson and Ellen Schenk, 4.5 (5.9)
8. (tie) KCMO-FM, Dick Wilson, 4.5 (NA)
10. KUDL, Dan Hurst and Glo Goodwin, 4.4 (6.0)
Afternoon drive (Monday-Friday, 3-7 p.m.)
1. KMXV, Kelly Urich, 8.0 (9.2)
2. KBEQ, Shotgun Jeff Jaxon, 6.8 (4.5)
3. KQRC, Valorie Knight, 6.5 (7.2)
4. KPRS-FM, Lauryn Nicole, 5.5 (6.1)
5. KFKF, Mark McKay, 5.4 (4.5)
6. KYYS, Marty Wall, 5.1 (4.6)
7. KUDL, Sheral Collins, 5.0 (5.1)
8. KCMO-FM, "Katfish" Kris Kelly, 4.8 (5.6)
9. (tie) KMBZ, Don Fortune and Soren Petro, 4.7 (5.0)
9. (tie) WDAF, Dan Roberts/Bruce Efron, 4.7 (NA)

>>> Aaron Barnhart's TVBARN.COM

Here are the winter 1999 ratings for the Kansas City market among listeners ages 12+, according to Arbitron:

All-day (Mon-Sun 6 a.m.-midnight)
1. KPRS-FM (103.3), 7.5 share
2. WDAF-AM (610), 7.1
3. KFKF-FM (94.1), 6.8
4. KQRC-FM (98.9), 6.1
5. KMBZ-AM (980), 5.9
6. KMXV-FM (93.3), 5.7
7. KUDL-FM (98.1), 5.4
8. KCFX-FM (101.1), 4.6
9. KYYS-FM (99.7), 4.5
10. KBEQ-FM (104.3), 4.4
11. KCMO-FM (94.9), 4.3
12. KSRC-FM (102.1), 3.4
13. KCIY-FM (106.5), 3.3 (tie)
13. KXTR-FM (96.5), 3.3 (tie)
15. KCMO-AM (710), 2.9
16. KNRX-FM (107.3), 2.8
17. KCHZ-FM (95.7), 2.4
18. KCTE-AM (1510), 2.2
19. KPRT-AM (1590), 1.9
20. KLZR-FM (105.9), 1.3
21. KFEZ-AM (1340), 1.2

NOTE: One share point represents one percent of listeners (persons using radio) during the average quarter-hour. Winter 1999 covers the period Jan. 7-Mar. 31.
These stations are non-commercial and non-rated: KCUR-FM (89.3), KKFI-FM (90.1), KLJC-FM (88.5), KRBW-FM (90.5), KWJC-FM (91.9)

Morning drive (6-10 a.m.)
1. WDAF, David Lawrence, 10.4 share
2. KQRC, Johnny Dare and Murphy Wells, 7.4
3. KPRS-FM, Sonny Andre and Myron D, 6.9
4. KFKF, Dale Carter and Mary McKenna, 6.7
5. KMBZ, Noel Heckerson and Ellen Schenk, 6.5
6. KBEQ, Randy Miller, 5.6
7. KUDL, Dan Hurst and Glo Goodwin, 5.5
8. KMXV, Denis Prior, 4.9 (tie)
8. KYYS, Max Floyd, Larry Moffitt and Tanna Guthrie, 4.9 (tie)
10. KCFX, Rick Tamblyn, T.J. Price and Karen Barber, 3.8 (tie)
10. KCMO-FM, Dick Wilson, Katey McGuckin and Teri Wilder, 3.8 (tie)
12. KSRC, 3.3
13. KCMO-AM, 3.1
14. KCIY, 2.6
15. KXTR, 2.4 (tie)
15. KPRT-AM, 2.4 (tie) Afternoon drive (3-7 p.m.)
1. KFKF, 7.2
2. KPRS-FM, 6.9
3. KQRC, 6.1
4. KMBZ, 4.8
5. KUDL, 5.3
6. KCFX, 5.2
7. KYYS, 5.1
8. WDAF, 4.8 (tie)
8. KMBZ, 4.8 (tie)
10. KBEQ, 4.7
11. KCMO-FM, 4.5
12. KCTE-AM, 4.2
13. KSRC, 3.7
14. KCIY, 3.4
15. KNRX, 3.0 "http://www.w3.org/TR/1999/REC-html401-19991224/loose.dtd">

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"Survivor": The Tiger of the Eye When CBS announced last year that it had acquired the U.S. rights to an adventure game known in Sweden as "Expedition Robinson," jaded TV critics immediately assumed the network was just trying to capitalize on the unexpected success of ABC's "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire." Little did we know at the time that "Survivor," as the show was renamed here, would establish itself as a ratings terror and social phenomenon in its own right. That instead of "final answer," we'd be haunted by refrains of "The tribe has spoken." That we would spend so darned much time discussing the fat, balding corporate trainer, the Teflon-coated YMCA instructor or the truck driver with the atrocious spelling. Certainly TV Barn didn't. But now that we've gone on -- and on -- about "Survivor," it's only right that we assemble all the gossip and spoilers from Survivor Isle, not to mention unsavory news about the survivors' real lives, into one easy-to-get-lost-in place. So here it is. Stay as long as you like, but please don't ask for food or soap. Pre-"Survivor": Search TV Barn

this site www.searchbutton.com the web www.goto.com

Copyright © 2000 Aaron Barnhart
Redistribution prohibited. Magnolia (1999) "stars-3-2.gif"
New Line Home Video
Full IMDb listing by ANDY IHNATKO It's a massive, magnificent fractal curve of a movie. You know it's beautiful with your first surface glance. And then you sense a complexity lurking underneath somewhere, and you're compelled to examine it more closely. But when you zoom in and start looking at its details, you only see more texture and more details. And yet, at each and every level you see echoes of the simple beauty that drew you in in the first place and get a sense that it penetrates far deeper than you'll ever really appreciate. Good God, what a movie. Paul Thomas Anderson's "Magnolia" is all about the impossibility of living up to your self-image. It's about loneliness. It's about confronting the certainty of your death. It's about how you can live your entire life during a single, numb moment when you're just staring into space. It's about The Moment of Truth. It's about parents and children. It's about television. It's about miracles actually happening. It's about the endless opportunities for success and redemption. It's about love and it's about faith and it's about regret. To quote "Bull Durham": We're dealing with a lot of s***, here. "Magnolia" is what I call a "Shred Film." This is where you take several small-scale, unrelated stories, shred them to bits, and then edit them all together and fill up the running length of a feature film. A typical traditional movie is about is about the beginning, complication, and resolution of a relationship between two people, usually Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. A Shred Film is just about that one twenty-minute scene they have at the coffee shop, only you also learn about the mechanic who fixed Hanks' car that morning, the fight between the gay couple that owns the coffeeshop, the elderly man who lives next-door to the gay couple, and so on. Taking all factors into consideration, the Snuff Film remains the single riskiest form of storytelling. But the Shred Film isn't far behind. How can you possibly make this sort of thing work? You've precious little time to spend on each story and just as you're building momentum, you have to switch to another one. The big failures wind up looking like an episode of "The Love Boat," with flat, uninvolving stories that only perk up during those brief moments of novelty when stories overlap. Robert Altman's "Short Cuts" — there, I mentioned Robert Altman in a review of Magnolia; if you had "Paragraph Seven" in the pool, you're now one step closer to winning that 2001 Mercury Sable — did a fair job. It was entertaining enough, but during the drive home from the theater it started to dawn on me that I was more entertained by the novelty of the movie than the movie itself. "Magnolia" is a success thanks to Anderson's awareness of Shred's limitations. Without the luxury of time and plot development, the stories have to be carried by characterization. This calls for both colorful, easily grasped characters and damned great performances and "Magnolia"'s are unassailable: Jason Robards is a TV producer in the final stages of cancer. He reported to the set shortly after recovering from a nine-week coma during which he lost fifty pounds, so physically and emotionally his performance is almost uncomfortably good. Julianne Moore is his young wife, looking for the courage to cope and finding it in odd places. Tom Cruise is sort of the Andrew Dice Clay of infomercial self-help gurus. John C. Reilly is definitely a Loner Cop, but not in that cool Clint Eastwood way. Philip Baker Hall is the host of a long-running kids' quiz show. Jeremy Blackman is the show's current champion, while William H. Macy was a winning contestant thirty years ago. He's managed to build upon and surpass his childhood success so well that today he's a grown man whom everyone still refers to as "Quiz Kid Donnie Smith." These and other characters follow the Shred Film path of a moderately ordinary day with random intersections. But the execution is singularly successful. I don't think there's another film I've enjoyed more than "Magnolia." I sat there with an enormous grin, totally aware that I was witnessing a compelling standalone explanation of why the humans bothered to invent film in the first place and why the artform should be spared after the alien holocaust. But after about two and a half hours, I was also totally aware that I'd been sitting there for at least four hours. It's long: over three hours and fifteen minutes. A little voice keeps reminding me of Roger Ebert's comment about the running length of films: that good films are never long enough and bad ones are never short enough. Then another voice tells the first one that it's being a total sissy and that the running length shouldn't cause me to dismiss "Magnolia." What Ebert said is very, very true. But when a movie puts the utterly impossible on the screen — and "Magnolia" does that three or four times, as when all the characters start humming along with the song on the soundtrack, wherever they are — and you simply buy into it without a single blip, you can't deny that this picture simply Works. Besides, it's easy to see where some cuts should have been made. The film is framed with quasi-archival news footage and a repetitive and obsessive verbal essay (narrated by magician Ricky Jay) on the subject of the nature of The Coincidence and The Miraculous. This is meant to help underscore and set us up for the various Incidents and Intersections that take place in the film. But it's a waste of time and self-defeating besides. Ricky Jay is probably the most talented card magician of our day. He certainly wouldn't take the stage and start off by explaining "Look, folks, I'm going to do some card tricks; sometimes, I'm going to palm cards, other times I'm going to make you look at one hand while I'm doing something sneaky with the other.." et cetera. We, the audience, understand the basic concept, and even if we don't specifically know about the Svengali Drop, we can follow what's going on. It's vaguely offensive to have all of this laboriously explained at the outset. Maybe Paul Thomas Anderson is offending the audience by suggesting that we're too slow on the uptake. Maybe he's offending the film by showing such a lack of faith in his material's ability to stand on its own. And the foreword planted a popcorn husk between my teeth and gums that kept me partially distracted throughout the whole last half of the film. If the opening scene in a film is of someone dramatically placing a gun in a desk drawer, you just can't help but wonder when that gun is going to come into play. And the longer you're left wondering, the worse it gets. "Magnolia" doesn't need explanation or cheap gimmicks thanks to its construction. On first viewing, it's a great storytelling experience. On second viewing, you sense that the characters aren't merely leading intersecting lives but lives that are actually parallel. And after the third or fourth you recognize that this is chiefly because all of these characters are leading our lives, wandering across hills and valleys that are universal, differing only in what sort of time you're making as you go. And you will see "Magnolia" over and over again, which is the highest praise you can give a film. You can see whatever you want in "Magnolia" but in the end, what you see will be pretty damned familiar.
The DVD Features widescreen aspect ratio, scene selection; original trailers and TV ads; English subtitles. Music video for Aimee Mann's "Save Me," which is a real pipperoo because it features all-original footage with the entire cast and sets. Picture is dazzling. Superior cinematography with the full palette of light used to maximum impact. If you don't understand why you should have bought a Trinitron, try to adjust your Quasar set to show off all of the shadow details here. Sound is — oddly enough for a dramatic movie — just as vital as the picture and given the same amount of lavish attention. Chiefly this is through music. This disc is definitely worth playing in the good room with the nicely-tuned speaker system. Dolby 5.1 and 2.0 audio. Behind-The-Scenes Documentary is sort of a 70-minute video production diary. A definite step below a proper "making of" documentary but well above the standard of a make-work project directors assign to their mistresses as an excuse to keep them around on the set. A nice, meaty mix of talks with the director, rehearsals, and behind-the-scenes details of the shoot. Deleted scenes are valuable, even if they consist exclusively of Tom Cruise's infomercial seminar. One shudders to think that "Magnolia" could have been made even longer, but the truth is that these scenes are the equal of anything that made the final cut. Outtakes are Easter Eggs hidden in the one place on the Supplemental disc that you'd be least likely to explore. Some bloopers, some giggling, some practical jokes and goofing around during takes. DVD-ROM content is Windows-only, and if the producers couldn't be bothered to create content that was worth viewing on a Macintosh then the content can't possibly be worth my going to any extra trouble to . New Line Home Video Cat. # N5029
Copyright ©2000 Andy Ihnatko. May not be redistributed without permission. Studio PR types wishing to send Andy tapes, promotional clothing, or high-end video gear in hopes of securing a positive review are advised that such efforts are futile, but they're free to try to determine how high Andy's price actually is. Mail any and all pelft to Box 279, Norwood, MA 02062. He already has a subwoofer for his home-theater but could probably use a good pair of casual slacks.

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The TV Critic's Toolbox "You've got the best job," people always tell me. "You get paid just to sit around and watch TV." Would that it were so easy for the average TV critic. The industry is going through unprecedented economic and technological upheaval. And it's our job to try to make sense of all the changes and explain them to our readers. There are more than 200 broadcast and cable networks now in service. Many but by no means all of them are probably on your local cable system. This increase in channel capacity has fueled a huge demand for fresh programming. Most cable channels no longer subsist on diets of old movies, reruns and el cheapo talk shows. And that is the primary reason why the old broadcast paradigm has shifted -- or rather, buckled violently and collapsed in a heap of rubble. Think about it: Today three cable entities -- ESPN, Turner and Fox -- are calling most of the shots in the lucrative market of sports television. CNN is considered a more trustworthy news source by Americans than any broadcast or print outlet. Then there's technology. One out of nine homes has a satellite dish, in near-defiance of the TV stations in their communities. In response, the cable industry is converting to a digital standard that will multiply consumer choices. Plus don't look now, but here comes the Internet. Now try covering all that while trying to figure out whether "Freaks and Geeks" should live or die. Not as easy as it looks. I'm up to the challenge, but the truth is that all of us, to some degree, need to be TV critics. That's why I've assembled The TV Critic's Toolbox, a set of resources ordinary viewers can use to learn more about the TV industry and the programs it chooses to offer on commercial television. So that the next time you or your kids are watching a formulaic sitcom or a cynical action show or a newscast from hell, you won't just take it sitting down.

TV violence: What you should know

Television violence is the single most preventable public health hazard there is. It is ubiquitous, and yet all but a small fraction of American parents tolerate the amount of violent TV piped into their houses because they assume there's nothing to be done about it. So they rationalize, thinking, "It can't be that bad -- after all, it was violent when I grew up." Well, no offense, but it's not exactly the streets of Oslo in American's cities and suburbs. Violence is a serious public health matter. And there is no more demonstrable link in all of modern psychology than the one between TV violence and aggressive behavior in children. Turn it off, and the kids will tone it down. It's that simple. But don't take my word for it. Read some of the stories I've reported, read some specialists like those listed below, and then decide for yourself. Then go out and buy that new TV set with the V-chip inside. (All sets made in 2000 will have them, even though the electronics industry has done jack to promote this fact.) It's a simple, elegantly designed filter, it really works, and you can begin using it tonight. TV industry under increasing pressure to reduce violent programming -- Kansas City Star, May 10, 1999 The V-chip: It actually works -- TV Barn, Aug. 9, 1999 Giving the V-chip a chance -- TV Barn, June 28, 1999 TV ratings still flawed, survey finds -- Kansas City Star, May 28, 1998 TV ratings headed for rewrite -- Kansas City Star, June 25, 1997 The V-chip is about technology, not censorship -- Kansas City Star, March 22, 1997 Other sources Children Now conducts insightful media-literacy studies; a May 1998 study found that kids associate white TV characters with positive traits like intelligence, good grades and leadership, while minority TV characters were associated with laziness, goofiness, and breaking the law. Here's the official V-chip page of the Federal Communications Commission. The Center for Media Education's V-chip education page. Also, let me direct your attention to two authorities on the effects of violent media: See No Evil: A Guide to Protecting Our Children from Media Violence
by Madeline Levine (Jossey-Bass, 1998) Clinical psychologist Madeline Levine is the most persuasive and authentic expert I have ever read on the topic of the media's effects on young children. Levine connects all the dots. She explains the psychological challenges faced by kids at every stage of development -- early, middle and older childhood and into adolescence -- and how at each stage they are vulnerable to certain messages conveyed to them by TV and movies. She explains why shows like "Party of Five" and "Home Improvement" are responsible choices and why many shows aimed at the very youngest viewers aren't. And she does it all in beautiful prose that will make her arguments resound even more deeply with readers. She would make an excellent cultural critic; her discursus on Jodie Foster in the film Contact on page 176 is moving and wise. See No Evil is more than a treatise. It's a resource for parents who don't want to pull their kids out of the mainstream culture but need help navigating them through the endless array of entertainment choices. As Levine writes in her introduction, "Since all passion inevitably flows from personal commitment, I have written this book because I do not want my three sons growing up in a society that routinely glorifies violence and denies social responsibility." Another book of hers, Viewing Violence, is also useful. How to Talk Back to Your Television Set
by Nicholas Johnson (Little Brown, 1970)
Full text of book online "Despised by broadcasters and hailed by consumer advocates, Nicholas Johnson's 1966-1973 tenure at the Federal Communication Commission (FCC) was described as the most controversial in the history of the commission ..." How did this mild-mannered Iowan with no communications background earn himself this singular honor? Among other things, he single-handedly fought the notorious proposed merger of ABC and ITT (which was eventually scrapped), rebuked his fellow commissioners for not enforcing the agency's rules on public-service obligations and in general presented a side of the FCC not often seen -- as the New York Times would put it, "as public defender instead of industry apologist." Prophetically, Advertising Age observed that "if diversity of viewpoint is important, the long-range danger at the FCC may be from lack of advocates like Nick Johnson," and indeed in the quarter-century since his service, few if any commissioners have dared to raise the hackles of the broadcasting industry, now considered the most powerful lobby on Capitol Hill and the recent recipient of billions of dollars in free broadcast spectrum. (Here's a complete description of Johnson's tenure at the FCC from a 1996 paper.) What's cheering about the Nick Johnson story is that it doesn't end in 1973. Instead of sticking around in Washington and working the revolving door for fame and fortune, Johnson returned to Iowa after his FCC term ended, took a faculty position as a law professor and continued to offer his views on matters of public import -- not just on radio and TV issues but education, cyberspace, and communications policy around the world. His Web page contains a vast bibliography, which he updates constantly, of articles, speeches, letters-to-the-editor, you name it (e.g., "All-Day Kindergarten: Sorting Through the Pros and Cons"). Johnson's work on media literacy is an essential addition to the TV Critic's Toolbox. Among other pieces is this recent article on media literacy. And although I didn't know it at the time I started using the phrase, Johnson wrote a book (see link above) entitled, "How to Talk Back to Your TV Set," in 1970. A World Split Apart
Alexander Solzhenitsyn's Address at Harvard University
June 8, 1978 "The fight for our planet, physical and spiritual, a fight of cosmic proportions, is not a vague matter of the future; it has already started. ... And yet your screens and publications are full of prescribed smiles and raised glasses. What is the joy about?" The heroic Russian emigre had only been in the U.S. four years when he delivered this concussion to a complacent West. The Harvard address marked the end of Solzhenitsyn's honeymoon with Western culture; after it, only political conservatives continued to take him seriously. But read Solzhenitsyn's speech today through the lens of the modern mediascope, which is now dominated by corporations that can barely be distinguished from the public institutions that regulate them. The old shaggy novelist's warnings, especially about "the press" (as he called the media), still hold up. The themes of the Harvard address are broad and abstract: Courage. Willpower. Moral fortitude. Spirituality. What do these have to do with television? They are all themes that are either underplayed or misrepresented by our most mass medium. The satirist Ken Finkleman once observed that television is only interested in telling about five or six stories about people, over and over and over again. That's because they're tried and true in getting viewers to watch. Though Solzhenitsyn is harsh toward TV and modern music, I don't think his comments on mass media should simply be taken at face value. Mass media is a communications device, and though imperfect (mainly because of its rampant commercialism) it does routinely convey the agenda of Americans in their public life as well as in their copious leisure time. The media is a mirror of the Western mindset; the Harvard address was an attempt to hold a mirror up to that mirror and show what an uninspiring a view of our culture that is. The solution is not to get rid of television, but "to rise to a new height of vision."

Books about TV

Below are listed some books and several websites I've found helpful in my own work. Clicking on any of the book covers or titles will take you to powells.com for ordering.

Reference:

The Complete Directory to Prime Time Network and Cable TV Shows 1946-Present (7th Ed, Revised)
by Tim Brooks and Earle Marsh (Ballantine, 2000) Total Television: The Comprehensive Guide to Programming from 1948 to the Present (4th Ed)
by Alex McNeil (Penguin, 1996) I rely on these two sources nearly every day. Brooks and Marsh have the better format, McNeil has more shows (because he covers all dayparts, not just prime time). Brooks and Marsh are especially good at dissecting the most popular formats and identifying copycats of more successful shows. Both men have backgrounds in number-crunching; Brooks was the top researcher at USA Networks for many years and one of the smartest people I know in TV when it comes to seeing the big picture. The 2000 edition contains substantially more cable listings than the 1995 edition. McNeil's book comes with a multimedia CD-ROM; unfortunately it's for Wintel PC's only, so I can't view it on my Macintosh.
Broadcast/Cable Programming: Strategies and Practices
by Susan Tyler Eastman and Douglas A. Ferguson (Walsworth, 1997) For people serious about understanding how the industry works, this textbook (pricey at $67) is a worthwhile investment. I bought Broadcast/Cable Programming when I was hired by The Kansas City Star and have relied on it ever since. Like all textbooks, it'll be revised soon, but you'll find the information inside this 1997 edition very up-to-date. This book will explain perhaps more than you care to know about the way TV station managers, program sales reps and program creators view America's favorite medium. TV is a tough, bottom-line-fixated business; what you think of as "shows," they think of as "product." Ratings Analysis : The Theory and Practice of Audience Research (Lea's Communication Series)
by James G. Webster, Patricia Phalen, Lawrence W. Lichty One of my long-longtime readers, Karla Robinson, of Kentucky's School of Journalism and Telecommunications, recommends this title: "It's the best book I've seen on ratings: how they're collected, what they mean, how they're used by the industry, the difference between overnights and sweeps, etc."

General:


Defining Vision: The Battle for the Future of Television
by Joel Brinkley (Harcourt Brace, revd. ed., 1998) Within the next 15 years, you will be replacing your television set with an all-new model capable of receiving just about anything that can be sent out as digital data -- programs, Web pages, or virtual storefronts at your favorite interactive mall -- and presenting it on a breathtakingly sharp and vivid screen with theater-quality sound. That's the future, at least, as seen by Joel Brinkley, a reporter for the New York Times, in this highly readable insider account of the evolution of digital television. After a Japanese demonstration of its brilliant new prototype high-definition TV system in 1987, panicked Congressmen sensed another Sputnik-like epochal moment coming on. So they quickly set up an advisory committee on advanced TV and set up a grand "bake-off" to determine which standards, and whose technology, would be used in creating the U.S. standard for HDTV (and if it wasn't too late, the world standard, too). A company in San Diego called General Instrument joined the competition at the 11th hour and may very well have altered the future of television, because it introduced an all-digital transmission system for TV signals -- two decades before most industry experts believed it could be done. "Defining Vision" includes some picturesque descriptions of how digital communications works, and why it will utterly change the old analog order of things. Brinkley also plainly thinks that the best way to bring about the information revolution is through the one appliance everyone has -- the TV set -- and to do it for free. And this helps him breathe life into his account of the unending and occasionally bizarre political process digital TV endured. Unfortunately, the digital-TV story also involved mundane backroom dealings and petty squabbles among "the children" (the author's favorite term for the contestants), and Brinkley unwisely fills too many pages trying to paint these moments in Olympian tones. But in the end, he does remind us that all the high-stakes wrangling was for good reason.
Dictionary of Teleliteracy: Television's 500 Biggest Hits, Misses, and Events
by David Bianculli (Continuum, 1996) No one is a better chronicler of the last generation of TV than Bianculli, the New York Daily News critic and NPR commentator. He's well known for his enthusiasm for TV and his thoroughness; I once watched him sit through five episodes of "The Hunger," a series airing on Showtime, to prepare himself for one average-length review (and not a very positive one at that). His 500 picks range from "Cavalcade of Stars" and the Kefauver Crime Commission hearings to the moon landing and "The Great American Dream Machine" to Michael Jackson's 1993 interview with Oprah and the first season of "Friends." Beware: Bianculli loves puns.
The Box: An Oral History of Television 1920-1961
By Jeff Kisseloff (Viking, 1995) Oral historian Kisseloff believes in Studs Terkel's credo, "I tape, therefore I am." His eye-opening memoir retells the early years of television in an astonishingly candid and critical voice. Or should I say voices: "The Box" is actually told by hundreds of inventors, producers, writers, actors, broadcasters, advertisers and executives who were there. Kisseloff painstakingly pulled sentences and paragraphs at a time from individual interviews and assembled them into chapter-length composites. The effect is extraordinary: Each chapter reads as though all of his subjects had been conversing in the room at once -- "bantering and trading war stories over beers at Hurley's bar," as Kisseloff puts it in his introduction. Despite its anecdotal nature, this is an authoritative book covering every stage in the creation of American TV. Edward Padula describes becoming a producer for NBC in 1938, when only a few hundred sets were in use and trial-and-error was the prevailing technical method of the day. An entire chapter is devoted to KTLA, the independent station that continued to put innovate and hugely popular local programs on the air long after its competitors began receiving network feeds from the East Coast. The "golden age" of live quality productions like "Studio One" and "Philco Playhouse" is lovingly recreated by some of its principal creators. Where the book becomes a serious work of media criticism is in the passages describing the tarnished ages that overlapped with the golden. There is a chapter on the blacklisting of accused Communist sympathizers, and another on the 1950s quiz show scandals. Joe Cates, who helped create "The $64,000 Question," told Kisseloff how the show managed to keep its total budget to a measly $11,000 a week, and how Joyce Brothers won the big prize despite instructions from the sponsor, Charles Revson, that she be given the hardest questions possible (as Cates inelegantly put it, "Charlie wanted Joyce knocked off"). From that level of behind-the-scenes control, it was a logical leap to the outright cheating on "Twenty One," carried out by contestants Herbert Stempel (whose bitter rants are the center of this chapter) and Charles Van Doren (mum after all these years). Other times, Kisseloff's book really does sound like "Overheard at Hurley's": the small-time mobster who got his own summer series, then tried to get his director bumped off; the singer whose wholesome, patriotic show was a non-stop orgy behind the scenes; the TV circus literally brought to its knees by a flurry of elephant crap. But there are inspiring moments too, including Edward R. Murrow's famous on-air confrontation of Senator Joe McCarthy, recounted here by several of Murrow's colleagues. His producer Fred Friendly tells Kisseloff, "To this day, radio at its best is far superior to television," but adds that when Murrow was on the air, "people suddenly saw, 'this is what television can do.'" It still could.
On Air: The Best of Tavis Smiley on the Tom Joyner Morning Show
by Tavis Smiley, with introduction by Tom Joyner (Pines One Pub., 1998) Radio commentaries from the upstanding and progressive host of the nightly interview show "BET Tonight." Smiley is not really a media critic, but he speaks to a large minority of mainstream Americans through BET and the syndicated Tom Joyner radio program. This book demonstrates not only how restricted is the outlook of much of the so-called mainstream press, but also how one broadcaster can still reach millions of people and spur them to action. When several Texaco executives were caught on tape demeaning their black co-workers, Smiley urged listeners to boycott the company and write letters of protest. In response, the CEO of Texaco appeared on "BET Tonight" on two different occasions. Smiley's commentaries were also credited with shooting down a bill in House committee that would end all federal affirmative action.
Team Rodent: How Disney Devours the World
by Carl Hiaasen (Library of Contemp. Thought, 1998) In this brief and at times very funny issue from the Library of Contemporary Thought series, the masterful Miami Herald columnist spells out the case against the most disturbing media company on Earth. Disney's corporate culture puts brand identity and "wholesome family entertainment" over all other considerations -- including at times the welfare and safety of its theme park customers. Hiassen's critique is applicable to large media companies as a whole, which are more concerned with increasing their distribution and obliterating smaller competitors than with the quality or diversity of their product.

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Articles for February 1999

Remembering Gene Siskel

February 21, 1999--He had been one of my longtime readers on the Internet and, in our occasional e-mail exchanges, mentioned more than once that he wanted to meet me in person. So when I came to Chicago last October, Gene Siskel invited me to accompany him and a few others to a screening and lunch. But I ran late finishing a rewrite for my paper back in Kansas City and had to blow off the date. Afterward, I called Gene at home to say sorry, maybe we could hook up the next time I was in town. He cut me off. "Where are you?" he said. I told him I was just about to walk over to the city's largest independent bookseller to hawk copies of my TV guide. I'd published this thing myself and was hand-distributing it where I could. "I'll meet you there in ten minutes," said Gene. Sure enough, ten minutes later he walked into the bookstore. At first I wasn't sure it was him. He was wearing a blue hunting jacket and a cap that made him look almost nondescript. I said "almost" -- at 6-foot-4, he stood out like Saul. And when he took off the cap, he revealed one of the best-known scalps in the city if not the nation. I said I was waiting for the book consigner to return from an errand. "When she does," Gene said in a conspiratorial voice, "here's what we'll do. You'll sell her some copies, then I'll go up to her and ask her to sell me a copy." Sounded like fun. I spoke with the consigner, who agreed to take a few copies, which I went to retrieve. By the time I returned to the front desk, however, Gene had charmed her into taking every copy I had brought with me to Chicago. And then I heard her say -- not to me, of course, but to my newly self-appointed distribution agent -- that she would make sure copies got onto the racks at all the other store locations in the area. It had taken me three days to consign all my books when I visited the Bay Area; here, Gene had gotten the job done in five minutes. Then the sales pitch evolved into an impromptu session of "Siskel And." Every employee and customer in the store had now gathered around us. Gene was fully in his element -- as he was whenever people wanted to talk about movies and about Siskel and Ebert. "Roger claims to have invented 'two thumbs up,'" Gene told the assembled, "but I invented 'two thumbs way up." Gene waited a beat, then added, "And I'm pretty sure I'm the one responsible for 'two thumbs way, way up.'" Big laughs. The critic who had minutes earlier slipped into this store incognito was striding out of it a fully recognized celebrity. He loved it. Gene Siskel enjoyed being famous more than anybody I've ever met. He loved being spotted, loved to recapitulate his reviews, loved filling up college auditoriums around the country with Roger. He loved being caught on camera at the United Center, cheering on his Bulls. He loved being on Carson and Letterman. But as he battled the complications that arose after a growth was removed from his brain last May -- complications that claimed his life on Saturday, at the age of 53 -- Gene turned sharply and puzzlingly inward, fiercely guarding his medical condition, all the while keeping up a happy and productive exterior. *** We were at Starbucks, shortly after completing our conquest, when I brought up the subject. It had been five months since his emergency brain surgery. How was he feeling? Gene said he was fine. He told me about a conversation he'd had with Jeffrey Katzenberg, the former No. 2 man at Walt Disney Co. who had gone on to form DreamWorks with Steven Spielberg and David Geffen. Like Siskel, Katzenberg had been operated on for a brain condition. Gene said, "Jeffrey had used this phrase, he said, 'I just decided I would power through it.' And I liked that. So that's what I'm doing -- I'm powering through it." Gene's point was that he only knew how to operate in one gear. If he tried to downshift while recovering from surgery, it wouldn't work. So instead he resumed his normal routine of five jobs -- newspaper critic, "Siskel & Ebert," and contributor to WBBM-TV, "CBS This Morning" and TV Guide -- two weeks after having surgery. The announcement that he would be setting those duties aside came just 17 days before his death. We had been chatting for an hour, mostly talking shop, when I asked Gene if he needed to be getting home. No, he said, he'd told his wife he would be gone until 7 o'clock, meaning we still had another two hours. I chuckled to myself. A man with five jobs has time on a Thursday afternoon for an out-of-town Internet scribe? As I later learned, this was one of the sides of Gene known to his small circle of close friends and few others. "He's a very hard man to nail down, but when you do get together with him, it's like the clock doesn't even exist," one of those friends told me. "He's a very generous man with his time." And that particularly extended to his wife, whom he met at WBBM, and his three children. We talked about our favorite topic of mutual interest, "Late Show with David Letterman." Gene wanted to try out on me something he planned to say to Dave the next time he and Roger appeared on the show. When Gene was recovering from surgery, Dave sent him a collection of baseball essays by Tom Boswell of the Washington Post because he knew they shared a love for the game. Letterman also phoned Gene and the two men talked for about half an hour. "He doesn't like to talk about things like that on his show, but I think it's a side of him people should see more," Gene said. I told him I agreed and that he should say it exactly like that on the program. Gene proposed that we walk back toward his condo in Lincoln Park, about two miles. Along the way, I saw that he was tilting a little as he walked. I asked him if he'd hurt his foot. That was a mistake: Gene immediately became self-conscious about his walking posture and tried to correct it, not very successfully. Now he was listing noticeably. He would downplay it with a self-effacing comment every few blocks. Later, we entered a bookshop owned by a friend of his and Gene walked right into a book cart. Five days after this, I received an e-mail from him, bringing up the walk again and trying once more to play it down ("Probably a muscle pull," he wrote). I later learned that Gene had been doing this with practically everyone. Whether out of denial or simply a sense that his private life was of no concern to those outside his immediate family, Gene kept his medical condition out of the public eye -- that same public eye he had joyfully occupied for three decades. Many people who woke up Sunday to the news of his passing had no idea Gene was even seriously ill. And that was how Gene wanted it. That was his choice, and it was not a wrong choice. But it was a curious one given the relationship he had forged over the years with millions of Americans. Herb Caen, by contrast, shared the news of his terminal cancer with the readers of his newspaper column. More recently Walter Payton shared at a tearful press conference that he needed a liver transplant or else he would die. Both men had been reluctant to go public with their news, and both were overwhelmed by the outpouring of support that followed. Maybe Gene Siskel didn't need that kind of public embrace. Maybe he didn't want it or feel it was merited. For whatever reason, he chose to play out his last act on this Earth quietly, before the people who mattered most to him, his family. For the rest of us, his decision to, in his words, "power through it" made his loss feel so sudden, as if he had died in a plane crash, and it left our affection for him finally unexpressed. *** About a year ago, in a phone interview, I asked Gene if he wished movie critics had more power to close down films the way New York Times theater critics could close down a Broadway show. Not really, he said. But it delighted him no end whenever a Siskel-Ebert rave brought prominence and commercial success to a film. He described the first time that happened, after they had reviewed "My Dinner With Andre" on their show: "Here's the story that was stunning to us. Our show played at 8:30 in New York, I think, where the movie had opened. And apparently the decision had been made to close the show. The 10 o'clock performance was filled. The movie wound up running in the same Lincoln Center cinema for a year. At the end of the year, in honor of our contribution, we interviewed Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory on the stage of that theater. That was a fabulous thrill and the ultimate point of being a critic. And the sweet coincidence was it was two guys who talked for a living, doing a show."

The view from Jasper

 (February 23, 1999) ABC News "Nightline" has been doing a continuing series of broadcasts on the issue of race in America. "America in Black and White" has explored aspects of the racial divide in depth in a consistent manner and with a level of insight missing from most television journalism. When the verdict came in convicting a young white man of participating in the dragging death of a black man in the small town of Jasper, Texas, "Nightline" correspondent John Donvan had been in Jasper reporting on how the tragedy affected racial relations in the small Texas town. What Donvan found -- and reported Tuesday on "Nightline" -- was people reaching out to each other. White residents who thought their racial relations were good found that their black neighbors did not share the same view to say the least. What may surprise people is that the white people of Jasper looked at the situation and found that their black fellow citizens may have a point. The actions taken to bridge the gap range from the removal of an iron fence that separated races in a graveyard to a white sheriff going over and talking to a small black child in a way that he would not have done before the dragging death. The point of the story was that people of both races in Jasper are talking to each other in a way they had not before. An honest dialog is happening where there was silence. Although it took a tragedy to create this conversation, its goal is to prevent another such tragedy and create a true sense of community in the process.
-- Harrison Wyman

Off beat

"And the Beat Goes On:
The Sonny and Cher Story" (February 20, 1999) Instant biographies are like instant coffee: they fill the need for the moment, but good brews are rare. Monday's made-for-television movie on the career of Sonny and Cher, made in the wake of Sonny Bono's tragic death in a skiing accident last year, is a compressed version of Bono's life from hustling songs in Hollywood to the end of his marriage to Cher. It's a quickie film that would have benefited from the perspective of time. The two stars are well-defined. Renee Faia captures the look, speaking voice and attitude of Cher in a surprisingly accurate performance that avoids exaggerated impersonation. Jay Underwood's portrayal of Sonny shows the relentless hustle and ambition that enabled Bono to emerge from a small-time rock-and-roll songwriter to half of a show business act that went from the pop charts to Vegas to a top-rated variety show on CBS. The story ends with Sonny and Cher's reunion performance on David Letterman's NBC show. But sub-par supporting performances (like that of the actor who plays Letterman) undermine the lead actors. And the script fails to take full advantage of one aspect of Sonny Bono: a street-smart savvy that was hidden under the public image of an amiable goofball. It's this image we're most familiar with today, since he used it to his advantage in winning election to Congress. There is material for a first-rate film in the marriage and career of Sonny and Cher. It is unfortunate that a complex and fascinating story was told in a second-rate rush.
-- Harrison Wyman

ABC scores on Thursday

 (February 17, 1999) They can talk about what a ratings disappointment ABC's "Storm of the Century" was compared with the hype generated in advance of its airing this week. But no one can deny that Thursday's finale was a tremendous lift for the network. ABC multiplied its usual Thursday audience nearly threefold in the closing hour of "Storm," registering a stunning 20 share in the 10:30 half-hour. That didn't prevent "ER's" sendoff episode for George Clooney from scoring a season-high 38 share for NBC. For that matter, CBS programming didn't seem especially hard hit. What Thursday's overnight ratings demonstrate is that when the big three networks put something compelling on the air, even at this late date in history, people will ditch their cable and tune in. During the final half hour of prime last night, nearly 70 percent of American homes were watching just three networks.

Desperate measures

 The nutty thing is, this might actually work: ABC has been getting pounded on Thursday nights for years. Nothing -- not critically-lauded dramatic series, not first-rate Hollywood flicks, na da -- has been successful against NBC's murderer's row of sitcoms. (Thursday's finale of "Storm of the Century" being a notable exception.) So in a move that smacks of desperation, ABC is putting reruns of two highly rated comedies, "The Drew Carey Show" and "Spin City," up against "Frasier" and "Veronica's Closet." ("America's Funniest Home Videos" and an ABC News-produced hour will bookend the sitcoms.) It's hard to see how this will do anything for "Drew Carey," already one of the 15 most-watched shows in television and the undisputed champ of Wednesday nights. But "Spin City" could benefit. It has stiff competition on Tuesdays from "Just Shoot Me" and could use the added exposure. And while the Michael J. Fox vehicle has been disappointing -- it's possibly the largest comedy ensemble paid to stand around and watch one or two members perform -- few will argue that it's miles better than "Veronica's Closet," which if it were on any other night would be in deep Nielsen doo-doo. The schedule shuffle takes effect March 4, one day after the winter ratings "sweep" ends. The first "Drew" repeat will be last season's memorable take on "The Full Monty." In the first "Spin" repeat, Carter (Michael Boatman) is misstaken for a mugger while jogging in Central Park.(Photo credit: Timothy White/ABC)

That really frosts my ...

 (February 17, 1999) Tom Heald writes, "So it's 28 degress out with 35-40 mph winds outside and what do I see crawling across the bottom of my screen 20 minutes into 'Dharma and Greg'? ABC STORM ALERT. STEPHEN KING'S STORM OF THE CENTURY IS COMING THIS SUNDAY. PLEASE NOTIFY ALL FRIENDS FAMILY AND NEIGHBORS TO GLUE THEMSELVES TO A TV 9/8 CENTRAL ON ABC... Cute." Tom was the first to write, but not the last. Annoyed readers began passing along their own "War of the Worlds" moments from other ABC shows, as the network relentlessly plugged "Storm of the Century," the three-parter that begins Sunday, continues Monday and concludes next Thursday. But there's more: Next week, most of the ABC sitcoms appearing on Tuesday and Wednesday will take place in winter storms. Why the network feels compelled to plug a miniseries that's two-thirds over, and unlikely to pull any new viewers away from NBC or Fox on Thursdays, is anybody's guess. But ABC executives felt so seriously about the need to cross-promote that when "SportsNight," the hit Tuesday-night comedy, chose not to do a winter-storm episode, ABC bumped it -- in the middle of sweeps no less -- for a "Dharma & Greg" repeat. And still more. Henry Nunes writes, "ABC tried to run the crawl AGAIN during 'Drew Carey.' KGO inserted this obnoxious blue station ID bar across the bottom of the screen, blocking out any 'urgent' alert messages ABC may have tried to send. KGO doing the right thing? Blocking out an obsequious notification on the basis of integrity? And they're Disney O&O? This is tasty..."

King of the Hill

(February 15, 1999) Sunday night on "60 Minutes," Mike Wallace fired the opening salvo in what is bound to be an all-out war by the nation's mayors against the gun industry. Their weapon: Litigation. Last week, a jury for the first time ruled against gun makers for the harm caused by guns they sold through gun shops to street gangs -- transactions, the plaintiffs said, that were done with the industry's full knowledge. The strategy of suing to accomplish what one is powerless to do in the legislature is not novel, of course; in recent years lawsuits brought by the attorneys-general across the country brought Big Tobacco to its knees. In fairness, however, it's been years since anyone said the nation's tobacco companies were at their peak of lobbying influence on Capitol Hill. Now the same uppance is said to be coming to the National Rifle Association, the lobby once thought to have wielded more clout with lawmakers than any other. So which lobbying force has the most power on the Hill? Ironically, many now say it's the industry in which Mike Wallace works: broadcasting. While cigarette makers and gun manufacturers face a public increasingly intolerant of their agendas, no one, it seems, has anything bad to say about the nation's broadcasters and their shameless agenda to become even more powerful. Yet in city after city, they have turned what used to be a community-oriented business into a faceless enterprise that often regards local viewers with contempt and is more interested in pleasing Wall Street than Main Street. Assisting the broadcasters in their efforts are the two Senators most actively involved in shaping communications law: John McCain of Arizona and Conrad Burns of Montana. I would've thought Sen. Burns, at least, would know better. As a boy I grew up watching him deliver the Farm-Ag report on the Montana Television Network at 7:25 a.m. every morning, during the station break on the "Today" show. MTN was an unusual cooperative that allowed five stations around the state, all of them in tiny markets, to share a single newsgathering source. (Billings, my hometown, was the largest market and it was at around No. 170. Helena, with just 15,000 TV households, was one of the nation's smallest markets.) Ed Coughlin anchored the statewide newscast, then a hometown anchor jumped in at the quarter-hour with the really local news. Broadcasting was very good to Conrad Burns. A few years ago, he ran for his first political office, Yellowstone County commissioner, and won easily. The next year he decided to go all the way and run for U.S. Senate. What the heck. John Melcher, the incumbent Democrat, was considered unbeatable. Burns was willing to be the GOP's sacrifice. But then somebody took a poll and determined that Burns, upon joining the race, had near-total name recognition throughout the state -- something a Republican usually had to spend months building up. TV had made Burns famous, and it made him a contender. Fed-up Montanans did the rest. Although MTN has modified somewhat since then, it's still in business serving its member stations with local newscasts. It's a stark contrast to stations in other, larger markets, where the creeping influence of distantly-controlled ownership groups can be more easily seen. News is less local. There's more packaged stuff pulled off the satellite and overdubbed with some local reporter's voice. It might as well be the voice of the guy who does the station ID's. Reporters hate this excuse for journalism; viewers aren't too thrilled with it either. But when the station owner is out of town and out of touch -- except, of course, when monitoring the sales figures -- who cares? Well, I care. And that's why it annoys me to see Sen. McCain, no doubt with the full support of Burns, pushing to make it possible for a single entity to own TV stations reaching 50 percent of the country. The current maximum is 35 percent. This is supposedly being done in the name of "competitiveness," but I'm not buying it. The average TV station used to report profit margins near 50 percent of revenues. Now that number is down to 31 percent. In response, managers -- usually at the national level -- are slashing like crazy. Mel Karmazin reported last week that the stations owned by the CBS network squeezed out stellar 40 percent profit margins. But he did it by carrying on a tradition started by his predecessor Larry Tisch: cutting, cutting, cutting costs. It probably won't be enough, not with audience levels continuing to decline for the big network affiliates. So CBS, as well as all of the other networks and the big station groups, want that 35 percent ceiling raised so they can acquire more stations, consolidate more operations, cut more costs and pay higher dividends to their stockholders. In testimony before the Federal Communications Commission on Friday, Big Broadcast made its case. A lawyer for one of the largest station-group owners said, "While new video outlets on cable, satellite, Internet and telcos are exploding onto the competitive horizon, TV stations have to exist under a regime of scarcity-based ownership regulation." What'll be scarce, if the broadcasters have their way, are resources for local news operations. Already news directors are being forced to fill time with national content, or rip 'n' read headlines because there aren't enough reporters to tell all of the good stories around town. Everyone's doing health news, using tape acquired from out of market. And yet station managers are being told to do MORE news -- spreading an already-thin newsroom staff to the point of transparency -- because news is a "profit center." If the FCC has its way, the 35 percent cap will hold. But wait. Sens. McCain and Burns have been sending letters to the FCC, threatening to take away its powers if it continues to fiddle with what the senators call the commission's "Congressional mandate." In other words, the senators are saying: We set the rules, dear commissioners, not you. And who has a direct line to Sens. McCain and Burns? The National Association of Broadcasters, considered by many to be the most powerful lobby in Washington. Officially, the NAB is against raising the cap (probably in response to the smaller stations who make up much of its membership). But with some of the big-ass station groups threatening to leave the NAB if it doesn't change its position, don't assume that's set in stone. Big Broadcast may still form a unified front for raising the limit to 50 percent. And if that happens -- well, as Bill Kurtis once famously told the citizens of Topeka during a tornado, "For God's sake, take cover!" This story promises to get more interesting as the 106th Congress gets back to the business of passing laws instead of articles of impeachment. Stay tuned.

Unrequited love: The demise of "Cupid"

(February 12, 1999) "Cupid," the latest noble failure unlucky enough to have been green-lighted by ABC, aired its last episode Thursday. The last two, "Nothing Sacred" and "Cracker," were scheduled on Thursday nights, got the crap beat out of them by NBC sitcoms, were shuffled off to Saturdays and died. "Cupid," meanwhile, started on Saturdays, then got the crap beat out of it on Thursdays. See how that works? Last summer, the creator of "Cupid," Rob Thomas, had told me it was his quiet wish that, after the inevitable beating his show would take in the fall on Saturdays, ABC would move it to Mondays once football season was over. Sorry -- Mondays went to movies and the inexpensive fourth night of "20/20." If ABC really wants to keep their costs down, they could always turn their entertainment division over to ESPN and news... But not all hope is lost. A spokesman for the WB told me last week that the network had asked for tapes of "Cupid" to get acquainted with Jeremy Piven's and Paula Marshall's (pictured) quick-witted chemistry. What WB would really like to do is put some episodes of the show on this spring or summer. But that seems unlikely; why would ABC want to lose any more face seeing a show they'd dumped become a hit in the same season? Failing that, "Cupid" may still have a chance to make WB's fall schedule, when the network begins a sixth night of programming. By the way, for those of you who always felt the "Cracker" shown on A&E was far superior to the one on ABC, well, now you're both right. A&E announced Wednesday it's picking up the Robert Torricelli "Cracker" to add to its stock of the British original. (Photo Credit: Dan Zaitz/ABC)

Precious moments

(February 9, 1999) We're glad the twins are safe, but did Monday's delivery episode of "7th Heaven" have to end with a singing of the "Mary Tyler Moore" theme song? Ostensibly it is a "Camden family tradition" to sing to Mom right after she's given birth, but what was the deal with the TV meta-reference? Isn't this a minister's family? Couldn't Dad have thought of one hymn that might better the occasion? A show tune? Something? If the writers who cranked out this extra-sappy episode were bent on using a TV tune, they could've at least tried the "Sanford & Son" theme, "Hang in There, Baby." Those of you watching "MAD TV" on Saturday may have wondered about that brief but violent appearance by Bret "Hitman" Hart. It all got resolved Monday night on basic cable, as reader Oliver Willis explains: "Will Sasso from 'Mad TV' made an appearance on TNT's 'Monday Nitro' wrestling show, continuing his 'feud' with Bret 'Hitman' Hart. Sasso heckled Hart during his match, and jumped over the guardrail to get in a tussle with the Hitman. Sasso then interfered in the match (in a weird referee tug of war incident), causing Bret Hart to lose the U.S. Championship title."

Multiple "Fractured Fairy Tales"

Jay Ward, the undisputed master of early TV cartoons, gave us Crusader Rabbit, Rocky the Squirrel and George of the Jungle. But some would say his greatest achievement was a long-running series of animated shorts that had no easily identifiable cartoon stars and were usually written above the heads of their supposedly intended audience. Now 25 of those minor classics have been assembled in paperback form as "Fractured Fairy Tales" (Bantam, $9.95 retail but cheaper at amazon.com). These perverse satires on the Grimm Brothers' children tales feature such never-to-be-beloved stories as "The Enchanted Gnat," "Thom Tum" and "Son of King Midas." Although they aired nearly 40 years ago -- during "Rocky and His Friends" -- many of them still hold up today. Kuwait till you read this opening from "The Flying Carpet": "A very long time ago in a far-off land there lived a very rich and powerful sultan. And each year he became richer and more powerful, for it was the custom of the people -- a custom, incidentally, that the sultan came up with -- to bring him expensive gifts on his birthday. He had two birthdays every year. That was also the sultan's idea." I chatted recently with the book's compiler, A.J. Jacobs, the Entertainment Weekly writer who in 1996 tossed off the funnier-than-heck America Off-Line: The Complete Outernet Starter Kit, about "Fractured Fairy Tales": "This one actually was inspired by the publisher who called me and asked me to do it. The editor was I think Irwyn Applebaum at Bantam. I'm guessing he's a baby boomer. They did a big Rocky and Bullwinkle book three years ago, and this is a spinoff. They couldn't get enough 'Fractured Fairy Tales' in there so they tossed me a bone. "Apparently it's very hard to get permission from the Jay Ward estate; they were right there at every step. But when they did finally approve it, they sent over a whole bunch of scripts. It was interesting to look them over and see Jay's comments written in the margins. He was pretty hands-on. "I wanted to go out there to the Ward mansion (in southern California) because my friends said it was pretty wild. They have these huge portraits of Rocky and Bullwinkle in these fancy frames, like they were George Washington."

Articles for the week of March 1, 1999


Monica mows 'em down

(March 5, 1999) Despite all of the pre-show publicity -- the promos, the excerpts, and an orchestrated campaign of leaks to the media worthy of the Clinton White House -- I was reluctant to believe that post-impeachment America would gather around their TV sets in large numbers to watch as this final chapter in the Monica Lewinsky saga was played out in a two-hour Barbara Walters interview. The first hint I had that I might be wrong came as we were driving home last night at around 8:30, one half hour after the interview had begun. We live in a restaurant district in Kansas City, and Wednesdays are typically good nights for the local merchants. The streets were noticeably quieter last night, and when the Nielsen ratings for 43 metered markets, including ours, arrived here Friday morning, I knew why. Wednesday's "20/20" blew away all the skeptics who predicted the broadcast would have trouble drawing even a 30 share from a viewing public that's burned out by the scandal. At its peak, nearly half of the households using television were watching ABC. The interview started with a 44 share and built to a 49 share in the final segment. The ripple effect was felt well into late-night, as Ted Koppel's extended "Nightline" -- a superb fast-forward through the last 14 months of the scandal -- drew more viewers than Letterman and Leno combined, and "Politically Incorrect" nearly doubled its average. In hindsight, most of the public had turned off this scandal long ago. So tuning in for the final act seemed fitting, not unlike Gracie Allen starting a book by skipping to the end. Many of us sensed, as we have in our half-century-long relationship with the tube, that this was a national event, something not to be missed, something to say you saw last night, something NBC's West Coast chief Don Ohlmeyer, who apparently doesn't go to church, likes to call "a communal experience." Thursday morning I was asked on a local radio show if last night had been "good for TV or bad for TV." I said that it was TV, that good or bad, the Lewinsky interview was a quintessential mass-media event, the kind of event we used to have all the time, whether it was watching Ed Sullivan or singing along with Mitch or listening to a story 'bout a man named Jed. ALSO: Monica manufactures an aura

How sweep it is

(March 5, 1999) So which of the big six broadcast networks won the February ratings sweep (Feb. 5 through March 3)? If you believe everything you read in PR, they all did!


Top This

(March 5, 1999) In its post-Monica Lewinsky interview broadcast Wednesday, "Nightline" summarized the entire 14-month episode from beginning until tonight (I'm reluctant to say "end") with one of the most brilliant uses of videotape and editing I've seen in a news program in a long time. "Nightline" used a video chronology that began with the first reports last January and proceeded on to the last word of Barbra Walters' interview with Lewinsky Wednesday night. One of the highlights was seeing Lewinsky's first lawyer, William Ginsburg, losing his temper with a group of reporters who were following him. He finished his rant by threatening not to give interviews. The next shot was a 16-panel split screen showing Ginsburg on every talk show in operation, a sort of one-man "Hollywood Squares." I didn't think that could be topped until that night's "Late Late Show," when ad creator and humorist Stan Freberg told Tom Snyder about being censored by CBS in the 1960s over a joke involving an American Indian. Freberg had filmed an ad for Jeno's Pizza Rolls that parodied another ad for Lark cigarettes. Like the original Lark ad, the Jeno's ad used the "William Tell Overture," popular then as the theme to the "Lone Ranger." At the end of the commercial a man emerges with a pack of cigarettes in his hand and says, "I'd like to speak to you about the use of that music." He is then tapped on the shoulder by Clayton Moore, TV's "Lone Ranger," who says, "So would I." Jay Silverheels, who played Tonto on the series, then appears and asks, "Have a Pizza Roll, Kemosabe?" Before the ad runs on CBS, Freberg gets a call from a woman in Standards and Practices insisting that Silverheels submit a letter agreeing that he is portraying an American Indian in a negative stereotype. If he refuses, the ad won't run. Keep in mind this is about 1965, not 1999. Freberg tells the woman, "But he's Tonto! He's a real Indian!", to no avail. Finally Freberg gives up, calls Silverheels and tells him the situation. Silverheels screams the same thing at Freberg: "But I'm Tonto! I'm a real Indian!" Finally he agrees to write the letter. But he asks Freberg to do him a favor: "Would you tell that woman to stop screwing around with my residuals?" I didn't think that one could be topped until "World News Now" showed some recent video of singer Gloria Gaynor singing her disco classic "I Will Survive" at a Democratic fundraiser in New Jersey -- with Bill Clinton in attendance. --Harrison Wyman

Washington Wreck in Review

Washington Week in Review
 Fridays, 8 p.m.
PBS
A group of reporters and columnists from America's major newspapers and networks summarize the events of the week based on what they know, not what they think. This is the simple idea behind "Washington Week in Review," a 32-year mainstay of public television. It may have been dull to some viewers, but no wonder ever said it wasn't stable. Until last week, that is, when all hell broke loose after Ken Bode, the host of "WWIR," was fired by WETA, the Washington, D.C., PBS affiliate that produces the show. Unlike the commercial networks, individual PBS stations produce programs for national distribution. And individual station executives can change long-running national shows. Dalton Delan is WETA's new head of programming; his previous television experience was in cable, with The Sundance Channel and The Travel Channel. Delan's assignment: Review WETA's national programming and make it more competitive. According to reports in the Washington Post, Delan wanted to replace Bode as moderator with Gwen Ifill, Capitol Hill correspondent for NBC News and "WWIR" regular. Ifill turned down the moderator's chair, citing her full workload at NBC. Bode told the Washington Post that Delan wanted a broadcast with "edge", "attitude" and ideological "opinion," adding high school and college journalists, a "man on the street" segment and surprise guests. "WWIR" is a broadcast where change is made reluctantly. In five years as moderator in 1994, Bode and producer Elizabeth Piersol introduced videotape clips as a reference point for discussions, and beamed in reporters on the scene of news events via satellite. And that was considered revolutionary. To "WWIR" veterans, Delan's ideas sounded like complete abandonment of the old format. With Bode gone, Piersol was called into a meeting with Delan and WETA president Sharon Rockefeller and fired. WETA board member Roger Wilkens resigned in protest of Bode's firing, describing the station's actions as "deceptive." Delan denies proposing radical change in "WWIR," adding that any changes would not alter the nature or tradition of the broadcast. Bode, a former veteran of NBC and CNN, is currently the dean of the Medill Journalism School at Northwestern University. When he agreed to his dismissal, he signed a contract to continue with the broadcast for a four-month transition period. But when Bode arrived from Chicago on February 26 he was told not to moderate that night's program. That evening WETA president Rockefeller opened the broadcast asking the public to judge "WWIR" by what was on the air and not by print media reports. New York Daily News columnist Steven Roberts, a longtime "WWIR" panelist, hosted last Friday's program. At its end, Roberts thanked Bode for his service and contributions to the broadcast. Roberts also announced the return of Paul Duke, host of "WWIR" for 20 years. Bode succeeded Duke after his retirement. Last week's events put a program cited by PBS's own audience research as having credibility second only to "The News Hour with Jim Lehrer" in an unstable state with many regular panelists questioning their future participation on "WWIR" WETA's Rockefeller summed up the turbulent week by saying, "For people in the communications business, we didn't communicate too well." --Harrison Wyman

Memo to the New York Post:

(March 4, 1999) First of all, let me just say thanks for reading. How do I know you're reading? Well, for one thing your editorial page editor John Podhoretz sent me mail recently saying, "Your new site is just terrific." For another thing -- you lifted a story straight off this page and didn't acknowledge your source! Don't tell me a little birdie just dropped in your ear that story you ran Wednesday, "DAVE TO NIX SCALPERS WITH 'PIX FOR TIX.'" Of course not: you read it here first. In the past, when I was still doing LATE SHOW NEWS (and, I might add, citing the Post whenever I used one of your items), that other New York tab wasn't afraid to cite an "online newsletter" as its source. Neither should you. C'mon, guys -- give TV Barn its props. You know you would if Matt Drudge were involved. Your pal,
Aaron Manufacturing an aura (March 4, 1999) With her hair pulled back in a chaste fashion, eyes moist and transfixed on her interrogator, Monica S. Lewinsky wowed the nation last night on ABC in what could be considered the quintessential sweeps event: a blockbuster performance hyped to holy hell and calculated to stretch viewers' attention spans to their legal limits. Just the night before we'd had another one of these: Fox's "Live From Egypt," an archaeological dig that was about as spontaneous as that live episode of "ER." Similarly, the Barbara Walters interview of Lewinsky on Wednesday's "20/20" successfully manufactured an aura for itself (revelation and truth-telling) that disguised the fact it was little more than an exercise in television. Oh, sure, the interview broke some news. But Lewinsky had already spilled her guts to biographer Andrew Morton, and his book Monica's Story was already being unpacked from cartons last night. Perhaps more annoying than the hype preceding the interview was the fact that the program itself went on for two hours when it was clear Lewinsky only had about an hour's worth of material. The reason? No one starts a Big Event at half past the hour. Thus the special was extended for another three acts with endless teases that actually made "The E! True Hollywood Story" look like a model of restraint. But when Lewinsky finished her sympathetic interview with the words she planned to tell her children if asked about her affair with the president -- "Mommy made a big mistake" -- it brought the February sweep to a close, and not a moment too soon. (Photo credit: CNN) ALSO: Monica mania on ABC

"Lansky": Mobster as bureaucrat

"Lansky"
HBO, premiered Feb. 27
(repeats Mar 2, Mar 7, Mar 10, Mar 16, Mar 22, Mar 25, among other dates; check listings for times) If true success is living to a ripe old age and never spending a day in jail, Meyer Lansky was the most successful gangster of his generation. There are more colorful stories in the annals of organized crime but the stories usually ended in bullets and blood. Lansky survived because he literally organized crime: from bootlegging to gambling, Lansky wielded power almost invisibly, arranging for the violence that kept order and secured for himself the power and influence that only money can buy. Focusing a story on him is a bit like telling the story of a company's chief financial officer and not its founder. But HBO's "Lansky" does it with solid storytelling and a first-rate cast. Richard Dreyfuss is not the first name that springs to mind for the lead in a film about the mob, but he is inspired casting in the title role, combining brains and subtle menace. Writer David Mamet's ("Wag the Dog," "The Untouchables") typically profane script tells a story of a life that started on the lam and almost ended there. It begins, as so many HBO movies do, with the elderly Lansky waiting in Jerusalem either to be awarded Israeli citizenship or a ticket back to America for possible imprisonment. The story then reviews Lansky's childhood as he flees Russian persecution and becomes a young street tough on New York's Lower East Side at the turn of the century, becoming friends with with Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel and earning the respect of a teenage Charlie "Lucky" Luciano. Dreyfuss is surrounded by actors who give solid, realistic performances. A key performance is turned in by Eric Roberts, who plays the adult Bugsy. Siegel spends a fortune on building the Flamingo hotel in Las Vegas in the late 1940's while girlfriend Virginia Hill (Peggy Jo Jacobs) keeps making unexplained trips to Switzerland. Siegel's freespending ways have lost the support of the "commission" that runs organized crime, including the exiled Luciano (Anthony LaPaglia). In the end even Lansky cannot save his childhood comrade from his own excesses. You could make an argument that parts of this story have been better told in other movies. A case could even be made that the best portrayal of Meyer Lansky was Lee Strasberg's fictional Hyman Roth in "The Godfather: Part II." But "Lansky" tells this crime story on its own terms, a new take on the dark side of the American Dream. Even though Dreyfuss's character says he "wouldn't change a thing," the success of a man of Lansky's drive, brains and will--had he gone legit--might have been staggering. The saddest words in American film apply to Meyer Lansky as well: He could have been a contender.
-- Harrison Wyman

Monica mania

 Walters/Sawyer Diane Sawyer and her special guest host on Wednesday's "20/20," Barbara Walters. (Photo: Michael O'Neill/ABC News) (March 3, 1999) If you think tonight's "20/20" encounter between Barbara Walters and Monica Lewinsky is the last word in presidential hanky-panky, think again: Lewinsky's tell-all book, written by Diana biographer Andrew Morton, is being published Thursday. (Hey, and it's just 15 bucks at amazon.com, he shilled!) That's not to say anyone seriously questions the timing of this event, which begins at 9 p.m. Wednesday. After all, it is the last night of the February ratings sweep. But some are questioning whether the two-hour broadcast will attract even 30 percent of the viewing audience. To give you some idea of what that means, an episode of "ER" topped a 30 share in February -- twice. And as I report in Wednesday's Kansas City Star, even the electronic media have had it with this story, which can't bode well for Walters & Company. (Here's my story.) Take NBC, for example. The network that aired a softball "Dateline" interview last week with another reluctant presidential accuser, Juanita Broaddrick, is having second thoughts. According to the industry faxsheet TV Business Confidential, NBC News has issued an order restricting the use of the interview footage by NBC outlets. That includes MSNBC and CNBC, which reportedly will have to get the OK from legal counsel every time they want to use clips from the interview. You'll understand why when you read Eric Mink's devastating review of the Broaddrick interview that aired last week on "Dateline." There was also an op-ed in the Washington Post praising NBC's handling of the Broaddrick interview but noting that a media circus hovered over the network as it tried to do the right thing. ALSO: Are you planning YOUR Lewinsky TV party?

They're baaaaaaack!

(March 3, 1999) No, I'm not referring to Barbara Walters and Miss Thongsnapper. I'm referring to this: On Wednesday night Fresh Step is doing the Letterman show again! If that isn't reason enough to stay up late, what is? Fresh Step (pictured), LATE SHOW NEWS readers will recall, is a fake, a fraud, a swindle. It's a Backstreet Boys parody group named for a brand of kitty litter. Only, the American public has never been told the truth about them. Fresh Step was introduced last month on "Late Show with David Letterman" -- with a straight face -- by the host, who held up the group's nonexistent CD, and then on they came, lip-synching a song that went like this:
"F is for the fresh cuz that's what we are
R is for reality, we're living large
E is for emotion cuz we know how to feel
S is for the street cuz we're keepin' it real
H is for my homies cuz we got a bad rep
But ya gotta be fresh 2 fresh with da Fresh Step."
Bewildered fans wrote in. It wasn't even GOOD lip-synching ... That guy with the dredlocks -- that had to be a wig, right? A few days later, I exposed the sham in this issue of LATE SHOW NEWS. And then my moles started to check in. Ann Miner of Talkin' Broadway wrote: "Three of the 'members' of Fresh Step are Broadway performers from Footloose (Jeremy Kushnier, Jamie Gustis, and Brad Madison) and supposedly have signed a contract with Letterman for future appearances." Those future appearances begin Wednesday. Tune in -- it's bound to be delightfully appalling. (Fresh Step lyrics courtesy the "Late Show's" Wahoo Gazette

Concerto for Carmody

 March 2, 1999--The Style section of The Washington Post carried TV listings and articles from its inception in the late 1960s. What it didn't have until 1977 was a steady writer of television--not reviews, but reporting on the business of television on a daily basis, particularly local television. "The TV Column" was not unique: you could find the same set of facts in say, the New York Daily News. But it was Carmody's writing style that made it unique. Carmody wrote with two sets of readers in mind: industry insiders and the other 750,000-plus readers of The Post who would check the daily grid of TV listings and noticed the column to its left (now opposite page) every day. Not to say that he was perfect: If you were under 35 you wanted to turn "Captain Airwaves" cape over his head and whack him when he dismissed or outright insulted a performer that spoke to younger audiences. Carmody was in his mid-50's when "The TV Column" started and the generation gap between Carmody and his younger readers just got wider as the years passed. But that does not minimize what Carmody did in explaining the inner workings of television to a wider audience. Carmody was to television what Post sports columnist Andrew Beyer is to horse racing. He could take a subject that most people normally would not read about and not only make it readable but make the reader understand why it was important: the primary function of journalism. The highest compliment you can pay a feature in the paper is that you missed it when it wasn't there. "The TV Column" would go missing for what seemed long periods in 1998. And when Lisa de Moraes byline suddenly appeared this past summer it was an abrupt surprise. Carmody was doing battle with cancer, a fight he never wrote about and his readers never knew about until his death was reported on one of the local TV newscasts he always wrote about. Dan Rather noted his passing on Monday's "CBS Evening News," reflecting the influence Carmody's writing about television had beyond the Post's Washington area circulation. Part news analysis, part industry tip sheet and part local TV review, Carmody made me laugh and sometimes irked the hell out of me but I always read him. I can't thank him directly now, but I can be thankful that he was here to write about television for the most important people in broadcasting: its viewers. --Harrison Wyman
(with thanks and apologies to Duke Ellington)

Live! From! The! Tombs! Of! Egypt!

(March 2, 1999) Grab an air sickness bag -- it's gonna be a bumpy ride for the next two nights as the February sweep approaches the final runway. First up is "Opening the Lost Tombs: Live From Egypt," airing tonight on Fox, and judging from the unintentionally hilarious press kit, the live excavation of an Egyptian queen's tomb may (or may not) help us better understand (or not) whether the Egyptians got some help building them pyramids. "And if so, from whom? Alien visitors from another world? Descendants of the lost civilization of Atlantis?" Arthur Kent hosts.

That's the ticket

March 1, 1999--Getting into David Letterman's late-night TV show has never been easy. But since he took his act from NBC to CBS, demand for tickets has gotten just plain ridiculous -- which is a bit of a paradox since Letterman is taping 20 percent more shows than he used to (he does five shows a week; at NBC he did four) and the Ed Sullivan Theatre holds more than twice as many people as NBC's Studio 6A. The procedure used to be that you'd mail in a postcard request, wait a few weeks or months, then with luck you'd receive two tickets. If after six months you were still waiting, why that was your cue to put pen to postcard and try all over again. With this routine, the waiting list for tickets was held comfortably at six months for the first few seasons at CBS. But recently, I received a letter from one of my longtime readers, a regular attendee of "Late Show" tapings who lives in New Jersey. "The ticketing at David Letterman has significantly changed over the past several months, and I am not sure what they are doing," he writes. "Now you get a postcard, asking you to call up to reserve your seats. When you call up, you can basically schedule for any time in the next month or so, although whatever you say on the phone is final (it seems they have this all computerized and coded). They also go through a marketing survey, where they ask four questions: your age and gender, how often you watch the show, why you want to be in the studio audience, and a David Letterman trivia question, presumably to test the knowledge of the respondent. (The two questions I got in the past couple of months were, 'What is Paul Shaffer's nationality?' and 'What is the color of the announcer's hair?') This seemingly is a more useful system that allows would-be guest to schedule more conveniently, but I have to assume it means a lot more work for the folks at the 'Late Show.' I can only assume the information on guests is pertinent enough. "The oddest thing is that recently, for one visit, I got a call from the 'Late Show' (for the frankly mediocre show with Val Kilmer and Billy Bragg), saying they had a large number of male cancellations, and since I was going with a male friend, I could invite up to ten more male folks with me. I was a bit suspicious, thinking that Dave was trying to pack the audience with testosterone for some prank (he wasn't). However, arranging to bring four more friends did require several back-and-forth phone calls with friendly 'Late Show' staff, and I wondered: Is the gender balance of the laugh track worth the staff time to arrange all this?" Good question. I put it recently to "Late Show" executive producer Rob Burnett, who said the changes in ticketing policy were driven by the growing conviction among his ticket staff that the old procedure had become "inefficient and not very fan-friendly." There were times when, under the crush of demand, ticket requests were being fulfilled up to two years after they were made. "We thought that was kind of silly," said Burnett. "So now what we've done -- at some expense to us, I must say -- is we have set up a sort of reservation system." Under the new system, everyone who requests a ticket gets one. But the viewer must then call into the ticket office to reserve an actual taping date. In theory, this extends the queue even farther into the distance, because no one's request is ignored. In practice, it shifts the burden for fulfilling the request back to the viewer, who doesn't always follow through. And it means that viewers with flexible schedules can attend a taping within days of making a reservation if they are willing to go on a night when the demand for tickets was low. They may even get an unsolicited call from the ticket office asking them to bring friends, as happened to my reader prior to the Val Kilmer taping. P.S. My mole also reports that ticket-holders are having their photo ID's checked, probably because there have been reports of people scalping the free "Late Show" tickets. And you'd still better show up early because Letterman staff continue to dispense more tickets than there are seats in the Ed Sullivan -- after all, scarce or not the tickets are free and to a certain portion of the population, that means attendance is optional.

Comedy Central: A seventh-year stitch

(This piece originally appeared in Broadcasting & Cable magazine in May, 1998.) By Aaron Barnhart It was probably fitting that the act supplying the entertainment for Comedy Central's seventh-anniversary bash in Manhattan last month should be R&B legend Isaac Hayes and his band. Hayes suddenly is back in demand, with a long list of engagements lined up. And he has Comedy Central's animated juggernaut "South Park" -- for which he supplies the voice of the school's cook and resident sex machine -- to thank. It's not clear how long Hayes will be able to ride this new wave of popularity, but at least he's hit the big time before. But all this is very new for Comedy, for years a well-kept secret among cable viewers and, as the network's own executives admit, one of basic cable's most puzzling underperformers. "I think everybody felt that a comedy network was a great idea, but someone had to figure out how to execute it," said Doug Herzog, the former MTV executive who has been running Comedy since 1995. "We always felt we were the last of the big basic (cable) ideas, and I think 1998 is the year we begin to fulfill that promise." Thanks to the surprising success of "South Park," viewers are clamoring for the network like never before -- and operators are listening. After struggling to push through the 40 million subscriber level two years ago -- a process Herzog jokes was so enjoyable "we did it a couple more times" -- Comedy is now positioned to blow through the 50 million mark and possibly 55 million by year's end. "We're feeling great, feeling very fortunate," said Herzog. "This has meant a great deal to our business overall. Now we're trying to harness all our momentum and get to the next level." That "next level" is the promised land, the 60-million subscriber club that would establish Comedy as one of the top basic cable networks and end years of speculation about its not-so-amusing status as an underachiever. And as Herzog is careful to point out, whether Comedy gets to breathe that rarified air doesn't entirely depend on how far they can ride "South Park's" snowball. "`South Park' is clearly helping, but as I like to tell people, if you were to ask me how we were doing the day before `South Park' went on the air, I'd say pretty good," Herzog said. Since arriving at Comedy, Herzog has used good strategy and good luck to his advantage. One of the first things he had to do was find a new flagship show after Bill Maher informed Herzog that he was taking his show, "Politically Incorrect," to ABC. "In my mind I had an idea almost immediately of what I wanted to do," Herzog said. "A show that was morning radio meets 'The Today Show' meets `Weekend Update,' a news-oriented show. And Craig Kilborn, believe it or not, was my idea of what the host should be. I didn't even know his name. There was just this funny guy on ESPN who served as kind of a model host." Kilborn happened to be exiting ESPN about that time and had told his agent he wanted to work in comedy, not sports. Herzog paired Kilborn with Madeleine Smithberg, the Letterman show veteran who produced Jon Stewart's talk show, and comedian Lizz Winstead. "The Daily Show" was born. "It all worked out for the best for everyone," Herzog said. "Maher is a success on the network, and it allows me to say to someone like Craig, 'You can be the next Bill Maher.' " First, however, Herzog had to convince Comedy Partners, the 50-50 joint venture formed when Time Warner and Viacom merged their money-losing funny channels in 1991, to let him spend more money on developing original programming. At the time, Comedy had exactly three originals in its stable: two were cult shows ("Mystery Science Theater 3000" and "Dr. Katz") and the third was Maher's. "It wasn't a giant investment -- we're still talking basic cable -- but when I got here, we were supposed to turn a profit in 1996," said Herzog. "I said to the partners, 'We can either take a profit or we can build up the asset value.'" The partners readily agreed to Herzog's plan, and the result has been a series of well-received series, including two other daily shows, "Win Ben Stein's Money" and "Make Me Laugh," and "Viva Variety," a retro-pop weekly featuring members of The State, a comedy ensemble featured on MTV during Herzog's years there. But no amount of spending could've produced the lightning strike that occurred when Comedy's head of development in Los Angeles, Debby Liebling, came upon a short, crudely Claymated cartoon pitting Jesus versus Santa. The cartoon's creators, a couple of twenty-somethings from Colorado named Matt Stone and Trey Parker, were approached by several networks. But Herzog said he was the only one to offer the duo their own show and the amount of creative freedom for which "South Park" has since become famous (or notorious, depending on your point of view). "We understand other networks were interested in it," said Herzog, "We were lucky enough to get it. But find me another network that would've aired this show." Not even MTV? "I'm not sure they would've," Herzog said. "Matt and Trey quite frankly were not highly sought after at the time `South Park' was sold. They were young guys with an outrageous idea that the networks were not going to touch in a million years." The broadcast networks might be having second thoughts now that 6 million young viewers are ditching them for Comedy on Wednesday nights. "South Park's" audience has been growing from week one and the show sets new records for basic cable practically with each new episode. Even an April Fool's Day prank that flopped -- the episode did not reveal the identity of Cartman's father as had been promised, resulting in thousands of angry e-mails sent to Comedy -- failed to put a stop to the show's surging popularity. "South Park's" made it an ideal time for Herzog to finally create Comedy's own in-house affiliate sales force after 6 1//2 years of relying on MTV Networks, a subsidiary of co-owner Viacom. "MTV did a fabulous job for us for many, many years and really got the network on its feet," said Herzog. "But it was always part of the plan that at some point Comedy Central would have its own independent sales force. So the timing seemed right on a lot of levels to do it in 1998. "What no one counted on was the good fortune with `South Park' and what a boon that has been to our sales effort." The show has been an 800-pound gorilla in recent deals, most notably picking up TCI systems that punted it in 1996, when MSO's cash shortage led it to bump Comedy for networks willing to pay for carriage. In other markets like Madison, Wisc., where college students have groused for years about not being able to get Comedy, "South Park" created the critical mass needed to win over the local operator. That is a big turnaround from last year, when MTV and VH1 -- but not Comedy -- were restored to several TCI systems after fans of the networks complained. Comedy added 1.5 million TCI subscribers recently, including sales announced Apr. 24 in San Jose and Pittsburgh. Brad Samuels, who heads up Comedy's affiliate sales, said his sales force encourages operators to conduct subscriber surveys because Comedy invariably winds up at the top of customers' wish lists. In an era of direct-satellite TV, surveys get results. "Systems have become more responsive to what their customers want that they're not carrying," said Samuels. "They're listening more to what their CSRs are hearing over the phone. That's the way it should be." Samuels also insists it's not just about one show. "When we sit down to meet with operators, the interest in `The Daily Show' and `Win Ben Stein's Money' and some of specials and even `Viva Variety' has risen in the eyes of decision makers," he said. "As soon as I start talking about `South Park' I'm finding they're finishing my sentences, saying, `I've been watching "The Daily Show" too,' and starting conversations about other shows on the network." Samuels also touts the benefits of Comedy for local ad sales. "Many local operators are inserting local ads immediately after the switch," whereas previously they might wait several months before attempting to insert ads on Comedy. "We've got shows with ratings too significant not to offer local advertisers." The network averages an 0.5 rating but that number has topped 0.8 on "South Park" Wednesdays. The next tier of shows don't do badly, either: newcomers "Ben Stein," "Make Me Laugh" and "Viva" are all considered ratings successes. Next up: "Bob & Margaret," based on the Academy Award-winning animated short about a miserable dentist and his fussy wife; and a series featuring the New York-based comedy troupe Upright Citizens Brigade, which will get what Herzog called "the most coveted slot in all of cable" as the new lead-out to "South Park." Comedy executives are frustrated that no program has been able to retain more than 30 percent of the "South Park" audience, perhaps owing to the fact that the show's unmatched outrageousness virtually eliminates the chance of finding its twin. But Herzog is optimistic he will solve that problem, if only because Comedy will continue to corner the market on cutting-edge writers and performers. "The networks are into taking chances, but with something a little more familiar and a little brand equity in terms of the star. And if they have the good fortune to uncover a `South Park' I question whether they've got the guts to put something like that on."

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This page last updated 11-Apr-99 10:30 PM

Articles for the week of March 8, 1999