Around the dial

Saturday Night Life was a show that wasn't shown on the NBC affiliate back when I lived in the World's Worst Town™. This was back when the show debuted, so I was never sure whether the station thought it was too controversial, or simply wanted the revenue from showing old movies instead. At any rate, that was about 45 years ago, or around the same time that Garry Berman stopped watching it altogether. This week, he tells us why.

For years, we've been inundated with more television than anyone could possibly watch, thanks to the increase in streaming. But now, according to Mary Kate Carr at The A.V. Club, the end of Peak TV also means a decline in new television shows, by as much as 25%, if you can notice it. What does the future hold? It's a question we ask often, but nobody really knows the answer.

Kat Lively's latest episode of her podcast Calling Old Hollywood is now available, as she interviews screenwriter Neal Gumpel about Hollywood and the entertainment industry, films, AI, existentialism, the evolution (and censorship) of comedy, and other wide-ranging topics. You can see that episode here, along with past episodes, articles, and more. 

At Realweegiemidget, Gill looks at one of her favorites among the "retro television reunion film" genre, 1983's The Return of the Man from U.N.C.L.E., starring our heroes Robert Vaughn and David McCallum, with Patrick Macnee stepping in for the late Leo G. Carroll. It's one of the earliest of the reunion movies, and one of the most enjoyable; too bad it didn't result in a few more.

The Hitchcock Project continues unabated at bare•bones e-zine, with Jack reviewing the second and last contribution of Richard Fielder, 1963's "To Catch a Butterfly," starring Bradford Dillman, Diana Hyland, and Ed Asner. It's not just a gripping mystery, it is, as Jack says, "a fascinating look at parenting styles in America in the 1950s and 1960s," the kind of thing TV does so well.

The Broadcast Archives has a number of fascinating posts this week, including a 1949 Science Illustrated article (not written by AI, as Sports Illustrated might have done) on "What Every Family Wants to Know About Television," but I'm also recommending this look at Dave Garroway's pre-Today series Garroway at Large, an excellent example of the "Chicago Style" of television.

At Cult TV Blog, John continues his series of articles wondering if Patrick McGoohan's Number 6 was a plant, not a Prisoner, with the episode "Many Happy Returns." It's one of the series' more bizarre episodes, and looking at it from John's perspective makes it even more bizarre, but does it prove that Number 6 is a plant? You'll have to see for yourself.

Television Obscurities looks at a recent list from the Television Academy (the people who put on the Emmys) on the Top 75 Most Impactful Television Moments. Aside from my refusal to recognize "impactful" as a real word, I agree with Robert that it's nice to see a list that's not loaded with the recency bias that we see in so many of these lists. As always, YMMV.

Norman Jewison, the director whose works include the movies In the Heat of the Night, Rollerball, Fiddler on the Roof, and many more, died this week, aged 97. As Terence points out at A Shroud of Thoughts, Jewison also did a lot of television earlier in his career, particularly variety shows and specials. Quite a career, any way you measure it.

It seems like just yesterday that we were reading about Paul's journey through Season 1 of Bonanza, and already we're on to Season 2, as he recounts at Drunk TV. The legendary Western is hitting is its stride, and this season's episodes develops and expands on themes and characters introduced in the first season. It's already clear that Bonanza is not the average TV horse opera.

At The View from the Junkyard, Mike digs into "The Practical Joker," from the second season of Star Trek: The Animated Series. Romulans, gas clouds, practical jokes, and our first look at what is obviously The Next Generation's holodeck—what more, really, could anyone hope for from a 23-minute animated show? 

And finally, my friend Rodney Marshall has edited a new book, New Waves: 1980s TV In Britain, a collection of essays on the decade in British television drama. If that isn't enough, Maddy at Classic Film and TV Corner is one of the contributors, as she looks at The Gentle Touch, the first British series to feature a female police officer as the lead. Be sure to check it out. TV  

Around the dial

We'll start this week by spending some time with Bob Sassone's review of "The 100 Best Sitcoms of All Time" list by Rolling Stone. I'll let you be the judge of this, but I don't generally think much of these lists, and neither does Bob. It goes not so much to the content of the list itself; I agree with some and disagree with others, and while I agree with much of what Bob says, he and I don't see eye-to-eye on all of them either. 

No; as he says, "Let’s face it: 'The 100 Best Sitcoms of All-Time' should just be called '100 Sitcoms,' because when you have a list that large you’re simply naming sitcoms that have existed." One hundred is way too large a number; why should anyone care what the 87th-best sticom of all time is? And then there's the guideline that the listmaker uses. Some shows appear simply to prove it's well-rounded, relevant; but lists like this—and, often, the writers who produce them—frequently suffer from recency bias, which means pretty much what it sounds like it should mean. And that's not the only kind of bias at work with these kinds of lists: the listmaker might have a bias against black-and-white shows, or shows made in England, or shows with female leads. We all have our own bias, but the job of a critic is to put those aside when making considered opinions. Bottom line, as Bob says: "Just give us what you think are the top sitcoms of all-time." And I haven't even gotten into the actual content—but what do you think about it?

While you're pondering that question, here's the rest of the best of the week. At MeTV, a great article on how John Astin initially wasn't sure that he was right to play Gomez Addams. Raul Julia aside, I can't imagine anyone else playing him, myself.

I don't play favorites here, but I will admit that few features have given me more pleasure over the years I've been doing this than Jack's Hitchcock Project pieces at bare•bones e-zine, and for his 250th review, he looks at William Fay's sixth-season episode "Gratitude," with Peter Falk and a stellar supporting cast. 

I rarely pass up the opportunity to praise Burgess Meredith, who is always so good in whatever role he plays, from The Twilight Zone to Batman. At Classic Film & TV Cafe, Rick has his famous seven things to know about everyone's favorite penguin.

Television Obscurities flashes back to the 1956 sitcom Joe and Mabel (wonder if it was on the Rolling Stone list), and after reading Robert's article, I wonder if the show could ever have been as interesting as the story behind it?

Television's New Frontier: the 1960s brings us to the year 1962, as seen on Route 66. It was the series' most successful year, ratings-wise, but also its most challenging, as George Maharis misses time (and eventually leaves the series) recovering from hepatitis. 

A couple of remembrances: at The Lucky Strike Papers, Andrew recalls songstress Jill Corey, former star of Your Hit Parade; and at A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence celebrates Billie Hayes, whom we would remember as Witchiepoo in H.R. Pufnstuf.

Finally, at Comfort TV, David takes a look at one of the mainstays of classic television: the club scene. Not nightclubs—things like social clubs, after-school clubs, clubs for people with common interests. Of course, with the virus they probably wouldn't be meeting anyway, but as David points out, life doesn't seem to be like that anymore anyway (see Bowling Alone for more evidence), and I think we're the poorer for it. My wife and I are always looking for groups like those to join, but we also wonder why we're never invited to cocktail parties. The fact that we don't drink might have something to do with it. TV  

TV's top moments?

Dsn’t know if you saw this item the other day – a list of the most significant moments in TV over the last 50 years, as voted on by television viewers in a survey conducted by Sony and Nielsen TV research. Not surprisingly, 9/11 was chosen as the top moment. (You can see the entire list here.)

Now, I don’t really put much stock in lists like this, especially when you consider the audience who did the voting. After all, we’re now almost 50 years out from the JFK assassination, and the number of people alive today who actually witnessed those events live on TV (and over 90% of the public did, back then) continues to diminish. Certainly the number is less than those who saw 9/11 live. Therefore, regardless of the importance of a given event, a list like this is going to be heavily slanted toward more recent events – events the voters saw for hemselves.* That’s probably why we have the arbitrary 50-year timeframe – which I think is wrong for reasons I’ll get into shortly.

*I mean, come on – the death of Whitney Houston (#11)?

I’m also not quite sure what the criteria should be for this kind of list. According to Sony and Nielsen, the survey ranked TV moments “for their impact, not just by asking people if they remembered watching them, but if they recalled where they watched it, who they were with and whether they talked to other people about what they had seen.” But what does this really mean? Are we talking about the most memorable moments ever seen on TV? Those with the biggest impact on the medium? Those that resonated most with viewers, or those that were most newsworthy? Those with the biggest cultural impact? Because these are very different things we’re discussing.* "What we were trying to measure was perception," Paul Lindstrom, a senior vice president at Nielsen told Reuters. And I understand that. But under these circumstances, what you’re bound to miss is perspective, while winding up with a list top-heavy in terms of feelings**

*Not to harp on Whitney Houston, but if Elvis had died during the age of CNN we wouldn’t even be having this discussion.

**See Princess Diana, (#10).

From left: 9/11, the JFK funeral, the O.J. verdict, the Oklahoma City bombing

However, Lindstrom does have it right when he refers to events that “brought emotional memories together.” Television is, or at least was intended to be, a shared experience – a communal event that people could watch together, discuss together, share memories of together. In this sense, it should come as no surprise that all 20 on the list were news events; in today’s culture, news and sports are just about the only events that we all watch together. Everything else is just something we watch at our convenience, when and where and how we we want. (At this point I should be talking about what a shame this is, but I think regular readers of the blog have probably heard that from me enough times already.)

Television historians have their own bias, of course, which means a list drawn up by them might not be any better. I suspect we’d see more “culturally significant” events (the Beatles on Sullivan, for example) and “important” entertainment programs (Roots), but it might miss out entirely on the “emotional memories” that Lindstrom talks about. And then there’s the timeframe – the last 50 years, mind you, goes back only to 1962. A lot happened on television prior to 1962 – the Kennedy-Nixon debates, for example, or the Army-McCarthy hearings, each of which had a profound importance that carried far beyond their immediate times. Milton Berle’s Texaco Star Theater had an extraordinary impact on our culture – movie theaters and stores were practically empty as what seemed to be the entire nation sat around the TV watching this landmark show. Talk to someone from that era, and you’ll see how important it was – and countless other TV moments that occurred before ’62. Problem is, there just aren’t as many viewers left who can tell you what it was really like. And watching Berle today, on DVD, is a significantly different experience, shaded by our shifting mores, our tastes, and our historical awareness of what we’re seeing.

No, TV is a medium that is so highly dependent on individual tastes, and our culture today is so fragmented into minute subgroups, that it’s probably impossible to come up with a comprehensive list that takes all these factors into consideration and makes a significant contribution to television history. And I’m sure Sony and Nielsen were only looking for headlines, a chance to generate a story or two, and in that they succeeded. Maybe if you did it like the Book of Lists, where you ask a bunch of people – actors, historians, famous viewers – to list their moments, and then include the Sony/Nielsen survey to represent the public at large, you’d come up with something that was more significant, or at least entertaining. It would also be more worth arguing about. Speaking of arguments, for what it’s worth I’ll offer my own top 10 list, using all of those things I talked about above as a basis for my choices. They’re in no order other than chronological –feel free to show me how I’m all wet and your list is the one that really counts.

1. Milton Berle’s Texaco Star Theater (1948)
2. Amahl and the Night Visitors (1951)
3. The JFK assassination and funeral (1963)
4. The final episode of The Fugitive (1967)
5. The premiere of Laugh-In (1968)
6. Man walks on the moon (1969)
7. The final episode of Roots (1977)
8. The "Who Shot J.R." episode of Dallas (1980)
9. The O.J. Simpson verdict (1995)
10. September 11, 2001

TV