What I miss

Nowadays TV shows are “dropped” (as the expression goes). All of a sudden 13 episodes of your series appears on Netflix. What you don’t get is “opening night.”

There are still opening nights on broadcast networks. But even then, the episodes are immediately available on other platforms, and depending on the network, time slot, and promotion – you may draw a ridiculously small audience.

Ah, but “back in the day” (which always struck me a stupid expression), audiences flocked to see new shows because their only means of TV entertainment was live TV.

And for me getting a show on the air was not just a feat, it was magical.

Think about it…

David Isaacs and I dream up an idea. We toss it around, see if it has legs, see if it’s something we’d like to be doing for five years, etc. If we decide to commit to it we then pitch it to the only three buyers there are out there.

One buys it. Hooray!

We dream up characters, we stockpile future stories, we write a pilot. Now this idea of ours is on paper. There’s a cover with the studio logo. It’s a “thing.”

After who-knows-how-many drafts the network gives us the go-ahead to make it. We now cast the show and assemble a crew. The idea in our head has sprouted a giant soundstage, complete with sets. Forty guys named Dave are running around hanging lights and painting flats. Now it’s really a “thing.

The pilot gets made, we fly back to New York, miraculously get it on the schedule, and then really go to work. For the next five months we put together the writing staff, and completely immerse ourselves in the show. Scripts are written, episodes are filmed and edited.

And finally, on a night sometime in September, the show is slated to premier. We have an opening night party. And that’s when the excitement builds. Multiple TV monitors are set up (usually in a restaurant) and the countdown begins. Being on the West Coast the show is delayed three hours and already I’m getting calls from friends and family who watched it back east.

Now it’s 2 minutes to air. People start gathering around the TV’s. They turn the sound up. Commercials air. Getting close now. And then station ID. That’s when it really hits me. Holy shit! I’m on CBS.

Then the show begins, usually to huge applause from those of us who work on it. And for the first time there are our sets and actors exposed to the world. By now I’ve watched countless roughcuts. But now the entire country is seeing it. And since this is before all the other viewing options, that probably means 20,000,000 people. That kernel of an idea is now a national TV show.

I would hope that in some form or fashion producers of today’s debuting shows get that thrill. Many shows today are shown in relative obscurity. And yet those involved work just as hard and put in just as much time and effort as we did.

When people say “Why do a show on CBS when you can do it on Starz?” – THAT’S why. And it’s only a matter of time before broadcast networks go the way of the dinosaur but it was sure fun while it lasted.

from By Ken Levine

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