Another Kind of Rerun

As Fred Silverman has surveyed the current television landscape in recent months, he found himself overcome by a feeling of deja vu all over again--a sense that prime time has traveled back to the future.

That familiarity, however, was not just the standard cycle that situation comedies and dramas undergo--with NBC’s “Friends” inspiring a horde of imitators in 1994 and CBS’ forensic crime-solvers on “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” giving rise to its own clones a half-dozen years later; rather, Silverman’s vision dated back half a century, when a television industry still in its infancy put on shows with an eye toward filling time as inexpensively as possible.

Broadcasters’ recent steps into the way-back machine raise intriguing questions. For while evolving social mores, the political mood, cultural trends and sheer desperation have always helped define the television shows of the time, economic considerations have of late put a unique stamp on the shape of the prime-time environment.

In that respect, the perennial challenge of gauging the public’s tastes has become an even more elaborate juggling act--perhaps the most delicate in the medium’s history. Networks already struggling with how best to stand apart in a crowded video marketplace find themselves balancing that imperative against some of the most serious budgetary concerns they have faced in years, as well as a public still absorbing the impact of terrorist attacks on U.S. soil.

At this juncture, the best one can do is guess at what the future holds. Some have surmised, for example, that the tragedy played out in New York, the Washington, D.C., area and Pennsylvania may spur a return to escapist fantasy and broad comedy--two genres that viewers sought out at video rental stores in the first days after those events.

Others have suggested that unscripted programming, or so-called “reality” shows, will look especially pallid when compared to the reality depicted on newscasts, hastening the demise of a genre that has rapidly proliferated across prime time.

There have been signs of this shift, as the Fox programs “Love Cruise” and “Who Wants to Be a Princess?” both drew tepid audiences last week.

Still, all of these cultural and psychological concerns must be weighed against other factors--among them economic challenges that emerged as a driving force in shaping television well before the attacks occurred, which have only been exacerbated by further softening of the stock and advertising markets in recent weeks.

In reporting this story--most of which was done, it should be pointed out, before the recent attacks--the question was how the mandate to hold down costs can be reconciled with the traditional need to identify and tap into public appetites.

And like Silverman, many saw certain analogies between the television of today and the early days of the medium, when the nascent TV networks were based in New York and still had one foot in the radio business.

“If you look at a schedule in the 1950s, it’s loaded with panel shows and game shows and even a couple of reality shows ... [with] quite a bit of news in prime time,” said Silverman, now a producer, who oversaw programming at the three major networks in the 1970s and early ‘80s. “They were basically put on because of financial constraints.”

In a sense, a similar dynamic has emerged today. With audiences fragmented by a proliferation of options, major broadcasters seeking the next cutting-edge hit have increasingly returned to low-cost formats long ago chased from prime time.

“They’re kind of going back to their roots, but for all the wrong reasons,” Silverman suggested.

Part of this may have to do with the fact that television itself has become more like radio, as cable subscribers and satellite dish owners (which together account for more than three-quarters of U.S. homes) receive dozens of channels, catering to virtually every niche and taste.

As a result, modern versions of ‘50s phenomena such as wrestling, roller derby and quiz shows--including ABC’s “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” and NBC’s “Weakest Link”--resurface in prime time because they offer inexpensive thrills for a fraction of the cost of scripted dramas.

“How many ‘Halloween’ movies are we up to now, 64?” said Donald G. Godfrey, a professor at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Telecommunication at Arizona State University, referring to the low-budget horror movie that has spawned a half-dozen sequels. “In terms of patterns, we keep going back to what is economically sound.”

To the youthful MTV generation tuning in such unscripted programs as CBS’ “Survivor” or NBC’s “Fear Factor,” all this may look like a new wave--and indeed, the prime-time lineups assembled last spring were awash in more than a dozen such series this fall.

So it may come as a surprise for teenagers to learn that their grandparents, who watched TV on black-and-white screens smaller than a computer monitor, saw obvious antecedents to this new crop. Prime time in the ‘50s, after all, included “We, the People” (which interviewed guests about remarkable events in their lives), “Candid Camera” and “Blind Date”--an audience-participation program hosted by Arlene Francis (college students tried to win dates with an unseen model) that had nothing to do with a more libidinous program by the same name currently running on television stations five nights a week.

It is not uncommon, of course, for television to mine what has worked before, a tradition that has served the industry remarkably well through the years. Formats that thrived during the Eisenhower or Reagan years have found new life in a new century. Small wonder that each decade has experienced its own version of “reality” television, including “Real People” and “That’s Incredible!” circa 1980 and “America’s Funniest Home Videos” a decade later.

The widespread popularity of unscripted programs, however, has renewed contemplation about the nature of viewing cycles, the future of various genres and what hoary variations may arise next.

Notably, past assumptions that a certain format was spent have always been followed by some spectacular revival, though perhaps in a slightly spruced up package--what producer Steven Bochco has referred to as “serving old wine in a new bottle.”

In the early 1980s, the situation comedy was famously pronounced dead, before programs such as “The Cosby Show,” “Roseanne” and “Cheers” appeared, becoming the top-rated series in prime time.

A decade later, the drama was deemed on life support, only to have “NYPD Blue,” “The X-Files,” “Law & Order” and “ER” revive that genre, commercially and creatively.

To some, the same generational patterns that influence politics and culture have turned up repeatedly in prime-time television.

“They’ve been called by different names over the years, but they just keep recycling,” said Chuck Bachrach, executive vice president for media and programming at Rubin Postaer and Associates, a Los Angeles-based advertising agency. “It’s the same with the shows.”

If defining these patterns generally eludes a business where five out of six new programs don’t last to see a second season, most also concede that the zeitgeist of the times plays a part in determining which programs take root.

Dramas such as “ER,” which offered heroic young doctors in an emergency room, and “The West Wing,” a series whose White House staffers nobly wear their patriotism on their sleeves, seemingly fulfilled a certain sense of longing among viewers. In each case, the series responded to apprehension within society at the time, from the reliability of the nation’s health-care system to reduced faith in government, said Don Ohlmeyer, who ran NBC’s West Coast operations when those programs were introduced.

“What both shows created was a place that you wished existed,” Ohlmeyer said.

While entertainment executives ponder what impact fear of domestic terrorism will have on films and television, the relationship between popular entertainment and the political or social conventions of a particular time have always been complex and unpredictable.

In the past, for example, there have been suggestions that the programs that flourished during the Reagan administration--most notably the serials “Dallas” and “Dynasty”--exemplified the fruits of unvarnished capitalism by exploring the lives of the filthy rich.

Still, Museum of Television and Radio curator Ron Simon labeled that a somewhat simplistic characterization of what happened. Yes, those shows were serials, but they were followed by “Hill Street Blues”--a gritty police drama that brought the same serialized narrative approach to the one-hour form. So what viewers may have been responding to was continuous story lines, after a period in which most dramatic series wrapped up stories within a single, self-contained episode.

“Some of the programs reflect what was happening on a social and cultural level, but if you look underneath the shows you see the transformations in the landscape of television,” Simon noted.

In similar fashion, while audiences thrilled to the possibility of instant riches on “Twenty-One” and “The $64,000 Question” in the ‘50s, that decade also gave rise to “I Love Lucy” and “The Honeymooners” along with the police drama “Dragnet”--”pioneers of what television would look like,” as Simon put it, for decades to come, while quiz shows migrated to the daytime hours.

“The real phenomena, they tap into the mood of the time,” said Jeff Sagansky, chief executive of Pax TV, who served as president at CBS when the family western “Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman” made its debut.

Sagansky’s channel, in fact, recently unveiled a prequel to the ‘60s western hit “Bonanza,” titled “Ponderosa,” feeling the time is right for a revival of that genre--which dominated prime time during the 1950s.

Other networks also say they are putting westerns into development, drawn to the square-jawed values of good versus evil. Yet again, these programs are expensive, doing little to ameliorate the cost problem.

Perhaps more than anything, Sagansky sees a desire for a less cynical brand of programming, citing the hopefulness and idea of public service embodied by “The West Wing.”

“I would say the very best episodes are almost spiritual,” Sagansky noted earlier this month. “When they get done, you want to run out and go work for the government.”

So what comes next? Silverman suggested the variety show--another inexpensive format that was wildly popular during the ‘50s, from Ed Sullivan to Milton Berle--would be the next logical comeback candidate. ABC has drawn respectable ratings this summer with a variety program starring comic and impressionist Wayne Brady, just as the network’s improvisational “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” represents a kinder, gentler version of unscripted entertainment.

In another throwback to the ‘50s, advertisers have also begun taking a more active role in programming, sponsoring development of scripts through a venture called the Family Friendly Programming Forum and forging sponsorship deals with particular shows--among them an upcoming WB network adventure series, “No Boundaries,” using the Ford advertising slogan as its title.

Again, this subtly mimics the early days of television, when major sponsors such as Ford, Kraft and Gillette had their own showcases with marquee identification in prime time.

So much is unknown at this point, so much is in flux, that drawing any broad conclusions about what lies ahead seems particularly ephemeral. News programs, for one, would appear destined to assume a more important role in prime time in the near future, as events warrant.

It seems certain a prevailing theme, however, will remain grappling with the issue of cost, which has spurred networks to try more alternative formats as well as reduce spending on development of scripted programs.

Speculation as to what this push-and-pull may ultimately mean to prime-time programming is nothing new. Indeed, a decade ago the Federal Communications Commission released a lengthy report predicting diminished network ratings would eventually result in “lower-cost and lower-quality programming.”

Moreover, competition to break through with the kind of expensive, scripted programs that once defined the major networks has grown more intense. Cable channels--particularly pay service Home Box Office, which benefits from a subscription-based business model--have garnered critical praise, media attention and significant audiences by investing in ambitious series, including “The Sopranos,” “Sex and the City” and now the $120-million World War II epic “Band of Brothers.”

The emphasis on economics has also been witnessed in a more corporate mind-set within network executive suites--a departure from the day when programming wonks such as Silverman and the late Brandon Tartikoff, who ran NBC Entertainment throughout the 1980s, rearranged programming squares without so many bulky layers of management hovering above them.

A year before his death in 1997, Tartikoff wrote a column for The Times offering advice to his successors, urging them to “Put on what’s not on” and not get caught up “chasing trends instead of starting them.”

Tartikoff also cautioned against becoming too enamored with a particular concept or genre, maintaining that execution--good writing, casting and acting--is ultimately the most important attribute, an enduring truth that has spanned the various chapters in television’s relatively short history.

“Viewers make friends with the characters, not the concept,” Tartikoff said. “Not many folks come home from work muttering to themselves, ‘I wish somebody would put on a good fire-station comedy.”’