Notes from the picket line

Back from the front lines at 20th Century Fox. Day One of David vs. Goliath-Warner-corps-com-inc-ney.

Good turnout and well organized. Picket signs aplenty, many new, bottled water, and even printed lyrics to custom protest chants.

Lots of cars and trucks honked in support. Even a cement mixer, whose driver probably has three upcoming pool constructions now in jeopardy.

Since it was the first day the media was there in full force. By tomorrow there will be nobody. It was fun watching these reporters scouring the writers looking for a familiar face – ANY familiar face. And then the scowls of disappointment when there was nobody “famous” enough for them. Sorry guys, Tina Fey is in New York.

Any writer who brought a kid got interviewed.

Camera crews filmed us all marching. If they use more than four seconds of it I will be floored.

Face it, we’re not a pretty union. We'll never be mistaken for SAG.

At one point I was walking with Jim Brooks and Allan Burns (two of my absolute IDOLS) and a reporter approached Jim (pictured left). Once she confirmed he was involved with THE SIMPSONS she asked this multi Oscar and Emmy winner “are you also a writer?”


Meanwhile, another SIMPSONS scribe, Mike Scully was marching… on crutches. There's got to be some WGA award he can win for that, right?

There was a union guy with a megaphone trying to rally the troops. We’re not used to that. He tried to lead us all in a rousing chant of “We are the writers, the mighty mighty writers!” and the only reaction he got was snickering. Note to anyone with a megaphone: We’re just not a real rah rah bunch.

It was fun to reconnect with friends I hadn't seen in awhile (i.e. the last strike).

You also see a lot of people on the line you haven’t seen in awhile and can’t remember who they are or how you know them. Overheard a LOT: “Hey, man/babe/dude/guy, how are ya? You’re looking great.”

Also overheard every six seconds: “What WERE you working on?”

Unfortunately, you also see every writer who ever fucked you over in your career, got the job you coveted, beat you in an arbitration, stole your girl, or beaned you in an industry softball game. And you pass by them again...and again...and again...and again...

Actor David Clennon was on the line marching. He’s not even in the WGA. Our sincere thanks to everyone not in the guild who is supporting our cause. Just ‘cause we’re the “mighty mighty writers” doesn’t mean we don’t really appreciate your help.

At 1:00 when the first shift was over I bet Junior's deli was PACKED. Not everyone will suffer from this strike.

I wrote an article for Sunday’s TORONTO STAR about the strike. Some of points I’ve mentioned already in my blog but if you’d like to see it translated into Canadian, this is the article.

See you tomorrow on Pico Blvd with my sign.

Honk if you love writers!

Sitcom Room 2

It's picture day. No time to write. Must grab my protest sign and re-enact the final scene from ON THE WATERFRONT.

Thanks to everyone who participated in this weekend's Sitcom Room 2 seminar. The scenes you guys wrote were great. Might as well join on us the picket line. You'll be in the guild soon enough.

Here are a few photos of the event:

Me, lecturing. I think this is the part where I told them I invented situation comedy.

Here are the Sitcommunists, captured in the one minute they enjoyed my lecture.

The actors who performed their scenes much better than they performed mine. Kimberly Wallis, Jeremy Licht, and Andy Goldberg. Kimberly was just on CSI: NEW YORK last week but you might not recognize her without a syringe sticking out of her neck.

The students were broken into four writing room teams. Here's one team getting studio "notes". See how thrilled they are. The note they've just been given is "Is there any way to write-in Renee Taylor?"

One of the groups hard at work. Could just as easily be a scene from Prison Break.

The seminar concluded with a panel of highly-respected-now-striking writers. Pictured: Fred Rubin, Marley Sims, Phoef Sutton, and me. Missing from the picture is my partner, David Isaacs. He's determined to be the "Maris" of my blog.

Again, thanks to all! For a first-person account of what the weekend was really like, participant Kari Geltmeyer files this in her blog.

Now I must put on my Norma Rae costume and storm the Fox lot.

On the eve of the strike

Hello from the fabulous Embassy Suites at LAX where my Sitcom Room 2 seminar is in full swing. As the students busily rewrite maybe the worst scene ever written (I wrote it) here are some personal observations on the eve of the WGA strike:

The fact that the producers had no desire to meet over the weekend to possibly reach an eleventh hour settlement is all you need to know about their sincere desire to settle this.

The last strike in ’88 was a killer. But there are some differences. Last time we went out in March, just as the TV season ended. That’s like the Major League baseball players association going out on strike in November. The only way studio and network executives would’ve seen our protest signs in ’88 is if we would have picketed the Four Seasons Maui.

Another difference: in the 80’s there were splinter groups of self serving writers who opposed the strike. Not this time. I have never seen the guild so unified, never seen the membership so strong in its resolve.

A number of non-guild members have asked what they can do? First off, thanks so much for your offer and support. I would say write editorials, blogs, letters-to-editors – anything to help educate the general public about what’s really going on here.

Gee, I hope Paul Haggis got his James Bond script in on time. And Paul, if you decide to join us in picketing you can’t park in your space on the lot.

Leave it to Hollywood. One of the big questions about the strike is what affect it will have on the Oscar telecast? Of course, this is the same industry that when President Reagan was shot, one of the trades had this headline: OSCARCAST POSTPONED. And then below in much smaller type: PRESIDENT SHOT.

The producers say we already receive royalties from DVD sales. There are no less than fifteen box sets of TV series with my scripts in them. I haven’t received a dime. I have gotten $0.19 from American Airlines for showing eight of my episodes on maybe 10,000 flights. If I save my AA royalties for 147 years I might be able to buy a snack box.

The studios could generate about $158 million from selling movies online and about $194 million from selling TV shows over the Web. So you can see why paying writers even a small royalty would financially destroy them.

And forget syndication. Networks aren’t even rerunning primetime hits. Writers could always count on a nice residual from a second network run but now popular shows like 24 and LOST go straight to the net and don’t even get a rerun.

Bottom line: a year from now the WGA, SAG, and DGA will have some deal in place, some participation formula that covers DVDs and internet delivery systems. Wouldn’t be easier for all concerned if they just negotiated something now? Why do we have to drag a dead horse across the finish line just to shoot it?

Savers

What a busy weekend. I'm conducting my second Sitcom Room seminar at the glorious Embassy Suites at LAX and preparing to strike. The object of the Sitcom Room is to give young writers the chance to really experience what's it like being in a writing room under actual rewrite night conditions. I plan on preparing them with vital survival secrets. Here's what you'd be learning if you were in the class:

To be a TV comedy writer you have to have thick skin. Generally you’re in a room with other comedy writers, all neurotics, competing against each other to get your ideas or jokes in the script. Eight puppies and one sock. Many times you’ll pitch a joke that doesn’t get a laugh or doesn’t get in. You’re out there with egg on your face. I find it’s best to develop a series of savers. As a public service, here are a few I use. (Note: if you find yourself using all of these in a five minute span consider other employment).
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Hey guys, don’t all hoist me on your shoulders at once!

Okay, but you’re denying America pleasure.

Oh God, it’s my prom night all over again.

If Jon Stewart pitched that you’d put it right in.

I hear laughter but I don’t see the pencil moving.

Okay, don’t see your kids tonight. Stay all night. I’m doing this for you. Some thanks I get.

Sure, it’s not funny when I say it. But when (actor) says it…

You’re only mad because you didn’t think of it first.

Nurse! They’re being mean to me again!

The laugh machine will LOVE it.

I bet at COLD CASE they’d be hysterical.

Fine. I wasn’t meant to be appreciated in my time.

I don’t feel the love, you assholes.

You try being funny when you’re having a stroke.

See it typed. You’ll think differently.

Okay, what if they said it in a funny accent?

I’m sorry. Are there no more seats at the Algonquin Round Table?

So you’re saying perfection isn’t good enough?

Hey, you hired me!

(In Forghorn Leghorn voice) I say, I say, I keep pitchin’ ‘em, boy, and you keep missin’ ‘em.

Jesus, people, doesn’t ANYTHING make you laugh?

You all remember. I used to be funny, right?

And of course, the ultimate saver and perennial crowd pleaser – Go fuck yourself.

Blogging during the strike

The WGA contract negotiations/strike/ramifications/scuttlebutt will be featured here as events dictate but I also plan to continue posting my usual variety of nonsense, snarky rants, and self indulgent anecdotes. I feel I have that obligation to you, my dear audience.

Thank you.

Negative buzz on the BEE MOVIE

Okay. I get it! The fucking BEE MOVIE is opening. I can’t remember a movie more heavily promoted and as a result a movie I want to see less.

I mean, I’m used to the typical media barrage before a studio picture opens. The self-serving star interviews. Hard hitting entertainment reporter Sam Rubin fawning all over Jodie Foster trying to sell her cry vengeance movie as social commentary or Milla Jovovich describing how RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION is really just a thoughtful film about women’s empowerment.

I’m used to studio hype machines using ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT and HOLLYWOOD ACCESS as the tools they are. When ET leads off during the recent LA wildfires that displaced a half a million people with this headline: STARS HOMES THREATENED!!! you know you’re watching the show biz equivalent of the Mustang Ranch.

The obligatory “making of” documentary is a staple of a film’s rollout but unless you have HBO and your remote doesn’t work you never have to see them.

And tie-ins with fast food chains are now commonplace. SAW IV action figures at Del Taco, that sort of cross-promotion.

But nothing prepared me for the onslaught of hype for BEE MOVIE. Talk about using napalm to kill a moth. STOP ALREADY!! I KNOW it’s opening this Friday! I KNOW Jerry Seinfeld is in it! I KNOW it’s a hilarious comedy the entire family will enjoy. Please let me pick up a magazine and not see Jerry’s smug face. If the condition of his guesting on 30 ROCK is two shameless plugs then don’t do me any favors. I’d rather see Tina Fey filling the screen time anyway.

Even Jerry’s HP commercial was laced with BEE MOVIE mentions. Would he do a Flomax spot too if they let him slip in a plug? “If it weren’t for Flomax you’d be pissing in your pants when you see BEE MOVIE!”

And the irony of all this is that Jerry takes the stance (in every article in every publication including, I imagine, MODERN BRIDE and MERCENARY LIFE) that he doesn’t have to work. And yet he’s promoting this movie so relentlessly you’d think he’ll be forced to clean Faye Dunaway’s toilets if it doesn’t open.

BEE MOVIE might be terrific. But at some point there’s a backlash from over-promotion. In this case that came on Labor Day.

My biggest fear isn’t that the movie doesn’t live up to all the hype (how could it?), it’s that it does do well and there’s a BEE MOVIE 2. I might have to leave the country.

The WGA strike

I imagine every writer who has a blog is offering his/her thoughts on the pending WGA strike today. Here, in no particular order, are mine.

And yes, I will continue to blog if there is a strike.

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Make no mistake about it – industry strikes only occur when management forces the issue. ALWAYS. Every time. No exceptions. Who do you think can hold out longer? The story editor of KIM POSSIBLE with two kids in private school or Sumner Redstone? So who do you think has more to gain by playing hardball?

What’s scary is this: in the old days, one of the unions would strike, it would last for a few months and Lew Wasserman of Universal would say, “Okay, this has gone on long enough.” and it would be over. This year there is no Lew Wasserman. There is not even Universal as we knew it.

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Some network officials are saying that since this season is already a bust with no breakout hits (and whose fault is that I ask those same network visionaries who programmed CAVEMEN, VIVA LAUGHLIN, and NASHVILLE?) a strike would be welcomed. They could cut losses from runaway production. That’s fine except that after the last strike in 1988 the combined network share dropped 10% and has continued to fall ever since. The industry suffered a half-billion dollars in lost revenue, and MOONLIGHTING ratings never recovered. Can the AMPTP really afford another big strike?

It’s like if you’re a restaurant that’s struggling is it a good idea to close on weekends?

*****

How’s this for an idiotic remark? In a recent article in the LA TIMES, TV writer Robert Eisele suggested that in light of the strike if writers “can afford a Bentley, get a Mercedes.” Yeah, that helps the WGA’s image. We’re all driving Bentleys. Newsflash: NO writer I know drives a Bentley. And none will until they start putting Prius engines in the damn things! Oh...and we don’t light our cigars with hundred dollar bills either.

******

This acrimony between writers and management has been going on since the 1930s when scribes first rose up and had the audacity to…well, ask for things. Warner Brother czar Jack Warner warned that any writer who joined the union would “find themselves out of work forever”. And he claimed this wasn’t blacklisting because “it would all be done over the telephone”. Darryl Zanuck of 20th Century Fox once said, “Throw that writer off the lot until I need him again!” Critic David Thomson says Hollywood writers are like divorce lawyers or private eyes. When you want them you have to have them, but later you despise them.

Is there any wonder we “Schmucks with Underwoods” have an inferiority complex and assume a defensive posture? We spend our entire careers trying to protect our work against studios, directors, actors, fellow writers, research gurus, networks, and girlfriends of the all of the above.

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Networks claim that streaming shows on the internet and making them available for ipods is merely for “promotional purposes only”. If that’s true, why do they CHARGE for them on itunes? And even if they didn’t, by making shows available on the internet they reduce their value for reruns and syndication.

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Nice timing of NBC Universal and News Corp to begin testing their joint venture – a video site focused solely on TV and film content – three days before the WGA contract was up.

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And is it just me, or don’t writers who feverishly try to finish and turn in their drafts right before the deadline undermine the WGA’s cause? If Paul Haggis DIDN’T turn in the latest installment of the James Bond series, the studio might have a tad more incentive to make a deal, don’tcha think??

Meanwhile, other writers turned in multiple variations of scripts so the studios would have flexibility filming them. That to me is unconscionable. These are the screenwriters who stand to benefit from DVD and other delivery system royalties. All the rest of us are giving up work to fight for them and they turn in multiple drafts to accommodate the studios?? No wonder the producers think we’re idiots.

And thank you to actors like Vince Vaughn, who since he isn’t in the WGA, finds nothing morally wrong with agreeing to polish scripts during a strike. The fact that we go out on strike to craft a deal that will be the template for the SAG deal so HE won’t have to go out on strike apparently means nothing to him.

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Without credit arbitration (won by the union in a hard fought battle) Jeffrey Katzenberg and Brad Grey might each have four Oscars for co-writing screenplays.

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I will never make another joke about the Teamsters. I love those guys!!! If the Teamsters refuse to cross the picket lines this could be a much shorter strike than management expected.

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I know WGA President Patrick Verrone. Worked with him on a project. Being in a writers room with someone on a show with problems is how you can really learn about a person. Pat is talented, reasonable, dedicated, and cool under pressure. He is far from the John Wayne his detractors claim him to be. We need to give him our support and we need to remain unified and strong.

I’ve been through three strikes already. Many of the companies I struck are no longer in business. Two-thirds of the people I struck with are no longer in the guild. And unlike actors and directors, when we go out it doesn’t just shut down the industry. It slows it. Hair restoration crèmes have faster results. But as someone who has prospered and enjoyed the gains writers before me have won, I feel it’s my obligation to fight the good fight for the next generation. And hopefully in twenty years, when the issue is holograms transmitted directly to the back of viewers’ eye lids, WGA members will hang tough for a piece of that pie.

We’re just looking for our fair share. MyPiece not MySpace. iShare not iTunes. NetWorth not NetFlix.

Happy Halloween

This has always been one of my favorite holidays, especially when the kids were little. Taking them trick-or-treating and seeing them so excited and happy was one of the true joys of parenthood. And then eating the candy they collected was fun too. Of course there’s always that one eccentric house. We had a dentist who gave out toothbrushes. Thank goodness he wasn’t a proctologist.

And where I live, near UCLA, there was always a second wave of trick-or-treaters. Later, after the kids had turned in for the night, sorority girls in yummy costumes would ring the bell. I’d be holding the candy bowl for them in one hand and my Emmy in the other.

During Matt & Annie’s elementary school years there was also the annual Halloween carnival. This was a public school catering to the local neighborhood but we were hardly a typical neighborhood. One year I volunteered by making snow cones and Hugh Hefner and his six bimbos strolled up to my cart. He had a kid in the school. A noted soft-porn actress whose children attended the school offered this for the silent auction: A two hour nude session where you could photograph or paint her. The principal graciously declined that offer but I bet it would have brought in a lot more money than the autographed WINGS script I donated.

For the school’s “Haunted House” Gene Simmons participated. He would pop up and stick out that four-foot tongue. One mother was so freaked she literally sued the school.

Ah, good times.

One thing I learned though, Halloween is an OUTDOOR holiday.

My son’s birthday is November 2nd. (Happy upcoming birthday, Matt!). When he turned five Halloween night fell on a Saturday. So for his party we invited a bunch of his friends to the house where I would take them all out trick-or-treating and then they’d come back for pizza and cake. 5-7 PM. No muss. No fuss. Great plan.

Except it rained. No, it POURED.

First off, as parents deposited their kids they asked if we’d take siblings since they couldn’t take them trick-or-treating in the rain. Of course we said yes, and so at 5:00 I had forty screaming crazed children running around my house – chasing each other with hatchets, and fairy wands, and Star Wars phasers. After relentlessly trying to wrangle this supercharged mob I finally sat down on the stairs and took a breath. I was so proud of myself. I had gotten through it. It’s almost 7. Then I checked my watch. 5:20.

If you have little kids enjoy these precious Halloweens. Soon enough they’ll outgrow you, want to be with their friends instead, and trade phasers for tequila shooters. At least I still have my memories… and the sorority girls keep coming around.

One last Halloween note: I’ve always found it odd that Jehovah’s Witnesses don’t believe in this holiday so they stay home…on the only night of the year when people would actually open their doors to them.

Happy Halloween.

Boo!

The CHEERS script that could have ruined us

With another Writers Guild strike looming, I thought I would add one more day to my Sitcom Room seminar next weekend. I’d give all the participants signs and have them march around the hotel.

One byproduct of a writers strike is that studios may shoot existing scripts but may not change them. So jokes can’t be fixed, lines can’t be tailored to actors, locations can’t be changed (too bad if an exterior gets rained out – you can’t move inside to a new location), and special effects have to be executed just as described (whether they’re possible or not).

In 1985 there was also the possibility of a work stoppage. Back then our contract ran out March 1st, which was idiotic. We’d strike right as the TV season ended. So we’d be out for four months before the producers even knew it. All signs pointed to a peaceful resolution so life went on as planned. NBC asked for a last minute additional episode of CHEERS and David Isaacs and I were asked to write it. There was a big time crunch, the show needed to start filming the following week, so we had three days to write the script. The idea was we’d bang out a draft, turn it in on Friday, we’d all polish it on Monday and Tuesday, and on Wednesday it went into production.

We turned in the script on Friday afternoon and on Saturday negotiations blew apart. An immediate strike was announced.

So now they had to film our very first draft, as is, no changes. This was the first BAR WARS episode. Needless to say, show night was one of the most terrifying nights of my life. I thought, “this is where we’re discovered as frauds”. Amazingly, the show played well. Not as well as it could have, don’t get me wrong. There were plenty of places where jokes could be improved and turns could be better finessed. But on the whole the show worked and there was no noticeable drop in quality.

I’m sure several writers find themselves in that spot today. The lesson here is that even if you’re only given three days to write a whole script, don’t just knock it out. Give it your best, treat it with the same care and hold it to the same standards you would anything bearing your name. Because you never know.

And the good news is, for maybe the only time in your career, the actors will HAVE TO say your words, as written. It’s almost worth taking the assignment just for that.

The Denver Boot

Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox who won the World Championship by beating the Cleveland Indians and then had to fulfill their obligation to Major League Baseball by playing a National League team.

For the Colorado Rockies the fairy tale ended the way INTO THE WOODS did. But kudos for a great year. And they play the Dodgers 19 times next year so they have a good chance of repeating.

At least with a sweep we are no longer subjected to Tim McCarver. Was there even one sentence he didn’t begin with “We talked about this, Joe…”? Thank God for radio and Jon Miller.

With all the cameras Fox had capturing the reactions of every person imaginable, I’m only sorry they didn’t have a camera in Johnny Damon’s house.

I did enjoy the close-up of Red Sox co-owner Tom Werner yawning with two outs in the ninth – thus expressing the sentiments of most of the nation. It was the best owner shot since Jane Fonda was caught sleeping during a Braves playoff game.

Will World Series MVP Mike Lowell be replaced next season by A-Rod?

Nice classless touch of his uber agent Scott Boras to announce that he was opting out of his contract with the Yankees during the game. Reason given: Rodriguez was concerned over all the instability of the Yankees’ situation. REAL reason: Boras has another team already lined up – not that that’s kosher – not that he cares.

Alex Rodriguez will play for any manager and with any teammates if they pay him the most money. He’ll grow a beard and join the House of David if they come up with $240 million.

By the time catcher Jason Varitek leaped into pitcher Jonathan Papelbon’s arms the MLB.COM website was already offering Red Sox World Series championship merchandise. Get yer Manny do-rags in four decorative colors!

For the Red Sox it must be tough playing on the road to only 20,000 of their fans instead of the 37,000 who sell out Fenway every home game. And not being allowed to use a Designated Hitter in Colorado, Boston got a two RBI single from a pitcher and a pinch-hit home run from a utility fielder.

A year ago Jon Lester was undergoing chemotherapy. On Sunday night he won the clinching game of the World Series. How many producers do you think are standing in line to get the rights to his story?

Will Jonathan Papelbon show up this February sweeps on DANCING WITH THE STARS?

For the $103 million it cost Boston for Dice-K, it was Hideki Okajima who really shined.

Only seven of the players from the 2004 championship team were on this squad. Notably missing during the on-field celebration were Johnny Damon, Derek Lowe, Bronson Arroyo, Drew Barrymore.

Remember when the World Series was exciting? Remember when both teams were tough and equally matched and not just a juggernaut vs. schmuck bait? The last Game 7 in a World Series: 2002. And at the time THAT was the lowest rated WS. God knows what the numbers will be for this year’s fall classic. It may become the VIVA LAUGHLIN of premium sporting events.

Again, congratulations to the Boston Red Sox. The best team swept.

For more Red Sox observations and gloating please visit my son's highly entertaining Sox blog, Dirty Watah.

When do pitchers and catchers report? I already miss baseball.

Never think you're great

Glowing reviews are lovely but you have to take them in stride. The minute you start BELIEVING them you're cooked. Because as someone once said, "There are always Romanian judges".

David Isaacs and I wrote the screenplay for VOLUNTEERS (probably playing right now on Spike or the Food Network) and got our first taste of high profile movie reviews. To give you an example of why you can't take them too seriously, here are two reviews from presumably the same movie.

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From the New York Times

By WALTER GOODMAN
Published: August 16, 1985

Take a healthy helping of ''Raiders of the Lost Ark,'' a dollop of ''The Bridge on the River Kwai,'' a dash of any Tarzan movie, a soupcon of ''Casablanca,'' a whiff of ''The Wizard of Oz'' and a stunt or two from a favorite Saturday serial, stir frenetically, and if you're lucky enough to have snappy dialogue by Ken Levine and David Isaacs, you may end up with as funny a movie as ''Volunteers.''

….There are lots of snappy exchanges. ''I thought you wanted to be my friend,'' Beth admonishes when Lawrence makes a pass. He replies, ''This is what I do with my friends.'' In refusing to pay his son's debts, Lawrence's father (George Plimpton) assures him that some day he will thank Dad for the gift of self-reliance and for the opportunity to learn to use a walker. It is a particular pleasure to report that although Lawrence naturally falls in love with Beth and goes through plenty of trouble to save her from being turned into a drug fiend, she does not make a better man of him.

Although the movie, which opens today at the United Artists Twin and other theaters, begins with film clips of icons of the early 1960's - John F. Kennedy, Pope John XXIII, Marilyn Monroe, Ed Sullivan - the spirit is very much of the 80's. But a little melancholy may blend with the laughter ''Volunteers'' draws at the expense of those earnest days when a President was urging people to ask what they could do for their country.

*****
On the other hand….from VARIETY

By VARIETY STAFF

Volunteers is a very broad and mostly flat comedy [from a story by Keith Critchlow] about hijinx in the Peace Corps, circa 1962. Toplined Tom Hanks gets in a few good zingers as an upperclass snob doing time in Thailand, but promising premise and opening shortly descend into unduly protracted tedium.

Hanks plays Lawrence Bourne 3d, an arrogant, snide rich boy from Yale who trades places with an earnest Peace Corps designate when his gambling debts land him in danger at home. Once ensconced in a remote village, contentious couple Hanks and cohort Rita Wilson and ultra do-gooder John Candy set out to build a bridge across a river. Kidnapped and brainwashed by the commies, the gung-ho Candy disappears for a long stretch.

With Candy absent most of the time, Hanks' one-note, if sometimes clever, attitudinizing wears out its welcome after a while. He also is deprived of anyone effective to play off.

Lensed in Mexico, pic features a muddy, truly ugly look. Also present is the most offensively blatant plug for Coca-Cola yet seen in the new era of Coke-owned entertainment companies.

Mary Tyler Moore Show spoof

Here's a great parody of the MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW from SNL in the 80's. The guy doing Lou Grant is not as good as the others but the rest of the cast is dead on.

The greatest 4 second hits

Everyone listens to the radio. Do you ever pay attention to the station jingles? Probably not. But in many cases they're the signature of the station and hearing them again jogs distant memories. For fun I've put together a montage of radio station jingles from the 60s-today (but mostly it's the older stuff). So hop in the Way Back Machine and relive some of your favorite 5 second songs.

Click To Play

No more hour episodes of THE OFFICE! Please!

Half hour shows are supposed to be… a half hour. Twice as long does not make it twice as good. It makes it a quarter more bad. THE OFFICE has been airing hour episodes and if you ask me it’s killing the show. THE OFFICE is normally a snappy show with a lot going on. These hour stanzas have been bloated and uneven. I’m sure it was the network’s idea to do it. Rarely do producers plead to do double the work.

I’ve written hour episodes (or two-parters) for MASH, CHEERS, and FRASIER. And here’s what I’ve learned: They turn out to be 45 minutes worth of story and fifteen minutes of filler. The stories are generally too long to tell in a half hour, not long enough to sustain a full hour.

The “Goodbye Radar” episode could have easily been a half hour. But CBS wanted to make a big “Sweeps” event out of it so we had to concoct this whole generator-going-out business, which did nothing to improve the show.

Often times episodes don’t start out as hours (or two-parters) but the first drafts come in so overloaded with story that you decide to expand them. And then you find it doesn’t expand enough. So you toss in a B-story and just keep going.

Sitcoms have their own rhythm and method of storytelling. Again, to use MASH as an example, we would normally tell two or three stories and pack each scene with as many jokes and quips as we could – to the point where we would often think it’s silly. Radar would enter the Swamp and Hawkeye would have to have a smart remark. I used to say, “What if, just once, and I know this is daring, he just said HELLO?! Y’know, like a normal human being?!” We got away with it in the half hour format but when we stretched the show to an hour the stylistic seams really started showing, and it felt like overkill.

But at the end of the day, these are writing issues and if you expressed them to the network they would laugh. Longer episodes mean more commercial time to sell, something special to promote, and one less half hour of a show that isn’t as popular. And for your series finale they want two hours. They just never realize that by forcing you to do hours along the way they hasten that finale by two or three years.

The LA wildfires

Hello from the giant ashtray that currently is Los Angeles. Our house is okay and thanks to you who have inquired. We live in Westwood, near UCLA, where the only major threat to us is earthquakes so we have great peace of mind.

But the entire region looks like nuclear winter. The sky is an eerie gold. A layer of fine ash is everywhere. The air tastes like stale mesquite. It’s odd to pick up the LA TIMES and for the weather prediction, where it usually says sunny or partly-cloudy or rainy is says “smoky” today.

NBC’s Brian Williams has said the mass evacuation as a result of the fires is the “Largest Peacetime Movement of Americans since the Civil War.” On the other hand, surfers who have been able to get to Malibu have reported that the waves are currently fabulous. Cowabunga, dudes!

Wildfires are a game of Russian Roulette hundreds of thousands play here in Southern California. Especially with real estate prices so high, younger families must move farther and farther away from the city. New communities pop up in remote canyons. Where brush fires once charred empty acreage now they’re threatening countless homes… and lives.

All of us are affected, even those in safe terrains. Eric Pierpoint, one of the actors from my play on Monday night, came to the theater after evacuating his home. My partner’s living room is filled with possessions from a friend who had to evacuate. Many Angelinos have taken in emergency houseguests. Your heart goes out to the over 500,000 whose lives have been disrupted and especially to those who’ve lost their homes and memories.

And there’s nothing you can really do to avoid such natural disasters.

It’s the old story – where you gonna go? After the big ’94 quake many residents considered relocating to a safer part of the world. But just where is that? Who doesn’t have floods, giant snowstorms, hurricanes, tsunamis, droughts, earthquakes, avalanches, pollution, terrorists, monsoons, wildfires, tulie fog, bees?

Needless to say, television and radio news crews have been all over this “National Disaster”. For my money, the best coverage has come from KNX radio’s Dave Williams (pictured left) and KFWB radio’s Jack Popejoy. For all the helicopter views, field reporters, update crawls, and graphics on local TV, there’s still nothing like the immediacy and intimacy of radio. KABC’s coverage has also been excellent. And their promos should win awards.

As for TV, when not stepping aside for ACCESS HOLLYWOOD and WHEEL OF FORTUNE the local stations have provided extensive coverage that ranges from outstanding to idiotic. The usual bobbleheads are filing on-scene reports. This is where you can really separate the reporters from the swimsuit models. Being able to talk on your feet, offer clear concise reports, and answer the often stupid questions from the anchors while on live TV is a talent few possess. Best in LA: Mary Beth McDade from Channel 2.

And then there’s Clete Roberts. No one is or has ever been in his league.

Roberts was the reporter in the famous MASH episode, “The Interview”. But in the 50s he was a local TV news reporter. I remember vividly watching him file a live report from the Benedict Canyon fire. He was composed. He was informative. In the background was a house burning to the ground. His house.

The winds seem to be dying down and the heroic, tireless firefighters are starting to get a handle on things. And always looking for good news, the LA TIMES had this article Wednesday: “The fires could end up being a boon for construction.”

My best wishes and prayers to all affected.

The barbeque of DEATH!!!

As another World Series begins it’s always fun to look back at the season and salute the idiotic injuries players and coaches suffer. My thanks to ESPN’s Jayson Stark for uncovering these.

Bizarre injuries are a baseball tradition as much as the seventh inning stretch. My all-time favorite belongs to Dodger outfielder, Pedro Guerrero. This is a man who was up on a drug charge and the defense pleaded he was too stupid to know what was going on and he won! In 1987 during the Whittier earthquake Pedro decided to evacuate his house. Most people, when caught in that unfortunate situation, retrieve precious family photos, insurance policies, passports, etc. Pedro wrenched his back hauling his priceless big screen TV out to the lawn. The defense rests.

Now for this year’s bonehead casualties:

Raul Ibanez of the Mariners was out for a week in May with a back injury sustained when he tried to get some sleep on the team plane.

This is why I never run: Milwaukee manager, Ned Yost was jogging in Wrigley Field and tripped over a patch of loose concrete. He broke his collarbone.

Somehow in June Washington reliever, Jesus Colome suffered an “abscess on his right buttock”. The team’s General Manager, Jim Bowden is quoted in the Washington Post as saying, “We pray for his buttocks and his family.”

Tampa Bay pitching coach, Jim Hickey hit a golf shot that missed the fairway, caromed off a curb and hit him the eyebrow, requiring surgery for a detached retina. No “Fore-eyes” jokes please.

Forget weapons. There should be an organization dedicated to the prevention of barbeques. They seem to account for a shocking number of baseball mishaps. Phillies centerfielder, Aaron Rowland missed a few games in the summer after “tweaking” his back while playing tag at a BBQ. Cub’s pitcher, Bobby Howry twisted his back carrying a gas grill across his patio. A dry run I’m sure in case he ever has to evacuate.

Meanwhile, Pirates pitcher, Ian Snell burned the tip of his index finger grilling chicken. “Let me just see if it’s done…AAAAAA!!!!”

Red Sox centerfielder, Coco Crisp (for you non-baseball fans, yes, that’s his real name) was struck in the knee by the Mariner Moose mobile. Apparently, the Mariner Moose was not looking where he was going. My guess is he was on a cellphone like every other driver.

And finally, there’s the Milton Bradley saga (again, for you non-baseball fans, I’m not making up these names). He got into an argument with an umpire and when his manager tried to break things up by flinging him to the ground he tore up his ACL. “Yer out!!…for a YEAR.”

Enjoy the World Series. And you might want to boil those hot dogs instead of grilling them.

VIVA LAUGHLIN

There’s a reason most musicals don’t work on film. People in real life, as a rule, don’t break out into song. And there are no orchestras and background choruses on stand-by should they decide they do want to punctuate a conversation with a power ballad. Unless the project is so highly stylized that even Liza Minelli doesn’t think it’s real, musicals in real life settings tend to be well…creepfests.

Seventeen years ago, Steven Bochco decided to do a show combining a police drama and musical theater. It’s like if Reeses’, instead of combining chocolate and peanut butter, combined chocolate and toilet bowl cleanser. COP ROCK was an unmitigated disaster.

Well, I’m proud to announce that COP ROCK is no longer the worst most embarrassing show in the history of television. The monkey is off their back. There is now VIVA LAUGHLIN, so stupendously awful that no show will ever succeed in that time slot for the next 99 years.

In this series they trade cops for a casino operator but it’s the same premise. Actors inexplicably launch into songs and dance numbers. Imagine Warren Beatty in BUGSY suddenly breaking into “I’m a Pepper, You’re a Pepper, Everyone loves Dr. Pepper”. That’s VIVA LAUGHLIN.

It was originally a hit in England but so was THE RICH LIST.

And how does something so utterly absurd get on a major network? Hugh Jackman is one of the executive producers. Network honchos got to have dinner one night with Hugh Jackman – take their picture with him, maybe get him to autograph their cocktail napkins.

I missed the pilot, which I hear was jaw dropping. But I did catch up to episode two (which, considering the ratings) also became the series finale. CBS Berlin called yesterday.

First it started with the now obligatory “Previously on” section (even sitcoms have that now). For three minutes there was this dizzying montage of unrecognizable characters blurting out random phrases. “He’s dead!” “I’ll call her in the morning.” “Did you pick up my cleaning?” “Ace beats a three.” “That Flomax really works!” Thanks. I’m all caught up now.

Then on with the show. Lloyd Owen is the star. Picture Mike Brady’s evil twin who talks like Greg Germann. He speaks in this bad Raymond Chandler dialogue. “Y’know yer problem, you play fair.” And his image as a tough guy isn’t compromised the slightest when he suddenly breaks into “I’m Still Standing” and dances up and down escalators in a pathetic attempt to recreate the Christopher Walken music video.

He has a sidekick. The “Boo Boo” to his “Yogi”. In this case, a schleppy Jewish guy. Who better to fret over the books and debt notices than a Jew? And nice touch having him sing along with “Money, that’s all I want”.

Melanie Griffith (shot lovingly through a filter of cheesecloth) plays a character named Bunny Baxter. That’s really all you need to know except Melanie’s face work came out much better than Candice Bergen’s.

Other names in this series are Nicky Fontana, Jonesy, Ripley, and Cheyenne. It’s as if everyone in Laughlin, Nevada is named after a member of the Village People.

Rounding out the group are Madchen Amick (as long as she doesn’t do comedy I’m in love), some Ryan Seacrest type pretty boy detective, and former U.S. President, Wayne Palmer from 24 (still blending into any background he stands in front of).

The episode began with two detectives spitting out five minutes of the most convoluted exposition I’ve ever heard. It would have been easier for the Nazis to break Navajo codes than to decipher this backstory.

Then an hour of hard-boiled clichés, this Mike Brady/Greg Germann (who leaves visible slime trails wherever he goes) flashy musical numbers sung by people who can’t sing, and the following plotline:

In order to get more people into his establishment, Mike/Greg tries to lure a big high roller from President Palmer’s casino to his. How? By enticing him with a hot chick. Ah, but there’s a delightful twist. He only likes fat chicks. So Mike/Greg enlists the help of an obese employee, who of course doesn’t have a problem with the idea of some weasel she’s never even met sleeping with her. In fact, she’s downright flattered that Mike/Greg asked.

And if that wasn’t scummy and reprehensible enough, there was this exchange of dialogue:

Mike/Greg explains he’d like her to turn on the charm and suck him in and she says, “If he’s that good looking I might do more than suck.”

CLICK.

COP ROCK, please come back! I swear, I’ll never make fun of you again. Or SHOWGIRLS. Or PAINT YOUR WAGON.

Don't cry for me, Ellen DeGeneres

America is divided again. This great nation is again in danger of collapse, ripped apart by another major issue affecting each one of us personally and deeply – Was Ellen DeGeneres to be applauded for crying on television over a little doggie being taken away from a family or is she just a nut? Many claim it was refreshing to see someone on television express genuine emotion. Others think it’s time she admitted herself to the drooling academy. So I ask you, my dear blog readers – as diverse and insane a cross-section of the population as one can find, what do you think?

Was Ellen right to cry over this?

Did the agency also confiscate the dog’s bowl?

Was it okay for New York Yankees radio announcer, Suzyn Waldman to break down and cry on a post game show after the Yankees choked in the playoffs (again!) or did it set women sportscasters back a hundred years?

Can the same agency that took away the doggie (“Iggie”) do the same to Britney Spears’ child?

Were we wrong to think when Ellen was with Ann Heche that she was the stable one?

Should this be a lesson to anyone who “re-gifts”?

Should this be a lesson to anyone who sublets?

Are there worse things in life than this?

Is Katie Couric firing her staff for not thinking of this first?

Will the little dog now get his own daytime show? “Dr. Iggie”

Should Ellen have shown more composure and professionalism and waited until November sweeps to have her meltdown?

Is the dog better off in the new family?

Wouldn't this have made for a great episode of FRASIER?

Or LASSIE?

Can't Ellen just buy the rescue agency?

If Juliet from The Fox Morning Show with Mike & Juliet did the same thing would anybody give a shit?

Do you even know who Juliet is?

And finally…will Ellen DeGeneres become the next Tammy Fay Baker?

Wanna see my play?

I know it's last minute but I'm having a staged reading of my play, UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL Monday night, Oct.22 at the Blank Theater at 6500 Santa Monica Blvd. in Hollywood. It's a very small space with only a handful of tickets left, but if you're interested please go here, to the theater's website. Thanks.

UPFRONTS & PERSONAL
Written By Ken Levine
Directed By Nikki Hevesy
Set in a hotel suite in New York, UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL is a comedy about how studios and writer/producers get their shows on the network fall schedule. It’s a world of competition, deals, deceit, allies, enemies, compromise, sex, love, death, savvy, ageism, ethics, and a fat guy in a Beefeater suit. UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL is a hilarious tragedy on the compromises creative people must make to succeed in television at the risk of losing their souls.

Speaking farce-y

Writing related stuff today.

The Toronto Star just published a blistering expose of the Sitcom Room by one of our first attendees, Rick Whelan. I've got calls in to my lawyers but of course they haven't returned them. By the way, we still have an open seat for Sitcom Room II. If you can be in L.A. November 3 - 4, you might want to grab it before someone else does. Here's where you go. Thanks.

Onward...

One writing question I'm often asked is how are farces constructed? I’m sure fifty different comedy writers would give you fifty different approaches but this is mine.

First off there must be jeopardy. Something the characters need very badly and are willing to go to the greatest lengths to achieve. The situation can be totally absurd to us but to the characters themselves they’re very real. In fact, the greater the jeopardy the crazier they can act.

Secondly, a farce is built on a lie. A character lies and then to keep from getting caught must lie again. The lies multiply, the character digs himself into a deeper hole. And generally, there are several characters forced to lie. Often the lies contradict each other.

Needless to say, this takes careful planning. The structure of a farce is critical. Things have to happen with exact precision. The pressure must never let up. Constant roadblocks must be introduced. Complications on top of more complications. The vice tightens…and tightens…and tightens.

Generally, farces take place in real time. There are no fade outs, no dissolves, no relief. And as the piece builds the pace quickens. If done right, a farce should be a snowball rolling down a hill, gaining momentum and size.

Neil Simon, who wrote the wonderful farce RUMORS, is quoted as saying “At the final curtain, the audience must be as spent as the actors, who by now are on oxygen support. If the audience is only wheezing with laughter, you need rewrites or actors with stronger lungs.”

They’re incredibly tough to pull off but unbelievably satisfying when you do. And for my money, no show ever did them better than FRASIER.