Showrunners Vs. Creators (Part Two)

                                  Showrunners vs. Creators (Part Two)

 

I have been hired to run six different TV shows created by six different writers of varying degrees of talent and temperament. I don’t keep in touch with any of them. That should tell you something right there. Even Darren Starr, whom I like quite a bit and had once hoped to cultivate more of a professional relationship in our post zip code lives, has stopped replying to my e-mails of late. Could it have been something I said?

 

What I did say during virtually every showrunner interview I ever had was that I saw my main creative function as supporting “the creator’s vision”. And given that my underlying approach to writing a script or running a show is finding a way to “steal from the best”, I tend to be very collaborative and don’t really care where a story idea or a line of dialogue comes from, including coming from a creator. And, unlike many showrunners who have the power of the final typewriter, I am not an inveterate rewriter. To this end, when giving notes, I try to make what is already on the page work rather than toss everything out and start over.  In other words, creators should have loved working with me – but none of them did. In fact, with only one exception (Thank you, Tommy Lynch) every creator I worked with tried to get me fired (90210, Dawson’s Creek) succeeded in getting me fired (Fantasy Island) left the show rather than work with me (Leap Years), or found a way to sandbag the show in an effort to retain the illusion of power (Wind on Water). Why?  

 

Well, part of the ennui between creators and showrunners is endemic to rigors and different functions of each job. Creators often have a tough time accepting that the process of developing stories and getting scripts filmed is nothing like the private daydreams of awards banquets and acceptance speeches that pop up between dialogue passages when the creator is facing the blank page. In that fantasy, there was no other writer questioning the value of a 2/8ths of a page scene set at a distant location – at night! And there always is the suspicion by the creators that the showrunner didn’t have the talent or the juice to get their own shows launched, while skilled showrunners secretly (and maybe not so secretly) resent the career trajectory “of the new kid in town” . And, of course, as in all things show business, money, status, ego, bad childhoods, jealousies, and fear factor into the dynamic.

 

I had originally thought this post would chronicle the unfortunate moments I had with the creators on every show I ran in a breezy, post-modern style that would make it seem that I have moved on. I actually wrote three candid paragraphs about some of the douzies Darren and I got into during the first months of 90210 – until we both accepted that it was in our interest as well as the show’s interest – for us to get along and work together. 1991 was an extraordinary, history making year for 90210 as we went from obscurity to the cover of the Rolling Stone. Darren was a huge reason for that success – and I know he would say (and has said) the same about me…but I guess there will always be a few scars from the creator/showrunner split. Nonetheless, I always like receiving a friendly e-mail from him, always reply, always say let’s get together – and hope that one of these days we get to hang out. Who knows? It might be in both of our interest.

The War Between Showrunners vs Creators (Part One)

I know a politically adept Showrunner, a real pro, who was hired to replace an Up-and- Coming showrunner on a new, big deal, cable show with lots of promise and lots of hype, after the Up and Comer was let go for “creative differences” with the show’s First Time Creator. Eventually, the politically adept Showrunner righted the ship, supported the First Time Creator’s and the network’s “vision” for the show, and surprised everyone once the show got picked up for Season Two by announcing he was moving on.

Eight months later, the politically adept Showrunner has been rehired (at a nice salary bump) with a mandate to clean house and bring in a brand new staff for Season Two now that the First Time Creator has been dumped. Multiple sources have described this particular Creator as “uncommunicative” “difficult” “protective” “political” and “not a very good writer”.  Clearly, the Creator used whatever clout and good will that had been amassed with the network execs to get the Up-and-Comer fired - but that was before much film was shot, and before the reality of so-so ratings would set in….so by the time an SOS went out to the Showrunner, the writer’s room had devolved into chaos, the cast had expressed concerns about the new scripts (and direction) for the second season, and the network/studio got fed up with dealing with the “not so stable” Creator.

The gamesmanship/rifts between showrunners and creators really started to take shape in the early-mid 90’s when certain network executives/star fuckers (hello, cbs; hello, fox) sought out feature players (writers, directors, producers) as well as New York playwrights (both established and upcoming) under the guise of bringing “fresh voices” into the development process — when the truth was they wanted to hang out with a cooler crowd and plan for their post prime time careers. Such luminaries as Spike Lee, Martin Scorsese, the Scott Brothers, would often get their pilots green lit at the script stage because of their big screen auspices. While the vast majority of these pure bred projects would fall apart once the feature folks found out they weren’t too crazy with TV pay days and the level of network/studio interference, a few would be make it onto the schedule…

…and so would begin the search for a showruunner to guide the movie director/quirky playwright/fresh voice through the much harder, much more disciplined, series process. At some point, the showrunner will probably have some creative notes, and depending on how those notes are communicated, and the thinness of the skin of the communicate-tee, chances are a “him or me” ultimatum will be laid down…and when that happens the execs usually side with the “fresh voice” (or the more expensive feature player with the ‘play or pay’ deal)…and before long, the (expendable, lesser paid) showrunner will be revising his or her resume, hopefully after being paid all $$ still owed.

Next week I’ll relive the mostly dismal working relationships I’ve had with various creators - which will probably help explain why I started writing and producing @showbizzle.com with my daughter Lindsey. Check it out. See ya next time.

Show Me The Money and Leave Me Alone

You’d think that what would be remembered about my first day as a first time showrunner of 90210 would have something to do with Aaron Spelling. After all, he was the legendary and mercurial embodiment of prime time Hollywood who, for better or worse, ultimately would change my career in virtually every conceivable way. But it’s the brief follow up conversation I had with Jules Haimovitz, a fast talking COO with a hustler’s sense of the possible who was working 24/7 to keep Spelling’s production company from going belly up, that still resonates with me. Haimovitz, invited me to stop by his office for a private, get acquainted chat – and after some bullshitty pleasantries, Jules looked me over and gleefully announced that he was about to say something to me that he could tell no one had ever said to me before. And what he said was, “YOU ARE MANAGEMENT!”

Jules was right. No one had ever, ever confused a left of center, jeans and sneakers, Cal Berkeley guy like me for executive material.

Well, that’s not quite true. Right after grad school, Norman Brokaw, a major agent/owner of the William Morris, did extend an offer to join the agency’s training program, but that was mostly a favor for my father, a prominent LA physician, who was still hoping anyone could convince me to get a real job instead of pursuing this fantasy about being a writer. Believe me — it wasn’t because Brokaw saw me as a promising dealmaker.

And Spelling and Fox didn’t hire me on 90210 to make deals – and yet, deals were made – and I found out I had an affinity for making them. It’s part of being the showrunner – you get to see the $$. You are management. You instantly become Republican – especially if you get to own a piece of the show. Then, bringing the show in on time and at budget, really matters – and sometimes can temper some creative impulses. I always felt that bringing shows in on budget buys creative freedom – or, at least, the confidence to take that position with rascals and the suits.

But now with showbizzle being on budget has a whole new meaning. Going indy @showbizzle.com did buy my daughter Lindsey and I creative freedom, but can indy’s withstand the slow down?  – time will tell…

Why Do TV Executives Suck Worse than Ever? (Part Two)

Creative writer/producer/showrunner types complaining about ‘the suits’ is nothing new.  In some ways, the kvetching is what binds the profession – the innate feeling of superiority knowing that you can do something they can’t – getting paid for writing. Resentments can build. Personalities can clash. It’s always been that. But that doesn’t explain why so many of today’s veteran showrunners describe a toxic atmosphere of micro-management and second guessing.

Back in the 80’s, just before the three network hegemony would be eroded by cable, creator/showrunners like Steven Bocho (Hill Street Blues; LA Law), Josh Brand and John Falsey (St. Elsewhere; A Year in The Life) Glenn Caron (Moonlighting) had the clout to stake a creative boundary line where executives with notes were considered trespassers. A few years later, during my tenure at 90210, I quickly took the position that as long as I was bringing the episodes in at budget I get to take a little creative latitude.   Today — not so much freedom, not so much fun for the showrunner or the executives. I have a few theories as to why “it lost its sparkle, you know, it isn’t the same”, which I list in no particular order of importance.

Repeal of The Financial Syndication Rules –

I voted for Bill Clinton twice, but he really messed up by deregulating the broadcasting industry by not opposing the 1996 FCC rule change to allow networks to own their entertainment programming. So the buyers and the sellers in effect, became one-and-the-   same. So instead of reacting to projects created by creative people, the networks actively began generating their own show ideas. And why not? They know their needs and their budget realities, but a corporate mentality is not consistent with the spontaneity and risk taking inherent in the creative process.

The Changing Market Place

Network television still generates big, big numbers compared with everything else, but its audience is fragmenting, and On Demand DVR systems is permanently altering when (and how) an audience can view its favorite network programs – and yeah, networks still dominate pop culture because of their marketing skills and budgets, but scripted fare costs a lot to produce – so the need to control the budget process, the need to find the hit show, the need not to get blamed, and do whatever it takes to survive and get to the next level is what motivates today’s executives – not creative execution or independent thought. Fear can paralyze even the best of instincts and intentions.

Digital Technology

If everyone in every department has access to same information and photographs and dailies at the same time, then everyone can form an opinion and feel compelled to share that opinion with the showrunner. Clearly, technology benefits production by allowing information to spread quickly, and cut down on travel time, but too much scrutiny and detail works can bog down the creative process while demoralizing the spirit and confidence of the showrunner.
 
An Impersonal World 

I remember in ’95 being appalled that CBS wanted to give me their notes on my script on the phone instead of being invited to sit across from the executives who bought the project in the first place. I had been developing network pilots for 15 years – and to lose the personal touch seemed like a sea change. Is it any wonder that twelve years later we have a generation of executives with bad manners and limited social skills? Unreturned phone calls and e-mails returned as spam, is not a great way to do business, or go through life.

Since all roads lead back to showbizzle.com, the website and new interactive paradigm for digital entertainment that I created with my 23 year old daughter Lindsey, I must confess that one of the main reasons I am trying to stay as an independent content publisher is so I have never have to be micro-managed again.