Darwin Doesn’t Have a Prayer

Though Charles Darwin died in 1882, his theory of evolution lives on, though you wouldn’t necessarily think so after studying the world of network television.

For those who nodded off in class, skipped school or obliterated their long-term memories by watching “WWF Smackdown!,” Darwin’s concept of natural selection posits that the fittest of a species will survive and pass on their powerful attributes to heirs. The competition for scarce resources, meanwhile, winnows the weak and infirm out of the gene pool.

Darwin might have revised this premise had he lived long enough to view the 1999-2000 season’s herd of new TV programs, most of which are making their debut this week.

Certainly, some of Darwin’s principles apply to the selection process for TV shows. The resource--in this case, a prime-time slot on a network--is definitely scarce, and an elaborate screening procedure does indeed take place.

Each network develops several hundreds scripts every year, picking a few dozen to turn into pilots, prototypes for new series. Of those, a mere half-dozen or so are bought by each network to premiere in the fall.

Given those odds, one might rightfully expect only healthy, vibrant shows would be among the new comedies and dramas to make the cut--those entries pristine and brilliant enough to impress jaded network executives--while ill-conceived plots and subpar casts fall by the wayside.

The simple truth, however, is that numerous prime-time shows scheduled each year don’t pass muster in the eyes of their respective networks, much less in the eyes of grumpy old TV critics. This is evident in the amount of re-shooting, recasting and retooling that goes on every summer, which can get pretty re-diculous if you take the time to think about it.

Several of this season’s pilots have been junked or have undergone reconstructive surgery since being announced in May as additions to the fall lineup. These include “Time of Your Life,” a Fox show featuring Jennifer Love Hewitt; “Snoops,” producer David E. Kelley’s new lead-in to his award-winning “The Practice” on ABC; and “Manchester Prep,” a Fox show very tentatively due to arrive in December.

Two shows built in part around romantic chemistry were apparently OK except for little things, you know, like one of the lead characters. Thus, the WB’s “Jack & Jill” has a new Jack (that’s the girl, get it?), and CBS’ “Love & Money”--about a New York building super in love with one of the upper-crust residents--didn’t care enough for its male lead to keep him on the payroll.

Comedian Mike O’Malley wrote a memo in which he suggested that the producers scrap his new Tuesday night NBC sitcom and start over. Another pair of shows, UPN’s “Secret Agent Man” and ABC’s “Then Came You,” had their premieres delayed indefinitely.

Hearing about this has to be aggravating to those people whose projects weren’t ordered and especially maddening for the countless others on the outside looking in, convinced that they have the right stuff to be the next David E. Kelley if only they could land themselves an agent or get through any of the necessary doors.

Keep in mind, by the way, that each of these programs represents a multimillion-dollar investment and a year out of some producer’s life. Given the sifting that goes on, wouldn’t you think that each of the six networks could find a handful that don’t need to be put through a Cuisinart before being deemed fit for broadcast?

How can this happen if Darwin’s principle is really at work? And if this is what networks choose to put on the air, warts and all, what horrible two-headed things must the rest of the candidates have been?

The answer comes in three parts: (a) to paraphrase screenwriter William Goldman, no one in Hollywood knows anything, so everything is subjective; (b) too many decisions are made out of fear rather than to try to please an audience; and (c) Darwin notwithstanding, the fittest don’t always survive in the TV business. Sorry, Charlie.

Programs, rather, get on the air for reasons that have nothing to do with their fitness or quality. These range from the producer’s creative pedigree to, perhaps most insidious, back-room financial deals and control of the syndication rights.

In short, salmon swimming upstream don’t have media moguls like Michael Eisner and Rupert Murdoch standing on the riverbank, dictating that the fates give a little extra help to that little salmon over there--you know, the one wearing Mickey Mouse ears or a “Property of 20th Century Fox” T-shirt.

Yet even if executives have to favor certain concepts to mollify corporate bosses, that doesn’t explain why these shows get rushed onto the air. It’s mind-boggling to realize that, with all the money, talent and research available to them, programmers keep finding themselves frantically trying to pull some show together weeks before its scheduled premiere.

The corporate equivalent of this would be for McDonald’s to set a date for introducing a new hamburger before deciding exactly what it would be. The discussion would go something like this: “It’ll have meat, cheese and a bun. Start taking out ads, we’ll figure out the name and the rest of it as we go.”

This is almost precisely what Fox did with “Time of Your Life,” inspired by Hewitt--red-hot from “Party of Five” and the “I Know What You Did Last Summer” films--to buy the show despite reports that executives hated the initial version. In essence, they slapped this stunning young actress on a bun, proudly announced their product and then sought to ascertain what the garnishes would be.

Is there a solution? For starters, why spend a frenzied few months trying to get shows right? Take a year if you need to. Heck, take two or three years. It’s not as if the audience can disappear any faster than it is already.

So how would Darwin view this ritual were he still around? Actually, television would probably be the least of his concerns, because he would immediately find himself under siege from Creationists who discount his theory--believing that God created everything and that Darwin’s natural laws don’t apply.

From a TV perspective, they have a point. In fact, if this fall’s prime-time lineup is any indication, it might be time for the networks to give up on their approach to natural selection and start praying for a little divine intervention.

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Brian Lowry’s column appears on Tuesdays. He can be reached by e-mail at brian.lowry@latimes.com.