For TV Shows, Success Isn’t Always in the Stars

It’s a television story you could write virtually any year: A bunch of sitcoms debut, and the most promising ones, according to the networks promoting them, have brand names attached. Take, to be perfectly arbitrary about it, the 1991-92 season: NBC had James Garner in “Man of the People,” ABC had “Sibs,” from filmmaker and TV uber-creator James L. Brooks, and CBS had Carol Burnett resurrecting a variety series. The eventual hit on the schedule that year? “Home Improvement,” featuring the domestic antics of a stand-up comic named Tim Allen.

This year’s version of the old industry saw that “stars don’t make shows, shows make stars” is “Yes, Dear,” a breakout hit for CBS. Meanwhile, the star vehicles, somewhat predictably, have fallen short of their hype, and two have now been canceled. Last week, NBC axed “The Michael Richards Show,” and on Wednesday Fox canceled “Normal, Ohio,” starring John Goodman, ex of “Roseanne.” CBS’ “Bette” and “The Geena Davis Show” on ABC both have been picked up for a full season by their respective networks, but each is struggling and will likely be hard-pressed to earn a second season if matters don’t improve.

Yet even if Bette Midler and Geena Davis join Goodman and Richards in not making it to a sophomore year, don’t look for the networks to break off a love affair with the system that lands them in prime time to begin with. Stars, after all, draw immediate attention--an invaluable commodity when networks are promoting their new lineups amid a clutter of entries.

“This is on the list of things that Hollywood learns a million times a year and nothing changes,” says one high-level television executive, speaking on condition of anonymity. “The same thing happens in features all the time, [the attitude of] ‘Let’s go back to the same stars because we think they’re bankable.’ ”

Of course, as many note, the failure rate for shows without stars is just as great as for those with them. But if the adage is true that stars don’t make shows, stars do at least make pilots--lots of them--and stars do get shows on the air, however flawed the result. To be sure, the star power of both Richards and Goodman kept their respective shows alive during revisions that suggested the core ideas behind their sitcoms were malleable. “Normal, Ohio” was initially made as an “Odd Couple” twist (Goodman was gay, roommate Anthony LaPaglia was straight) before a new cast and concept were assembled. Similarly, Richards starred in a single-camera pilot that was thrown out, at a cost of more than $1 million, and a supporting cast was subsequently thrown together to give the show a more ensemble feel.

“The Michael Richards Show,” in which Richards played private detective Vic Nardozza, was almost universally disliked once television critics finally got a look at it. Viewers abandoned the show in droves after its premiere in October, but the series ultimately was just mediocre--hardly a distinguishing characteristic in a field choked with such shows.

But the guy who drew tremendous interest because of his history as Kramer on “Seinfeld” became the guy earning what insiders put at around $200,000 an episode with a guarantee of 13 such payments. He was also the guy who couldn’t justify the estimated $1.2-million license fee NBC was paying for the series, considerably more than what networks shell out for most freshman sitcoms.

Richards, Writers at Odds Over Scripts

When the show failed to click in the ratings, then, NBC had an incentive to cut its losses. The cost of the series also factored into the thinking at Warner Bros. Television and its corporate sibling Castle Rock Television, which produced the show. A less expensive show might have been given a little more time to find itself, but “that’s one of the hidden things about the big star returning--it’s expensive,” says an industry executive.

Of course, there were plenty of other star-related headaches to hasten the show’s demise. From the outset, Richards, his writers and NBC were under close scrutiny as the first show featuring a “Seinfeld” co-star trying his hand at a new sitcom. Under these fishbowl conditions, Richards was on edge from the start--a tension that was exacerbated by the rain of bad reviews.

Richards complained to his writers and various executives about what he perceived to be the poor quality of the scripts, which were overseen by Gregg Kavet, Andy Robin and Spike Feresten (not to mention Richards himself). Much was made of the fact that the three executive producers, or “show runners,” had worked with Richards on “Seinfeld,” but at “Seinfeld” scripts were rewritten and vetted by the show’s co-creators, Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld, and junior-level staff writers were generally left at a remove from collaboration with “Seinfeld’s” core cast.

This meant there was a getting-to-know-you stage for Robin, Kavet, Feresten and Richards. Feresten was forced out a month ago. Meanwhile, Richards, something of an intense artist, wrestled with how best to summon his inner comic in creating private detective Nardozza. He wanted, say insiders, to invent a persona worthy of one of his comic heroes, Jacques Tati, the French comic and poetic klutz of such classics as “Mr. Hulot’s Holiday,” a reference that seemed a tad esoteric for network TV.

At “Seinfeld,” Richards had had the luxury of sculpting Kramer over nine seasons. Now, he was under a deadline to determine who he wanted to be, a deadline that had already passed, really. Slapstick--and certain Krameresque fallback gestures--would have to do. Most of the industry felt that he was a marvelous supporting player (“second banana” is the pejorative tag) but not a lead, and his show’s flailings appeared to confirm that bias. Amid this atmosphere, last-minute rewrites were routine and new writers were brought in. “Michael was very vociferous at times about the quality of the material he was getting,” is how one source puts it. Richards himself declined comment.

To TV writers, anecdotes like the ones emerging from the “Michael Richards” set are nothing new, especially with big-name stars. Indeed, Richards, Midler and Davis are all executive producers on their shows, a title that has become more standard in recent years and which tends to inspire dread in a writer’s gut. Though aligning with stars and figuring out how best to package them is the quickest way for a writer-producer to get a network’s green light, writers say it can often be a Faustian bargain, both financially and creatively.

“You give the star power and that’s just another person to get involved in the [writing] process,” says a veteran of star-driven sitcom vehicles. “That to me is where the problem really escalates. They come from an actor’s place--as in, ‘I don’t really have enough to do here,’ when it has nothing to do with the story.”

Nobody, perhaps, is more ideally suited to the image of an ego-driven diva bedeviling her writers than Midler. Like “Geena,” which drew an impressive 17.3 million viewers in its debut, the “Bette” premiere drew 15.7 million viewers, but for November the show averaged less than 10 million viewers, according to Nielsen Media Research.

CBS had an eminently promotable name out of the gate, but the show has failed to maintain that momentum. Kevin Dunn, the actor playing Midler’s husband, will leave the series, and there have been hints the star herself isn’t enthusiastic about being there. Midler caused a minor PR brush fire recently when, during an appearance on “Late Show With David Letterman,” she compared doing her sitcom to being “a dung beetle pushing this ball of dung up a mountain.”

Midler, who has since said those comments were made in jest, declined comment. But Bonnie Bruckheimer, one of the show’s executive producers and Midler’s producing partner, chalks up the situation to Midler’s impetuous personality and a media hungry for celebrity dish. Of “Bette,” in which Midler plays an entertainer not unlike herself, Bruckheimer says the producers are looking at “what works and what doesn’t,” and she disputes the notion that Midler’s executive-producer status has adversely affected the product.

“This is a character that is loosely based on her real life. How would she not be an executive producer? How would she not have a say in what comes out of her mouth?”

Such is the climate for new star vehicles that “Geena” is apparently the healthiest one, despite lukewarm reviews, plot lines that can strain credulity and ratings that make it something less than a hit. Still, the show’s defenders note that “Geena” is retaining a respectable percentage of its Tuesday night lead-in, “Dharma and Greg,” among the young adults most sought by advertisers. The show is also produced by the television division of Disney, which owns ABC.

It’s not the Emmy, but it’ll do for now.