Jeff was the head of programming at CBS.
My show biz “heat” subsequent to the success of Major Dad placed me in the position
where I was offered the opportunity to write two half-hour pilot scripts, one
of which the network would be contractually obligated to produce. This, not particularly imaginatively, is
called a “Two-For-One” deal. The only better deals at that time were a “Guaranteed
Pilot Deal” – where they have to make
your pilot – or a “Guaranteed Series Commitment” – where they have to schedule the show – putting me
two down from the best deal you can have.
And substantially up from
“Tell him I’m not in, and you do not know when I’ll be back.” Which I have also had.
I write the two pilots.
The casting process begins for the lead role in the pilot selected to be
considered first. Remember, in a
“Two-For-One” deal, if the first pilot doesn’t work out, then the other one’s
an automatic “Go.” Truth be told,
however, I liked the first pilot idea better.
(“Spoiler Alert” To My Own Blog Post: My preferred
pilot was turned down; the other pilot was subsequently made, but was not
picked up for series. I like to undercut
my own suspense. No, I don’t. I choose to expose this information here,
because my personal career success is not the central issue of this story.
Yeah, right.
Stop it!
The casting process continues, to find the Lead Character
for The Voice of Firefly – Thumbnail
Synopsis: “A New York television
executive, fleeing the Big City ‘rat race’ finds a job managing a low-powered
television station in (mythical) Firefly, (actual) North Dakota.” You like it?
I did. “Urban-rural conflict, set in a show biz
arena” –
Crank up the cameras, and send the residuals!
After an extensive casting process, as is required, we bring
to the network three candidates for the “Lead Role”, any of whom we’d have been
willing to go forward with, which is important because you never know which of
them the network is going to pick, and then – worst case scenario – you’re
stuck with a leading actor you want to hire a hit-man to “take care of.”
One of our three choices was a charming and experienced sitcom
artiste. The other two were Sherry
Stringfield (later nominated for three Emmy
Awards for her performance on ER)
and Julianna Margulies (later an Emmy
Award winner for ER and an Emmy nominee for every season she was on
the show, and later still, the star
of The Good Wife, and an Emmy Award winner once again.) We – my Universal
Studios partners and myself – went into the “Choices Presentation Meeting”,
convinced that either Julianna or Sherry was a certain “slam dunk” for network
approval.
You may detect where I am going with this. No, Jeff, the CBS head of programming, did not insist we go with our least
favorite of the three candidates.
Instead, Jeff turned them all
down, curtailing any discussion on the matter with the resonating – and still
memorable after twenty years – proclamation:
“I will not have any of those women on my network!”
Of which one of “those women” – for those of you scoring at
home – subsequently won two Emmy Awards,
three Screen Actors Guild Awards, a Golden
Globe Award, plus a bushel full of Emmy
Award and Golden Globe
nominations.
A lot people think Julianna Margulies is pretty good.
But not Jeff.
This story, however, is not about making a mistake. Anybody
can make a mistake, including the head of programming for CBS. Although, let’s be
honest, this was hardly a run-of-the-mill
mistake. We’re not talking “missing the
target” here. We’re talking “aiming with
supreme confidence in the entirely opposite direction.”
This story, however, is also
not about making a monumental mistake.
What it is
is a story about arrogance.
There are, is seems to me, a number of ways that an, albeit
surprising, “No” answer to our submitted selectees could have been delivered. Concerning the proposed casting selections that
he was not onboard with, the less than gracious and humble Jeff could,
alternatively, have said,
“I’m sorry, guys, but I’m just not feelin’ it.”
Or
“They’re terrific, but not for this part.”
Or
“They’re very good, but let me propose somebody I think is
better.”
Or
“It’s a close call. Let
me sleep on it.”
Or – God forbid –
“I have some personal reservations. But I will leave it to the experts.”
There was nothing of that nature. Nothing acknowledging the subjectivity of the
casting process, that would involve honest disagreement. Nothing suggesting the possibility that the
decision-maker may have missed something.
Nothing to indicate that perhaps the people making the shows actually
knew what they were doing and, though certainly not perfect in their
assessments, possessed instincts and experience in this area beyond that of a
Harvard MBA. And, speaking of business
training, nothing that would leave the people with whom he did, and would likely
continue to do, business with the smallest shred of residual dignity.
It was, instead, as if we had delivered for his
consideration, not certifiable gold,
but a steaming sack of malodorous dog poop.
“I will not have those women on my network!”
The smart move is probably, “Forget about it” – file it
away, as a bad day at the office from the dark and distant the past. The thing is, it is not entirely in the past.
Jeff’s words reverberate freshly in my ears whenever I see
Julianna Margulies heading for the podium to accept still another prestigious award.
1 comment:
While Juliana is collecting gold under the watchful eye of CBS, that leaves Jeff, where...Firefly, North Dakota? One can hope.
Incidentally, recently I saw part of an old made-for-TV flick starring a beautiful 32 yr. old Suzanne Pleshette, and co-starring, among many, Peggy Cass. I always liked Peggy cuz she's bright and funny and had a unique voice. I recall that she was in the pilot of Major Dad, but was soon ousted in favor of a much younger, striking blonde. Any stories about casting for MD?
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