Out of Focus

The oldest of them all: The history (and rivalry) between Showtime & HBO (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Showtime)

Each time I interview another cable network programming head, the conversation gets my brain abuzzin' on larger stories among the film and television landscape. As I planned for and spoke to David Nevins for the third interview in this series at Indiewire, I kept thinking about Showtime in relation to HBO, much more so than I did the reverse. Showtime regularly appears to be playing catch-up with its bigger, more powerful rival. But over the last few years, especially as the competition for (as Nevins calls it) "premium television" has expanded well beyond the premium cable networks, the perception of that gap has begun to feel smaller. 

Homeland's first season won the Best Drama Series Emmy last year, and if not for the rabid excitement over Breaking Bad dominating the television firmament, I would bet on it repeating. Ray Donovan, meanwhile, has been another huge hit for Showtime, generating viewership upwards of 5 million (across all showings and platforms) each week, which approaches Game of Thrones and True Blood territory.

 I started thinking about the evolution of these rival networks, both among the oldest channels in the cable universe. In fact, Home Box Office – launched in 1972 – became the first cable network with national distribution in 1975. But Showtime? ESPN, CNN and MTV: All three were established and appeared on cable boxes after Showtime, in 1979, 1980 and 1981 respectively. Cable systems around the country began carrying Showtime in 1978, less than two years after its 1976 launch. That national reach was only bested by Ted Turner who created his "superstation" WTBS (at the time a local Atlanta station called WTCG) in Dec. 1976 by beaming it via satellite to still evolving local cable providers.

At the time, the cable universe was small. I remember our first cable box around 1980 had a lever that slid horizontally with numbers going up to 13 (mimicking the VHF stations) and then switching to letters A through Z. We didn't have 39 channels to start, but I remember all the over-the-air stations moving to that 1-13 spectrum and cable-only networks being in the letters. Channel 44? You're now channel 12. (As my Brady Bunch station, that was pretty important.) Channel 36 from San Jose? Hello San Francisco; we could now see it on channel 6. (For what it's worth, I wouldn't put money on these lineup memories … other than KBHK-44 definitely became channel 12!)

Cable provided better reception and a guarantee of never having to worry about your antenna. Plus, some public access stations developed along with regional broadcasters. And then there was HBO and Showtime. 

The changing landscape of cable channels & their programming (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Sundance Channel)

In the second of my interviews with cable network programming heads for Indiewire, I spoke with President and General Manager of Sundance Channel, Sarah Barnett. Sundance Channel made noise earlier this year with the premiere of Jane Campion's limited series Top of the Lake and the six-episode first season of Rectify. Both received a great deal of critical love, and while to date Sundance has not been in the practice of releasing its ratings (something that will change as of Sept. 30 when they transition to a more traditional ad-supported model), Rectify obviously accomplished the necessary goals as it will be returning for a 10-episode second season next year.

I was most interested in Barnett's thoughts about Sundance Channel's identity, especially in relation to its name since it no longer has any direct relationship to Robert Redford, the Sundance Film Festival nor the Sundance Film Institute. The discussion also got me thinking about the larger cable landscape and the overall idea of niche programming. In the 1990s as the cable universe began expanding, almost every new channel served a very distinct purpose and targeted very specific demos. Certainly, many cable channels continue to do so. The various Scripps Networks (Food Network, DIY, HGTV) and several of the Discovery channels (Animal Planet, Discovery Fit & Health, Military Channel) are probably the best examples, but MTV is far from the only network that seems to have strayed for from its original, narrower mission.

Examining a few of the names of a number of channels across the cable landscape provides the simplest example at how many have rebranded in an attempt to distance themselves from their original niche programming.

• AMC originally stood for "American Movie Classics," which is precisely what they showed – uncut, unedited movie classics. Then they lost a huge chunk of their library licensing to Turner Classic Movies and were forced to change course. Now, they're a leader in the new form of series television and they rarely get truly "classic" in their movie selection.
• TLC (owned by Discovery) was "The Learning Channel," but I'm not sure what there is to learn from Toddlers and Tiaras or its even more popular offspring Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. Their programming now focuses completely on manufactured "reality" shows with an emphasis on fashion, weddings, pregnancy and family stories.
• The History Channel never changed its name, and certainly its first steps towards scripted programming (their first series Vikings, which returns next year for a second season as well as the miniseries The Bible and Hatfields & McCoys) seem to have tried to stay within a historical focus. However, achieving the most success for the channel have been shows such as Pawn Stars, Ax Men, American Pickers and Ice Road Truckers.
• A&E always lived by those initials but originally they originally were shorthand for the "Arts & Entertainment Network." Originally, it's programming resembled what one might find on PBS – some British TV and performing arts specials – as well as reruns of some popular primetime series. Eventually, the "arts" part of A&E diminished significantly and its stable focused more on reality series like Dog the Bounty Hunter and crime documentary shows like The First 48. Their biggest hit now – and arguably the most successful show on all of television, not just cable – is Duck Dynasty, a reality series about a family from Louisiana that became millionaires due to their duck call for duck hunters.
• The TV Guide Channel has little to do with TV Guide anymore, and while E! Entertainment Television still contains an entertainment news posture, its bread and butter comes from celebrity-focused reality shows, especially those centering around the Khardashians,

And of course, there's IFC, which began its life as The Independent Film Channel. When it launched in 1994, independent film – unedited and uncut – was what they broadcast. By 1994, the indie film explosion was reaching its peak. The Sundance Film Festival and many of the films and filmmakers premiering there had received mainstream attention, especially among college-aged audiences: Steven Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape in 1989; Reginald Hudlin's House Party, Whit Stillman's Metropolitan and Norman René's Longtime Companion in 1990;  Richard Linklater's Slacker and Todd Haynes's Poison in 1991; and arguably the breakout year of 1992 which featured Allison Anders's Gas, Food Lodging, Tom DiCillo's Johnny Suede (starring a now-famous from Thelma & Louise Brad Pitt), Neal Jimenez & Michael Sternberg's The Waterdance, and most notably, Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs.

Is the "Third Golden Age of Television" the new '90s Indie Film phenomenon? Let's talk to some cable execs and find out!

 

Perry SImon of BBC America

What a great way to start a (Jewish) New Year: For some time now, I've been working on putting together a series of interviews with cable network programming heads for Indiewire. Today, they published the first of these: my chat with BBC America General Manager Perry Simon.

As I write in the intro to the Perry Simon interview, BBC America has made a huge splash in the original programming arena in just the past 18 months. They've gone two-for-two with Copper and Orphan Black, receiving plaudits from both critics and audiences. They seem to be at the tip of the iceberg with Orphan Black, which built a steady fanbase during its initial broadcast, but should see a major audience uptick when the second season hits in the spring due to all the notoriety it – and its phenomenal and talented star Tatiana Maslaney – has received in the months since its first run. Simon described BBC America's approach as "very auteur oriented," so it should be fascinating to see what kinds of series the channel presents next.

Eight years ago, I regularly conducted interviews for Gothamist, which always comprised several questions I asked everyone along with another set of questions tailored specifically for that subject. I've approached this series the same way. I have a few other interviews completed or scheduled; they should be published over the coming weeks, and I continue arranging more.

I raised this idea with Indiewire TV Editor Alison Willmore not long after she established the site's television coverage, but I didn't have the time to work on it then. Television has gone through such a shift over the past decade, and I thought it coincided with, and arguably benefited from, the end of the 1990s indie film explosion. At the 1989 Sundance Film Festival, Steven Soderbergh's first feature Sex, Lies, and Videotape became the Big Bang of a new era for independent film that peaked by the mid-1990s. But by the turn of the millennium, "independent film" described a perceived – often artificial – aesthetic much more than it did a form or method of production.

Studying The Brady Bunch finally pays off

Today Indiewire published a piece I wrote about the portrayal of kids coming-of-age on The Brady Bunch. It's the third in a series of five stories they're running this week to mark tomorrow night's launch of Participant Media's exciting new cable network pivot. As I think about all those afternoons trying to one-up my UCLA Daily Bruin colleagues in Brady trivia 20 years ago, I certainly never realized that one day my encyclopedic knowledge of most-things-Brady would actually come in handy.

I was a typical latch-key kid of the '70s and '80s, so my addiction to television should surprise no one. I had several afterschool television companions. Had you asked me when I was seven or eight to name my favorite show, I likely would have said channel 2's Captain Cosmic. But the show I ultimately absorbed and knew most intimately was absolutely The Brady Bunch, which aired its repeats on rival channel 44.

I'll admit it: I loved the Bradys. My parents divorced when I was four, and neither remarried until I was 13. I had no siblings, and even my two first cousins closest to my age lived out of the country until I was nine. I split time between each of my parents' San Francisco apartments: Mom in the Richmond, Dad bordering Golden Gate Park in the Sunset. The Brady Bunch presented a situation I could recognize and I suppose realistically long for even though it was pretty removed from my own.

I've never been someone who possesses instant recall of movies, television, theater or music. People will quote a song lyric or a line from a film and then be surprised -- or even disappointed -- that I can't identify it. I'm still that way. I tend to remember my feelings and reactions to the overall story more than the intricacies of plot or individual lines themselves.

However, that was never true with The Brady Bunch. By the time I arrived at UCLA in 1988, even though I had stopped regularly watching the Bradys years earlier, I realized that I could identify almost every episode within its first 10-15 seconds. The initial post-credits shot, background music and first few seconds of the first scene often were enough for me to know whether Marcia was about to get hit in the face with a football or Greg was about to "fit the suit" and turn into Johnny Bravo. When I became involved with the Daily Bruin, I met a few other people with Brady obsessions, and thus began the aforementioned trivia battles.