CBC to Haddock: Mommy Has Other Kids, Too.

I'VE UPDATED my entry below about Intelligence to include a link to the Tyee's letter from Jeff Keay from CBC, talking about the show.

As I've said to several reporters who've raised the issue with us (presumably in response to Chris's attempts to negotiate through the media his relationship with the CBC:

We have not yet made a decision as to whether we'll continue with the show; when we do, Chris will be the first to know. That's precisely as it should be.

We're happy to see Chris remains a passionate supporter of his show, which we happen to think is pretty good. We're disappointed he feels he's not being adequately promoted (but at same time doubt there's a producer in the history of show business who thinks their program HAS been adequately promoted). And with all due respect to Chris, his is not the only program in our schedule that requires promotion. I can tell you that the program has received significant promotion in both its first and second seasons. It will continue to do so through its season finale;

Given that our promotional budgets (regrettably) are not infinite, we have put a plan in place that matches resources against our various programs in ways that will generate the most impact (i.e. in specific targeted markets) and that ensure that we're taking a strategically planned approach to our overall schedule. We're happy to report that it's working.

Whereever you come down on the issue, I'm with the CBC on one thing on this: this is not something that should be playing out in the media. There is precious little space available in our American dominated mediasphere for stories on Canadian shows as it is. Sucking the air away for a process story about a producer's griping is a bit unseemly.

Stories about spies praising the show, on the other hand -- that's kinda cool.

Checking in with the Mosque at Christmas

IF YOU WERE one of the two million who initially checked out Little Mosque on the Prairie for the curiosity factor, and one of the million two or three who've drifted away since, this week is a good time to check back.

Wednesday night at 8pm on CBC, two back-to-back special episodes offer strong evidence how Mosque has found its feet this season. There's sweet family stuff, for sure, but also some solid comedy storytelling -- and a confidence of presentation that was often missing from the first season's eps.

In the first season of Mosque, they'd occasionally offer up Muslim-centric situations that could be funny - like a debate about whether to have a barrier in the mosque or a search for Muslim swimming gear - but weren't. It's almost like gold stars were due just for putting it on screen, and there wasn't a lot of room left for funny.

The subtle but important evolution of the show is put to good use in the two special episodes, Eids a Wonderful Life, and 5 Year Plan.

In the current iteration of Mosque, the main characters are good natured, well meaning townspeople who face the problems we all face -- and who just happen to be Muslims.

Believe it or not, that's a very important difference. It winds up making the show more inclusive, and welcoming all at once.

In the first episode, Eids A Wonderful Life, Sarah (Sheila McCarthy) is missing a few of the trappings of Christmas that she's been without since she married Yasir and converted to Islam. Simultaneously, we learn that this year, the Islamic holiday of Eid al-Adha falls close to Christmas. The mosque plans its annual Eid dinner the same night as Rev. Magee's Christmas Carolly Ring Ding Sing a Long.

There's a fight over parking. And Rayann and Sarah get a little carried away with trying to spruce up the Eid dinner with some Christmas decorative touches.

In the other plot, Layla and Babur quarrel when Layla is asked to read from A Christmas Carol at her school holiday concert. Babur suggests they inject a story of Eid, and the eager-to-be-inclusive Principal (Patrick McKenna, in a funny turn) jumps at the idea.

Even the character of Fatima -- who I was lukewarm on back in January, does nice work with a special little co-star.

What's nice about the episode is the way it deals with some pretty universal themes -- the way that non-Christians sometimes feel looking at all the pomp and accoutrements of the Christmas celebration, and how little quarrels become big ones. And it's not like there are Muslim jokes missing. Amar gets a joke off about who would have thought that Christians and Muslims couldn't live side by side in peace. (He's talking about Parking,) and in the Babur and Layla subplot, they have a lot of fun (but respectful fun) about the difficulties of dramatizing a Muslim story when you can't depict the prophet on stage. (It's funnier than it sounds.)

Sure, there are a couple of sweaty jokes -- like the machinations needed to get Babur into an outfit where he looks like Santa (entirely by accident,) but on the whole, it's a feel good half hour that will make you laugh a little and smile a lot.

As I said on Q last week, one of the things I love most about Canada is that we're so inclusive, we'll do a Christmas special for people who don't celebrate Christmas. And that's true, far as it goes. The better Christmas treat is that what started out as a show about how Muslims were different and viewed differently, has become a show about a community -- where the people at the centre of that community are utterly recognizable, though they have slightly different beliefs.

In the end, everything comes together and there's even a touch that seems cheesy, but so isn't. Go on. I dare you not to feel warm when you hear "Peace Train." Let that bounce around on several levels.

The second show, 5 Year Plan, involves everyone's reminiscences of what they were doing five years ago. We get to see Amar as a lawyer in Toronto, living with his overbearing parents (and we get a taste of a great Bollywood style dance number that I wasn't going to mention, except it's in the commercials.) We see Babur newly arrived in Mercy, and a visit from his estranged wife that will determine whether his daughter gets to live with him. Like the first episode, it's warm and surprisingly touching. You could watch this show with your kids. I would watch it with my kids. Of course, that would mean having to go out and get some kids, and that's probably a little too ambitious just for an hour of television.

Check in with Little Mosque. The characters have settled in, there's a confidence in the storytelling, and the show really has come a long way. I rate it a bit of a Holiday treat.

Although I could have used more of the Elf with the eyepatch.

And I Was With You, Right Up Until You Brought the Nazis Into It

So where does the WGA strike stand right now? Not in a good place. The AMPTP walked out on negotiations Friday, after wide speculation that they would engineer a way to do just that all last week.

It's hard not to be a conspirian and to read the tortured, half-hearted negotiating as treading water at the table and then doing something to try to turn public opinion. It wasn't about a real negotiation. It was all kabuki, about managing their bad press.

Over on United Hollywood, WGA member Marc Guggenheim posted a pretty clear precie of the first month of negotiating, and the games that are being played by the AMPTP:

On October 31, 2007, the day the WGA’s contract with the studios was set to expire, the AMPTP issued the following statement to the WGA:

We’ve been working hard to come up with a package in response to your last proposal. But we keep running up against the DVD issue. The companies believe that movement is possible on other issues, but they cannot make any movement when confronted with your continuing efforts to increase the DVD formula, including the formula for electronic sell-through.

The magnitude of that proposal alone is blocking us from making any further progress. We cannot move further as long as that issue remains on the table. In short, the DVD issue is a complete roadblock to any further progress.

Read that last sentence again: “[T]he DVD issue is a complete roadblock to further progress.”

A roadblock. Gee, I suppose the WGA should take the DVD issue off the table.

So that’s what it did.

Cut to 29 days later -- when the AMPTP finally got around to making its first economic proposal, which they have entitled the “New Economic Partnership.”

What’s that you say? Hasn’t the AMPTP been negotiating with the WGA since July? Hasn’t the WGA been on strike for 24 days? Haven’t hundred of people lost their jobs? And the AMPTP is just making an economic proposal now?

Yup.

But that’s not the kicker. The kicker is that the NEP was vague (purportedly $130 million dollars for an unspecified term) and incomplete -- it didn’t include a proposal on the critical issue of Electronic Sell Through (downloads, think iTunes). But that’s alright, the AMPTP promised, we’ll get the EST half of the proposal to you on Tuesday.

Maybe the AMPTP tried sending their proposal through telepathy, because the WGA negotiators didn’t receive it. Perhaps they’ll get it on Wednesday.

Nope.

Thursday? Nope.

Friday. Surely, the AMPTP would make its Tuesday proposal then. Unfortunately, by five PM, they hadn’t.

“That’s alright,” one can imagine the WGA negotiators thinking. “Maybe they’re OCD and feel like they should present their Tuesday proposal on a Tuesday or something.”

Nope.

Instead of delivering the Tuesday proposal, or any proposal on Friday, the AMPTP delivered a statement which noted in pertinent part, “Instead of negotiating, the WGA organizers have made unreasonable demands that are roadblocks to real progress.”

Waitasecond.

I thought DVDs were the roadblock. Now you’re telling me there are others? Well, heck, the WGA should take those off the table, too. Just like they did with DVDs. Then maybe we could get on with some real negotiating -- after we've given them 95% of what they want without getting a single concession from them on anything, and having been left at the table after they walked out on us.

Remember kids, it's all about the internet -- the "too new" medium where nobody's making any money yet.

Riiiight.

(I left out the last bit of the post, referred to in the title, where Neville Chamberlain was name-checked. Really, guys, the war metaphors aren't helping. You're writers. Can't you find a better trope?)

Intel from an Unusual Source

IF YOU'VE READ this blog for any length of time at all, you'll definitely get the sense that there are a couple of competing streams that our homegrown TV is up against.

The first is a lingering sense that it's not any good. Such is the domination of Canadian airwaves by U.S. product, that it's hard to find homegrown shows, and even harder to keep them in their timeslots.

Then there's the notion of promotion. There isn't any. Promotional budgets are scant. The Canadian privates rely on piggybacking on the U.S. promo, and the CBC only has enough juice to pick a few shows each quarter.

And then, there's that malingering sense of whingeing and entitlement. People who complain about their reviews. Reviews that let homegrown stuff off too early, or the corollary -- reviews that reflexively judge Canadian stuff by a harsher yardstick. The combo of the two makes for that strange feeling that anything you read is unreliable.

And then, unfortunately, there is the carping. Sometimes, people will carp about their shows being treated badly. This is en famille stuff that shouldn't be in the news -- there's little enough ink devoted to our shows in the first place. Our family squabbles shouldn't suck the air away from that.

Chris Haddock has been engaged in an increasingly bitter feud with the CBC over the treatment of his series Intelligence, this season. As the ratings have dropped, Haddock has been everywhere, accusing the CBC of dumping his show on an icefloe to die.

While I sympathize with his frustration, and even agree with some of his points, I don't think airing the laundry out has helped Intelligence, which concludes its second season with two hours tomorrow on CBC.

What I do know is this: in much the same way that critics everywhere praise The Wire, Intelligence is a show that is not done.

The Wire is changing the way that a lot of people think about HBO and Television, even if it's never had the same audience response as The Sopranos or Six Feet or even Deadwood. What it lacks in viewers it more than makes up for in sheer, plate tectonic moving virtuosity.

There is not a doubt in my mind that Intelligence is our Wire. It is a show that rewards careful viewing. It is a show that is quietly inspiring a generation of younger TV writers who want to seize the showrunner reins and do quality, nuanced work in this country -- NOT have to head to the U.S. like the generations before us. It is a prescient view of the toxic relationship between source and handler, and the need for 'humint' that, I think, will still stand years from now as an extraordinary document of this time, a brave show that cast a jaundiced eye on a very important and shady aspect of our relationship with the Americans, and our relationship with our own government.

In sophistication, in execution, and in scope, Intelligence ranks up there with British miniseries like State of Play, Prime Suspect. The show is not without its flaws, but those flaws are pale indeed when stacked against the show's importance for Canadian screenwriters and the medium of Canadian television. You want to know what the Canadian point of view is? There it is. Skeptical, unsentimental, and adult when it comes to issues that matter. That is the show's legacy.

If, as expected, the show is cancelled sometime after tomorrow, it will not be the end. The first season is finally going to come out on DVD next year. The second season will probably follow. And people will pore over those DVDs for the next several years and marvel at the Canadian show that got it so right, and wonder why we couldn't get more Canadians to watch it.

For a "professional" view on Intelligence -- here's an endorsement that should give you a jolt. Try one from an ex- U.S. spy -- the guy who was the inspiration for the show Burn Notice, Michael Wilson (NOT the former Tory Finance Minister)

Away from the technology, intelligence thrives – indeed relies – upon deception, manipulation, and betrayal. To take an example, in the U.S., we have the case of Valerie Plame, an intelligence officer working counter-proliferation: keeping hostile actors from acquiring terrifying new weapons. There is no more trying beat to walk and by all accounts, she was exemplary. Chosen because she was pretty, blonde and intelligent, Plame was trained and then slotted into a "non-official cover" role to get men to betray themselves and their interests. Consider that she was a once-in-a-generation opportunity, and you'll have an appraisal of the toxic culture that outed her.

When working covertly, the way a case officer does, you have to find a way to meet your targets and work them. Large men of military bearing need not apply. Plame was given a commercial cover that would put her into rooms of men who, frankly, wished to bed her. Not only did she get in the room, she had a way (as long as nobody ever did manage to bed her) to get men to talk to her, even compete to top each other for her attention. She worked them by making them work themselves.

The act of blowing her cover not only took Plame out of the game, but exposed the tradecraft of her cover, how she operated, what she was asking about, any of her contacts. Pulling apart the Plame story on the outside became a roadmap for "hostiles" to look for other potential officers; pulling apart the damage on the inside became a roadmap of how to prepare a new one. Meanwhile, there's a gap between now and when a similarly prepared officer might be ready to accomplish something.

Intelligence has taken you into this world – building trust with questionable people, engaging in deception and manipulation to encourage betrayal. It's tough to get someone to sell themselves out, but that's what officers do to agents (as assets are known).

Intelligence's Jimmy Reardon (Ian Tracey), the drug kingpin, can provide essential information and insight to Mary Spalding (Klea Scott), who is not just his handler but the head of the operation. Of course, Reardon is being gunned for (rival mobs, law enforcement, and this season, the CIA), just as Spalding is by co-workers like Ted Altman, her own bureaucracy (if only that glass ceiling were bullet-proof), and the CIA.

The inherent conflict between handler and asset in Season One of Intelligence was in the dynamic between Jimmy and Mary, both trying to use the other, both trying to maintain their own agenda.

You won't need a spoiler alert for this next bit about Season Two, but Mary is about to be thrust onto the horns of a moral dilemma: do your job as a handler and protector of your country, but deal with the human cost of having that upper hand.

That's a pretty heady thumbs up. Canada, you've got one chance to give those numbers a goose, Monday night on CBC. No sense lamenting it as the TV equivalent of the Avro Arrow three years from now. Intelligence needs you to vote with your remote.

EDIT: In the interests of balance, here's a response from Jeff Keay at CBC on the network's handling of Intelligence. The one point I can quibble with here is the contention that CBC continued to promote Intelligence in season 2. That certainly did not seem to be the case -- but, everything else he says really can't be countered. It simply solidifies the point I've made above -- this shouldn't be being fought about in the media.

Canadian TV Plug-a-Palooza

ALREADY FEELING THE ravages of the looks-like-it-won't-end-anytime-soon WGA strike? (By the way, when you read that link, keep in mind that it's kabuki theatre -- all week the word was that the AMPTP would engineer a "walk out" and try to paint the writers as unreasonable. Let's see if the cheap tactic works. But man, they really don't care about you viewers at all, yo.)

If you're in Canada, you've got a couple of choices this weekend. I haven't written about Heartland on this blog yet, but I have it on good authority that this weekend's episode is a good way in if you have yet to see this family drama about a horse ranch in Alberta. Horses, cute girls & guys, Cowboys.Ish. CBC, Sunday, 7pm.

But you should set your VCR or PVR and timeshift, because that's also when Episode 8 of Da Kink in My Hair airs on Global, Sunday, 7:30 p.m.

In the coming days, hopefully I'll have some words on the pilot of hockey and sex soaper MVP (coming in January to CBC) and the Little Mosque Christmas/New Year's Specials (airing this week.)

So there it is. Have a good weekend.

Don't Speak...Don't.........Speak...

AFTER MAKING their debut on DHD, the Speechless campaign of SAG actors supporting the WGA -- is now up at its new home, speechlesswithoutwriters.com

The 20th Video Features Woody Allen.

1) Open Cage 2) Let Feral Hen Out 3) Poke Feral Hen

SO AWHILE back we had the Great Fanfic Contretemps. Poke the tag at the end of the post for the full sordid deal.

And then, lo, the waters receded. A dove appeared with an olive branch in its mouth. Or something. Whatever. I never liked that passage of the Bible. One day I'm going to fix it and then post it on alt.religion.kingjamesbiblesucks or something.

Anyway. Prodigious Radio Enthusiast and Onetime student o' mine Dan Misener got in touch with me about a nifty CBC Radio Show he's working on called SPARK.

From CBC.ca:

Spark is your guide to the Next Big Thing. On-air and online, join Nora Young for a surprising and irreverent look at tech, trends, and fresh ideas.



Sounds like a show I used to work on back in the day at Citytv called mediatelevision. You know, when WIRED was cool. Man, I'm old.

Anyway, apparently Dan wants me to be stoned to death in the virtual public square, because he got in touch with me asking me to comment on this article:

JK ROWLING has given the go-ahead to copycat writers posting "fan fiction" sequels to Harry Potter on the internet.

The author will not take legal action against American George Lippert, 37, who wrote a sequel to the wizard's adventures on his website.

Rowling's decision is expected to cause a surge in the number of unauthorised tales by fans.

Her lawyers confirmed the author would be happy for spin-offs to be published online, provided it was made clear she was not involved and the publications were not sold.

She also requested that the follow-ups do not contain any racism or pornography.

So this morning I did a quick (eight minute) interview with host Nora Young. I gather from the CBC website:

Denis will be on the December 12/15 episode of Spark, along with G. Norman Lippert, author of fanfic Harry Potter sequel James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing.

But in that wonderful spirit of the internet kind of way, if you go to the Spark page right now, you can listen to the interview in its entirety. The eagle-eyed among you may even note a slight softening of my previous fairly Calvinist Fanfic stance.

(Though I still think if you're good enough to write a "good" fanfic, you're good enough to sweat a bit and write a story of your own. Lot more rewarding in the long run -- and I aint talking shekels. But that's neither here nor there.)

Oh God, they're not going to see the nuance, are they? Attack hens! Two o'clock!

Tell Mom I went down swinging.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Playback

SO IT WAS back in January that I observed and commented positively about the launch of Playback Daily, the daily email newsletter from the organ that tries to fill a Variety-sized hole in Canada's broadcast industry.

Before the launch of the daily, Playback had been frequently dire. The joke was that its greatest use was if you happened to be coming back from a sabbatical, because by the time something appeared in the bi-weekly journal, it was really old news.

I was a subscriber for a while -- paid -- but the other thing that was frustrating about Playback is that it seemed like I was the only guy I knew who was paying for it. To boost circulation, they handed out a lot of free subscriptions. I didn't feel quite like paying 70 bucks a year or so, as a person, for something that companies and individuals were getting for free.

Add to that fact that there wasn't really a lot of journalism published at Playback... articles about companies frequently only talked to the people in the companies themselves, articles about shows focused on one person -- the whole thing seemed to be built around special issues where everybody would buy ads congratulating this guy and that guy for 20 great years of doing the thing.

You know, the thing.

Right. You still see elements of this in the coverage -- you'd think that maybe Playback could have broken or hinted at a huge story like Gary Howsam getting busted and its effect on Peace Arch -- they are the industry paper, after all...

...but on the whole, Playback has spent 2007 getting sharper and more timely, widening the scope of the areas of the business it covers, featuring better writing and even injecting a bit of sass into the proceedings now and again. If the Playback Daily had existed in 2005, I might not have even been moved to start this blog. The main reason I did it was because nobody was writing about the industry I saw with my own eyes. Playback, finally, has started to try and fill that gap.

And now it's all gone to hell.

If you go to Playback's website today, this is what you'll see:


Oh joy. Oh bliss. I'll save you the click:

"Following extensive consultation with industry stakeholders [ah, the phrase that instills confidence in any Canadian MediaMonkey's heart] it's time to take it to the next level."

The "next level," in this case, is going to cost you $9.95 a month. That's a Hundred Bucks a year. And if you read the fine print, that's the "introductory price." You know what that means.

Besides all the stories (which are now behind a paid firewall) they promise a big database -- which they describe as "a giant leap forward for the industry."

Well okay. I can see that. There's just one problem. When you go to the page, and se those fabulous database links, what do you see right above them?

That's right, kids. A big 'ol beta sign. Now, maybe I'm rusty, here, but one of the big rules I thought I understood about software based thingamabobs was that you don't ask people to pay for your betatesting.

This grand database may indeed be nifty. And maybe it's even worth paying for. But by putting a beta right up there, what you're saying is, "It's not ready yet." And "We expect you to pay for this sight unseen."

Well, maybe if it's one line item in the research library at the CBC, or somebody's paying at a big company, that's something. But though Playback Daily has raised my sense of the publication's value -- it has not raised it to the tune of ten bucks a month.

You have to wonder who, exactly, were the stakeholders that were consulted here? I'm pretty sure it wasn't program producers or creatives, the ones who fight tooth and nail for every scrap of publicity imaginable in this country, and who now will find one of those articles sequestered behind the pay wall where only the people who probably already are up on what's going on are gonna read it. Madness.

Canadian business is so behind, and so bad at this. How is it possible that Variety has finally realized that the answer is driving traffic to your site with free articles, but Playback hasn't? Why are we following the failed monetizing strategy of two years ago? Variety abandoned putting all articles behind paywalls some time ago. The New York Times abandoned TimesSelect a couple of months ago. That's right guys, if the New York Times can't make this model work, what makes you think...

Gahhh! It's all so moddle-headed it's hard to believe. The Globe and Playback and the Post -- Canada, once again, let's be two years behind the times, at all times.

So I guess that's it. I'll go back to thumbing through Playback on those occasional times I find myself in a waiting room looking for a meeting. And Dead Things will get its media news from elsewhere.

If any of you are foolhardy to pony up 10 clams a month, let me know how that goes for you. And if anybody from Playback wants to weigh in on how I'm actually way off base here, how this is actually a "supremely actuated, stakeholder centred drive for excellence," well, anonymous comments are on. Have at it below.

One funny irony: that letter above, from Playback's publisher, Peter Vamos. Vamos, in spanish, of course, means, "We go."

And so we do.

And That's What Christmas Is All About, Charlie Brown.

THANKS TO ALL who weighed in on the Christmas special discussion below. I had great fun on Q today. The podcast should probably be available sometime on Wednesday here.

And good on ya to Christopher Bird, Torontoist TV critic, for being a good foil in his first time out. For his further thoughts on the whole rigamarole, be sure to click here.

Now if you'll excuse me, Paul Lynde awaits...but first...

Hey, cool. Looks like Jump The Shark took note of last weekend's Evel Knievel post. Yes, folks. We hear at Dead Things Labs are not above a little logrolling. But the real mystery question is ... who the %@^# is Richard Severo?

Wow. Dissed by Jump the Shark.

Does that mean they've jumped the shark, or is it me?

Can't be me.

No way.

Ah, Shit.

WHY DO THE rest of us bother when there's Warren Ellis?

Golicked!

YOURS TRULY gets the full Jill Golick pilot treatment as she breaks down Episode One of Across The River to Motor City.

As with the true events surrounding the JFK assassination, the viewer is left with the feeling that they aren’t getting all the details. We don’t have an ideal point of view on the scenes and sequences. We have a sense we’re being left out of something, information is being held back. The story telling invokes a paranoia in you as you watch it, which is pretty clever considering that the death of JFK probably gave birth to mass paranoia. It also propels us forward, keeps us questioning and wanting more story.

There’s lots more to come. Two episodes have aired and we are far from understanding what happened to Katie.

By the way, Ms Golick also got an honest to goodness, full bore comment on her blog from...Mad Men's Matthew Weiner.

Can I get a heywriterboy squee?

MmmmaadMennnSqquuUUUEEEE!

Ah. Much better.

Wherein Our Hero Either Tells a Shaggy Dog Story or Points Out How The Leash Comes For You Next.

I'VE ALWAYS BEEN a little bit leery of the image of the striking WGA writers as representative of anything other than...striking writers. The whole war metaphor, it skeeves me out. But now here we are in week five, and there's a little something in the back of my brain that's starting to worry, not just about my industry or entertainment. I find myself buying in to the idea that maybe, just maybe, something way bigger is going on here.

I'll be the first to point out that writing is not like other work, and writers are not like other workers. It would be pretty cheeky for us to talk to an autoworker who's been replaced by a robot, or all the people out there seeing themselves squeezed out for economies of scale or globalization.

On the other hand, the atypical thing about this business is that the raw materials are intangible, and that it's people who come up with them. In a sense, we are both the materials that make the product, and the worker who crafts it. That's enough to take the issues of four cents for this or 2.5 percent that into higgledy-piggeldy land.

The one thing we can agree on? People love TeeVee. They bond with beloved TeeVee characters like nothing else. A movie franchise character is a love affair consummated in trysts every few years. And sometimes, because it's such an event, you can't even hear or really see them over all the whomping and thudding.

But there's Dr. House, misanthroping his way into your living room, each week. Every seven days, you get to check in with Kate and Sawyer, or root for Betty, or see what the women on Wisteria Lane are wearing. Whatever you're going through in your life, you know that Jim, Pam and Michael (okay, maybe not Michael) are on parallel tracks. And that's comforting. No wonder we're all fixing to miss it so much.

It's gratifying when I read that a great portion of the public does see that there is basic unfairness at work here, and that the writers do have great support. And you try to keep in mind that there's some number out there that will solve this whole thing, and then we can all get back to enjoying those ficitonal people in our homes.

But.

There are some extraordinary things happening around the margins. The first is that I'm not sure that I quite knew that there were only six companies that were behind this now. That's a lot of consolidation.

The second is, like everybody, I was kind of pulled in and duped a bit by the advance word of progress last week, which turned to disappointment when it became clear that there wasn't really anything new being offered.

And then you start to see things like this, and this. And you wonder, maybe the dark scenarios are really all right:

In his book Confessions of a Union Buster, Martin Jay Levitt details the techniques he learned in his many years attacking unions. A key element is the demoralization of the union members during any industrial action against the company. Taking away people's hopes, their aspirations for a quick resolution to any labor dispute – that was Levitt's job. "If you can, make the union fight drag on long enough, workers...lose faith, lose interest, lose hope." According to Robert Muehlenkamp, an SEIU Local 1199 organizer at Harper Grace hospital in the 70's, where Levitt was hired to consult management:

"Union busters wield great power through a program of terror and manipulation – people don't, can't possibly know what's going on and who's telling the truth.... The first time this happens to regular people, they're terrified."

And terror is the goal. The union buster hopes to control employees by employing terror.

This is, of course, precisely the situation we find ourselves in today. We are the example that is being used to intimidate the other unions. The studios want the actors, the directors, the Teamsters, IATSE, all to look at our struggle and see us lose. See us fractured and divided. With the hope that they will be frightened by what they see, and accept whatever deal the studios offer.

The idea is also to make us appear demoralized, then divided. To the public, and to ourselves. Diminish the pickets (LA Times: the "relentless picketing" which was one element in bringing the AMPTP back to the table); split off core groups (oh no! Carlton Cuse has gone back to work! The Showrunners are all abandoning us!); fragment the internal leadership (the Captain's meeting Friday, although generally cordial, did show signs of strain as one writer, concerned for his laid-off production team asked "What do I tell them?" to be admonished by another member that "We are on strike!"); and create a sense that our strike is useless.

The most powerful tactic in strike-breaking is propagandistic. The union (and particularly the leadership) is portrayed as power-hungry, control-seeking, strike-happy, aloof. Leadership is described as detached from the membership and inaccessible to their demands (Patric responded to over 500 e-mails over the Thanksgiving break.) The strike is described as rudderless and futile, with declining numbers on the picket lines. The creation of a Strike Rules committee is described as fascistic. The companies are portrayed as avuncular and concerned: "We're just trying to get everyone back to work."

Divide and conquer. Divide and conquer. That's the union buster's strategy.

The fact that Americans have been so down on unionism for a while now has always been something that bothered me. If you study anything about the history of labor, you quickly come to realize that there's not a single gain that came out of "management's desire to have a great relationship with its employees." Maybe in small business, where that manager is the guy in the cubicle or down the workbench from you...but we're down to six companies here -- we're down to six, or two, or one company in a lot of industries these days. And management never gives anything up willingly.

If you believe that there's an element of organized, methodical union busting to this, then that's one thing. At the same time, there's the propaganda that went out at the beginning portraying writers on the line as pampered and rich.

For the sake of the argument, let's say that's true. Okay, not true. But let's say that writers are better off than a lot of people in America.

They also make a product that most people love. That makes people's lives easier and more enjoyable.

They do it in an industry where they rub arms with stars, and in our star obsessed universe, that patina of glamor goes a long way.

And yet...the six media companies behind the AMPTP are willing to screw around and union bust these people. Because they've decided that's how they can make the most money now and in the future. It's not about fair. It's not about right. It's just business.

I'm not the first person to say this, but I will be the next:

If they're willing to burn and break the group of people who make good money, who make the product that people write obsessive fan websites about, who hang out with stars, people who have the power to get their side of the story out in articulate and clever and funny YouTube videos and message campaigns featuring the most recognized faces on earth -- if they crush THOSE people, how do you think workers in industries with NO glamour -- in Raleigh or Portsmouth, or Muncie or Ocala or El Paso or Savannah or Calgary or Red Deer or Tacoma or Scottsdale or Santa Fe are going to do when they go for a contract?

There is an industry -- marshalling the power of the internet and research and all these 21st century tools, whose job it essentially is to browbeat and defeat workers and prevent unionism -- the force that made the rise of the middle class in the 20th century possible. They've been very good at it. Unionism is at a low in America now. And many Americans have a very low opinion of unionism -- lower than it's been for years.

I know there are legitimate beefs with the union movement, and that there are horror stories out there where the union becomes an impediment to a worker. But I also know that in my experience, I've had friends that were getting screwed over who only got justice because there was a union rep helping them; and I know that my own union, the WGC, has helped me out on more than one occasion where I was having a problem.

The difference is that the big corporations ALWAYS act in their own interest. The union busting industry, and a lot of the election results over the last little while, prove that people are more malleable. You can goad them into going against their best interests.

In order to do that in this current strike, they have to demoralize, shake loose, and divide and conquer. Hasn't happened thus far. But it still might.

The middle class -- and working writers mostly count themselves in that bunch -- is disappearing. Fast. It's getting squeezed down, and down, while a smaller number of CEO's concentrate wealth at levels that make them untouchable.

This has been going on for a while now. And oh yeah, those six companies that control all your entertainment also control your news. Is it any wonder that the news that comes out about Labor, generally, isn't good?

What if this strike isn't about something trivial? What if the greatest stake to you isn't the loss of those beloved weekly visits by characters you've grown to think of as almost part of the family?

For a relatively small number of workers, this strike gets alot of coverage because it's about, and in the entertainment world. And if you want to criticise me or other people for taking notice now that it's about us, and that there's an element of solipsism to this, then fine, yes, guilty. That doesn't change the facts. It doesn't change the fact that underlying this sucker are issues of labor, intellectual property, the new economy, and compensation for work, that actually will shape the next few decades.

From Enron on down, we've seen over the last few years what happens when corporate and people's interests collide. Here's a hint: People don't win.

If they'll do this to the high profile guys, what will they do to you?

What if you had a dog in this hunt?

Because I'm starting to think that you might.

Fa-la-la-la-Q

I'LL BE ON CBC Radio's Q today talking about my embarrassing attachment to Yuletide specials.

When You Lose The Kitties and The Puppies...

IT'S JUST...over.



What, oh what, will Cute With Chris do? What about Cute With Chris?

This strike's just piling on the victims.

(Video originally posted on United Hollywood, From WGA Member and Colbert Report Writer Frank Lesser)

The Itch Reality Don't Scratch

THE NEW YORK TIMES this weekend published a thoughtful essay by Allesandra Stanley called The Classless Utopia of Reality TV. An excerpt:

Yet the more reality shows mimic fictional series in tone, look and format, the easier it is to see where they differ: class consciousness. Sitcoms and dramatic series drum up tension by assaulting social barriers. Most reality shows take them for granted and leave them untouched.

It is a distinction that will become even more obvious as reality shows multiply, partly in response to the strike of the Writers Guild. Scripted series deliver the image of the society we would like to be: racially integrated, classless, well intentioned. Reality shows are more honest, but they also breed a kind of country dysmorphic disorder: half the nation is blond, beautiful and driving sports cars through Beverly Hills, while the other half is blond, sleazily oversexed and prone to hair-pulling and name-calling.

Now I admit, reality tv has been on my mind a bit lately. But the wonderful thing about Stanley's piece is that though its main point is that social class and the conflict between them is largely absent from the genre, she makes several very provocative side points about the differences between dramatic scripted programming and reality, especially in light of the new "constructed reality" programs which are basically set up to look like dramas.

Scripted television favors myth. “Ugly Betty,” on ABC, puts a poor, plain girl (America Ferrera) from Queens deep inside the offices of a top fashion magazine and draws its humor from the class struggle between Betty and her snooty, conniving colleagues.

“The Hills” puts Lauren, an alumna of “Laguna Beach,” inside the real-life West Coast office of Teen Vogue, and draws its humor from the sleek, vacuous congruity of that world. Everybody fits in. Lauren’s tasks consist mostly of attending red-carpet premieres.

A recurring joke of the show is how the leaders of Hollywood’s young and pampered set feel oppressed by their careers. Lauren’s former friend Heidi, who works for an event planner, returns home in a white, bare-shouldered top, her blond hair impeccably blown out, and is greeted by her fiancé, Spencer. “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asks somewhat sardonically. “Long,” she replies wearily. “Tiring.”

“The OC” built its story line on the cultural collision between its underclass hero, Ryan (Benjamin McKenzie), a teenage runaway, and the affluent and gorgeous denizens of Orange County, Calif. “Gossip Girl” pits a middle-class teenager, the son of a former rock singer, against the snobbish scions of Park Avenue and the Hamptons.

“Laguna Beach” never bothered with such contrivance.

Reality shows are dramas lived out on beta-blockers; microproblems stretch over more episodes than any network drama would allow, no crimes are solved, no lives are saved, and the characters speak most eloquently when silent. Most of all they focus on mating, not social mobility.

The full article's well worth the wait. If anything, it explains well why these shows hold teenagers in such thrall nowadays. No wonder. Obsessed with mating, not concerned with any of the more adult problems, compromises, or obstacles life presents -- these shows are like Purina Teen Chow.

Interesting stuff.

Canadian TV: At Least It Won't Slay You

VINAY MENON in the Toronto Star today has an interesting take on the recent spate of stories about people in the USA getting all stabby while they watch the TeeVee.

On Thursday, a 66-year-old Seattle woman was knifed in the abdomen as she watched TV with a neighbour. According to a story in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, the two "started arguing after the victim changed the channel to a religious program."

Weird. Weirder still: the dispute happened around 8:15 a.m., a time when television is overrun with cartoons, infomercials and staid morning shows. Who knew TV could trigger such antisocial aggression in the non-prime-time hours?

Maybe programs such as The Early Show should start running disclaimers: "Warning. Some viewers may find the following so spellbinding that changing the channel could result in a murderous fury."

As Seattle police spokesperson Renee Witt told the paper: "I don't know what they were originally watching. But it must have been something really good."

The attack occurred three days after an eerily similar incident in Phoenix, Ariz. Last Monday, a 13-year-old boy was seriously injured when he was stabbed (also in the abdomen) in a dispute (also over what to watch on television).

The attacker? His 12-year-old brother.

He even thinks we could tease this out, and spin it as a potential new slogan for Canadian TeeVee.

Why don't Canadians inflict physical harm on one another over a petty issue like watching TV? Do we have more perspective? Are we simply a kinder, gentler nation? Or could this national shortage of TV rage somehow be related to Canadian TV itself?

Think about it. Corner Gas (CTV, 8:30 tonight) has a loyal following. But even the most devoted Dog River groupie would not resort to homicide if he or she was suddenly deprived of Brent Butt.

Dragons' Den (CBC, 8 tonight) is airing its season finale. It's a great show, no question. But you know what? No Canadian would brandish an assault weapon if a friend or family member casually changed the channel to, say, Chuck (NBC, Citytv, 8 tonight).

I'm starting to really appreciate Canadian television. I mean, just knowing that I can walk into any bar in this city to watch The National with Peter Mansbridge and leave without bleeding to death is profoundly comforting.

The industry should really use this in its marketing campaigns: "Watch Canadian TV and nobody gets hurt."

Could have legs, whaddya think? Even the programming tends to follow this rule: the Trailer Park Boys let off guns all the time, but nobody dies.

I mean, take any Desperate Housewife -- any one of them -- but I'm looking at you, Marcia "I blew up Melrose Place" Cross -- and come on -- those gals could snap and go postal at any moment. And that Ugly Betty? Tick. Tick. Tick.

Maybe Americans are just picking up on their zeitgeist.

I like Vinay's idea. Certainly better than anything Jim Shaw's come up with. What do y'all think?

Avez-vous vu "La Frontière" ?

SO IT LOOKS like the pre-press is starting for The Border. This article comes courtesy of Lee-Anne Goodman at Canadian Press.

Not only is a sale to France cool, but the article features an interview with the Gentlemanliest Writer - Producer in Canadian TV, the inimitable Mr. David Barlow:

TORONTO - It's a blustery day at a desolate lakefront ferry terminal that's serving as the set for the upcoming CBC drama "The Border," and word is spreading quickly among cast and crew: a major French distributor has already bought the rights to the show more than a month before it's set to air.

"This is a show we're all very proud of, so it's really exciting news," David Barlow, one of the writers and producers of "The Border," said Thursday as he wandered the gleaming glass and stainless-steel set, constructed in a federal ferry terminal used only in the summer months by cruise ships, with stunning views of Lake Ontario and the Toronto skyline as its backdrop.

The gods seem to be smiling upon "The Border" - not only has it attracted attention from international buyers like France's Neutra Production, it's also set to air in January when the big U.S. television blockbusters that routinely brutalize the CBC in the ratings will likely be in reruns thanks to the ongoing screenwriters' strike.

"Even if the strike were to end tomorrow, there's still going to be lag time before any new episodes of the big American shows are available," Barlow said. "That will give us an advantage in January - maybe Canadians who wouldn't normally try us will try us. So that little break, the little window, that opportunity to get the show out to people who would not normally try us is a tremendous advantage."

"The Border," premiering Jan. 7, has also attracted some star power behind the camera. Ken Girotti, the Canadian-born director who's been at the helm of episodes of the critically acclaimed "Rescue Me" and "24," was on set Thursday commanding the action.

The parallels to "24" have been frequent, Barlow notes, but says there are key differences between the two shows.

"It is certainly active, it has the energy of '24' and some of the episodes have big international stakes like '24,"' Barlow says.

"But we're more of an ensemble show. There's a core cast of about seven, and it's more collective and it's a show that, in a particularly Canadian way, struggles with the kind of absolute power that these people now have. The characters in 'The Border' - yeah, they try to catch the bad guys and keep Canada safe but they also question what is the right thing to do when you have all these extraordinary powers that immigration people now have here.

You can also get the full piece here.

When Icons Jump The Shark, Or The Day I Walked With Evel

IF YOU'RE MALE and of a certain age today, you're probably like me. You're mourning an icon.

From the NYTimes:

Evel Knievel, 69, Daredevil on a Motorcycle, Dies

Evel Knievel’s famed jump over the fountains at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas in 1967; he was unconscious for a month afterward.

By RICHARD SEVERO

Published: December 1, 2007

Evel Knievel, the hard-living, death-defying adventurer who went from stealing motorcycles to riding them in a series of spectacular airborne stunts in the 1960s and ’70s that brought him worldwide fame as the quintessential daredevil performer, died yesterday in Clearwater, Fla. He was 69.

His death was confirmed by a granddaughter, Krysten Knievel, The Associated Press reported.

Mr. Knievel had been in failing health for years with diabetes and idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, an incurable lung condition. In 1999, he underwent a liver transplant after nearly dying of hepatitis C, which he believed he had contracted from a blood transfusion after one of his many violent spills.

Knievel is an icon whose death I found out about through a friend's Facebook status message. That is a first.

It's fine if you don't get what the fuss is about. I mean, he jumped things. Looking back now, it seems a bit silly, really.

One of the great lessons of my life has been about the fickle nature of iconography. In high school, when Ricky Nelson died, I made a joke about it on the announcements, and had to deal with a very angry female teacher who was hurt. An actor on Ozzie and Harriet meant nothing to me. But to her, it was everything.

I learned that day to be respectful of people's icons. (And also, that the baby boomers were the only people peculiar enough to expect that the passing of their icons should affect everybody as much as it did them.)

I was moved the day Kurt Cobain died. Not by his death, exactly. I mean, it was a drag, sure. But to me, that was just a rock star dying. It only occurred to me that something else was going on when about 500 kids showed up outside the Muchmusic building where I worked to spontaneously mourn him.

Years later, on a Six Feet Under episode, there was a flashback to young Claire (about 7 or 8) discovering Nate, who would be in his 20's then, crying over the death of Cobain. That bumped for me seriously because, dude, he'd be upset -- I was -- but not crying upset. Lennon? Sure. He was everybody's icon, but Cobain?)

Anyway, icons are a tricky thing. Point is, if you're under thirty, say, it doesn't matter a whit to me that you don't understand who Evel Knievel was -- other than "that guy who sued Kanye West," or why he was important.

But you do probably have a connection -- even though you don't know it. You're most likely way more familiar with the ripple events of Evel Knievel than the guy himself.

Specifically, jump the shark.

See, that website, the entire ethos behind it, is a ripple off the impact of Evel Knievel.

A quick recap, for the 2 of you who haven't come across it yet. In the popular zeitgeist, a show is said to have "jumped the shark" when a once promising series starts to suck. The episode comes from an episode of HAPPY DAYS, where Fonzie actually jumped a shark.

Why, you ask, would they come up with such a ridiculous plotline?

Evel Knievel.

Garry Marshall, Happy Days' producer, was famous for jumping on top of any trend that seemed popular. And daredevilism, specifically the kind of foolhardy heroics that formed Knievel's stock in trade -- was no exception. In fact, Fonzie jumping the shark was a kind of sequel to an earlier Knievel homage -- an episode where Fonzie jumped a bunch of barrels and slid into Arnold's.

If you're within five years of my age, and you lived in the U.S. -- especially Florida -- you had an Evel Knievel motorcycle and action figure. (I even had the Snake River Gorge Rocket Car set, and the bike tricked out to look like one of his Harleys, and more stickers, coloring books, patches, jump ramp sets and photos than you could shake a stick at.) You'd play Evel Knievel on your bikes, in the park. You'd jump ramps and probably crack your fool head open (I'm getting a smile-on right now picturing today's nervous parents dealing with freaking Evel Knievel as their kid's role model. Oh, 1970's, you were awesome.)

Evel is also the obvious inspiration for the Simpsons episode where Homer jumps Springfield Gorge. He also appeared on the original Bionic Woman. He played himself, natch.


It sounds ridiculous and cliche to say it, but I think the main reason why Evel meant so much to kids was that he always got up. When you're a kid, you're always doing dumb things and fooling yourself and trying stuff and banging yourself up. And Evel did all that. He took crazy risks. And he always got up.

And for whatever reason, that was important.

I met Evel once. I was eight, and his best daredevil days were behind him.

No, we did not fall in love. Let me finish...

I was living in Orlando, Florida, in a subdivision called Bay Hill. Golf fanatics will doubtless recognize the locale as the site of the Arnold Palmer Invitational.

This is me in front of my old house in Bay Hill, a couple years ago. Back in the day, I'd pretty much rev up the Evel motorcycle and let'er rip right there on the sidewalk behind me. Sometimes I'd make him jump salamanders, or oranges from the tree down the street.

Anyway. One day, the rumor spread like wildfire through the neighborhood kids. Evel Knievel was up at the club having dinner.

We all got on our bikes and rode up, and got in and as far as the door to the dining room. And there, at a table, there he was, just sitting there. We were all disappointed that he wasn't wearing his trademark star-spangled jumpsuit.

But after a few minutes of fidgeting and quiet gawking, he waved us in. About ten of us bolted into the mostly empty dining room. He met us half way. I swear to this day, you could hear the metal in him clank a bit when he walked, but that might just be an eight year old's active imagination.

He talked with each one of us -- asked our names, and what we liked to do. We all volunteered that we had all his stuff -- the board game and the t-shirts, and the action figures and the motorcycles. I told him about the Rocket Car from Snake River Canyon and how that was my favorite. He smiled and said, "mine too. I almost made that one."

I guess Evel faded away into the rise of Darth Vader, and so marked probably the end of one era of iconic marketing. Because Star Wars surely started the next era -- and probably all the eras to follow.

The pointlessness of the tasks Evel set himself really hearken back to a more innocent time. I'm not sure what his message was, beyond a kind of bullheaded cowboy spirt, and that dumb, occasionally foolhardy brand of American optimism that can seem simple to the other nations of the world.

It is simple. But it's quite useful. I think it's that optimism, that says you can do better, that you can fulfill your dreams and that following your instincts is the way to go -- well, I like to believe that that's at the root of more than American risk taking. It's at the heart of what it means to be American. The star spangled jumpsuit was no accident.

And I still believe that kind of optimism has been more of a force for good in the world than bad. Even if that idea's been sorely tested in the past few years.

What I remember most about my few minutes with Evel, besides the long-lost autograph I wish to God I still had, but probably never even made it to Canada with me...The thing I remember most was what he told us before he waved goodbye:

"Boys," he said. "Don't let anyone ever tell you you can't."



Thanks, Evel. Hope you aced that last jump. And that somewhere, somehow, there's film. Cause that one I'd like to see someday.


For Jim Henshaw's rather more adult view of the Great Evel Knievel, click here.

Christmas Special Mem'ries

MISTY WATER COLOURED, or otherwise, I'd love to hear about your thoughts on Christmas specials. Bill Brioux at The Canadian Press had an interesting article yesterday on some of the older Christmas specials and why they still resonate:

They were powerful little parables, full of delight and imagination. I didn't know or care at the time that they were crafted by artists already considered masters of 20th century pop culture, icons such as Theodor Geisel (Dr. Seuss), Charles Schulz and Chuck Jones. I just knew they took me to the North Pole and back, that they made me believe in Santa Claus, flying reindeer and, most of all, Christmas.

Years later, as a TV critic, I wondered why they remained so popular decades after they were made. I watched them charm and delight my own children who didn't seem to mind or care that there weren't any malfunctioning Xbox or Nintendo games on Rudolph's island of misfit toys or that the Whos down in Whoville didn't have cellphones.

What keeps them timeless (and still incredibly popular, in terms of ratings) in an era of 3-D animated epics such as "Shrek" and "Bee Movie" are irresistible characters, memorable music and original storytelling - plus one other thing. They were made before everything became an extension of the Christmas machine.

Sure, there were Peanuts paperbacks and Rudolph records and Dr. Seuss books to buy back in 1965 and '66 - and plenty were sold. But none of those '60s specials were conceived as part of a corporate marketing ploy. They were, in fact, seen as one-off novelties that would be tough sells to advertisers. CBS even worried that no advertiser would touch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" which - at Schulz's insistence - dared to have Linus quote from scripture. Scripture in a Christmas special? Sacrilege.

I know that earlier this week, I was flipping and hunting for something to distract when I stumbled upon A Charlie Brown Christmas. And yup, damnit if I didn't watch the whole thing again -- even if I do have practically every lined memorized. (And even if it does look weird having it on ABC, not CBS.)

Every year I wait til U.S. Thanksgiving to break out the Vince Guaraldi. It's my thing.

Jazz in a Christmas special aimed at kids. Suck it, Paris Hilton world. Once upon a time, even broadcast networks made choices like that. Imagine that pitch today...

Anyway, that's my thing. I want to know what your thing is.

I'm going to be on Q on CBC Radio next week talking about Christmas specials, and I'd love to solicit your thoughts on which ones still do it for you, and why? I'm especially looking for anything more offbeat -- ie: not the Holy Trinity of Charlie Brown, The Grinch, and Rudolph.

Let loose below in the comments.

Blood Ties Lifetime a No-Go

WELL, HELL. Tanya Huff, Blood Ties writer, posted this on her blog the other day:

Hey Tanya,

I just wanted to give you an update in regards to the Blood Ties final two episodes. Those episodes will not air on-air they will air online instead.

The schedule is as follows:

November 30: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly will air on Television and "We'll Meet Again" will air online.

*Basically you will get two episodes this Friday (November 30)

Next Friday, December 7: The final episode will air online only.

(bit about how we'll handle the blog deleted because we haven't decided yet)

Also, is it possible to send a message to the fans letting them know they can watch online the final two episodes?

The idea is to always keep plugging, and keep as positive as possible, but honestly I can't see how this gets spun as anything other than bad news.

I don't know, man. You get a committed fan base, they show big love for the show. It's a show that doesn't cost Lifetime a lot. After the splash they made with Army Wives initially, even that seems to have cooled. I just don't know what their thinking is.

There seems, all along, to have been a bit of a disconnect between the online part of Lifetime and the network itself. Somebody at the net side of things clearly likes the show, or hears so much from the fans, maybe, that they're more aware of how this thing's going to be perceived.

It's just really disappointing, though. Because I think the last batch of episodes were really great. We were kicking into a different storytelling style, we were opening up all sorts of great mythology expansions for the future. The script I wrote (that now won't show on TV in the US, I guess, what a drag) is one of my favorite pieces of writing I've ever done. A really cool story that was well-made and well cast. And Peter's season finale was a thing of beauty too.

After not knowing so much, here's what I do know: the cast's options are likely expiring any day. The financing for a Season 2 becomes very difficult because of ownership changes of the Canadian net that financed Season One. (Basically, CHUM, the S1 backer doesn't exist anymore. Part of the assets were sold to CTV, and part to Rogers. That puts who pays for what into dutch.)

This for a show that's doing pretty well in Canada, that sold everywhere, that drew a younger audience to Lifetime in the USA...It's just so goddamn disappointing that it's so hard to get anything made. And even when you do and people like it....

Ah well. Sorry, U.S. fans. We did what we could. If the guys at Kaleidoscope manage to pull this out and put together a Season 2, they're rockstars. But in my gut, I feel....oogy.

(This is, of course, my opinion and mine only, and does not reflect the views of Lifetime, Disney!, Kaleidoscope, Insight in B.C., CityTv, Rogers, or any actual descendants of Henry Fitzroy.)

The Reality of My Slacking Is Overrated

I HAVEN'T EVEN absorbed the move to full slack mode yet, mostly because I haven't yet made it to the slacking part. In fact, I was off for about nineteen hours, total, before I had to start working on this other thing. That's the problem with irons in the fire -- they spark and ember on their own schedule. And they don't care if you feel "a little burned out."

I've also been intersecting with my industry in some different ways. There was the WGA support demo on Wednesday, of course, and the day before I got a chance to sit around with Production Executives at Alliance Atlantis to talk about storytelling. These were a group of execs who oversee all the reality shows you see on various lifestyle networks -- this cooking show on Food Network, that dating show on Slice or the home reno show on HGTV.

It was an interesting exchange of views and expertise, and also a bit of a callback. A few short years ago I was one of the guys writing some of those shows. Reality has grown a little long in the tooth since then, of course -- and the surest sign of that is that now the formats are becoming hybridized. It's not enough to have "reality," you have to have "constructed reality" (which is basically scripted by another name -- think Curb Your Enthusisam but not funny) or docusoaps, or this game show element grafted onto that documentary element.

What's key, of course, is that this explosion in reality mirrors what's been going on in drama for the last few years. Rarely these days do you see a pure procedural, or mystery, or romantic comedy. Everything's got something else grafted on top of it. You hide the sci-fi in your show and call it anything but; you insist that your supernatural premise isn't. (I'm not a fan of the show, but you have to at least respect the guys behind Supernatural -- at least they're putting it out there.)

Then there's the argument about the comedy -- single cam, multi cam -- live audience, or pseudo-live audience feel. like How I Met Your Mother... being a writer today doesn't just mean trying to nail your genre -- it can mean trying to nail two or three.

TeeVee's on its fourth generation now, and with audience fragmentation, and decades of absorbing formats and narrative structures -- it was inevitable that you'd get to a point of this kind of cross pollination. What's weird is, reality's in the same place. Except the whole cycle's only taken about 5-7 years to get here.

I'm not one of those writers who has a secret hate-on for reality tv. Mostly I ignore it, or use it as video wallpaper when I'm tired. I have found myself fascinated and drawn to strong personality reality -- like anything with Gordon Ramsay, who I just find insanely interesting to watch.

I guess the truth is that with limited time, the time I could spend on that stuff really gets shuffled to actual documentary content. I'm looking forward to finally catching up on Ken Burns' The War over Christmas, for instance.

But going forth into that room of people, grappling with issues of character setup, and voiceover, and editing and how much to recap and whether you really need teasers anymore -- part of me just had to marvel not how different the scripted and reality worlds are different, but how much they're the same.

I started my talk by saying something I truly believe: that drama owed reality a debt over the last few years. Since reality came along, it's made characterizations sharper and forced us to commit to stakes and storylines we may not have considered earlier. I don't think that a character like Gregory House would have been welcome on network tv a few years ago. But after OD'ing on Simon Cowell, House just seems ... well, at least House saves lives, you know? And by cheekily tweaking reality with the House-Survivor arc, that show has finally done the one thing it's never been successful at: introduced a story arc with a satisfying beginning, middle, and end.

But in that fourteenth floor boardroom the other day, no one was talking about House. They were worried about things like simple storytelling -- about not being able to shoot enough to really get the story; of having to rely on voiceover written by editors who can't write because nobody will pay for a real writer-- of having to tart up in post flawed concepts that were ill conceived and rushed, or not well thought out. They fretted about setup and execution; of how to make sure that the people knew the show before they started making the show.

The bubbling subtext was one of professionalism. How do we maintain it?

And the answer to most of the questions they asked me boiled down to the same thing: what are you asking the audience to know and to feel at this moment? Where are they? What do they know, what don't they know?

The reason why reality took off in the first place was because it put these questions front and center. The good guys and the bad guys, the narratives sharp and clear, the dramatic through line concise and pounding. There's a series of TV memories I've got locked up in the old noggin -- and the first episode of that first season of Survivor is right there beside the first time I saw Twin Peaks, or thirtysomething, or the first time Tony saw the ducks, or Claire Fisher leaving the foot in the cute boy's locker.

But when you listen to people fretting over squeezed budgets and producers who are great at selling shows but not making them -- well, that's when I see the future. And it's not a great future.

You knew I'd get back to the strike eventually, right?

One of the most ill informed things that swirls at the margins in this contretemps is this breathless vision of YouTube content, and how user-generated content and low cost stuff is the future.

It's not. If anything, the crisis in reality right now is about seeing the cracks form. They sold it as low cost alternative programming. But the only reason it's low cost is because it's on the backs of employees who do as much work shaping and conceiving as a writer does a scripted teleplay -- but without the benefit of the protections, health benefits and creators righs currently enjoyed by, say, the people who bring you House.

House is hard. Content is hard. Good content is doubly so. All of it requires patience and thought and a certain baseline of professional skill. They haven't come up with the assembly line robot to replace the writer. At root, the "producers" in reality TV and the writers walking a line in L.A. and New York are both the generators of the content, and its raw materials.

Apart and separate from any of the other moral or economic arguments for the WGA in this dispute, is this:

Support the writers, because if you don't, the stuff you enjoy is going to start to suck.

And no high-falutin story seminars or network pitch meetings are going to change that scary, irrevocable truth.