Unknown critics select American TV shows

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32707, 9 September 1971, Page 4

Unknown critics select American TV shows

(By

CHARLES FRASER)

Have you ever turned away in boredom from the internationally networked family comedy or horseopera chattering away on your television screen with an irritable: “Who picks these programmes, anyway?” If the show originates from the United States—and about 40 per cent of the world’s television ouput now does—the chances are that the decision to screen the programme was made not by television executives, but by ordinary people like you and me!

Network chiefs in the United States—and to a growing extent in Europe—now argue that ordinary viewers, rather than the pro-

gramme-makers, are the best people to decide what they want to watch. Already this has resulted in several expensive programmes being drastically changed and in some cases even scrapped, much to the annoyance of producers, directors, and actors. In Hollywood, where the majority of world-selling television series .are now made, nearly all new programmes are subject to what is called “electronic pretesting” in an effort to weed out shows that are destined to be unpopular. And whatever the critics may say, economically at least, the system seems to be paying off. Three years ago, 40 per cent of new television shows created by American networks turned out to be duds which cost ssom to replace. Last year, only 8 per cent of the new programmes did not make the grade—at least so far as the ratings were concerned. How does this new-style audience participation work? A recent typical example involved two pilot shows—a spy series and a family situation comedy—made in Hollywood and designed for international syndication. First, the television company staff went out into Los Angeles, inviting passers-by to an “evening of entertainment” at a Sunset Boulevard cinema where previews of the two programmes were to be shown. FREE NIGHT OUT The only thing each member of the audience had to do in return Tor a free night out was to manipulate a dial, rather like something off a cooker which was fixed to each seat Before the shows were screened the audience got its instructions: “Twist the dial clockwise towards *very good,’ or anti-clockwise towards *very dull,* as the mood takes your” The reactions are fed into a computer which produces an instant reaction-graph which gives executives precise knowledge of the impact of each character and each line of dialogue. Some survey systems use buttons rather than dials—viewers push a green one when they like what they see, and a red one when they don’t.

Critics of the system point out that the audience is so preoccupied with the mechanics of button-pressing that it cannot really take in what is happening on the screen. ELECTRODES As the noted television producer Herbert Brodkin, an opponent of the system, has said: “How would you enjoy any theatrical performance if at every moment you were conscious of having to push a button or turn a dial?” To get round this objection, technicians have devised a system that operates automatically: members of the audience have simple electrodes taped to their fingers.. These measure skin resistance. If the viewer is relaxed and” enjoying the show, the skin does not perspire much. If he thinks it is awful, it does. The pre-testers’ tastes and preferences continue to take programme-producers by surprise. Raymond Burr’s crippled police-chief in the crime

: series “A Man Called Iron- ' side” appeared to go against all previous tradition, and was offered unoptimistically to preview audiences. But they loved it. The same applied to the crime series "Department S,” and the ghoulish comedy programme based on the Charles Addams horror family—both unorthodox shows which technically should not have reached top ratings. CRITICS’ POWER The power of the unknown critics continues to perturb the acting profession. A classic case, which is still discussed, involved an American comedy series called "Pistols • And Petticoats” featuring ; actress Christine Noel. But every time Christine ■ Noel came on the screen, I there was an inexplicable ; plunge in the graph line that recorded the reaction of the : button-pushers. As a result, she was dropped from the series, losing $20,000 in other television offers while she waited for a decision on the computer’s verdict. She said bitterly: “It is one thing to have been a bad actress, which I know I was not, or to have someone like the producer say he didn’t like me. But why should someone they dragged in off the street have the right to push a button and say whether or not I should play in the series. Miss Noel was not the only casualty: the “sidewalk critics” also threw out , several plots from the “Pistols And Petticoats” series, and gave “negative reactions” to 10 other members of the cast. A spokesman for American actors’ unions said recently: “It is maintained that audience pre-testing is now economically unavoidable. “DISASTER” “But the fact remains that random samplers now have more influence over TVseries casting than the producers, more editing control than the directors and more say on the story-line than the writers. Such a trend may make television economically viable. Artistically, it can only bring disaster." But how much should ordinary viewers be allowed to influence television shows? Criticis of the “audienceparticipation" system declare that the ultimate in interference was reabhed in a recent internationally networked series called “That Girl.” Bowing to the button-push-ers, the producers had the show rewritten to change the qareer, accent and appearance of the heroine, to make the house in which she lived bigger and more elegant, and make her father earn more money. They also got rid of her boyfriend, an American Indian called Don Blue Sky. His replacement: a reporter named Don Hollinger. “An Indian,” a productionmemo read, “was not considered to haw an adequate social standing.”—Newsfeature Service.