Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

The Bear in the Woods



"There is a bear in the woods. For some people, the bear is easy to see. Others don't see it at all. Some people say the bear is tame. Others say it's vicious and dangerous. Since no one can really be sure who's right, isn't it smart to be as strong as the bear? If there is a bear?"

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(Yesterday I wrote about Ronald Reagan's domestic–policy commercial from the 1984 campaign, informally known as "Morning in America.")

The Reagan campaign commercial of which I wrote yesterday is the one that most people remember from that campaign. Economic issues played such a critical role in Reagan's victory in 1980, and an advertisement illustrating how much better things were (by comparison) four years later was quite effective.

But I have always thought the better commercial was the one on foreign policy called "The Bear." It very cleverly illustrated the differences in thought regarding Russia (symbolized by a bear since at least the 17th century) and how much of a threat it was to the United States.

Again, Reagan's opponent wasn't mentioned by name.

But it very neatly summarized Reagan's philosophy of "peace through strength:"

"Since no one can really be sure who's right," adman/narrator Hal Riney said, "isn't it smart to be as strong as the bear? If there is a bear?"

That is the kind of question that never really seems to go out of style. America is today the world's last remaining superpower, but it has been cutting back on its active military. Consequently, many Americans live in fear that a rogue country like Iran or a terrorist group will gain possession of nuclear weapons.

I think it is safe to say that, if the party in the White House chooses to run a foreign policy commercial in the eight weeks before this year's midterm elections, it will not focus on the president's foreign–policy successes with crises brewing on virtually every continent on the globe — even though the president is not on anyone's ballot this year.

Anyway, the 1984 advertisement did seek to define Reagan and his foreign policy record, and it did so quite well. It reassured skittish voters that Reagan was not the reckless warmonger his critics made him out to be, that he favored a strong defense as a way to keep the peace, that such an approach was prudent in the world of 1984.

That sounded reasonable to voters, who had reached their own conclusions on whether Reagan was reckless after nearly four years of his leadership. Available evidence suggested otherwise to them.

The 1984 campaign really was the most rare of opportunities for an incumbent, it seems to me. Conditions were so much better than they had been four years earlier that Reagan could define himself instead of allowing his opponent, former Vice President Walter Mondale, to define him, and frame the debates in ways that were favorable for that definition.

The "Bear in the Woods" ad is a perfect example of that. In almost every modern political campaign for an office in the federal government, an advertisement on foreign policy — by candidates in either party — will be designed to reinforce negative perceptions/stereotypes about the opposition. But in 1984, the Reagan campaign was able to focus on political philosophy and explain to voters why the president believed his policy was the wisest choice.

It really was a brilliant piece of political advertising.

The Reagan camp had months to prepare the ads, too. There was no opposition to Reagan's bid for renomination so his staff was able to fine–tune the advertisements for the fall campaign under virtually no pressure — at least by campaign advertising standards.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

When It Was Morning in America ...



"It's morning again in America. Today more men and women will go to work than ever before in our country's history. With interest rates at about half the record highs of 1980, nearly 2,000 families today will buy new homes, more than at any time in the past four years. This afternoon 6,500 young men and women will be married, and with inflation at less than half of what it was just four years ago, they can look forward with confidence to the future. It's morning again in America, and under the leadership of President Reagan, our country is prouder and stronger and better. Why would we ever want to return to where we were less than four short years ago?"

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(Tomorrow I will write about Ronald Reagan's foreign–policy commercial from the 1984 campaign, "Bear in the Woods.")
I often hear people — on both sides of the political fence — lamenting the absence of civil, positive campaign advertising (by which they almost always mean TV advertising). On Sunday, I wrote about what I feel was the first of the negative ads used in a presidential campaign, Lyndon Johnson's "Daisy girl" commercial in 1964.

That was the Pandora's box that unleashed all the negative advertising that most voters lament today. They aren't exaggerating. It is true that ads are decidedly negative today. Campaign advertising almost always promotes a negative image of a candidate's opponent, seldom a positive image of the candidate himself (or herself). Candidates from both sides of the aisle apparently believe the only way to win is to tear down the opponent. It's been that way for a long time; sometimes it seems it has never been otherwise.

That is the ironic part of all this, isn't it? Candidates believe they can't win without attacking their opponents, and voters say they are turned off by such a spectacle. For the time being, at least, I am inclined to believe that we will continue to be overwhelmed by negative advertising — at least until such tactics are clearly repudiated at the ballot box.

Political advertising on television, of course, is a comparatively new form of advertising, newer than radio, much newer than print. It's been around since 1952, but, in many ways, it was still evolving when Ronald Reagan and Walter Mondale faced off in the 1984 presidential campaign.

Advertising in presidential campaigns was rather primitive — but generally not negative — in the 1950s — but, by 1964, a hardball form of negative advertising emerged in the form of Johnson's "Daisy girl" commercial.

That commercial only aired once, but it influenced the election in many ways — and is still discussed in conversations about political advertising. Perhaps its reputation for having helped the Johnson campaign led to the increasingly frequent use of negative advertising in the elections that followed.

I'm sure the Reagan campaign used some negative advertising in 1984, but I honestly don't remember any. That campaign is mostly remembered for two commercials that focused on the administration's record in its first four years. His opponent was never mentioned in either.

One was called "Prouder, Stronger, Better," and it was developed (in part) and narrated by San Francisco ad man Hal Riney — but it is more popularly remembered as "Morning in America," a phrase from the opening sentence.

Democrats (and I was one at the time) seethed over the commercial. I noticed that Democrats' complaints focused not on the accuracy or inaccuracy of the claims but rather on the merits of the production. They couldn't argue with the facts — compared to circumstances just before the last presidential election, unemployment was down; so were gas prices and interest rates.

Those are the kinds of things an incumbent wants to talk about in campaign commercials. It isn't necessary to focus on the negative if the incumbent can say things have been better on his watch — and the numbers back him up. Those numbers weren't particularly good — but they were better than four years earlier.

In fact, the only thing that could be called negative was the final sentence — Why would we ever want to return to where we were less than four short years ago?

And that really was the point for which a case had been made. The commercial was saying the current administration had made good on its promises. The president's opponent had been part of the previous administration. The Reagan campaign saw the choice as being between staying the course (to borrow Reagan's famous campaign pitch during the 1982 midterm elections) and going back to the policies of the previous administration.

That was a pretty effective way to frame the choice, and more than 58% of those who voted agreed with Reagan.

It's the kind of case every incumbent would like to make — that things have been better under his or her watch than they were under his/her predecessor — but few incumbents can make.

Was Reagan lucky, as Democrats claimed? Or was he good, as Republicans insisted? I have heard it said that it is better to be lucky than good, and maybe that was the case with Ronald Reagan. A president's critics always seem to be convinced that he is leading the country to disaster, and Reagan had no shortage of critics. If he had run for re–election in 1982, there is no doubt that he would have lost. His approval ratings before and after the election languished in the lower 40s.

But conditions changed considerably in the next two years — and Reagan's approval rating just before the 1984 election was precisely what his ultimate share of the popular vote turned out to be — 58%. Reagan certainly was lucky in his timing

If "Morning in America" came across as kinda corny, well, it was. Positive ads lack the drama of negative ads. Perhaps that is the price to be paid for getting what you want.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

LBJ's Daisy Commercial Changed Everything



Less than a year ago, I wrote that Lee Atwater deserved much of the credit for our present state of polarization, thanks to the way he ran George H.W. Bush's national campaign 26 years ago.

But I guess credit for the template for divisive modern political advertising goes to Lyndon Johnson and his 1964 campaign staff. They were responsible for a commercial that is remembered as the "daisy commercial." It had its one and only airing 50 years ago today.

It showed a little girl plucking the petals from a flower, as small children do, and counting. The girl who was shown in the commercial was 2 years old, and she was observed in a very serene, pastoral setting.

As she counted to 10 — haltingly and, at times, out of sequence, which is understandable with a child that age — an adult voice began a missile launch countdown in the background, and the camera zoomed in on the girl's face until the pupil of her eye filled the screen.

That was followed by a mushroom cloud — and a snippet from one of Lyndon Johnson's speeches.

"These are the stakes," Johnson said. "To make a world in which all of God's children can live, or to go into the dark. We must either love each other, or we must die."

"Fifty years later, the visual is startling — even shocking," writes John Rash for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. "But just as jarring are the words."

Another voice — I've heard it was sportscaster Chris Schenkel's (but I heard Schenkel call football games when I was growing up, and the voice in the commercial never sounded like his voice to me) — then said, "Vote for President Johnson on Nov. 3. The stakes are too high for you to stay home."

The message was clear. Johnson's opponent, Barry Goldwater, could not be trusted with nuclear weapons.

"You can love 'Daisy' for its power or hate it for its excess — I both love it and hate it — but it changed political advertising forever," wrote Drew Babb in the Washington Post.

It cannot be denied that the daisy commercial was an effective reminder that Goldwater had voted against the nuclear test ban treaty.

Babb, who teaches political advertising at American University and is president of the firm Drew Babb & Associates, went on to list the ways it changed political advertising. The logic is hard to fault.
  • "It gave politicians a license to kill."

    Babb observed that "[e]arlier political commercials were overwhelmingly upbeat." He pointed out that, only four years earlier, an advertisement for John F. Kennedy featured Frank Sinatra singing a revised version of "High Hopes."

    Dwight Eisenhower's commercials were relentlessly upbeat.

    Of course, television was still in its infancy then. As it grew up, it grew teeth. Fangs, in fact.
  • "By all means, trash the tropes."

    The rules were clearly different. Johnson's ad agency was largely made up of "New York street brawlers" accustomed to competing over products, not politics, and they did what they knew.
  • "Overreacting can boomerang."

    That is a fact that both parties should keep in mind today. Advertising has become much more sophisticated in half a century, but the experience of 1964 should not be forgotten. Republicans howled about the ad, and Johnson's campaign pulled it after its only showing 50 years ago today. But the networks reported on the Republican reaction and, so the viewers would know what the fuss was about, ran the ad over and over again.

    If they hadn't seen it when it aired as a commercial, they were bound to have seen it when it was shown repeatedly on the nightly news. Consequently, the message was reinforced — and almost certainly contributed to Johnson's landslide victory that fall.
Do you think the theme is outdated because America is the world's only remaining superpower? A group called Secure America doesn't. It recently unveiled a commercial called "Daisy 2," and it was clearly inspired by the commercial that ran 50 years ago.

It pulls no punches. Here is what the narrator says:
"These are the stakes. We either stand up to supporters of terrorism, or we and our allies risk losing the freedom we cherish. We must not let the jihadist government of Iran get a nuclear bomb. President Obama has an opportunity to stop it. But he is failing. Join with us. Let's secure America — now."

Friday, July 18, 2014

Staying a Step Ahead of the Stalkers



It is hard to remember Rebecca Schaeffer. I can look at a picture of her today and be unable to place where I saw her — or if I saw her or what her voice sounded like.

When you look at her picture, you can see that she had an appealing smile, a generally engaging demeanor. (Yes, I do think you can tell that from a picture.) But there have always been many of those in the entertainment world.

Of course, it has been more than 25 years since she graced our television screens in My Sister Sam, a sitcom that lasted a couple of seasons in the 1980s. She had a small part in Woody Allen's "Radio Days," but those scenes were cut. Otherwise, she hadn't made much of a dent in her field — yet.

She was 21 years old, still new on the entertainment scene, seemed to possess some star quality. I was aware of her name, but I can't say that I watched either My Sister Sam or the handful of movies she made, a couple of which were released after her 1989 murder — when, I suppose, her commercial appeal was at its height.

But we know that at least one person, 19–year–old Robert John Bardo of Tucson, Ariz., was watching.

He became obsessed with her after the first object of his obsession, a child peace activist named Samantha Smith, died in a plane crash. Bardo stalked Schaeffer for awhile; he even tried to gain access to the studio where her TV show was filmed, but he was kept out by security. For awhile, it seems he lost interest in her and fixated on others, but he zeroed in on her again after watching one of her movies and seeing her in bed with an actor.

Bardo hired an investigator to find Schaeffer's home address, which he did through Department of Motor Vehicles records. Bardo then confronted Schaeffer at her home 25 years ago today. Schaeffer answered the door, gave Bardo an autograph and went back to her apartment. She thought he had gone away when her doorbell rang a second time. She went to answer it, and Bardo shot her in the chest.

Who knows what goes through the mind of such a person? Does he think of the consequences of his crime? If Bardo bothered to think at all about how his act would be perceived by anyone — and, based on my experience as a police reporter, I doubt that he gave any thought to it, especially how it would be perceived by the media or social activists — he probably thought it would be treated like one of thousands of murders that were committed that year.

But it wasn't. It was a landmark legal event that made government acknowledge stalking for what it was. Prior to Schaeffer's murder, my impression is that stalking was treated as a "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing. Even if the two were not lovers, even if one was a total stranger to the other. Those were merely details.

It wasn't taken seriously. It wasn't treated like a real crime. Of course, it was and is a real crime. Schaeffer's death was a flashpoint for that realization. A public epiphany.

Laws were changed to protect the privacy of citizens, prohibiting state Departments of Motor Vehicles from releasing personal information about licensed drivers.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. The advent of the internet, with its online address search services, significantly eroded that law's impact. Today, anyone with access to a computer and the know–how to use it can do what that investigator did for Bardo 25 years ago.

Evolving technology has changed most things, and those who would rather such private information is not so readily available to potential stalkers need to be steadfast in their resolve.

For all the Rebecca Schaeffers out there, we must stay a step ahead of the stalkers.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

A Cancer Growing on the Presidency



"We have a cancer within, close to the presidency, that's growing."

John Dean to Richard Nixon
March 21, 1973

When the Senate Watergate Committee convened in mid–May 1973, wrote Theodore H. White in "Breach of Faith," the committee's vague objective was to investigate 1972 presidential campaign activities.

In five weeks of hearings, the committee had heard some intriguing testimony but nothing that could directly link Richard Nixon to the crimes that had been committed in his name.

That started to change 40 years ago today when former White House counsel John Dean began a week of testimony.

Well, actually, the tide began to shift a couple of weeks earlier when Jeb Magruder, a former special assistant to the president and deputy director of Nixon's re–election campaign, testified that the former attorney general and campaign director, John Mitchell, had authorized him to burglarize the Democratic headquarters.

That certainly ratcheted up the interest in Dean's testimony. Mitchell and Nixon were close. Mitchell, after all, had directed Nixon's campaigns in 1968 and 1972. In between, he had been Nixon's top law enforcement officer.

There was nothing very exciting about the testimony on the surface, though. As theater, it was tedious. Dean delivered an opening statement on the first day in a lifeless monotone, and he referred to many people with whom viewers weren't necessarily familiar.

While there may have been nothing exciting about his delivery, there was plenty that was exciting in his testimony. And a buzz of excitement preceded his appearance before the Senate Watergate Committee. His testimony became must–see TV long before the phrase was used to promote a network schedule.

Dean had a lot to tell the senators, and he used his entire first day on the stand to read a massive opening statement, pausing occasionally for a sip of water.

Dean told the senators that Nixon had been involved in the coverup all along. He also said he warned the president — prophetically, as it turned out — that "there was a cancer growing on the presidency and that if the cancer was not removed the president himself would be killed by it."

Looking back on that conversation, with the benefit of the transcript of the actual recording, White observed that Dean, in his choice of the cancer analogy, had "obviously thought through his briefing [for Nixon] carefully."

As the week went on, Dean told the senators that Nixon had misled the nation and insisted his accusations against Nixon were true. He revealed the existence of the "enemies list" and told the senators its purpose, and he told a story of a president who was obsessed with demonstrations and spoke of using IRS audits as weapons against his political foes.

Dean's testimony that week was often so detailed that some observers openly wondered how he could possibly have retained so much detail about conversations he'd had months earlier. To confirm what he said, it would be necessary to have some kind of corroborating evidence. But the conversations hadn't been recorded. Or had they?

"The televised hearings were already an unexpected hit that summer," wrote Matthew Cooper last month in the National Journal, "but the ratings soared with Dean's testimony. Still, when Dean finished, Nixon's defenders dismissed his account as one man's obfuscations and misinterpretations of what the president meant."

"Then, a few weeks later, a former White House aide named Alexander Butterfield testified before the committee that the president had installed a taping system in the White House," Cooper wrote.

And all bets were off.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Paula Deen



Well, so much for tolerance and compassion.

The Food Network fired popular cooking show host Paula Deen after she admitted under oath that she had used the "N–word" at some time in the past, but "[i]t's been a very long time."

Deen apologized for having used that word however many days, weeks, months or years ago it was. In fact, she apologized twice. Apparently, that wasn't good enough for the Food Network, who fired her anyway and now must deal with the public fallout (and based on what I have heard so far, it could be considerable).

I'm guessing that the decision makers at the Food Network have never lived in the South — or they are no older than 30. Or both.

Or perhaps they saw an easy opportunity to score some points with a demographic group that seems all too eager to spread guilt wherever it can.

I grew up in the South, as Deen did. The "N–word" was used frequently — and not always, as the uninformed would have people believe, in a racist sense. My grandmother and others of her generation used the "N–word" as an adjective, the same as if someone was being described as "old" or "blonde" or by gender or something similar (i.e., "that old, bald man").

Today, I guess that is called profiling. But for my grandmother and those of her generation — or even someone of my parents' generation — it was a description. I heard the word used by people of my own generation, too — although probably not as frequently. There was a growing stigma about that word by the time I came along.

But Paula Deen is quite a bit older than I am. She probably used the "N–word" as an adjective when she was a child and began using different adjectives when she was an adult — which would have coincided with the peak of the sensitivity movement.

Or, as she herself suggested, the word may have been used in the context of a joke. And who among us has never told an off–color joke? I don't say that to excuse the use of the word, only to make the point that the use of it does not necessarily mean the user is a bigot. Context, as I tell my news writing students, matters.

I understand where the Food Network people are coming from on that, but folks on the left need to stop being so judgmental and keep things in context. People in the South (and elsewhere, I suppose) were wrong to use that word as an adjective, but I think it is worse to hold them to 21st–century standards when they were brought up on 20th–century ones ...

Or 19th–century standards.

Abraham Lincoln, who lived in the 19th century and is remembered as the Great Emancipator, used the "N–word" in ordinary conversation, as did many of the people of his time.

If that changes how you feel about his presidency, you are the one with the problem.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Shaken, Not Stirred



Author's note: In March 1956, Ian Fleming published "Diamonds Are Forever," in which James Bond's preference for a martini that was "shaken, not stirred" became known.
In the 1950s, television was not new. It had been developed decades earlier, but it didn't play its first major role in American politics until the mid–1950s.

Broadcasting was still rather embryonic in 1956, when Dwight Eisenhower ran for a second term as president. TV networks didn't fully appreciate the subtleties of camera angles, and politicians hadn't made endless studies about what appeals visually to TV viewers. That was still in the future.

As TV ownership expanded in the 1950s, so did its potential for political influence. But it wasn't until the turbulence of the 1960s that broadcast journalism really began to mature.

The week before the Republicans met in San Francisco to re–nominate Eisenhower, the Democrats met in Chicago to re–nominate the man who lost to Eisenhower in 1952 — Adlai Stevenson.

Broadcasting was still new, as I say. Its practitioners were still learning, but the Stevenson campaign had the right idea. Drama — a compelling story — would attract attention, which would, in turn, attract viewers (and, it was further hoped, those viewers would be voters in November).

The fault lay not with the objective but with the execution.

In modern times, a convention has been an opportunity for a political party to tell the story of its nominee–to–be, but in 1956, both presidential nominees were known quantities.

There was little excitement at either party's convention in August 1956; in part to shake things up, Stevenson announced that he was throwing open the choice of his running mate to the delegates — even though he loudly lamented the marketing of political candidates.
Bartlet: Can I tell you what's messed up about James Bond?

Charlie: Nothing.

Bartlet: Shaken, not stirred, will get you cold water with a dash of gin and dry vermouth. The reason you stir it with a special spoon is so not to chip the ice. James is ordering a weak martini and being snooty about it.

The West Wing
(2002)

In the eyes of history, that convention is remembered more for launching the national political career of the man who lost the vice presidential nomination, John F. Kennedy, than the man who won it, Estes Kefauver.

Stevenson had the right marketing concept, but he didn't use the right approach. He shook things up. He didn't stir the voters.

In 1956 — and, in fact, until relatively recently — the business of actually nominating running mates occurred on the final scheduled nights of conventions, just before the nominees made their acceptance speeches.

But, on Aug. 16, 1956, Stevenson turned what had been largely a routine matter in the past into an uncontrolled free–for–all that took three ballots to resolve — and his acceptance speech was pushed out of primetime, moving the conclusion of convention business into the early hours of the following day. Viewership for the acceptance speech was, as you might expect, below expectations.

Eisenhower might have won that election, anyway. He had some health issues, but he was a popular president.

Stevenson, as I say, had the right idea, but the execution was flawed. His convention decision didn't help his cause — and that alone was a violation of the admonition to do no harm.

Could the ultimate outcome have been better for Stevenson? Absolutely. The Democrats received less than 42% of the popular vote and carried only seven states. In fact, the Democrats lost Stevenson's and Kefauver's home states.

Could the outcome have been worse? It's hard to see how.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Leadership? Or Showmanship?



Barack Obama plans to address the nation tomorrow night about the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

The speech is scheduled to begin at 7 p.m. (Central), after Obama returns from a two–day visit to Alabama, Mississippi and Florida, the president's fourth trip to the region since the oil rig exploded in April and triggered the events with which Obama and the government's emergency responders have been trying to deal ever since. It is said Obama will speak for about 15 minutes about the disaster.

This is a pivotal moment in the Obama presidency.

After nearly eight weeks of this, Americans have a general idea what's happening, and they don't want to hear an update. Well, that isn't entirely true, I guess. They'd like it just fine if Obama could tell them exactly how much oil is pouring into the Gulf every day. There seems to be a distinct discrepancy between BP's figures and everyone else's.

Beyond that, though, they've got a pretty good handle on what's happening. What they want to know is the course of action that will be taken.

What sacrifice, if any, will be asked of them?

Personally, I feel that was one of the great failings of the Bush administration. After the attacks of September 11, the country was in a common cause frame of mind and would have been responsive to a presidential call for a shared sacrifice — but Bush told a few Americans to prepare for war, and he told the rest of us to go shopping.

Would it have been necessary for American troops to remain in Afghanistan as long as they have if all Americans, those at home as well as those in uniform, had been urged to make a common sacrifice for a common objective?
"Americans need to know that Mr. Obama, whose coolness can seem like detachment, is engaged. This is not a mere question of presentation or stagecraft, although the White House could do better at both. (We cringed when he told the 'Today' show that he had spent important time figuring out 'whose ass to kick' about the spill. Everyone knew that answer on Day 2.)"

New York Times

Perhaps in the early days of his presidency, when Obama's approval rating hovered at astonishing heights — and at a point in his term when, technically, there was nothing (or, at least, very little) of which to approve or disapprove — Americans, many of whom appeared weary after eight years of George W. Bush's mangled syntax, were content to listen in admiration, as they had during the presidential campaign, to Obama's smooth oratory.

But those days are gone. The bloom is off the rose. So, to borrow a phrase from Joe Friday, just give us the facts.

There is a symbolic quality to this that is hard to measure. When a president engages in straight talk with the American people about a particularly vexing problem, he enlists their service in solving it. There is an incalculable value in that, but what it comes down to is this: people like to feel like they are part of the process.

Actually, a character like Joe Friday, from a popular TV series, provides an apt analogy for the Obama administration — in truth, for any administration. Modern Americans see their president on TV every day. For a time, they are enthralled, but there comes a point when they become disenchanted. When that happens, the negative perception begins to harden, and it requires something really dramatic to alter the downward trajectory.

You could say that John F. Kennedy reached a similar point in 1962, the second year of his presidency, when U.S. surveillance revealed that the Soviet Union was installing nuclear missiles in Cuba. When Kennedy addressed the nation, he didn't offer flowery language. He didn't try to impress the voters with his vocabulary and his extensive education. He told the American people how dire the situation was and enlisted their cooperation.

Engage us, Mr. President.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

The Day 24-Hour TV News Was Born



In my lifetime, I have literally witnessed the transformation of the world, a transformation that has been so profound, so all–encompassing, and, yet, at the same time, so subtle that it often seems that changes that took years to emerge happened overnight.

Sometimes major shifts in the human experience can be traced back to a single event on a single day — for example, July 4 is remembered more than two centuries later as the day this experiment in self–governance called America began — even if the seeds had been planted long before.

Thirty years ago today, Ted Turner launched the Cable News Network — and everything changed.

Not right away, of course. The change was gradual, but the seeds were planted on this day in 1980.

It's not hard to see the fruits today. There are many networks that provide news coverage 24 hours a day now, but in 1980, it was a new concept when David Walker and Lois Hart (a husband–and–wife team) anchored CNN's first broadcast.

Cable was not anywhere near as pervasive in 1980 as it is today, and local cable providers charged extra for many things (not just movie channels) that weren't offered as part of the basic package.

When CNN made its debut, I guess cable providers weren't sure what to do with it. In the town where I was living at the time, the local provider allowed viewers to watch CNN at no extra charge for the first few days, then it was relegated to the "extended" package, which included ESPN (which was still new itself at the time) and for which viewers had to pay extra.

CNN's initial programming was primitive, to say the least. It had no real model to follow, just a vague concept of providing viewers with the latest news whenever they switched on their TVs.

That could be quite dramatic — when there was breaking news. And 1980 had already had plenty of big events by June 1 — not to mention the ongoing drama of the American hostages in Iran.

But Turner and his crew of journalists seemed to be bewildered by how to fill the hours that seemed to drag on what had long been known in the news business as "slow news days."

That's not really surprising. CNN was a pioneer and much of what it did broke new ground. It evolved from a network that, essentially, began a brand–new broadcast every hour or half–hour (a precursor, I suppose, to the Headline News channel that came along in 1982) to a network that produced its own programming on all sorts of topics that were in the news.

And, in the last three decades, CNN became the go–to network whenever something big was happening.

On Jan. 28, 1986, CNN was doing something the other networks once did but had stopped doing — televising shuttle liftoffs.

Space travel, the traditional networks had concluded, had become routine, and televising a shuttle liftoff was not considered newsworthy enough to risk the wrath of daytime TV viewers who didn't want to see their game shows or soap operas interrupted.

So only CNN was on hand for the launch of Challenger on that cold day. But every network's news division had reporters on the scene before the sun went down — after it exploded minutes after liftoff.

Everyone was in the Gulf five years later when war broke out, but CNN's ability to be on the spot whenever something happened catapulted the network past the traditional networks in the public's estimation.

The Gulf War may have been the real turning point for CNN, giving it credibility with viewers and making household names out of some dedicated correspondents, like Wolf Blitzer and Christiane Amanpour.

And, of course, CNN was one of many networks with its cameras focused on New York's World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001.

By that time, there were many cable networks trying to do what CNN had been doing for more than two decades. They learned from CNN's mistakes and provided news shows that were as polished, if not always as accurate, as CNN's.

Both CNN and its competitors have been bringing viewers important breaking stories in recent years — Hurricane Katrina, the 2008 presidential campaign, etc. CNN has lost some of its audience, and it wouldn't surprise me if many of its staffers often feel like the pioneers like Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite and Dan Rather who made CBS News the dominant name in news coverage for earlier generations — only to see their grip on the top spot give way to newcomers like CNN.

It was always part of CNN's mission to be experimental. It has launched specialty channels that failed and specialty programs that never caught on.

But it has changed the world and how journalists report on the events that occur in it.

And only those who work — or have worked — for the network are truly free to say, as James Earl Jones has said for many, many years ...

"This is CNN."

Saturday, December 19, 2009

To Tell the Truth



Today is Herb Stempel's 83rd birthday.

If that name doesn't ring a bell for you, that isn't surprising, really. Stempel was a game–show contestant in the 1950s. And I guess his name would have no importance except for the role he played in the investigation that led to the quiz show scandals.

The occasion of his birthday calls for at least a brief retelling of his story.

Stempel, who is still living, was quite successful as a contestant on "Twenty One" — for a time. I've heard that he graded quite high on IQ tests. But he was a manufactured champion. He was coached on the answers and told how to look and sound by the show's producer. It was justified to him the way people today justify broadcasts of pro wrestling — everyone knows it isn't real, it's just entertainment (read: ratings).

The whole thing was driven by demographics, really. Stempel was told he had "plateaued," and the audience wanted someone else. In reality, the sponsor had decided the cause of entertainment (read: better ratings) demanded a new champion, and the successor was Columbia University English instructor Charles Van Doren (who is also still living and turned 83 earlier this year). The two had a series of tied contests that went on for weeks before Stempel finally took a dive at the producer's insistence in December 1956.

I suppose Stempel could have gone silently into that good night, but the producer had promised him a TV job in exchange for throwing the competition, and the promise was broken so Stempel went to the authorities and told them what he knew, and the whole matter was investigated in 1958 by the House Committee on Legislative Oversight, led by Arkansas Rep. Oren Harris.

Stempel had been portrayed as something of a sore loser until the hearings began and his charges held up. A few former contestants stepped forward to corroborate his claims, and one had sent registered letters to himself that contained the questions he would be asked before they were asked.

Then Van Doren himself appeared and told a stunned nation that he had been "deeply involved in a deception," and he confessed to receiving the answers in advance. Van Doren was hailed by the members of the committee for coming forward, but Rep. Steven Derounian, a New York Republican, had none of it.

"I am happy that you made the statement, but I cannot agree with most of my colleagues who commended you for telling the truth," Derounian said, "because I don't think an adult of your intelligence ought to be commended for telling the truth."

While the actions were morally and ethically questionable, they were not illegal (at that time) so no prison sentences were handed down. But, in the end, the producer of the show, Dan Enright, and host Jack Barry lost their jobs, and Stempel and Van Doren went on to somewhat quiet post–quiz show careers.

Nearly 40 years later, Robert Redford directed the film version of the scandal, "Quiz Show," which was nominated for four Academy Awards.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Good News for SEC Fans


(In these uncertain financial times — before you read any farther, I want to make it clear that, when I say "SEC," I refer to the Southeastern Conference, not the Securities and Exchange Commission.

   (I wish I had good news to report about the economy, but I'm afraid you'll have to depend on the nation's leaders.

   (Sorry about that.)



As a graduate of the University of Arkansas living in Texas, I'm always interested in whether Arkansas' football games are going to be televised where I live.

Experience tells me that the key factor in whether an Arkansas game is televised around here is the Razorbacks' record. Even though there are a lot of Arkansas alumni living in this area, the Razorbacks don't tend to get televised here if they're struggling — unless they're scheduled to play a top-ranked team.

The big schools around here are the University of Texas and Texas A&M — with pockets of loyal supporters for SMU, TCU, Baylor, etc. The UT and A&M games are almost always televised — and, if Hurricane Ike hadn't forced Arkansas and Texas to postpone their game until the 27th, I could have watched the Razorbacks play the Longhorns last weekend.

(At this point, no decision has been made about whether the re-scheduled game will be televised — although I'm inclined to believe that it will be picked up, at least as a regional broadcast around here.)

This week, the Razorbacks are scheduled to play ninth-ranked Alabama.

The Razorbacks are undefeated — but unimpressively so, with narrow wins over Western Illinois and Louisiana-Monroe. Not exactly powerhouses.

I haven't found any indications that Arkansas-Alabama will be televised here (perhaps my friends in Arkansas will be able to see the game, but it doesn't look like it will be shown in my area).

But there should be a few pretty intense SEC games to watch tomorrow as it is.
  • At 2:30 p.m. (Central), CBS will show the Florida at Tennessee game. Tennessee has received some modest support in the Top 25 poll but isn't ranked. That would almost certainly change if the Volunteers can beat Florida tomorrow. The Gators are ranked #4 by the Associated Press.

    This game probably won't get high ratings in the Dallas-Fort Worth area because Texas A&M is playing Miami (Florida) at the same time on ABC. But the Aggies appear to be going through a rather painful transition right now, so if that game gets out of hand, I wouldn't be surprised if many area college football fans switch to the Tennessee-Florida game.

  • The big one in the SEC is going to be shown on ESPN starting at 7:45 p.m. (Central). Sixth-ranked LSU will be playing at 10th-ranked Auburn.

    Again, there is some local competition. The #7 Texas Longhorns will be playing Rice on FSN at 6 p.m. (Central). But, by the time LSU and Auburn get started, the Longhorns could well have their game under control.

    Even so, LSU and Auburn is clearly the marquee matchup of the weekend. Cory McCartney writes, for Sports Illustrated, that there are three things for football fans to care about in this game:

    1. "Defense. Defense. Defense." That's certainly true. You're not going to see any video game-like scores in this game.

    2. "Auburn's spread is still very much a work in progress."

    3. "LSU is about to test Auburn's run defense."

    McCartney predicts a close game — but you'll have to read his article to see which team he predicts will win!

    (I'll tell you this much — he thinks 17 points will be enough to win the game.)
Some questions will be answered this weekend, and those answers will have huge implications in the SEC race.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

A Political Film Worth Watching

In my opinion, there may have been no greater actor than Henry Fonda.

There are many actors I admire. I’m an admirer of the work of Jimmy Stewart, Spencer Tracy, Humphrey Bogart, Gary Cooper, Tom Hanks, Peter Sellers, Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Jack Nicholson, Gregory Peck and so many others.

But I guess Fonda tops my list because he had such a magnificent range as an actor. His performances alone made many films memorable.

People remember his westerns (like ”The Ox-Bow Incident,” ”The Tin Star” and ”My Darling Clementine”) and his comedies (like ”The Lady Eve,” ”Mister Roberts” and ”Yours, Mine and Ours”).

They remember his performances in courtroom dramas, like ”12 Angry Men,” and classic stories about important periods in American history, like ”The Grapes of Wrath,” ”Young Mr. Lincoln” and ”The Story of Alexander Graham Bell.”

But I’ve always felt Fonda was especially effective in political stories — whether his character was the president or not.

He gave a thoroughly plausible portrayal of a president in a crisis situation in ”Fail-Safe,” and he was excellent in an Adlai Stevenson-like role as a candidate at a deadlocked convention in ”The Best Man,” which was televised in the first installment of Turner Classic Movies' "American Politics in the Movies" series last Wednesday.

But I want to urge all my readers to tune in to Turner Classic Movies this Wednesday night.

One of Fonda’s most powerful performances, in ”Advise and Consent,” will be televised at 7 p.m. Central time. And, as a bonus, Jimmy Stewart in ”Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” will be televised next, at 9:30 p.m.

Although Stewart’s performance has been deservedly praised, it seems to me that many political films, not just Stewart’s, are structured in a certain way — characters who deserve our respect because they inevitably do the right thing are the heroes of the stories.

Stewart certainly cuts an heroic figure — a starry-eyed dreamer and leader of a Boy Rangers group who tries to take on a corrupt political machine and insists that ”the only causes worth fighting for [are] the lost causes.”

And, in the end, Stewart’s corrupt colleague in the Senate, played by Claude Rains, gives his mea culpa on the floor of the Senate and urges the other senators to ”[e]xpel me! Not him. Every word that boy said is the truth. … I’m not fit for office!”

It’s entertaining, but it's predictable. What did you expect? It's a Frank Capra film!

I think ”Advise and Consent” may be my favorite political movie of all time. The story was a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel written by Allen Drury in 1959. My mother often told me that she read that novel when I was an infant and could hardly put it down, even when she had to feed me!

I read it myself while I was in college, and I found out what she had been talking about. I, too, could hardly put it down, and I got so hooked by the story that I read the ensuing novels Drury wrote in what became a six-novel series.

Drury’s story practically crackles on the screen with moments like the one early in the film, when Fonda (who plays a nominee for secretary of state) says, ”[T]his is a Washington, D.C. kind of lie. It's when the other person knows you're lying and also knows you know he knows.”

It’s kind of a condescending story at times, but it’s a nice change from the typical political movie fare. There’s a very human quality to the characters in ”Advise and Consent,” a gritty realism, whether you’re reading the book or watching the movie (and I recommend both).

The good guys aren’t always good, and the bad guys aren’t always bad.

Kind of like real life, huh?

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

'Tis the Season...


The Kennedy assassination is the topic
of the film "Four Days in November"
to be shown on September 18.

In this political season, Turner Classic Movies will be showing movies with political themes on Wednesday nights in September — including some of my all-time favorites.

Tomorrow night, you can see:
  • "The Last Hurrah," 7 p.m. (Central) with Spencer Tracy.

  • "The Candidate," 9:15 p.m. (Central) with Robert Redford.

  • "The Best Man," 11:15 p.m. (Central) with Henry Fonda and Cliff Robertson.

  • "Nashville," 1 a.m. (Central), directed by Robert Altman.

  • "The Dark Horse," 3:45 a.m. (Central) with Bette Davis.
Keep an eye on the schedule for future presentations, but I can tell you that, in the remaining Wednesdays in September, TCM will be showing films like "Advise and Consent" (with Henry Fonda, Charles Laughton, Walter Pidgeon and an ensemble cast) and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" (with Jimmy Stewart) next week; "Abe Lincoln in Illinois" (with Raymond Massey) the week after that; and "All the King's Men" (with Broderick Crawford) the week after that.

And warm up your TiVo or your VCR.

Two weeks from tomorrow night, a really solid documentary about the John F. Kennedy assassination, "Four Days in November," will be shown at 2:30 a.m. (Central) in the early hours of Thursday, Sept. 18. It packs a lot of material into two hours.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

TCM's 'Summer Under the Stars'

It has become an annual event for Turner Classic Movies, a monthlong celebration of Hollywood stars in August.

TCM calls it the "Summer Under the Stars." Each day is dedicated to a different star, and TCM will show nothing but that star's movies on that day.

The event kicked off on Friday with Michael Caine's films. Yesterday, the featured star was Charlie Chaplin. Today, the star is Gregory Peck.

Other stars who are scheduled for daylong tributes this month are Claude Rains, Katharine Hepburn, Anne Bancroft, Spencer Tracy.

And there are so many more.

Frankly, you can't go wrong with TCM, especially when it has a monthlong celebration in progress — like this month's "Summer Under the Stars" or TCM's tribute to the Academy Awards every spring, the "31 Days of Oscar."

Great movies are scheduled all month, and the best advice I can give you is to check your local TV listings — or Turner Classic Movies' web site.

But a quick check of the schedule revealed a few titles I urge everyone to check out.

For example:
  • "The Boys From Brazil" — 12:45 a.m. (Central), tonight.

  • "The Graduate" — 9 p.m. (Central), Wednesday, Aug. 6.

  • "The Apartment" — 7 p.m. (Central), Saturday, Aug. 9.

  • "Vertigo" — 10:15 p.m. (Central), Tuesday, Aug. 12.

  • "The Maltese Falcon" — 9:30 p.m. (Central), Wednesday, Aug. 13.

  • "On the Beach" — 9 p.m. (Central), Thursday, Aug. 21.

  • "12 Angry Men" — 5:15 p.m. (Central), Sunday, Aug. 24.

  • "Psycho" — 9 p.m. (Central), Tuesday, Aug. 26.

  • "Some Like It Hot" — 7 p.m. (Central), Wednesday, Aug. 27.

  • "Ben-Hur" — 3 p.m. (Central), Thursday, Aug. 28.

  • "The African Queen" — 9 p.m. (Central), Saturday, Aug. 30.
As I say, you can't go wrong with Turner Classic Movies.

And there are lots of movies scheduled this month that you've probably never heard of. But they're all worth seeing.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

TV Journalism Will Miss Russert

Charlie Cook, a political analyst for whom I have a great deal of respect, had this to say about Tim Russert in the National Journal:

"Tim Russert took television's coverage of politics and government to a level comparable to the very best in print journalism," Cook writes. "Unfortunately, that is a rare achievement."

Maybe it is a rare achievement -- these days.

But when I was growing up, it was different.

Maybe we didn't have all the options that people have today, but we had newsmen on television who were serious about bringing the news into people's living rooms -- no agenda, just the facts.

People like Walter Cronkite, David Brinkley, Chet Huntley, Frank McGee, Eric Sevareid, Howard K. Smith and countless others carried on a proud tradition that had its roots in the days of Edward R. Murrow (pictured above).

Journalists like that didn't believe that ratings defined their value to their fellow citizens. Neither did Russert.

Russert knew he was responsible for a sacred trust -- the public's faith that he would deliver the information that was needed to make important decisions.

"Too often, television's imprint on journalism, particularly on cable, is to political journalism what comic books are to literature," writes Cook. "Superficial and overly simplistic, hyperbolic and occasionally demagogic, too often even the most basic standards of reporting and commentary are abandoned without a second thought.

"But any show that Tim Russert was on was guaranteed to be of a standard that could be held up unapologetically to the best in print journalism."


As Bernard Goldberg writes in the Wall Street Journal, Russert had a "willingness to listen to -- and take seriously -- criticism about his own profession."

Cook admits, "I cannot claim that we were close friends, but we were friends and, more importantly, he was one of the ablest professionals I have ever worked with and a terrific person."

What higher praise can a journalist receive than that?

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Harvey Korman Passes Away



"A world without Harvey Korman -- it's a more serious world."

Mel Brooks




There were moments in Harvey Korman's career that will live forever through the magic of video tape and DVD.

Korman died at the age of 81 on Thursday, succumbing to complications from the rupture of an abdominal aortic aneurysm four months ago.

My memories of his career are mostly from his years on The Carol Burnett Show, a classic from that nearly extinct genre, the variety show.

Burnett's show was on Saturday nights. Today, when a show is relegated to Saturday night, it's a sure sign that show is disposable.

In the 1970s, Saturday nights were like pure gold for CBS, which gave viewing audiences an entire evening's worth of classic entertainment every week, starting with "All in the Family," followed by "M*A*S*H," "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," "The Bob Newhart Show," and, finally, the hour-long "Carol Burnett Show."

"We were an ensemble," Korman said, "and Carol had the most incredible attitude. I've never worked with a star of that magnitude who was willing to give so much away."

Korman made people laugh every week for a decade on that show before leaving it to seek success as the headliner on his own variety show.

That wasn't his niche, however. He was more suited for being part of a comedy team, whether it was in his Mel Brooks movie roles or his classic sketches with Burnett or Tim Conway.

"It takes a certain type of person to be a television star," he said. "I didn't have whatever that is. I come across as kind of snobbish and maybe a little too bright. ... Give me something bizarre to play or put me in a dress and I'm fine."

It's a funny thing. When you see something on TV or in the movies that is destined to be regarded as a "classic," you know it, even when it's new and you're seeing it for the first time.

Korman's performances were like that.

I was a teenager when I watched Korman in Brooks classics like "Blazing Saddles." I was even younger when I watched him during his early years with Burnett.

Even 35 years ago, I knew they were classics.

And I will always remember his comic genius -- as well as sharing it with the people who meant the most to me.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Remembering Gandhi

Yesterday was the 60th anniversary of the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi.

To pay homage to the memory of this remarkable man, who introduced much of the world to the concept of nonviolent civil disobedience, I recommend watching the 1982 movie about his life, directed by Richard Attenborough.

Turner Classic Movies will be showing that film this Saturday at 8 p.m. Eastern.

It's a great history lesson and a magnificent reminder of what is possible, even if one doesn't direct great armies and isn't blessed with an important title.

If nothing else, it's an opportunity to recall the words of Albert Einstein after the death of the amazing little man in the loincloth.

"Generations to come, it may be, will scarcely believe that such a one, as this, ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth."

Monday, January 14, 2008

Must-See TV

I don't often do this, but I want all my readers to know about a movie -- actually, several movies -- that will be shown on Turner Classic Movies this week.

This Thursday, at 8 p.m. Eastern (7 p.m. Central), TCM will show "Casablanca," unedited and uninterrupted. You can see Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Peter Lorre, and the whole cast.

Then stay tuned because, at 10 p.m. Eastern (9 p.m. Central), TCM will show "From Here to Eternity," with Burt Lancaster, Deborah Kerr, Montgomery Clift, Donna Reed and Frank Sinatra.

If you have TiVo or a VCR, you can record "To Catch A Thief" at 2 a.m. Eastern (1 a.m. Central), with the incomparable Cary Grant and Grace Kelly.

And you can catch one of my all-time favorites a week from tomorrow on TCM.

"The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" will be shown at 9:30 p.m. Eastern (8:30 p.m. Central) on Tuesday, Jan. 22. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

TV Recommendations

I don't usually make TV recommendations, but today I do have a couple of suggestions to pass along. Please indulge me.

* Is a single year significant in the history of a country? Most of the time, a single year probably isn't significant by itself, only when seen as part of the overall picture.

Tonight, however, The History Channel will be showing a two-hour documentary on such a year -- 1968, which was an extremely significant year from start to finish.

More than most years, it seemed, 1968 had more than its share of triumph and tragedy. And there was no all-news, all-the-time channel to cover it, the way there is today.

It was a year that started with the Tet offensive in Vietnam, which led many people (including Walter Cronkite) to conclude that the United States could never win in Southeast Asia. It was a year that ended with an Apollo space mission at Christmas time that took man closer to the lunar surface than he had ever been (and set the stage for the moon landing the following year).

And, in between, America witnessed the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. in April and Robert F. Kennedy in June, as well as the unexpected withdrawal of President Lyndon Johnson from the presidential campaign in March and the riots in the streets of Chicago at the Democratic convention that nominated Hubert Humphrey for president that summer.

Later that year, Richard Nixon was elected president, setting in motion the events that would lead to the Watergate scandal.

It was a year that affected -- and continues to affect -- politics, culture and race relations in America. From what I've read, the program will present the perspectives of many people, the famous and the unknown.

Hosted by TV journalist Tom Brokaw (who has written books on "the greatest generation" that came of age during the Depression and won the war against the Nazis and the Japanese), the program airs at 9 p.m. Eastern time, 8 p.m. Central time.

It will be repeated at 1 a.m. Eastern time, midnight Central time.

* The other night, I watched a movie on the Independent Film Channel that I've seen on cable before in recent months. Somehow, it slipped under my radar when it was released at theaters in 1996, but I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't seen it.

The film is called "Sling Blade," and it stars Billy Bob Thornton, who won an Oscar for his writing. He was nominated for an Oscar for best actor, too, which he did not win, but he won comparable awards from the Screen Actors Guild and the Chicago Film Critics Association.

Thornton plays a simple man named Karl who has been incarcerated in the state hospital for many years for killing his mother and her lover when he was 12. Karl committed the act with a knife called a "sling blade" (Karl calls it a "kaiser blade"), a curved cutting tool that is often used for clearing brush.

Karl has been deemed "rehabilitated" and is being released from the hospital. He returns to the small town where he lived before the killings and befriends a young boy and his mother.

The cast isn't exactly an all-star cast, but it does have some familiar faces, including the late John Ritter and Robert Duvall. Ritter, who played a straight man pretending to be gay in the TV series "Three's Company," plays a real homosexual in this film and does so with a quiet dignity. Duvall has a cameo role as Thornton's long-lost father that is a masterful performance.

Other cast members you might recognize are Dwight Yoakam and Lucas Black.

It's the only film I can recall in which the last word said by all the main characters (except Thornton's character) is the same: "Karl?" It isn't spoken in unison but in four separate scenes and in four separate contexts.

The film is set in the South. Maybe that's part of the reason the characters seem so familiar to me. Much of it apparently was filmed in a town where I used to live -- Benton, Arkansas. I've also read that Thornton wrote the script in longhand at his family's home in Hot Springs, Arkansas -- a city I've visited on many occasions.

So, while I'll admit that there is a personal connection for me to this film, that doesn't mean it isn't outstanding!

The Independent Film Channel will be showing this film again at 9 p.m. Eastern on Sunday, Dec. 23, and at 3 a.m. Eastern on Monday, Dec. 24.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

TVLand's Icons List

The Top 50 TV Icons were announced on TVLand Friday night. I don't want to spoil anyone's fun, so if you want to see the show for yourself, there will be a few opportunities to do so in the next few days.

In the meantime, you're welcome to look at the Top 10 from the list, as it was posted on TVLand's web site.

1. Johnny Carson

2. Lucille Ball

3. Oprah Winfrey

4. Bill Cosby

5. Walter Cronkite

6. Carol Burnett

7. Mary Tyler Moore

8. Jerry Seinfeld

9. Homer Simpson

10. Dick Clark

The other day, I did a little scattershooting, saying I was sure that certain people would be included. Most of them were, but Don Knotts ("Barney Fife" on The Andy Griffith Show) actually was # 58 on the list and therefore wasn't profiled on the TV special.

I must admit, I was a little surprised he didn't make the Top 50. After all, he was a five-time Emmy Award winner as a regular on The Andy Griffith Show and he won two more Emmys for his guest appearances on the show in the years following his departure. I mean, what else does one have to do to be considered a legitimate TV icon?

TVLand gives you the top 100 on its web site. The TV special gave you the top half of the list.