At the Emmys, basic cable as the new specialty divisions

By Steven Zeitchik

Watching the primetime Emmys Sunday night (in-between the Yankee Stadium farewell tearjerking; talk about some award-winning schmaltz), we had this thought: the Emmys have become the Oscars, at least in one very key respect -- they focus on highly specialized programming that's pretty beside-the-point for many American viewers.

Five or six years ago the winners in top categories like outstanding drama and comedy were mainstream hits such as "Everybody Loves Raymond," "Friends" and "The West Wing." This last few years has seen a significantly different story.

Like the best picture nominees at the Oscars this year -- which earned the second-lowest box-office total in the modern era, this year saw the niche get ever narrower at the Emmys as well.

First off, there's the fact that only one out of the five shows that won in the major show categories (outstanding comedy, outstanding miniseries, etc.) is even on network television. And best drama -- for decades indistinguishable from the highest-rated series' (in fact, besides wins for the network-popular "The Sopranos," the award had never gone to a cable series) -- saw fully half of its six nominations go to shows that rarely even draw two million viewers...and to a winner, "Mad Men," that epitomizes the word niche.

That's akin to the Oscar trend this year in which only one of the five best picture nominees earned more than $75 million.

Yes, all this is cyclical, and we're sure in a year or two there will be some network blockbuster that walks off with a gang of Emmys. But it seems to us there's a specific business reason why this is happening on the television side, and it's not dissimilar to the comparable film phenomenon, namely -- the growth of a side of the business devoted to creative excellence relatively free of corporate interference. Just as the film business had (at least until recently) the specialty-division boom, the basic-cable original-programming boom has pretty much followed the same path.

And that means that, for all the differences in the business models, it may also follow the same struggles. The emergence of this prestige-industrial complex has been great for creative output. But, as with the specialty-film business, we shouldn't get carried away. The Emmys give the lie to a notion that's gained currency since the  original programming explosion began about five years ago -- that television has made quality programing democratic.

The argument goes that in an era when the price of a movie ticket has gotten too expensive and the films themselves have become too inward-looking, television offers accessible but artful programming to anyone with a basic-cable subscription. But the goings-on at the Nokia Theater Sunday highlight that it's not that simple. These are still niche shows with niche audiences.

Sure, some of these programs have increased the the reach of pretty high-quality fare (it's hard to imagine 15 million people watching a show like "the Sopranos" before, well, "The Sopranos"). But while the overall quality  gone up, the overall viewership hasn't kept pace. All the people who love "Mad Men" of "The Wire" can't explain away the fact that shows like this rarely break the one- or two-million viewer mark. And everyone who cites the guest roles and inside jokes of "30 Rock" still have no easy answer for the fact that it's a minor hit even by NBC's current modest standards.

Don't get us wrong -- we love that these shows exist. And the fact that they're getting this kind of awards attention means that enough people are noticing that they could develop into blockbuster hits. It's just that any argument about the mainstreaming of these shows is about as credible as saying that "There Will Be Blood" defines the pop-culture zeitgeist.

Comments

[KL]

Two words. The Wire.

The Emmy's are irrelevant. They've ignored the greatest television show of all time, five years running. It's a disgrace.