The broadcast networks recently announced their respective fall schedules in a series of virtual upfront presentations to the advertising industry. Because of the pandemic, last year was the first time since I’ve been in this business that I didn’t see any pilots before the fall season began. This year, as the world is inching back to normal, COVID production schedules are delaying several pilots until later this summer (although I have seen a few).
So, while I had planned to include my predictions of new series hits and misses in this report, that will have to wait until more pilots are available. This report will focus exclusively on how to evaluate the success potential of new series pilots.
In the 40 years or so I’ve been analyzing the television landscape, the benchmark of success for a new broadcast series has continually shifted, with the bar gradually getting lower and lower.
- In the 3-network world of the 1980s, as cable was just starting to impact the broadcasters, if a new show didn’t generate at least a 30 household share (something that simply could not happen today for a regular series), it was considered borderline – even if it won its time period. Although back then, if a network believed in a show it would often be given time or moved to a new time period to see if it could gain an audience. One network was usually so far ahead or behind the pack that giving a show a network head of programming (or his spouse) liked more time had little downside.
- During the 1990s, as three networks grew to four, and then six, and cable began luring away broadcast viewers, a 20 share or a strong demographic performance was good enough for a show to be renewed. The fledgling WB and UPN networks (since combined into CW) had different and much lower metrics of success – they were all about the under 35 crowd.
- Throughout the 2000s, as cable started airing more original scripted series, ratings and shares became less significant as an indicator of success. Rankings became more telling. Finishing first or second in a given time period, ranking reasonably high among certain age groups, doing well relative to your network’s other programming, and holding onto a decent portion of your lead-in audience, all factored into whether a new show would make it to a second season or beyond.
- In the 2010s, as more people started owning DVRs and multi-media devices, and streaming services started to grow, definitions of success became even more nebulous – finishing first or second in a time period, holding a good portion of your lead-in audience, performing well among certain demographic segments, doing well relative to the network’s other programming, receiving a solid audience bump in delayed time-shifted viewing, and having a strong social media following, all contributed to whether a new show was perceived as successful.
How to evaluate the success potential of a pilot episode, however, has not changed all that much over the years. But how long a new show is given to reach that potential has. Today, the network races are closer than ever, with tenths of a rating point often separating first and fourth place. When broadcast networks care more about rankings than growing their audience, potential is sacrificed in favor of anything that might immediately do even slightly better. Gone are the days when a Cheers could debut as the lowest rated show on television, but end its 11-year run in the top-10. Or a low-rated Hill Street Blues could sweep the Emmys and become a hit. Or a Seinfeld can air for three years in mid-season before gaining enough viewers to make the fall schedule. Or a low-rated Miami Vice can become a word-of-mouth hit during summer reruns. Or an Everybody Loves Raymond can debut with low ratings on Friday, move to Monday, and become a hit. Or a show like The Big Bang Theory can finish its first season in 68th place and finish its 12th season as the longest running multi-camera comedy ever.
Traditionally, where a new series is placed on the schedule has been just as important, maybe more so, than the quality of the show. It is still a consideration, but much less so than in years past. At one time, scheduling a new show opposite E.R., CSI, or Grey’s Anatomy, was virtually guaranteed to fail. A new show following Seinfeld, Roseanne, or NCIS, on the other hand, was a good bet to draw a sizable audience. The broadcast world today is much different and more splintered. There is no NBC Thursday night “Must See TV” lineup anymore, when they could throw anything in the 8:30 or 9:30 slot and get a solid rating. There are no 30+ share programs or time periods anymore. A strong lead-in, while still valuable, is not nearly as significant as it used to be. A good show can succeed anywhere and a bad show can flop anywhere. In the era of Peak TV+, the concept of “least objectionable programming,” a phrase with which people under 40 are probably unfamiliar, no longer applies.
So being able to evaluate a new show’s success potential based solely on the pilot episode is more important than ever. Here are some guidelines:
Comedies should be funny because of the characters, not the plot. Questions worth asking when evaluating a comedy pilot – did some specific event happen in the pilot to make it funny? Is it a romantic comedy where the two main characters meet in the pilot? Is it a “fish out of water” comedy where the main character returns to his or her small home town after years of having a career in the big city? Does some poor schlub somehow strike it rich or get some major promotion at work? Does someone not ready for a family inherit his or her sibling’s kids? You get the idea. By the second episode, these plot-driven comedies often become substantially different shows. So even if these pilots are hilarious, you need to look more deeply to determine whether you think it can be maintained on a weekly basis.
In more my 30+ years evaluating television, the two funniest pilots I’ve seen were, The Famous Teddy Z (1989) and The Golden Girls (1985). The former lasted one season, the latter ran for seven.
The Famous Teddy Z starred Jon Cryer as a lowly mailroom clerk at a talent agency, who, through a bizarre sequence of events, becomes the top talent agent at the company. The problem was that by the second episode it was a different show. The events that made the pilot so hilarious no longer existed, and the funny couldn’t be maintained on a weekly basis – and there wasn’t much chemistry among the cast members.
I remember watching The Golden Girls at the NBC Upfront in the days when the networks showed a number of full pilots during their upfront presentations or immediately after. People were literally falling out of their seats laughing. But I don’t remember anything specific about the pilot. I think it was mostly just the four women sitting around a table talking. It was funny because the characters were funny together, not because of anything that happened in the pilot.
In 2017, I cited ABC’s new show, The Mayor (which co-starred Lea Michele, who had become a star on Glee), as one of the best comedy pilots. But I also pointed out that while the events that led up to an aspiring rap singer becoming mayor was both timely and funny, by episode two it would be a different show, and its success would hinge on whether they could maintain the comedy in this new situation (they couldn’t). It lasted just one season. There are many similar examples over the years.
Most of the funniest and longest-running network comedies, from All in the Family, M*A*S*H, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show, to Cheers, Seinfeld, and Friends, to Roseanne, Home Improvement, and Full House, to Everybody Loves Raymond, Modern Family, and The Big Bang Theory, lasted because they had casts that gelled and fit well together. Viewers looked forward to watching slight variations of the same situations week after week – because of the characters, not the plots.
What will a drama’s third episode look like? Does the pilot make a good one-time movie, or will it work as a weekly series? Some of the things you look at to predict comedy success apply to dramas as well. Are there specific guest stars or events in the pilot that drive the story but won’t be there by the second episode?
Medical, police, or legal dramas can seem compelling based on the cases presented in the pilot episode. We need to consider the potential strengths and charisma of the lead characters, and ongoing themes of the series beyond the pilot’s script.
I used to also say that sometimes the pilot might miss the mark but the series could get better over time. Of course, if the pilot misses the mark these days, it usually isn’t given enough time to get better.
I pegged ABC’s The Good Doctor as one of the best medical drama pilots I had ever seen. The characters were strong, and the direction the show was headed seemed clear. It was able to maintain the quality of the pilot from week-to-week and became one of the highest rated shows on television. The same season, I said ABC’s For the People was one of the best legal drama pilots I had ever seen. The characters were strong, and the direction the show was headed seemed clear. It couldn’t find enough viewers and was canceled after its second season.
So why did I think The Good Doctor would appeal to a broader audience, and have a better chance to succeed? It’s not always easy to describe what makes me think one show will work, while an equally good show might not. You often need to look beyond the things that make you like the pilot. I think in this case it came down this – people like to root for a person or a side. With The Good Doctor, the main character is someone people could empathize with or at least root for as he faces the many obstacles that an autistic savant surgical resident might face. Most legal dramas focus on either the prosecutors or the defense lawyers, giving viewers a clear side to root for. For the People presented both the prosecution and defense lawyers as essentially equal sides, with some winning their cases one week and losing them the next. It just seemed to me that would not have as broad an appeal. Another important indicator is that ABC had other programming in the same genre as The Good Doctor, making it easier to promote the new show (given the ridiculous policy of not cross-promoting broadcast series on other broadcast networks). For the People did not have similar programming on its host network – it also debuted in mid-season, which often makes a show harder to market, particularly if a network gives its promotion short-shrift.
Procedural dramas are a lot like sitcoms. They’re essentially situation dramas. Does the cast gel and will viewers want to tune in to slight variations of the same situation week after week? These can be telling when you compare successful procedurals and their spin-offs. The differences between the excellent Criminal Minds and the failed Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior and Beyond Borders, or the original CSI and the short-lived CSI Cyber are dramatic (and demonstrate the importance of good casting – CSI: Miami and CSI: NY were both successful). All of the NCIS’s, on the other hand, managed both the casting chemistry and the mixing of drama and humor quite well (and all were hits). A new entry in the franchise, NCIS: Hawaii, debuts next season. FBI and FBI: Most Wanted are both succeeding, and we’ll soon see if the upcoming FBI: International can follow suit. 911 and 911: Lone Star are both hits. I’m wondering if the new Law & Order: For the Defense will have the same obstacles as For the People (showing the prosecution and defense in equal light), although it has the power of the Law & Order franchise name. In today’s splintered viewing environment, with linear TV on the decline, extending successful franchises is as close to a sure bet as you can get.
Dramas that focus almost exclusively on the characters’ work lives (most procedurals) tend to appeal to older viewers, while those that include just as much emphasis on the characters’ personal lives (i.e., sex lives) tend to appeal to a younger audience.
It typically takes three or four episodes before a drama settles into its regular audience level. New CBS dramas tend to get high viewer sampling – its audience base is the most network-loyal, and they typically check out any new CBS procedural. So it sometimes takes a new CBS drama longer to hit its regular performance level.
For certain types of action series such as The Equalizer, FBI, S.W.A.T., 911, and Seal Team, viewers know exactly what to expect from the get go, and it’s fairly easy to predict how they will perform.
Shows make stars, stars don’t make shows. The failed TV series with major stars attached are too numerous to list here. Who remembers Hugh Jackman in Viva Laughlin, Halle Berry in Extant, Octavia Spencer in Red Band Society, Katherine Heigl in Doubt, Kyra Sedgwick in Ten Days in the Valley, or Edie Falco in Tommy? Just a few examples.
In most cases it’s the show that makes the star, not the other way around. Hit shows, ranging from comedies such as, Cheers, Friends, Seinfeld, Married…With Children, Everybody Loves Raymond, Modern Family, and The Big Bang Theory, to broadcast dramas such as, E.R., The X-Files, CSI, Lost, Grey’s Anatomy, Empire, and This is Us, to cable dramas such as The Shield, The Closer, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy, The Walking Dead, and Game of Thrones, were cast largely with actors who were not well known to the general public at the time.
Some stars, such as Tom Selleck (Blue Bloods) and James Spader (The Blacklist) can bring long-time fans to a new show (and usually appeal to an older audience), but they are the exception.
Established stars (more commonly TV personalities) bring high viewer expectations to a new project, based on previous popular roles, which are often hard to live up to. There are countless people who have starred in one series, but failed in subsequent efforts (and I’m not talking about spin-offs). But some have made the transition from one successful show to another. While both Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Kiefer Sutherland had a failure immediately following their iconic runs in Seinfeld and 24, respectively, she found major success in HBO’s comedy, Veep, and he hit in ABC/Netflix’s Designated Survivor. Michael Weatherly successfully jumped from his role in CBS’s mega-hit, NCIS, to a starring turn in Bull. Likewise, Shemar Moore, who was the most popular character on CBS’s Criminal Minds, successfully left that show to star in S.W.A.T. on the same network.
Broadcast TV series based on theatrical movies generally don’t work. There are a few major reasons for this. Movies are typically designed as a single two-hour contained event, not an ongoing series (unless it’s a Marvel, DC, or other action/sci-fi franchise). Successful movies bring high expectations, which the television version seldom meets. There are also lesser “stars” associated with the TV show than were in the movie.
Between 1971 and 2021, the broadcast networks aired 72 television series based on or adapted from theatrical movies. Only 17 lasted three seasons or more – McCloud (1970-77), M*A*S*H (1972-83), Alice (1976-85), What’s Happening!! (1976-79), The Dukes of Hazzard (1979-85), House Calls (1979-82), Private Benjamin (1981-83), Hotel (1983-88), Mr. Belvedere (1985-90), In the Heat of the Night (1988-94), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003), Clueless (1996-99), Friday Night Lights (2006-11), Parenthood (2010-15), Nikita (2010-13), Hannibal (2013-16), and Lethal Weapon (2016-19). That’s a 24% success rate, significantly less than the 32% rate of the average network series.
During the 2016 and 2017 seasons, there were an unprecedented eight new series based on movies. Only one, Lethal Weapon, was even moderately successful (it was canceled due to on-set turmoil rather than low ratings). The others, Uncle Buck, The Exorcist, Rush Hour, Taken, Frequency, Time After Time, and Training Day did not last long. Since then, there has been only one, CBS’s Clarice, in the 2020/21 season. It won’t be back on broadcast, although it might wind up on Paramount+.
Reboots typically don’t work – unless they do. There have been many reboots of successful and not so successful TV shows over the years. Both the positives and negatives are fairly obvious. On the plus side, reboots are pre-sold concepts that don’t require the same amount of promotional weight as a completely new series to generate awareness. They also tend to receive a fair amount of pre-season buzz. Most will get decent viewer sampling, so if they’re good, they have an above average chance to succeed. On the down side, they tend to carry high expectations, which are often hard to meet. Also, younger viewers are often unfamiliar with the series, and older viewers, who liked the original, are often disappointed with the new version.
Popular shows that come back with the original casts can do quite well (see Dallas, The X-Files, Will & Grace, and The Conners). Murphy Brown, on the other hand, didn’t perform well and was canceled after a single season. Reboots with new casts (e.g., Bionic Woman, Ironside, Dragnet, Charlie’s Angels, Melrose Place, 90210, The Odd Couple) often can’t match the original (particularly if the original had iconic casts) and often don’t last long. There have been notable exceptions. Battlestar Galactica became iconic in its own right, far surpassing the impact of the original series. Hawaii Five-0, MacGyver, and Magnum P.I., did just fine, while Walker and Kung Fu (both reboots in name only) are doing well by CW standards.
So how do you know if a reboot with a new cast will work? You don’t. You need to evaluate them just as you would any other series in that genre, at the same time realizing that it will probably get an above average viewer sampling.
Pilots often look better watched at your leisure than in your regular viewing environment. Over the years I’ve watched pilots at the broadcast networks with other advertising executives, in a conference room at work with media buyer and research colleagues, on VCRs and then DVDs at home, and these days online on my laptop. I watch them at my leisure with no commercials and no distractions.
When the show premieres on television, of course, it will air following some other program, opposite some other programs, and most viewers will simultaneously be doing some other activity. Just because you like the pilot, doesn’t mean you (or other people) will watch it in a real-world setting. Despite the high degree of DVR and time-shifted viewing that currently exists, scheduling and the competitive landscape are still important to a new show’s success.
Don’t buy the buzz. A recent issue of The Sternberg Report was titled, Does Pre-Season Buzz Really Matter? I examined new broadcast and ad-supported cable series over the past 20 years, and found there is virtually no correlation between how much pre-season buzz a new show generates and how successful it becomes once it premieres.
Social media conversations often provides a good indication of whether a show is poised to grow or decline after it’s already on the air but has little impact before the show debuts.
If you are interested in getting the Pre-Season Buzz issue or any other issue of The Sternberg Report, contact me at [email protected].
Most big hits are accidental. My track record of predicting new series hits and misses is pretty good. Roughly 9 out of 10 shows I think will flop do (it’s much easier to pick a miss than a hit). I’m also not bad at projecting which shows will win their time periods. But the big-time hits almost always come out of nowhere (not counting spin-offs). Anyone who says they predicted E.R., Friends, Law & Order, CSI, NCIS, American Idol, Survivor, Lost, Grey’s Anatomy, Blue Bloods, How to Get Away With Murder, Modern Family, The Blacklist, Empire, 911, This is Us, The Good Doctor, or The Equalizer, would be instant hits is lying. You just never know what is going to connect with a broad spectrum of viewers. The next This is Us is right around the corner. But we won’t know it until after it debuts.
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