Dallas' fatal femme fires the shots heard round the world
Of course shedunit. The coed vamp with a mean streak as deep as her cleavage. The peddler of her own educated flesh. The Mata Hari of Ewing Oil. The counterspy for that nefarious lawyer Alan Beam. The scheming sister of Mrs. J.R. Ewing. The seducer of that ultimate seducer, Mr. J.R. Ewing, and the self-proclaimed carrier of his child. What apter justice? The person who fired the shots heard round the world was the female J.R., Kristin Shepard.
The surprise is that they did it: the producers and writers of Dallas. They created the world's largest soap bubble and, in the eight months between the shooting of the expansively evil J.R. (Larry Hagman) and the revelation Friday night, somehow kept it from bursting. Nothing could cure the Dallasmania that infects 300 million viewers in 57 countries—not six months of reruns, not another seven weeks' delay in the fall premiere because of the actors' strike, not three penultimate episodes of red herrings, white knuckles and blue-blooded angst. The people in the know—about 40 executives of Lorimar, which produces Dallas, and CBS, which broadcasts it each week—performed like a choir of Deep Throats. They answered the media barrage for inside dope with strategic volleys of misinformation. They kept their delicious secret for the same reason J.R. lays waste to Texas' rich and beautiful: because it is so much fun.
But why did the huge TV audience agree to play along? Ken Kercheval (J.R.'s luckless adversary Cliff Barnes) may have the answer: "The audience wants to know but they love not knowing." In the past few weeks newspapers have spread the latest Dallas trivia across their front pages. Las Vegas bookies have offered daily odds on the culprit (in the final line, Kristin was the favorite). Pundits have made merry speculating on the identity of the gunperson: Columnist Art Buchwald fingered David Brinkley because the scheduling of his NBC Magazine opposite J.R. had driven Brinkley to the bottom of the ratings.
Producer Leonard Katzman admits he was concerned that the show's appeal would fade over the summer. "When you do a cliffhanger, people can stay with it or just say 'Forget it.' We worried terribly about the actors' strike—the fear of losing our momentum with so many reruns." Yet the summer reruns drew Texas-size audiences, in some cases even larger than the originals. Says Executive Producer Philip Capice: "This proved that the serials will be watched again and again, even if people know the end."
When the final push began in early November, with four episodes aired on four nights, the ratings exceeded Lorimar's wildest hopes and David Brinkley's darkest fears: up to 6 1 % of the viewing audience. The following week Dallas was again the top-rated show. And the Great Revelation won the largest audience in the history of series television. In New York 65% of all sets turned on were turn ing on to Dallas, in Los Angeles 68% and Chicago a whopping 76%; Katzman pre dicts an 80 share nationwide. For him and Capice, this means vindication. For CBS, which pays Lorimar a reported $650,000 to air an episode and sold a commercial minute on last week's Dallas for $500,-000, it meant a profit of $2,350,000.