(7 of 8)
Supertrain was supposed to be the "Little Engine that Could" for NBC, the series that would pull it out of its midseason lows. But the network tried to do a big, complex show in less than half the time it requires. Producer Dan Curtis, 51, played Casey Jones, but even he was nonplused when he was asked last August to execute Programmer Paul Klein's idea. "What the hell is it," he asked, "Love Boat on wheels?" Oh, no, he was told; it would be more on the order of Hitchcock's North by Northwest, mystery-comedy with a high sheen. The nightmare began at once. Set builders hammered away 24 hours a day, seven days a week, often without finished designs to follow. Before the standing sets were finished, the cinematographer and most of his crew had quit, along with all the carpenters and many of the construction workers. The miniatures, used for exterior shots of a speeding train, were wrecked twice, once in a flood, once when an overpowered engine jumped the track. Script and casting problems were just as bad. One script ripped off Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train; another leaned very hard on The Prisoner of Zenda. In addition, most of Curtis' first-choice performers were unavailable so fast. Something eventually came of all the effort, but it scarcely seemed worth the money. Reviews were awful; ratings were as bad. In its last outing, Supertrain received only 19% of the audience.
Like CBS, NBC is giving more money to the Hollywood TV factories, and, as it prepares next fall's schedule, it has 55 pilots to choose from. Instead of being overjoyed at all the work, however, producers are complaining that both CBS and NBC want too much too fast. "Everybody is being drained, and there is a waste of talent," says Ed Montanus, president of MGM television (How the West Was Won, CHiPs). "Some of the really good writers and producers are becoming disillusioned and moving out. We're working in a Barnum & Bailey atmosphere, and the guy with the strongest stomach is going to win."
What those stomachs are supposed to provide is belly laughs, and all three networks are emphasizing comedy, with 15 comedy pilots being considered by NBC alone. Building on Different Strokes, Silverman hopes to win Friday night with laughter, just as ABC's giggles have locked up Tuesday. "People want to laugh," he says. "They just want to look at television and forget their troubles. I'm not a psychologist, but I would imagine that that's the root of the current trend."
The question is how long Silverman has to make good. One of his old bosses, Bill Paley, thinks the test will come next fall; up to now he has not had time, so the argument goes, to show his stuff. Many others doubt that he can do much until the summer of 1980, when the network will automatically command the air waves with the Moscow Olympics. Silverman himself seems to lean toward that timetable. "If I had a crystal ball and predicted what television will look like by the end of 1980," he says, "my judgment would be that CBS and NBC would be on top. But what I learned from Supertrain is that there really are no short cuts, no substitute for careful thought and movement in very deliberate ways. This business of coming in with smoke and mirrors and doing a hat trick is nonsense."