Showing posts with label comcast nbc deal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comcast nbc deal. Show all posts

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Conflict Disinterest


I wish I had time to elaborate more on this but considering that I've devoted a good amount of copy both here and at the Huffington Post to beating the living crap out of NBC Universal for the shamelessly cross-promotional profit machine it's become, what you're about to see should come as no surprise at all.

This morning, the Today show's Meredith Vieira softballed NBC reality show star and perennial national punchline Donald Trump on both his bullshit flirtation with a run for the White House and his sudden rise to the position of King of the Birthers. She did this while trumpeting -- wait for it -- an NBC News/WSJ poll that supposedly puts Trump among the top GOP contenders for president should he choose to run once his fucking television show wraps this season.

You really have to see this circus-like nonsense to believe it -- not just because it's such an awesome display of personal and professional hubris on the part of both Trump and NBC as well as an almost unfathomable Möbius loop of meta-media self-promotion, but because it really does feel like it marks the nadir for a once-great and respected television network. Really, all that's missing is for Top Chef winner Richard Blais to be cooking for Trump on a GE stove while some guy from Comcast installs cable in the background.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Goodbye and Good Luck


I'll make this quick because it's my last full day with Inara and I'd rather spend my time with her than think about anything involving TV news or politics.

Keith Olbermann is out at MSNBC because he's an uncontrollable, incorrigible, monumental pain in the ass; he typically refuses to be appreciative of or beholden to his bosses or the network's interests in general and somebody at the top finally realized he just wasn't worth all the trouble, particularly not with the Comcast deal now unforgivably rubber-stamped and the most "vampire squid"-like media monolith in history about to become a reality. The Comcast people are cleaning house at NBC as it is; it wouldn't surprise me if they made it clear to Phil Griffin that Olbermann needed to be off campus by nine o'clock Monday morning and that his local draft board would be informed that he was eligible for military service. No, I don't think there was some kind of secretive corporate cabal working against him behind the scenes; I leave that sort of conspiratorial ruminating to the Glenn Greenwalds of the world. It's probably more that he's a thorn in the side of just about everyone and, as I said, from a cost-benefit perspective, his bullshit just wasn't worth it anymore.

I'm not saying that all of this isn't a shame, because it certainly is. Olbermann's is an unapologetically progressive voice that shouldn't be silenced. His narcissistic drama queening is surpassed only by his intelligence, wit and sheer balls, and they'll be missed, at least until he finds some other outlet for them (although off the top of my head I can't imagine what that might be). While it's true that he helped to put a machine in place at MSNBC prime time that can probably now function without him, it won't function as well as it would have with him. Love him or hate him, he's a singular personality and despite the fact that he's a self-centered asshole -- as many true talents are -- what he brought to the table shouldn't have been easily dismissed. Or, in Olbermann's case -- after years of tumult and mutual acrimony with the NBC News mothership -- not so easily.

Whatever their differences, NBC and Olbermann should've been willing to compromise for the sake of a mutually beneficial relationship. But as anyone who's ever tried to make it work with a whack-job or a control freak knows, sometimes you just can't.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Downward Spiral


I rarely repost a piece within just a few months of its initial release on this site or at the Huffington Post, but this morning I want to republish the wrap I did on the whole Conan/NBC/Leno debacle from January for one important reason: The story is back in the headlines in a huge way, and once again the main players in this drama are taking sides and accusing each other of all sorts of malfeasance. Take for instance NBC, which is now claiming that Conan O'Brien lied during his 60 Minutes interview last Sunday night when he said that it would've cost the network more to buy out Leno than it would have to simply move him back to his old time slot and give the "new guy" the boot. It's amusing at face value that NBC management thinks anyone should trust anything it has to say at this point, given recent history, but there's no underestimating the effect that all that rarefied air at the top of the New York City skyline tends to have on what were once ostensibly just average guys in suits. That said, two things should never be forgotten: A) the original decision to move Leno to 10pm was never about producing quality or even ratings but was instead all about making money on an unbelievably dirt cheap show, and B) Unlike Conan, Leno was allowed to fail during his original run on The Tonight Show for years before he finally found his footing and turned into the unfunny and apparently indestructable juggernaut he is today. This piece, by the way, as it appeared at HuffPo, is generally the first thing that pops up if you Google my name -- which means, I guess, that somebody's been reading it.

"My City of Ruins" (Originally Published, 1.12.10)

Maybe it's time I made something clear.

Back when I was a cocky 23-year-old producer at WSVN in Miami, I was heavily courted by a guy named Don Browne who at the time was the general manager of NBC's owned and operated station in Miami, WTVJ. He badly wanted me to jump ship and become his 11pm producer and he was willing to blow big, billowing clouds of smoke up my ass to make it happen; among the compliments he lavished on me during one particular power lunch between the two of us was a claim that he saw in me the next Jeff Zucker. Now in 1993, Zucker was considered NBC's new boy wonder -- named executive producer of the Today Show at just 26-years-old. So even though I had basically stumbled into TV and had yet to take the entire industry the least bit seriously, I understood that a big-gun at NBC -- and Browne was a Jedi Master in the ways of the Peacock, having been the executive VP of news for NBC at one point -- mentioning me in the same breath as Zucker wasn't the kind of flattery you simply shrugged off. And I didn't -- even though I made the choice to stay at WSVN briefly before heading to Los Angeles to work for KCBS.

I say that I didn't shrug it off because I always kept Browne's praise in the back of my mind and in late 1997 when it became clear that I had allowed myself to become little more than comfortable in my discomfort at KCBS, I put out feelers to Don Browne -- who had expressed a genuine desire to keep in touch with me and promised to always take my call if I felt like I wanted to talk about my career, the business, whatever -- and sure enough, he welcomed the idea of making room for me at WTVJ. As it turned out, the station was going through a regime change, with another NBC wunderkind, 28-year-old Ramon Escobar, having just taken the reins as news director. Browne flew me to Miami, had me meet with everyone and made me an offer I honestly couldn't refuse -- which kind of befit his status as an intimidating Godfather within the NBC power structure.

I'll always be glad I made the decision to go to WTVJ, as it remains one of the best work experiences of my career -- the people there more like family than coworkers. The thing to keep in mind, though, is that one of Don Browne's major selling points during his attempt to draft me was that I wouldn't be working for just anyone -- I'd be working for NBC. To hammer that reality home, he even flew me to New York City to visit 30 Rock; sit in on the Today Show; make it crystal clear that I was going to be a part of something extraordinary. The entire experience was exhilarating -- and it marked the first time that I truly appreciated the career that I had stepped in by accident, the abilities that I had largely taken for granted up to that point.

Bottom line: I was proud to work at NBC. So proud in fact that I continued to work for the company when I moved back out to L.A. with the wife that I had met at WTVJ. So proud that I couldn't have been more thrilled that my shot at personal and professional rebirth and redemption in the wake of 9/11 came from MSNBC and my former news director, Ramon Escobar.

I can occasionally be a bit of a feisty pain in the ass as an employee -- I believe that most decent newspeople are -- but that doesn't mean that I didn't spend years thinking of NBC as my home. It was, to me at least, a shining beacon of terrific programming and rock solid journalism, and one that I felt honored to be a part of.

I bring this up because it should be obvious by now that I pick on NBC quite a bit in the stuff that I write here and at the Huffington Post. Many regular readers have noticed and even confronted me on the seemingly curious fact that I take aim at NBC Universal far more than I even do Fox News Channel.

So I guess I felt like it was time to explain myself: Call it tough love -- borne mostly out of sadness, frustration and, occasionally, outright anger.


Over the past few years, I've watched NBC go from being the network I believed was consistently devoted to excellence above every other consideration -- committed to the notion that, as Don Browne used to say, "First be best, then be first" -- to one that will sacrifice not just quality but any and all ethical considerations in a relentless pursuit of profit. Don't get me wrong, as a company NBC is in the business of making money and there's nothing at all wrong with that -- it just used to achieve that end by offering audiences the best programming and news coverage on television. It was best, which is why it was first, which is why it made money. But somewhere along the line network executives -- particularly and ironically Jeff Zucker, who was named CEO of NBC TV in 2005 and then CEO of the NBC Universal empire in 2007 -- decided that cash would be the only consideration, that it could be amassed without even earning it by means of great shows and a consistently above-the-board news operation at the highest levels of management, and that the rise of cable and non-traditional media provided the perfect excuse for making this kind of major paradigm shift. The shareholders likely thought Zucker was brilliant for expanding NBC's properties across several platforms then turning each into a giant promotional machine for the others until "NBC product placement" was all any NBC show or network was good for; for hiring a worthless, self-obsessed hack like Ben Silverman to dumb down prime time; for bringing in bags of money while slashing costs, culminating in the cynical for-profit-only ploy that put Jay Leno in prime time five nights a week. Unfortunately, while get-rich-quick schemes tend to work well in the short-term, they can be devastating long-term -- and Zucker's not so myopic that he shouldn't have realized this about the business model he'd adopted. There was no meat in the tasty-looking sandwich he was serving day after day, and with the collapse of the Leno show, the impending unceremonious exit of Conan O'Brien and the P.R. cataclysm both have caused for the network, almost everyone, maybe even the mighty shareholders looking down from Olympus, can now see that.

What's happened at NBC -- already a perennially anemic network -- over the past week has been, quite simply, one of the most shameful fiascoes in the history of modern broadcast television. We're talking one for the ages. Pushing out Leno to keep Conan O'Brien was questionable enough a move; giving Leno a prime time slot despite the threat of rebellion from the affiliates whose revenue stream you'd be damming up, just because it'd be a corporate cash cow, was worse; pulling the plug to save a giant deal with Comcast Cable was worse still. Now this: taking back the show that was given to Conan to keep him from jumping ship all to keep Leno from jumping ship -- forcing Conan to gracefully and humbly bow out because he refuses to tarnish the good name of a legendary NBC brand, one that NBC itself apparently has no compunction about making radioactive. It's breathtaking, sociopathic incompetence. It doesn't even make good business sense because, once again, the short-term fears of the twitchiest suits might be salved -- Leno's deadly show at 10pm is six feet under and Conan's underperforming stint on The Tonight Show is cut short -- but the chilling effect that this will have not only on audiences but on any young talent from which you might hope to cultivate loyalty is utterly decimated. Why should anyone trust anything an NBC executive says from here on out?

This is the problem NBC Entertainment Chief Jeff Gaspin is facing right now as he tries to clean up the mess and duck the fire caused by the spectacular implosion of NBC's 10pm and late night lineup (to say nothing of what was left of the network's tattered reputation) and the exit of one of its marquee talents -- the disaster that "boy wonder" Jeff Zucker essentially created. And where is Zucker while all this is going on -- while Gaspin's head is in the crosshairs? Who knows. He hasn't made a public appearance or granted an interview since the crap started rolling downhill last week; I'd like to think that he's in a bunker somewhere honorably falling on his sword, but given that his contract was just bafflingly renewed for another three years, that seems an unlikely scenario. Make no mistake, though -- that's exactly what needs to happen.

I'm willing to concede that Jeff Zucker's meteoric rise was made possible only by his seemingly bottomless reservoir of creative short-term fixes for whatever problems he was confronting at any particular moment, and that the shareholders had demanded that he cut costs and increase profits. But a willingness to take potentially profitable gambles, while admirable, comes with an inherent risk: Somebody needs to pay when a poorly thought-out experiment -- a shockingly obvious "quick fix" -- fails to the tune of millions of dollars, the loss of a bankable star, and a public relations nightmare that has the potential to threaten a proposed mega-merger. And there's no doubt that the person who should pay for this instantly legendary clusterfuck is the man at the top who instigated the whole thing: Jeff Zucker.

That likely won't happen, of course. In fact, if you believe what David Carr of the New York Times posted on Twitter yesterday, behind the scenes Zucker is walking around blaming Conan for letting him down by delivering a low-rated show. If this is true, it's astonishing while, strangely, not the least bit surprising -- and it makes Zucker the personification of all that's wrong with corporate America these days. No one takes responsibility; everyone passes the buck; it's always the fault of the victim; and when everything falls apart and the whole thing goes to shit while you're in charge, you get to keep your high-paying job and arrogantly pretend like nothing ever happened.

Here's how it should work: You roll the dice and lose -- you pay up and leave. It feels like anything but a coincidence, though, that neither the guy who created this disaster -- Zucker -- nor the guy who will immediately benefit from it on the air -- Leno -- has the good sense to put humility above ego and step aside. Neither, apparently, will accept the consequences of his actions or an unlucky turn of the cards.

For Leno it's really no surprise: He's a good guy but he's been coasting on ironically aimless ambition, unable to tell you why he wants what he wants only that he wants it, for years. But Zucker shouldn't be able to delude himself; the wreckage piled around him is simply too deep to ignore. NBC is now in ruins, and it happened under his watch and because of his actions.

I never did turn out to be Jeff Zucker, obviously. I was never as focused, didn't have the Harvard education and generally didn't care as much about the business of television as he did. True, I unfortunately didn't get to be a CEO and make ten million a year. But I also won't go down in history as the man who destroyed NBC.

All I'll do is be heartbroken that it happened.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Go Directly To Jail


So the moral of the story is: Refuse to let NBC extort money from you for its interminable coverage of the 2010 Who-Gives-a-Shit Winter Olympics; get screwed out of unrelated MSNBC programming.

Mediaite: NBC Punishes Cable Providers Who Didn't Pay for Olympics Feed by Airing Prison Documentaries on MSNBC Mornings/2.17.10

Can't wait for the Comcast deal to really make NBC the media equivalent of the Mafia.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

My City of Ruins


Maybe it's time I made something clear.

Back when I was a cocky 23-year-old producer at WSVN in Miami, I was heavily courted by a guy named Don Browne who at the time was the general manager of NBC's owned and operated station in Miami, WTVJ. He badly wanted me to jump ship and become his 11pm producer and he was willing to blow big, billowing clouds of smoke up my ass to make it happen; among the compliments he lavished on me during one particular power lunch between the two of us was a claim that he saw in me the next Jeff Zucker. Now in 1993, Zucker was considered NBC's new boy wonder -- named executive producer of the Today Show at just 26-years-old. So even though I had basically stumbled into TV and had yet to take the entire industry the least bit seriously, I understood that a big-gun at NBC -- and Browne was a Jedi Master in the ways of the Peacock, having been the executive VP of news for NBC at one point -- mentioning me in the same breath as Zucker wasn't the kind of flattery you simply shrugged off. And I didn't -- even though I made the choice to stay at WSVN briefly before heading to Los Angeles to work for KCBS.

I say that I didn't shrug it off because I always kept Browne's praise in the back of my mind and in late 1997 when it became clear that I had allowed myself to become little more than comfortable in my discomfort at KCBS, I put out feelers to Don Browne -- who had expressed a genuine desire to keep in touch with me and promised to always take my call if I felt like I wanted to talk about my career, the business, whatever -- and sure enough, he welcomed the idea of making room for me at WTVJ. As it turned out, the station was going through a regime change, with another NBC wunderkind, 28-year-old Ramon Escobar, having just taken the reins as news director. Browne flew me to Miami, had me meet with everyone and made me an offer I honestly couldn't refuse -- which kind of befit his status as an intimidating Godfather within the NBC power structure.

I'll always be glad I made the decision to go to WTVJ, as it remains one of the best work experiences of my career -- the people there more like family than coworkers. The thing to keep in mind, though, is that one of Don Browne's major selling points during his attempt to draft me was that I wouldn't be working for just anyone -- I'd be working for NBC. To hammer that reality home, he even flew me to New York City to visit 30 Rock; sit in on the Today Show; make it crystal clear that I was going to be a part of something extraordinary. The entire experience was exhilarating -- and it marked the first time that I truly appreciated the career that I had stepped in by accident, the abilities that I had largely taken for granted up to that point.

Bottom line: I was proud to work at NBC. So proud in fact that I continued to work for the company when I moved back out to L.A. with the wife that I had met at WTVJ. So proud that I couldn't have been more thrilled that my shot at personal and professional rebirth and redemption in the wake of 9/11 came from MSNBC and my former news director, Ramon Escobar.

I can occasionally be a bit of a feisty pain in the ass as an employee -- I believe that most decent newspeople are -- but that doesn't mean that I didn't spend years thinking of NBC as my home. It was, to me at least, a shining beacon of terrific programming and rock solid journalism, and one that I felt honored to be a part of.

I bring this up because it should be obvious by now that I pick on NBC quite a bit in the stuff that I write here and at the Huffington Post. Many regular readers have noticed and even confronted me on the seemingly curious fact that I take aim at NBC Universal far more than I even do Fox News Channel.

So I guess I felt like it was time to explain myself: Call it tough love -- borne mostly out of sadness, frustration and, occasionally, outright anger.


Over the past few years, I've watched NBC go from being the network I believed was consistently devoted to excellence above every other consideration -- committed to the notion that, as Don Browne used to say, "First be best, then be first" -- to one that will sacrifice not just quality but any and all ethical considerations in a relentless pursuit of profit. Don't get me wrong, as a company NBC is in the business of making money and there's nothing at all wrong with that -- it just used to achieve that end by offering audiences the best programming and news coverage on television. It was best, which is why it was first, which is why it made money. But somewhere along the line network executives -- particularly and ironically Jeff Zucker, who was named CEO of NBC TV in 2005 and then CEO of the NBC Universal empire in 2007 -- decided that cash would be the only consideration, that it could be amassed without even earning it by means of great shows and a consistently above-the-board news operation at the highest levels of management, and that the rise of cable and non-traditional media provided the perfect excuse for making this kind of major paradigm shift. The shareholders likely thought Zucker was brilliant for expanding NBC's properties across several platforms then turning each into a giant promotional machine for the others until "NBC product placement" was all any NBC show or network was good for; for hiring a worthless, self-obsessed hack like Ben Silverman to dumb down prime time; for bringing in bags of money while slashing costs, culminating in the cynical for-profit-only ploy that put Jay Leno in prime time five nights a week. Unfortunately, while get-rich-quick schemes tend to work well in the short-term, they can be devastating long-term -- and Zucker's not so myopic that he shouldn't have realized this about the business model he'd adopted. There was no meat in the tasty-looking sandwich he was serving day after day, and with the collapse of the Leno show, the impending unceremonious exit of Conan O'Brien and the P.R. cataclysm both have caused for the network, almost everyone, maybe even the mighty shareholders looking down from Olympus, can now see that.

What's happened at NBC -- already a perennially anemic network -- over the past week has been, quite simply, one of the most shameful fiascoes in the history of modern broadcast television. We're talking one for the ages. Pushing out Leno to keep Conan O'Brien was questionable enough a move; giving Leno a prime time slot despite the threat of rebellion from the affiliates whose revenue stream you'd be damming up, just because it'd be a corporate cash cow, was worse; pulling the plug to save a giant deal with Comcast Cable was worse still. Now this: taking back the show that was given to Conan to keep him from jumping ship all to keep Leno from jumping ship -- forcing Conan to gracefully and humbly bow out because he refuses to tarnish the good name of a legendary NBC brand, one that NBC itself apparently has no compunction about making radioactive. It's breathtaking, sociopathic incompetence. It doesn't even make good business sense because, once again, the short-term fears of the twitchiest suits might be salved -- Leno's deadly show at 10pm is six feet under and Conan's underperforming stint on The Tonight Show is cut short -- but the chilling effect that this will have not only on audiences but on any young talent from which you might hope to cultivate loyalty is utterly decimated. Why should anyone trust anything an NBC executive says from here on out?

This is the problem NBC Entertainment Chief Jeff Gaspin is facing right now as he tries to clean up the mess and duck the fire caused by the spectacular implosion of NBC's 10pm and late night lineup (to say nothing of what was left of the network's tattered reputation) and the exit of one of its marquee talents -- the disaster that "boy wonder" Jeff Zucker essentially created. And where is Zucker while all this is going on -- while Gaspin's head is in the crosshairs? Who knows. He hasn't made a public appearance or granted an interview since the crap started rolling downhill last week; I'd like to think that he's in a bunker somewhere honorably falling on his sword, but given that his contract was just bafflingly renewed for another three years, that seems an unlikely scenario. Make no mistake, though -- that's exactly what needs to happen.

I'm willing to concede that Jeff Zucker's meteoric rise was made possible only by his seemingly bottomless reservoir of creative short-term fixes for whatever problems he was confronting at any particular moment, and that the shareholders had demanded that he cut costs and increase profits. But a willingness to take potentially profitable gambles, while admirable, comes with an inherent risk: Somebody needs to pay when a poorly thought-out experiment -- a shockingly obvious "quick fix" -- fails to the tune of millions of dollars, the loss of a bankable star, and a public relations nightmare that has the potential to threaten a proposed mega-merger. And there's no doubt that the person who should pay for this instantly legendary clusterfuck is the man at the top who instigated the whole thing: Jeff Zucker.

That likely won't happen, of course. In fact, if you believe what David Carr of the New York Times posted on Twitter yesterday, behind the scenes Zucker is walking around blaming Conan for letting him down by delivering a low-rated show. If this is true, it's astonishing while, strangely, not the least bit surprising -- and it makes Zucker the personification of all that's wrong with corporate America these days. No one takes responsibility; everyone passes the buck; it's always the fault of the victim; and when everything falls apart and the whole thing goes to shit while you're in charge, you get to keep your high-paying job and arrogantly pretend like nothing ever happened.

Here's how it should work: You roll the dice and lose -- you pay up and leave. It feels like anything but a coincidence, though, that neither the guy who created this disaster -- Zucker -- nor the guy who will immediately benefit from it on the air -- Leno -- has the good sense to put humility above ego and step aside. Neither, apparently, will accept the consequences of his actions or an unlucky turn of the cards.

For Leno it's really no surprise: He's a good guy but he's been coasting on ironically aimless ambition, unable to tell you why he wants what he wants only that he wants it, for years. But Zucker shouldn't be able to delude himself; the wreckage piled around him is simply too deep to ignore. NBC is now in ruins, and it happened under his watch and because of his actions.

I never did turn out to be Jeff Zucker, obviously. I was never as focused, didn't have the Harvard education and generally didn't care as much about the business of television as he did. True, I unfortunately didn't get to be a CEO and make ten million a year. But I also won't go down in history as the man who destroyed NBC.

All I'll do is be heartbroken that it happened.

(This post has been revised slightly, an update edited into it, in the interest of making it self-contained in the archive.)

Monday, January 11, 2010

Mistakes Were Made


Three really good pieces today on the NBC-Leno-Conan debacle:

Chuck Ross at TV Week looks at why NBC suddenly gives a crap about its affiliates after basically telling them to go suck eggs for the last several months. (Here's a hint: Surprise, surprise -- it has everything to do with the proposed Comcast deal):

"OK, let’s review: (Jeff) Gaspin (NBC Universal TV Entertainment chief) says the only reason he’s yanked the Leno show in primetime is because about a third of his affiliates may have started preempting the show. And that it wasn’t the actual preemptions that would have bothered him, but the bad publicity that would accompany just the threat of preemptions. Furthermore, this publicity would be a public relations nightmare and would damage NBC, Gaspin says...

Come on. NBC, the once proud peacock, has gotten so much bad publicity in the last few years as the architect of its own demise that it’s the Tiger Woods of media...

But isn’t he kidding himself, ladies and gentlemen of the jury -- and us as well -- if he doesn’t think that an honest connecting of the dots inevitably and irrefutably leads to the conclusion that the reason NBC all of a sudden fears another 'PR nightmare' right now is because they are indeed worried about the political fallout it could have on the Comcast deal.

Gaspin says he’s just doing his job and does not hear footsteps from Philadelphia. But clearly one of the jobs of a top executive at NBCU today is to ensure that the Comcast deal gets done, since management of NBCU and parent General Electric have said they believe that the consummation of the deal is in the best interests of the company."


The New York Times's David Carr examines NBC's embarrassingly public midlife crisis and wonders what it will mean for NBC Universal chairman Jeff Zucker, whose incompetence has turned a once-proud television network into a nationwide laughingstock:

"It was Mr. Zucker who decided to fix the network’s problems in prime time by putting late night franchises in play and it was, in the end, Mr. Zucker who decided that the solution to bailing out a leaky boat was to blow more holes in the bottom.

Mr. Zucker has a three-year contract with his incoming bosses at Comcast, who will probably notice that everything around him is now horribly damaged. Not since New Coke has a storied brand been so thoroughly maimed. 'The Tonight Show,' once a gilded entertainment franchise, is now just one more broken toy in the mistake pile...

After a series of bold moves, the network is now trying to hedge its way out of the corner, by slipping “Leno” later back in the schedule, which effectively pushes Mr. O’Brien and Jimmy Fallon of “Late Night” deeper into the night...

The message to the younger talent is one thing -- wait for a turn that may never come or may be taken back at any second -- but the message to younger audiences is even clearer: a legacy industry will default to legacy assets and ride them down to the bitter end."


And the irascible Nikke Finke over at Deadline Hollywood notices that while Zucker screwed everything up, it was Gaspin who had to fall on his sword:

"Jeff Gaspin got right down to it because that's what the TV critics and reporters wanted: his first public statement on NBC's late night debacle orchestrated by NBCU boss Jeff Zucker. Of course, Zucker was MIA, leaving Gaspin to clean up the mess and face the press at the Television Critics Association confab this morning.

Afterwards, Gaspin was mobbed onstage by the media, who were surprised to hear him claim that he made the decision to pull the plug on The Jay Leno Show in primetime and then move it to 11:35 PM and in the process shakeup the network's late night -- not Jeff Zucker. (Talk about a failure of leadership at NBC Universal!) 'I called Jeff and said, but this was not news to him, 'It’s time we make the call.' He said, I don’t remember the exact words, but he understood and he didn’t disagree.'"


One more thing: Jeff Gaspin, NBC Universal's embattled head of entertainment TV, who replaced talentless douche Ben Silverman in July of last year, is an MBA who got his start as NBC News's director of financial planning. In other words, although he's an accomplished programmer for VH1 and Bravo, he began his career at NBC as an accountant.

That tells you all you need to know, folks.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Biggest Losers


You knew this was coming: The Comcast-NBC Universal buyout is a done deal, at least insofar as all the parties involved have come to an agreement on the figures.

Now the only thing that can possibly stand in the way is the government -- and you, the people who'll be the most negatively affected by this sale.

A few days ago, I called the resulting Comcast-NBCU behemoth the Goldman Sachs of media companies. Josh Silver of Free Press is echoing that sentiment.

The Huffington Post: "The Mega-Media Era Begins" by Josh Silver/12.1.09

Monday, November 30, 2009

The Biggest Peacock on the Block


So it looks like the sale of NBC Universal to Comcast cable is now all but certain.

What this will do is create the largest, most vertically integrated, most powerful media company in the world -- one which stands unique in the business because it will be the first to control both content production and distribution on a massive scale. We're talking about the ability to dominate not just the film and television markets but internet service as well, which could put Comcast in the position of being able to do everything from price-gouge consumers, to restrict its wealth of NBC and Comcast programming -- Bravo, E!, SyFy, USA, Telemundo, MSNBC, etc. -- to actually force customers to buy specific services only offered by Comcast if they want access, either on TV or the net, to NBC programming and Universal films.

In other words, say hello to the Goldman Sachs of media companies. Comcast NBC Universal will own a stake in almost everything you see and hear.

Josh Silver of Free Press sums it all up perfectly:

The Huffington Post: "Too Big To Block" by Josh Silver/11.13.09 (Updated)