Here comes a fascinating sociological, commercial TV for the masses experiment.
Ten years ago I brought a sitcom idea to Paul Reiser (I was a writer-producer on both Mad About You and My Two Dads and have been a friend of his for even longer than that).
The idea: Go forth and do the impossible; get the rights to the 30 years library of Johnny Carson's Tonight Show so we can do a sitcom about what all the hilarious insanity that went on behind the scenes of the show in 1970 -- centering on the life and times of a wide eyed Nebraskan born and bred twenty-something kid who is about to accidentally become a runner for the show (and therefore responsible for a ton of on-air screw ups) who is about to grow up really fast as he is introduced to the world of sex, drugs, feminism, rock and roll and all things political and controversial.
The Hollywood pitch: It's Larry Sanders meets Mad Men.
We first met with the Carson Company around the time that Johnny died and although they were intrigued, our timing: not so much.
So onto the back burner it went.
A few months ago, Paul (who by the way appeared on the show with Johnny a few times) suddenly felt the time was ripe for a re-approach... and guess what? It happened! The Carson guys were ready to rock the roll.
Timing is everything in our world. I believe in January the Tonight Show repeats are going to return on (I think) Antenna TV every night at 11P. Nice.
HBO is about to start showing Vinyl -- Terry Boardwalk Empire/Sopranos Winter's show about the world of NY rock and roll in the Plato's Retreat/Studio 51 years of the seventies. (I call him Terry because he was an early discovery of mine when I co-ran Sister/Sister. He was a GREAT guy then and I'm guessing even greater now).
Plus a few months back the NY Times wrote that we were about to revisit the seventies via the world of bell bottomed fashion.
So, wow right?
Well let's just hope.
When I first reported this on social media the response was ENORMOUS -- from anyone who knew and LOVED Johnny (*he averaged 30 MILLION a night, five nights a week. Colbert gets 3. Jimmy Fallon gets 4+).
The times were different then -- certainly just as turbulent and scary (there was a war and a Watergate after all).
Johnny, whose smooth, calm demeanor and sharp as an arrow jokes all presented in groovy Here's Johnny clothes magically managed to keep our nation-sized Titanic from plowing directly into icebergs on a nightly basis.
He was like this gentle giant who read us nighttime stories like the world's best uncle who simply knew how to shush us (with love and a wink) better than anyone else on the planet.
We loved him. We NEEDED him. He was our Jon Stewart kids. Comics LOVED him. An approving wink or (my God) an invitation to sit on the couch next to HIM after a stand up routine could INSTANTLY turn you into an overnight STAR.
Superstars loved him because he LOVED superstars (especially Jack Benny, Jimmy Stewart).
Johnny was a Nebraska born and bred everyman who had made it BIG -- yet middle America could still claim him as their own.
Now the sad reality of growing older in our culture is that everything -- including you -- suddenly becomes part of a slow moving magic disappearing trick. Everything and everyone who is hugely IMPORTANT to you -- stars that eclipsed actual cosmic ones -- don't just fade away. They implode into nothing dust and are forgotten like they never existed.
Bob Hope who? Bing Crosby who? Humphrey Bogart? Is that a new yogurt?
When I first shared the news on my social network about this deal I got THOUSANDS of immediate OMG responses.
You see, Johnny never died. Close loving relatives never do. That Tonight Show theme song is still playing in our heads, the curtains are parting and heeeeerrrrrrres's Johnny.
But will the younger executive see how humongous and important this is? That we are getting you to laugh again with the kind of comedy whose key ingredients are infused with LOVE and MEMORY?
I think the 18-49 group will watch us for the sex, drugs and rock and roll alone. Beatles: done. Simon and Garfunkel: divorced. Crosby, Stills and Nash: Stills born. And here come James, Jackson, Joni, the Eagles, Stevie and on and on.
And while they are dropping in, maybe they will, by association, learn a little bit about the history of comedy (Paul and I are both historians and are PASSIONATE about those that lead us here with enormous sacrifice: Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Richard Pryor. And let's not forget Norman Lear's atomic explosion sized shows).
Paul and I sit prepared to help you journey back for 30 minutes as you laugh yourself back to a time that was and what a time it was. It was.
But the big elephant sized lingering question will be: Will anyone care?
Stay tuned. We'll be right back.