Battle of the Network Stars

Long before they could embarrass themselves on reality television, television actors could embarrass themselves by competing in a network sporting competition. On ABC's Battle of the Network Stars, celebrities from the three major networks would compete against each other for a $20,000 prize for each member of the winning team.

The proceedings were hosted by Howard Cosell himself, who lent undeserved gravitas to the event.

The biggest attraction appeared to be the opportunity to see the celebrities getting soaked in various states of undress.

The advent of the fourth major network, coupled with Howard Cosell's retirement marked the end of this Battle. No doubt the larger pay checks commanded by the network stars also contributed to the demise of the show as well. After all, most of the stars would prefer a guaranteed payout these days.

TV Live!

Practically all television was broadcast live in the early days. Much of it originated from New York. After television began recording programs for later broadcast, production shifted to Los Angeles and live productions became a thing of the past.

In the 1990's, however, the television networks saw live broadcasts as a way to inject interest in shows that were falling in the ratings or get bigger ratings for successful shows. Fox chose to air live episodes of its underrated series Roc, which got a boost from the fact that its cast was used to performing in front of live audiences on Broadway.

ABC saw a ratings bump from doing live episodes of The Drew Carey Show. Taking advantage of its cast's standup and improv experience, the live episodes brought larger audiences to the show.

No network, however, has gotten as much mileage out of live stunt broadcasts as NBC. The network has gone to that well time and time again, using the gimmick on ER:

The West Wing:

And most recently 30 Rock:

Television History: ABC Presents "Disneyland"

In the early days of television, the movie studios saw TV as an enemy. At that time, the networks had to produce their own programming because the established movie studios wouldn't do it for them.

ABC, the weakest of the big three at the time, aggressively sought to partner with a movie studio. It would put them on the map and signal to the world that the network meant business. Unfortunately, there weren't any takers- until Walt Disney approached them with a proposition; invest in his "crazy" idea called "Disneyland" and he would produce a weekly show for them. They weren't interested in a theme park, but they were willing to invest if Walt created a show for them. The agreement was reached and ABC gained instant credibility. Walt Disney gained a weekly program where he could promote the theme park he was building in Anaheim and money to begin construction.

When it came time to produce the special that would introduce Disneyland, ABC put all hands on deck to figure out how accomplish the Herculean task of covering such a huge event spread out over 160 acres in a working theme park. (Whatever that entailed.) The A-Team was up to the task and requisitioned the miles of cabling, hundreds of cameras and all the various other equipment needed from around the country. The cost would be staggering.

The rewards, however, would be staggering. The also-ran network that had gained a bit of credibility by luring Walt Disney was successful beyond its wildest dreams. The 90 minute live broadcast crushed the competition, attracting a record audience of over 90 million viewers who watched on virtually every television in existence at the time. Neither CBS nor NBC had ever attracted such numbers, even combined. The live special put both Disneyland and ABC on the map. The historic broadcast took place on July 17, 1955- exactly 60 years ago.

"Be-Bop Bamboozled"

Lazy "Left Sharks", Hot Dog on a Stick costumery, wardrobe malfunctions? Recent Super Bowl tastelessness doesn't hold a candle to the tacky, tawdry Super Bowl half times of the 1980's. Before the NFL just hired big name talent to perform for 15 minutes, they used to stage campy productions that made "Toddlers and Tiaras" look classy and understated by comparison.

Eager to send the decade out with a bang, the NFL and Coca Cola commissioned what was billed the world's first live 3-D extravaganza- "Be-Bop Bamboozled". Viewers who purchased specially marked cartons of Coca-Cola were given 3-D glasses to view this landmark event. At halftime, the Cincinnati Bengals and San Francisco 49ers were tied 3-3; it was the lowest first half score in Super Bowl history. Viewers were watching a barn burner, but all that was paused as Bob Costas traded in his dignity to ask us to put on our ridiculous Coca-Cola glasses and watch "Be-Bop Bamboozled".

We'll totally remove this picture, Mr. Costas, if the price is right...

What followed was 15 minutes of hokey card tricks, gimmicky "effects" and blindingly fluorescent colors. It was a snapshot of the go-go '80s, bizarrely themed to the 1950's.

It's the Gary Busey/Pointer Sisters Variety Hour!

Audiences were befuddled. Did that really happen, or did we all drink ourselves into a stupor and slam our heads into the coffee table? Before we knew it, the show was over and we were left to ponder the tastelessness of it to ourselves- Twitter hadn't been invented yet so our clever wise-ass comments were NOT recorded for posterity. 

The game continued, with the amazing Cincy kicker Jim Breech becoming the de facto MVP, kicking the team to what seemed like certain victory and on the way to the congratulatory DISNEYLAND parade. Unfortunately, Cincinnati's defense checked out and its seeming curse checked in, permitting the San Francisco team to squeak ahead. Jerry Rice would be the MVP and the garish halftime show would become an almost forgotten relic.

Irwin Allen's Disaster

In the 1960's, Irwin Allen was the king of sci-fi television. His classic Lost in Space was hugely successful. In the 1970's he turned to films, creating the film genre that would take the decade by storm- the disaster film.

With 1972's Poseidon Adventure, Mr. Allen lucked into a genre that would serve him well for the next decade. Seen as a visionary, Mr. Allen was bombarded with requests from the networks, who begged him for huge event programming. Mr. Allen didn't disappoint, producing self-explanatory disaster films such as Flood!' Fire!, and Hanging By A String. These disaster films all used Mr. Allen's formula of casting has-beens, up and coming stars and character actors, putting them in harm's way, then producing a melodramatic film. One of his last disaster films was The Night the Bridge Fell Down.

In 1978, NBC commissioned Mr. Allen to go back to the well one more time and produce a two part disaster mini-series. Having exhausted most other disaster types, Irwin chose a falling bridge for this film. (Hard to miss that plot considering the title of the film.) The movie starred a Pre-Airplane! Leslie Nielsen, James MacArthur and a Post-Brady Bunch Eve Plumb.

Mr. Allen pulled out all the stops for this one; there's the bureaucrat who ignores all the warnings about the titular bridge, a sick baby, young love, nuns. After watching four hours of near misses and melodrama, even Mr. Rogers would be hoping the bridge collapses taking these people with it. By the time the film was completed, the bottom had fallen out of the disaster genre. Irwin Allen had milked it for all it was worth and audiences were tired of such films. NBC put the film on the shelf and it didn't actually air until February 28, 1983. If that date sounds familiar, it's because M*A*S*H ended its historic run the very same night. NBC had given this disaster film a suicide mission.

FDR on TV

The very first U.S. President to appear on television was Franklin D. Roosevelt, who appeared on a black and white broadcast during the 1939 World's Fair in New York.

The First Televised Oscars

In 1953, the 25th Oscar ceremony was broadcast on television for the first time. Hosted by Bob Hope, the show was telecast from both New York and Hollywood.

The film that won best picture was The Greatest Show on Earth, widely considered to be the worst film to ever win the honor.

The First Super Bowl

The first Super Bowl, called the "AFL/NFL Championship Game" at the time, aired on both NBC and CBS. NBC carried the AFL games, while CBS aired the NFL games, so this was seen as an acceptable compromise. 

The game was broadcast live from Los Angeles. While the NFL Packers won the game over the AFL's Chiefs, the AFL's network NBC beat CBS in the television ratings.

The hype over the commercials aired during the game had not yet begun and there was no importance attached to them. Only one advertiser chose to air commercials on both NBC and CBS- McDonald's.

"It's A Wonderful Life" and "Road House"

Every Christmas, millions of people watch the timeless classic It's A Wonderful Life. Millions more stumble upon a similar classic while drunkenly flipping through cable channels- the immortal film Road House. Two movies that share much in common. Wait, what?

Yes, it's true. There are startling similarities between the Jasper, Missouri of Road House and the hell hole of Pottersville, the alternate universe in It's A Wonderful Life. Most people forget what life in Bedford Falls would have been like if George Bailey had never been born.

Full of neon and wanton women, Pottersville is supposed to be a frightening place. There's divey bars full of trashy, loose dames:

Wild, boisterous fights:

Shady establishments filled with sultry harlots catering to perverts:

Run by a tyrant interested only in money:

Sound familiar, Road House fans? The Jasper, MO of Road House would give Pottersville a run for its money.  There are sleazy dives:

Trashy, loose women:

Sultry women catering to perverts:

And wild, boisterous fights:

All in a town run by a greedy tyrant:

.

Both Dalton from Road House and George Bailey even have frumpy, frigid women to deal with:

But while they may have had similar experiences, they resolve their problems in strikingly different ways....

George Bailey discovers that life is beautiful and merely chooses to reverse his wish that he was never born, thus relegating "Pottersville" to non-existence:

Dalton from Road House cleans up Jasper by kicking ass and taking names:

So while many folks will celebrate the holidays with the traditional, heartwarming story of one man's importance to his family and friends, maybe it's time to have a Patrick Swayze Christmas this year!

The First TV Guide

The very first issue of TV Guide featured Desi Arnaz, Jr. whose birth inspired the first major broadcast event on television.

Who Was Dora Hall?

Curious viewers in the 1970's, looking for anything to watch one Saturday evening, might have happened on a strange program. Brought to them by the Solo Cup Corporation, Once Upon a Tour, starred Frank Sinatra, Jr, Roosevelt "Rosey" Grier, Rich Little, Phil Harris and "introduced" Dora Hall. Dora Hall?!?!

Why were these random performers thrown together? And who was Dora Hall? Dora Hall, better known as Dorothy Hulseman was the wife of Leo Hulseman, owner & CEO of the Solo Cup Corporation. Is it beginning to make sense now? Mrs. Hulseman had been a cabaret singer in the 1920's when she met Leo Hulseman. They married and she gave up her career to become a wife, mother and grandmother. Having deferred her dreams for forty years, the sixty something dynamo finally decided to do something about them. Using the fortune they had built from their disposable cup company, Leo Hulseman started up his own record companies and "Dora Hall" was born.

But how would he get his beloved wife's records distributed? Regular record companies were skeptical and assumed nobody would buy records performed by an elderly grandmother. So Leo decided to do it all himself, making Dora Hall's records freebies, available to Solo Cup customers. Larger items had the records packaged with them. Smaller, cheaper items had proofs of purchase that could be mailed in exchange for a record of "Top Chart Hits!" While the Hulsemans certainly believed that people would like these albums, they didn't really promote Dora Hall as being the singer, at least not on the packaging or mailers. People didn't realize they were getting songs sung by a sixty-plus year old grandmother until they opened the package.

Her first broadcast special was originally offered to the networks as a fully sponsored special that would run during prime time. None of the networks accepted it, so Leo self-syndicated the special, offering local stations an hour of programming they were being paid to air. (Filled with commercials for Solo Cup products.) Based on the previously mentioned lineup of "celebrities", Dora Hall was pretty much surrounded by performers who were mainly interested in getting a paycheck.

So while some have mocked Ms. Hall for her vanity albums and fake record labels, she's actually a fairly decent singer. Would she have been a recording star without the backing of Solo Cup? Probably not, but she would have given a wonderful show at the local senior center. And besides, who can mock a seemingly nice lady whose husband was merely letting her pursue the dream she deferred for him? Rather than a story about a vain woman and her clueless husband, the whole thing is actually kind of sweet.

Ms. Hulseman/Hall passed away in 1988 at the age of 88.

The Wizard of TV

When The Wizard of Oz first premiered, Louis B. Mayer had high hopes for his technicolor fantasy. Walt Disney had a huge success with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs a few years earlier so MGM was enthusiastic about its family fantasy. The reality, however, was quite different. Despite the lavish budget, The Wizard of Oz was a money losing failure. It would be quickly forgotten and considered a disappointment. Louis B. Mayer would scrap plans for a sequel and sell the Oz rights to his good friend Walt Disney, who never used them in his lifetime.

In the 1950's, however, the film's fortunes would change. The new medium of television would be desperate for programming and turn to Hollywood for packages of films it could buy the rights to air. Initially reluctant to assist, the studios soon warmed to the idea of licensing lesser films for broadcast. Eager to make some extra bucks off old, failed product (the networks weren't too picky) MGM jumped at the chance to wring some cash out of The Wizard of Oz. The movie made its broadcast premiere on CBS in 1956. This time, however, American viewers would wildly embrace a film it had resisted 17 years before. The broadcast was a massive hit, reinvigorating a film MGM had seen as being a mere footnote. Over subsequent airings, The Wizard of Oz would find the fans it couldn't muster in theaters and became a retroactive classic. Had the film not been given a chance by CBS, it very well could have become forgotten. Instead, the new medium of television had proven that it could be a force to be reckoned with and a valuable partner for the film studios.