ll right, so the outlook for challenging sci-fi TV on the networks this
season is a little grim [see previous column]. The major networks have never done sci-fi
successfully; the good shows (The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) have always come from the
"weblets," where huge audiences are not expected or required or, in the case
of UPN, even possible.
The true home of sci-fi television is in syndication and cable, where
programs can be "narrowcast" to just the right viewers. It was the inability
of sci-fi shows, including classic Star Trek, to reach that broad network audience
that kept sci-fi largely off the air. Of course, this was before the
explosion of independent stations and cable suppliers. (Saying it was "last
century" makes it seem even more remote, doesn't it?)
But now, in our braver, newer world, we have the syndicators like Tribune and
MCA, plus outlets like Nickelodeon (children's programming has always skewed
heavily toward sci-fi and fantasy) as well as the odd or occasional supplier
(TNT). Of course, there's our very own SCI FI Channel.
Searching for sci-fi
Showtime also has its "Sci Friday," anchored by Stargate SG-1, already in
production for its fourth season. The Outer Limits has run its course, and Total
Recall 2070 vanished some time back; no word yet on replacements, but you can be
sure Showtime is searching for them.
SCI FI's Farscape seems to be finding an audience; certainly the
critical response to the series has been increasingly positive.
(In the interests of full disclosure, I have written scripts for both Farscape
and Stargate this season, so will refrain from praising the series
themselves, limiting myself to enthusiastic comments about the intelligence,
wit and physical beauty of their producers.)
Lovely Xena: Warrior Princess continues to battle her way through her own
fantasy world. Other series which could be classed as heroic fantasies, or
Indiana Jones-style adventures, include The Lost
World, Peter Benchley's Amazon, and BeastMaster.
Then there are the shows that deal with secret or not-so-secret wars against
aliens and demons in worlds that often resemble ours--Gene Roddenberry's
Earth: Final Conflict and good vs. evil.
We've even got one outright and fairly charming comedy series, Honey, I
Shrunk the Kids, as well as the sci-fi world's answer to V.I.P., Cleopatra
2525. Not to mention Lexx. (The only thing that stuns me about Cleo is the
fact that it took some executives this long to attempt a series about
large-breasted women in small dresses.)
And there's more to come. Tribune is about to commence production on Gene
Roddenberry's Andromeda, which, based on title length alone, should be an
improvement over its predecessor. Andromeda has been developed by the capable
Robert Hewitt Wolfe, formerly of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
There's also The Immortal, another idea that will be tried over and over
again until it works (it was originally a series on ABC almost 30 years
ago). Plus Witchblade, about which I know very little.
And, finally, a series of classic (which is to say, public domain) H. G.
Wells stories from the new Odyssey network.
Remember, too, that every new show is competing with every old sci-fi series
ever produced. Lost in Space, Hercules, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, all
the various Twilight Zones and Star Treks, Sliders. Five years of Babylon 5. God knows how many episodes of Doctor Who.
Maybe this is all good. Maybe there are millions--tens of millions--of
viewers out there who are happy to devote one or two hours per day to viewing
these shows.
Or, is there too much sci-fi on television?
Not enough of you to go around
I've always believed it takes a certain kind of person to appreciate science
fiction and fantasy. Someone who has the ability to suspend disbelief, who
enjoys characters and stories set in worlds that don't exist, who wants to be
shaken and/or stirred in ways that aren't available to the viewers of Frasier
or E.R. I've never had reason to believe that these special types made up more than
10 percent of the population. I mean, of the TV-watching population. I
would bet that 10 percent is a generous estimate.
Which means there aren't enough of you to go around, to pay the cable
subscriber fees or buy the products in the ads. Not for two dozen sci-fi
series.
Not for half as many. A third as many.
So how are all these shows staying alive? Why are new ones being born?
Well, for one thing, syndicated and cable shows, for the most part, are
produced for far less money than your typical network show. Having far less
money--certainly less than $1 million per hour--means you
make compromises. You're not likely to be basing your series on some classic by, say, Robert A. Heinlein or Greg Bear or William Gibson,
because the rights and royalties would cost too much. (Recall my cheap shot
about "free" H. G. Wells stories.)
You can't film in the U.S. because production costs are too high, so you
wind up in Canada and, more recently, Australia or New Zealand, where, for
example, $500,000 U.S. buys 50 percent more production (crew members,
sets, time) than it does here. Series like Xena, BeastMaster, Lost World or Relic Hunter do benefit from the exotic locations. (You aren't going to find great jungles within 30 miles of the Hollywood sign.)
But other series are hurt when it comes to basic production skills, special
effects, writing, directing and casting. (How many actors are there in
Wellington, New Zealand, compared to New York or Los Angeles?) It's rare
that any syndicated or cable series reaches its full potential. And some of
them have moments that are embarrassing. (Since you asked, I will only point
to the Taelons in Earth: Final Conflict.)
A good glut
Well, I have always believed that success in television is not directly
related to production values. A good story, an intriguing setting, or Jeri
Ryan's costume can still get people tuning in week after week.
It's even sort of churlish for a writer like me to complain about the
overabundance of sci-fi TV, since many of these shows are potential
markets for me. (Though after a few more columns like this, maybe not.)
Nevertheless, I page through my TV Guide, noting the dozens of hours of
sci-fi, new, old, and yet-to-come, and ask myself how long this can go on.
When does the sci-fi TV world come in for a "correction"? Wouldn't it be
nicer if there were half as many programs and they were produced with more
money?
But then I look back on shows I like and shows I worked on, and have to admit
that many of them wouldn't have survived had more money been at risk and had the
stakes been higher. The X-Files would never have been filmed at CBS in 1994; it
barely made it on the air at Fox. Babylon 5's first-season ratings were
too low to justify renewal anywhere but on P-Ten. God, not NBC, knows how Eerie, Indiana managed to survive long enough to film 18 episodes.
The glut of sci-fi TV is a good thing.
Hand me that remote, will you?
Michael Cassutt has been a writer and/or producer for a
number of SF and fantasy television series, from The Twilight Zone and Max Headroom through Eerie, Indiana, The Outer Limits and, most recently, Seven Days. He is also the author of a number of books on space flight, two dozen science fiction short stories and, most recently, a novel about NASA titled Missing Man (paperback from Tor, March 2000).
