Paul Raven

Wow ! Thanks for sharing that. So did early Y&R have background music completely borrowed from other Columbia soundtracks or was there original stuff also? That second theme I think was primarily used for Snapper with that languid, brooding music meant to reflect Snapper's personality.

Variety Aug 5th 1959 Laurie Peters and Clarence Derwent have lead roles in an episode of new NBC series 'House on High Street'. Dec 9th 1959 Horace McMahon,Benye Gatteys and Jan Miner join 'House on High Street' week of Dec 21st. Feb 3rd 1960 Sylvia Davis into 'House on High Street.' James Elward did the premiere script.

Billy Nalle was the organist for YDM. Variety Feb 17 1960 Model Lix Gardner joins Young Dr Malone cast Tues 23.

Re the background people. I'm sure this is a budget thing as when an actor speaks they have to be paid more. I'd imagine TD, like other soaps of the time were produced on a tiny budget to maximize profit. So any way they could save money they would. I also read that once an actor had over 5 lines they became a dayplayer and from then had to paid at that higher rate,so the producers avoided giving them extra lines. I wonder when Carolee went on contract? Did she start as an extra,then u/5, then dayplayer before graduating to contract status? Also,I would think that the show had a certain budget for each week and to pay for something more grand eg Nick and Althea's wedding( which required a special set,costumes,extra actors etc) they would have to cut back in other weeks to balance the books. Or did NBC or C/P throw a little extra there way for this?

A soap at 8.30 in the morning! I think that would be a record.

LIAMST Add Maureen Mooney as Jill Gordon. Mooney was also on TD according to the article that Carl posted in the GL thread.

Gotta love Suzanne! Re Mickey/John Clarke's age.I'm not sure how old Mickey was supposed to be in 65,but surely not 34.That's a problem with hiring an actor who is already older than his character. Reading the Mickey story summaries,he fizzled out by the late 70's. The stories given to Mickey and Maggie - the wife beating neighbors.Janice /alcoholism and the surrogate were all poorly executed.And then there was the awful Mickey presumed dead/Don/Maggie fiasco. Makes me wonder if in some ways it would have been better to drop Mickey and Maggie in 1980,and keep Bill as the older Horton,falling in love with someone but torn as his wife is in the sanitarium. Not that Ed Mallory aged any better... Gotta love Suzanne! Re Mickey/John Clarke's age.I'm not sure how old Mickey was supposed to be in 65,but surely not 34.That's a problem with hiring an actor who is already older than his character. Reading the Mickey story summaries,he fizzled out by the late 70's. The stories given to Mickey and Maggie - the wife beating neighbors.Janice /alcoholism and the surrogate were all poorly executed.And then there was the awful Mickey presumed dead/Don/Maggie fiasco. Makes me wonder if in some ways it would have been better to drop Mickey and Maggie in 1980,and keep Bill as the older Horton,falling in love with someone but torn as his wife is in the sanitarium. Not that Ed Mallory aged any better...

Ron Tomme,Sally Stark, Audrey Peters,Drew Snyder,Tony LoBianco and Toni Bull Bua

I guess this is around 69? Can we identify everyone in the photo?

1975 photo

Mart was awfully cute at this time but didn't age well

This article talks about how execs felt TV soaps needed to be lighter fare than radio counterparts with FHY putting that into practice.That theory was soon proved wrong... NEW YORK, Dec. 9.-Television soap operas, which teed off with Procter & Gamble's (P&G) First Hundred Years on CBS this week will spread sweetness and light and an optimistic philosophy, in contrast to their radio progenitors. The video serials will shy strictly away from the stock in trade of the AM weepers these many years --divorces, illegal surgery, triangles, deaths and miscarriages-of justice and otherwise. The sentiment among agency and web execs is that the terrific impact of tele, plus its realism via the graphic, would mean the psychiatrist's couch for many fem viewers if given repeated doses of the radio formula. The result is that all efforts are being bent toward angling the TV serials along lines of optimism, uplift and the good old home-and-hearth line. An interesting aspect is the strong use being made of radio serial scripters and producers. First Hundred Years, on CBS, is a Jean Holloway presentation. NBC is using such folk as Carl Bixby (Life Can Be Beautiful) for its forthcoming Susan Peters soaper, and John Haggart for Family Doctor. Al McCleery, who will pro- duce-lirect Family Doctor, put in a considerable apprenticeship working for Frank and Anne Hummert. Carol Irwin, packaging Candy and Bill for NBC, formerly headed the daytime radio division of Young & Rubicam. In cases where the scripters have no TV experience, they are nevertheless being given their head, with reliance on the production staff to insert picture value. So Tender! Story lines indicate the direction being followed. First Hundred Years is a tender tale of young marriage, while Candy and Bill is a domestic comedy. Hawkins Falls, stressing small town humor, tends to glamorize the goodness of people. Susan Peters' vehicle, Miss Susan, will be a tale of the heroic try of a gal to make her way despite being confined to a wheel chair, paralleling the saga of Miss Peters herself. NBC execs indicate that, altho the gore may be gone, the cliffhanger aspects of soapers will remain. But it won't be on the basis of the gal nearing the buzzsaw or lying tied to the railroad tracks. The complications, instead, will have to be angled to avoid dread. In some quarters, it's expected that this may force the creation of an entirely new brand of literature, that of writing a cliff-hanger sans cliff.

Posted this in Discuss The Soaps but it belongs here also IN DAYTIME TV, THE GOLDEN AGE IS NOW BY AGNES ECKHARDT NIXON The term must be defined, of course, its usage analyzed. Since the phrase is customarily employed to designate the past, it would seem that a certain interval of time is required to give any era the full, connotative glow of those words. Thus, one wonders if Aeschylus or Sophocles knew, while in the throes of creation, that his was a Golden Age? Indeed, did Paddy Chayefsky, Tad Mosel, or Horton Foote, as they struggled to fit their work to the dimensions of the small screen console themselves with the thought that they were making television history? Or were they, rather, plagued by the medium's then inexorable limits of space, time and money? Did they anticipate the catastrophes which can befall a live show? Finally, were they upset by the sure knowledge that the result of their labors, no matter how brilliantly produced and acted, would - after that one performance- vanish forever into the ether? To be sure the script remained, as did the director and the actors -save those who had been knocked unconscious by a boom mike, broken a leg by tripping over a cable, or suffered a nervous breakdown from those thirty second costume changes. And so, pragmatically speaking, the show could be recreated. But the mystical coalescence of all that talent, the special moment of magic was irretrievably lost. Still it was a Golden Age of creativity and credibility-as we all acknowledge now -perhaps because of the traumas as well as in spite of them. Well, the trauma may have been forgotten, but it wasn't gone.... It simply moved to daytime, where the dramatic serials grapple with the same old perils and pitfalls five times a week, 52 weeks a year, with never a hiatus and nary a rerun. In case you're interested, that's 260 original half -hour episodes per annum, each produced in a single day, either live or live -on -tape. And how we do it is a question we frequently ask ourselves, since all our nighttime neighbors are too busy -doing 13 or maybe six originals a year -to inquire. We suffer all the illnesses, births, deaths, psychic traumas, accidents, and natural disasters known to man. Yet the show must -and always does -go on. Now, I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression; if the above sounds covetous it's only because we are. Not greedy, just envious. We envy evening hours their vaster amount of time and money, their lavish style of planning, casting and rehearsing. We covet the space and freedom for interior shooting as opposed to our daily ration of four small studio sets. Upon occasion, we even become paranoid over the fact that our efforts, once aired -no matter how good - are gone forever. We'd also enjoy the residuals. Having heard that daytime TV provides more than 60 per cent of the networks' profit, we may be forgiven for feeling unappreciated now and then. Despite all these handicaps. the daytime drama with which I have been associated has held to a high standard of excellence. We're professionals, from stagehands to leading ladies. Still, our art has not been accorded the high respect it deserves, though it surely is rising in public esteem. If we're unappreciated, you may ask, why do we work so hard in daytime TV? What drives us? That our jobs pay well is surely part of the answer. But it is not the basic one. Moreover, our salaries are meagre alongside the prevailing nighttime scale. No, some other factor must account for the amazing esprit of these companies. I believe it is the pride and stimulation that comes of performing well in the face of all our restrictions and handicaps. Aside from ability, our work requires a stamina, a tenacity and self discipline of which many people -even talented people -are incapable. Thus a sense of elitism, as intense as it is idiosyncratic, sustains us. (After all, if the Roman gladiators could have it, why not we ?) Creative satisfaction also comes from presenting a type of dramatic fare -and often, in the process, performing a public service- which, by its very genre, is unique in television. For a serial to be successful, it must tell a compelling story about interesting, believable characters. Characters with whom the audience can personally identify or emotionally emphathize. The ingredients are the same for any good dramatic presentation, except for one basic difference: the continuing form allows a fuller development of characterization while permitting the viewers to become more and more involved with the story and its people. In a nighttime series, though the leads are placed in different situations and challenges week after week, their characters are fairly set. They do not progress or undergo mutations, as the program continues. In the serial, however, some characters work toward maturity while others regress; they go through psychological cycles, run emotional gamuts from weakness to strength, from love to hate, from cowardice to bravery. Gone are the days of the cardboard cast, the super- saccharine Helen Trents, Young Dr. Malones and Mary Nobles. Protagonists with whom the viewers most identify today, the ones they champion most, often take the wrong step, make the wrong judgment and must suffer the consequences. They're human. That suffering of the consequences is, this writer submits, key to a serial's popularity and longevity. For any dramatic entertainment to be a success in 1972 it must be relevant. And relevance repudiates the cliché of the sunset fadeout, of Nirvana on earth. In contemporary society, the mind viewing the small screen knows, if it knows anything at all, that life is not perfect, and that man has caused the imperfections. Has caused them and must "suffer the consequences" -from a family quarrel to a global war. Thus a certain kinship is established between the fictional characters with their problems and the viewer at home with his. The viewer naturally wishes to see how these TV neighbors cope with their misfortunes, day by day, week in, week out, year after year. Audiences are bound, not by the chains of hero worship, but by the easily recognized common bonds of human fraility and human valor. Naturally, staying contemporary and topical means that our plots and our style are more sophisticated now than ten, or even five years ago. But all forms of entertainment are more sophisticated today. Soap opera is simply keeping pace with that trend. We must, however, always bear in mind the motley nature of our audience, and the responsibility which that wide spectrum of viewers -from preschoolers to octegenarians -imposes. Still, observing all guidelines we have gone far. We have done the story of a young college couple living together without benefit of clergy. We had the first legal abortion on television. We have dealt dramatically with the subject of male infertility and, in the near future, we shall explore the problem of female frigidity. Perhaps the most gratifying aspect of "relevance," is the way it has permitted us to incorporate into our "soaps" many socially significant issues, to educate viewers while we are entertaining them. One is not suggesting for a moment, however, that this service has been performed solely by daytime shows. But implicit in the serial is the opportunity to give an important subject an in -depth treatment, over weeks and months, which is impossible on any nighttime series that must have a new theme, or message, in each episode. Thus, a five month campaign to inform women of the efficacy of the Pap smear test in detecting uterine cancer in its early stages brought a bonanza of mail from appreciative women across the country, many of whom, having followed our advice and discovered the condition in themselves, claimed we had saved their lives. For almost two years we told the story of a young Negro woman of light pigmentation who passed as white. This sequence was done primarily because it furnished us with an intense. absorbing drama that attracted viewers. But the mail response substantiated our belief that it was absorbing because it was relevant and because it explained to the viewers the sociological motivations for such a denial of heritage and race, due to the rejections suffered by the young woman from both the black and white communities. The ultimate tragedy we were presenting was simply another instance of man's cruelty to man, instigated by ignorance and prejudice. In a drug abuse sequence, after taking six months to bring a teenage character -in whom the audience had great interest -to the point of serious drug involvement, we made a daring departure from our fictional format by introducing "Cathy" into the reality of the Odyssey House Drug Rehabilitation Center in New York City. Once on location there, with eight real -life teenage ex- addicts, no thought was given to prepared scripts or rehearsal. We simply taped, hour after hour. over three consecutive days, marathon group therapy sessions. Here these intense, highly articulate kids related their own experiences and the messages they had for young Americans, and their elders, on the subject of drugs... . The tapes of the sessions were then edited into briefer, self -contained segments, and presented throughout the summer in twenty different episodes. When 17 -year old Austin Warner calmly spoke of having slashed his wrists, not because he wanted to die but because he was a lost, confused youth seeking affection, his words had a devastating impact. An impact I challenge the best writer or actor extant even to approximate. When Wendy Norins said, "Cathy, it's not a weakness to ask for help; if people hadn't cared about me eleven months ago when I first came into the program, I would probably be dead on a slab," young viewers knew, by the magic transmitted only through truth, that Wendy was not speaking soley to Cathy, but to each of them personally. Our "pitch" to Dr. Judianne Denson -Gerber, executive director of the various Odyssey Houses in and around New York, had been that the medium of a soap opera -many of whose viewers, of all age groups, are not the sort who read periodicals or even their daily newspapers, and who would be apt to turn off a documentary program on drug addiction -could be the means of disseminating a vital message to the people most in need of receiving it. The huge number of letters, telegrams and phone calls -for which we were at first totally unprepared either in manpower or emotionally- showed us how right our thesis had been. More recently, we have had an eight month campaign to educate viewers - particularly the young ones -to the endemic proportions of venereal disease and all its ramifications. We followed this with an article on the subject - supposedly written by a young reporter on the program -which we offered free to any viewer who requested it. "Venereal Disease: A Fact We Must Face And Fight" also gave the address of the Venereal Disease Branch of the Public Health Service for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia, for anyone wishing to get further information on setting up some type of educational program in his (or her) own community. Over 10,000 requests for the article were received by ABC and, according to William Schwartz, educational consultant for the Public Health Bureau, letters arrived at his desk from all over the country in a steady stream, all as a result of the story and the printed piece. To quote Mr. Schwartz, "We were never before able to reach, effectively, the teenagers who are most in need of this information but you have now shown us how it can be done." Our next project, still in the planning stage, is the subject of child abuse which is rarely mentioned because it is so abhorrent even to consider. Yet it does exist, to a horrifying degree, and needs to be brought to light. Other relevant topics we have dealt with include ecology, mental health - particularly the very common anxiety- depression syndrome -the danger of carbon monoxide poisoning in the home, a returned POW and a young soldier missing in Vietnam. These are only some of the subjects treated on only a few of the soaps. There are many other fine serials, on all three networks, done by talented, dedicated writers, producers and actors, similarly motivated and equally effective.... It is surely superfluous to add that if they were not garnering an audience they would be taken off the air. No form of entertainment receives more criticism, or ridicule, than soap opera. The term has become a cliché of literary denigration and we are the frequent butt of jokes and parodies within our own industry, even on the air. Certainly we should be the last to say that we have no faults. But occasionally we do wonder how nighttime's offerings would look, by comparison, if they had to meet our output and our production schedule? We ponder how much they might accomplish under the same circumstances. It is what we manage to achieve in this regard, despite our failings, that fostered the temerity of my title. We are in a Golden Age and we are making the most of it. AGNES ECKHART NIXON's television career began with live evening drama when she wrote for STUDIO ONE, HALLMARK. PHILCO, ROBERT MONTGOMERY PRESENTS, and SOMERSET MA UGHAM THEATRE. In the daytime serial field, she created "Search For Tomorrow," co- created "As the World Turns" with Irna Phillips, was head writer on "The Guiding Light" and "Another World" and most recently created, and packages "One Life To Live" and "All My Children" for ABC. She has had at least one program on the air, five days a week, year round, for the past 17 years.

So all of the elements were in place at GH.Popular actor that TPTB were behind,major storyline,playing a similar character to the one that brought him success,yet Mark Dante didn't have anywhere the same impact of Nick Bellini. Maybe it was lacklustre co-stars,poorer writing and the fact that Mark just reminded viewers of Nick and didn't measure up ...

That was neat.Considering its been 16 years since AW those two have aged well.Maybe in Stephen's case is that he has always kept the same look with his hair so he doesn't look wildly different today.

Billboard review September 1951 Slow- motion emoting is the chief flaw of CBS' new video soap opera, Search for Tomorrow. A soap series, of course, is traditionally wordy, ai compared to the equally traditional "action- packed -drama" policy of Westerns. However, this package is not only wordy, it's also ponderous. The actors pause significantly after every word, in what seems to be an effort to extract every second's worth from each sentence. This technique might be rewarding with a Bernard Shaw opus, but the dialog on Search for Tomorrow is far from Shavian. In fact, some of it on the show caught would have benefitted from a real speedup performance, particularly on line pick -ups. Although the series concerns the Barron family (father. mother, married son and 25 -year -old daughter), the episode opened with a lengthy static closeup of a conversation between a lunch counter proprietor and a young doctor, a newcomer to town in search of a pianist for his newly opened civic recreation center. The counter man suggested the Barron girl, and it was obvious to any loyal soap fan that a romance would be brewing between the medic and the fern on future shows. All in Stew Having established the doe as a suitably tweedy hero type, pipe and all, the scripter dropped him abruptly and moved on to the Barron home, where everybody was in a stew. Unlike most radio soap operas, this show doesn't carry an opening description of past events, so it was difficult to tell the heroine front the heels at first. Mother Barron (Bess Johnsen) was in a well -bred pet over the fact that daughter (Sara Anderson) had been hanging around the aforementioned lunch counter, and the program ended on a mild note of excitement, when the latter threatened to. leave home. Acting was in the usual melo manner of daytime radio drama, although Tom Poston managed to be remarkably natural and likeable as the counter man, Mike Reilly. Philip Huston, a collar ad type, was handicapped in his medic role by the fact that the script called for him to feed his face during the whole scene. He had an air of desperate concentration, as tho he were mentally timing each bite, to he'd be able to pick up his next line. The demonstration commercials for Spie and Span cleasner and Joy, a liquid for dish washing, were both on film. The former plug featured a toothy young lady who praised her product with the same vigor that Jack Smith sings a song.

Gerald Gordon seemed determined to have primetime success.He mentions his ambitions in several interviews.The best he could muster was that killer ant movie on ABC and that flop sitcom...Wonder how he dealt with that?

That was time when NBC (Fred Silverman) were ordering shows and throwing them on the air seemingly at random. There were almost weekly schedule changes.Nothing from that time was a hit.Think Supertrain,Harris&C0, Cliffhangers,Little Women,Turnabout,etc

Those signed photos you are collecting Amy from all those actors are such a treat. I wonder if some of those performers would be interested in talking more about their soap roles and giving us some behind the scenes info?

Losing Bev Penberthy was a major mistake.Pat was an original character and she hd been in the role for years.BP was an attractive 'older' woman and Pat had only one marriage under her belt so there were plenty of story options. She also had 2 children who could have been brought back.Mike and Marianne could have hooked into the Love/McKinnon families.Mike/Nicole? Marianne/Peter etc Maybe it was a cost -cutting thing. Beverly may have been one of the highest paid cast members. The time that the Matthews were dropped( Russ/Pat/Marianne/Alice 81-82)was the very time they should have been investing in the core family. Maybe a daughter/son for Russ from the times he'd been away from BC,the return of Ricky Matthews as a new teen etc They did try with the creation of Julia...

Re Hidden Faces Variety lists Noah Keen in the cast.

Watching the opening scenes of the 2nd clip I was struck by 2 things. Patricia Hodges would have been a good Opal recast on AMC and Nancy Frangione looked like Susan Lucci.

May 1954 1. Howdy Doody NBC 5.30- 6.00 19.6 2. SFT 17.1 3. TGL 15.6 4. LOL 14.4 5. The Big Payoff 12.5 In comparison the top 5 nightime shows 1. I Love Lucy 61.4 2. Dragnet 49.7 3. Bob Hope 44.5 4. Milton Berle 38.7 5. You Bet Your Life 42.8

NOTES ON PEYTON PLACE PAUL MONASH Executive producer of the new serial Peyton Place and of the Dramatic Unit for 20th Century-Fox TV, Paul Monash holds a B.A. degree from the University of Wisconsin and an M.A. from Columbia. His writing credits include two novels and several television dramas. In 1958 he won an Emmy for The Lonely Wizard, a biography of Steinmetz. CECIL SMITH Cecil Smith has been entertainment editor and TV columnist of the Los Angeles Times since 1958. He began his career as a radio script writer, and in 1947 he joined the Times staff as a reporter and drama writer. In addition to writing several TV scripts for all three networks, Mr. Smith has acted in a number of television productions and has appeared on panels and interview programs In September, just as ABC -TV was preparing to offer its innovative series in nighttime drama, Peyton Place, executive producer Paul Monash met in Hollywood with Cecil Smith, critic for the Los Angeles Times. They discussed the nature of the experiment and considered its implications for all of TV fiction. An abridgement of their conversation is reproduced below. A transcript of the discussion was later sent to Mr. Monash, along with an invitation to add any comments he wished to make in light of the initial reaction to the series. His remarks are printed at the end of this article. Mr. Smith: We can begin with the expected, Paul, by asking you to define what it is you're creating. Is Peyton Place merely a soap opera or is it a form entirely new to TV? Mr. Monash: It is a half -hour episodic drama. Since the story does continue, and since there are no other useful direct analogies in the medium, I suppose it must be considered as having been derived from the soap opera. It tells a convoluted story, which goes on and at the same time turns back on itself in order to remind the audience of what is happening. Each episode must always end at a point of high interest, although you could not always call the program a "cliffhanger." Finally, it does have a strong appeal for women. In all these respects, it resembles daytime soap opera. Mr. Smith: Where does it differ from the soaper? Mr. Monash: Hopefully, in the broader appeal of its stories. It also differs in terms of the way we tell the story, the way we mount it, the care taken in production, the degree of humor, and the dramatic shadings. If its similarities to soap opera may be manifest, we still feel it has distinctive dramatic qualities. The pace within scenes, for example, is consistent with nighttime television. Daytime TV forces its performance to drag. Actors read their lines slowly, they sip coffee, they pace and posture. In daytime TV voices are seldom raised and speéches are never read in haste. There are great numbers of pauses and delays in the action. I confess that our temptation to stretch material is strong. We know that if we proceed at too rapid a narrative pace the audience will simply lose the thread of the story. On a two -nights -a -week schedule, we must expect the audience to retain a great deal of narrative material and character definition from program to program. In addition, we find ourselves wondering if it is not to our interest to explore scenes in greater detail, letting our cast share in this exploration -in- depth. This cuts down the narrative pace. And we do have a tendency to conserve dramatic material. Mr. Smith: What are the basic appeals of Peyton Place? I am told that the English series, Coronation Street, is popular because it trades in nostalgia. It treats a way of life that is vanishing in England; the neighborhoods, the little garden conversations -these have a broad appeal. Of course your series deals with a small town, too, but do you think it has a great appeal to most of the urban Americans who once came from small towns? Mr. Monash: No, I don't. I think there is little real desire to flee back to the small town. I think there is an aspiration, among urban groups, for the less complex life associated with small towns -we are trying to emphasize these values in Peyton Place -but I also think [50] this less complicated life is more myth than reality. The conservative appeal of the simpler life doesn't necessarily mean a return to the small town. It's just that most of us tend to assume this, and so our show reflects it. Personally, I have very little desire to live in a small town. Even Peyton Place is a synthetic town, where we are not dealing with small -town problems per se so much as with general and contemporary American attitudes and problems . Mr. Smith: As you know, Paul, you are pioneering in a field where success will bring a great deal of imitation. Plans for more continuing series are being made in several places. What experiences have you already had, especially in the matter of logistics and continuity, that might be passed on to those who will follow? Mr. Monash: To this point, none of my experiences would lead me to feel that this approach should not be extended. But the conditions and contingencies are almost appalling. The idea of a continuing situation makes Peyton Place strongly dissimilar to a show like Dr. Kildare, even though the latter also has continuing characters. In Kildare there are no "memory stories." That is, you can take show number 19 and put it on before show number six, and it won't disturb the concept. But we are dealing with a continuing drama with a core story. It's easy to write breathless publicity about each story being "complete in itself -and yet there is still a continuing story," but when you try to implement this the headaches begin. Our series demands enormous concentration on the sequence and consequences of the story. The episodes must be written forward - two must come after number one, three after two, and so on. This creates a basic condition of all continuing stories -no margin for error. I may not like an episode, but I know it must be shot next. I can't reach into a stockpile and then use the weak one at a later time, after I've had a chance to strengthen it. In physical production we cannot permit ourselves to fall behind at all, since we have no repeat pattern and are committed to 104 shows a year. It just seems that all the challenges of television are magnified in this form. And perhaps the opportunities. Mr. Smith: You must, then, consider any story in terms of the continuing nature of the core? Mr. Monash: Yes, and this leads us to adopt certain techniques which also carry inherent problems with them. A basic technique we must follow is that of withholding, rather than revealing, action. Most programs constantly fulfill the dramatic expectations of the viewer. We must constantly withhold, because once we finish a situation it is abandoned. In addition, we must choose our basic dramatic situations with great care. Each basic story will run for several weeks-even months. Once we get into a story we are committed, and that's what's terrifying. We are 13 weeks ahead in production, and if we discover that a story does not interest viewers to the degree we had hoped there is nothing much we can do about i t. Mr. Smith: How do you view the series in relationship to the book which inspired it? Grace Metalious' novel is probably among the most widely -read works of this century. It was a bitter book, a tale of the ferment of sex beneath the surface of small -town life. Mr. Monash: I've read the book. I've seen the film, several times, and I got more from the film. It carried an underlying expression of tenderness and affection that wasn't in the book. If many highly dramatic, even harsh, things happen in the course of our television treatment, we feel we have at least tried to put wings of love underneath it. The book is a harsh, unloving document, and we intended to put our stories at a different emotional level. The book, however, has given us an extremely recognizable property to which we could attach what is considered a hazardous programming concept. Mr. Smith: I've previewed several early episodes at your invitation, Paul, and it seems to me there is a great deal of sex in the series. The mill -owner is having an affair with his secretary Mr. Monash: It appears as though he is having an affair. Mr. Smith: Allison, the heroine, is having vague stirrings. Her mother is a frustrated, loveless woman who hasn't shared her bed with a man in 18 years. The young couple are in the throes of a hot and fervid affair. These are all revealed in the first 30 minutes. The basic motivations, it seems, are sexual. Mr. Monash: I think it is fairer to call it a love story, and my argument springs from the simple fact that both the book and the picture were set in the period immediately before World War II. The TV version is not. We have obviously undergone a moral revolution in the past 25 years. We are more honest about many things today than we were then. We are more willing to admit that [52] there is a link between love and sex. We tend to romanticize less, and a series that tries to deal with this matter and not make some admissions of this kind is not very honest. Obviously, though, there are things which cannot be condoned or seriously described in a medium like television. A more disturbing problem to me is that no one in the series is very happy about love. Part of the explanation lies in the nature of drama itself. There is simply more conflict in unhappiness, and this is the heart of drama. It is difficult to dramatize at great length any kind of amicable relationship. But this offers us no reason to consider Peyton Place a manual on sex. If it were, it could not succeed. We cannot be, and don't intend to be, as blunt, in visual terms, as the motion picture. We would not want to be as grimly descriptive as the novel. But the important point to be made is that this series is about love -love in contemporary and valid terms as a reflection of society. The basic theme of the show is a quest for love. Allison McKenzie is searching for love. She is afraid that love leads to sex, and wants it to be more than that. The couple who are on the verge of an affair are basically seeking, from each other, the things they have not found with their own partners. This is a common problem. We must, on occasion, deal in melodrama. We can tell melodramatic stories in the series because we can relate them in greater detail and tell them with some semblance of honesty. At this moment I am working with a story that is dangerously melodramatic. I would like to do it because I can envision a number of powerful scenes. But I must wonder whether the audience will accept it. I'm not sure it will unless I can find the supporting details and motivations that will allow me to tell it honestly. Mr. Smith: What are your personal satisfactions in this series? What is your personal vision -the important element you are trying to communicate? Do you think the series will be successful on more personal terms? Mr. Monash: Most of the assumptions we began with over a year ago have now been abandoned. I have a feeling of security about the project, however. If I don't have any final personal sense of fulfillment yet, maybe it's because I know we are just beginning to cut our way through the underbrush. Peyton Place is not the ultimate property I would like to explore. I would, in time, like to deal at length with other environments, using some of the things I am learning about continuing drama. There is the possibility of doing a contemporary War and Peace. There is the possibility of doing Dos Passos' USA. There is the possibility of doing something more, because it is obvious that in Peyton Place we are not trying to create great television literature. We are creating popular entertainment. If I were Sherwood Anderson I might touch the verities. But even if it were possible to do so, I would be circumscribed by the limitations of volume demand. We will always be limited by the fact that we cannot go to many writers at once and solicit their efforts. We must turn out scripts quickly, shoot them quickly, and keep moving along. The nature of the series-even more so here than in more conventional series -demands assembly -line operation. Yet this is a beginning. Perhaps, someday, we will go beyond this and have still further modification of form. It has been proposed, for example, that a series of this type go for a year and stop, to be supplanted with another year -long continuing drama. In this way, the new series could benefit from a full year of preparation and script stockpiling. Mr. Smith: In Spanish television there are programs similar to our soap operas which tell a story with a number of characters, which may continue for ten weeks or so and then end. Then they'll begin a completely new series with new characters all over again. Would this be a practical approach, as an alternative to the obvious misgivings you have about your own commitments and problems? Mr. Monash: I'm not certain. I think not, and for two reasons. First there are nearly insurmountable problems of casting within this approach. Next, the natural tendency of American TV to go with a winner would be hard to overcome. If one of these were enormously successful it would undoubtedly stay on the air. But I believe it's going to become necessary to devise some way of creating a continuity which offers dramatic fulfillment -an eventual beginning, middle and an end -but which escapes the kind of limitation imposed upon the situation drama with a complete story each week. If Peyton Place does not succeed, this will still come. We will see five -part, six -part and even ten -part stories that reach dramatic crisis and resolution. I was involved in an earlier experiment in making a "horizontal" motion picture of this kind, to be played in three- to five -hour TV time periods. The pitfalls lay in trying to work within a TV budget to get major [54] properties. There is no way to do this and still come out with a motion picture respectable enough for overseas release, and that was felt necessary to make the productions financially feasible. Mr. Smith: Paul, in view of your many doubts, even the success of Peyton Place seems to mean only a qualified success for you as a creative figure. While I was in England I spoke with several people at BBC and the commercial companies there about their continuing interest and faith in the anthology series. There are a number of them going at once. And they told me their major reason for keeping them on the air is talent. They would lose all their talent -writers, producers, directors -if they did not have this outlet for them. Mr. Monash: I think that is a nice thought, but I'm afraid that in the United States more practical and immediate considerations are paramount. There doesn't seem to be great anxiety in network centers over where new talent will come from. You know, it is just assumed that it will appear, somehow -in Hollywood, or perhaps in the East. I think there is no sense of creative drive in the networks. I really think they are strictly pragmatic. When good young writing talent comes into the field now it has no place to go to work. It must turn out formula drama, and therefore it becomes corrupted. Writers therefore eventually hope to become motion picture writers, or producers. It has become very difficult for a writer in television to prove himself to that point where he will be hired for a major motion picture. Television, as it is constituted now, is corrupting and therefore destroying talent. Is it so conditioning the audience to the results of this that eventually the audience will wholeheartedly accept an inferior product -which is the safest kind of product to turn out? I don't know. Maybe the primary comment to be made is that very few people who create television watch much of it. Mr. Smith: They haven't the time -the desire -or what? Mr. Monash: They haven't the desire. Mr. Smith: Is TV discouraging to you? You've been in it since 1952. Does it seem less exciting to you now than it was then? Mr. Monash: Yes, and I can't blame it entirely on television. When I first came in TV it was exciting. To be writing anything - I had not really been a writer just to sit down at a typewriter for seven hours was a challenge. And the money was pouring in. It was an exciting kind of money. It was new money. It was fresh money. I am not sure I wasn't like a child with a new toy. I don't remember when I became bored. Now it isn't a toy. And I am not a child. The game has become my business. And I am twelve years older. COMMENT BY MR. MONASH I was interviewed by Cecil Smith some hours before the first episode of Peyton Place was to be aired. I felt quite apprehensive, and that apprehension is fully reflected in the interview. Because of that, I did not stress some of the creative opportunities which would make the continuing drama attractive to members of the Academy. I do believe that we are groping toward the television novel and that Peyton Place does indicate some of the possibilities of that eventual form. When television programming does permit its suppliers (and I am using the business word) to treat serious mateajal at length and in depth, it will become rewarding to TV's creative suppliers (and now I am using the gratifying word). I do feel that -somehow, someday- American television will begin to grow. If it does not, then many of us will have to grow ourselves, have to grow away from and apart from television. For most of us, of course, this is a gnawing concern.