IT’S KIND OF A FUNNY STORY
Comedy Central’s unlikely ascent to TV political-satire powerhouse
IN 1993, Art Bell, marketing head for the fledgling Comedy Central network, commissioned an ad campaign to run on New York City buses for a new show called “Politically Incorrect” starring comedian Bill Maher. In his previous role as co-head of programming, Bell greenlit the show, giving Maher his big break.
Soon after the campaign debuted, Bell took a call from a clearly irate Maher, who asked him, “What the f--k were you thinking with those bus ads?”
The ads featured “politically incorrect” statements on the sides of buses, with jabs at the passengers, such as: “Does this guy’s head look pointy to you?”
“If you think this is good advertising, then you obviously don’t know what the f--k you’re doing,” Maher told Bell. “I’ve made some calls, and I’m trying to get you fired.”
Bell shares this and numerous other anecdotes in his new memoir, “Constant Comedy: How I Started Comedy Central and Lost My Sense of Humor” (Ulysses Press).
Bell started thinking about an all-comedy network consisting of short, funny clips from movies and TV shows while pursuing an MBA at Wharton. As he drafted economic models for HBO in 1987, his dream became reality when he successfully pitched the idea to network CEO Michael Fuchs.
Bell named it The Comedy Channel, and HBO lawyers negotiated with entertainment unions for the rights to air clips.
FUCHS announced the channel on May 17, 1989. But two days later, Bell’s excitement was quashed when MTV announced its own all-comedy channel, which would feature old sitcoms, called the Ha! TV Comedy Network.
Then, eight weeks before The Comedy Channel’s launch, the Directors Guild rescinded its permission to use clips. An organization board member balked, and it was “rumored to be Woody Allen.”
Bell’s entire strategy collapsed, as his network could now only use clips that aired on HBO. Over the next two months, he bought short film libraries and added original programming.
The Comedy Channel launched on Nov. 15, 1989. Critics hated the repetitive content, with New York magazine calling it “the biggest cable flop in years.”
While trying to keep the channel afloat, Bell also discovered the challenge of dealing with talent.
The network’s clip show, “Short Attention Span Theater,” was hosted by comedians Patty Rosborough and future “Daily Show” host Jon Stewart.
Channel executives quickly decided that only one host was necessary.
“We immediately recognized that Jon Stewart was a standout performer and destined for bigger things,” Bell writes. “He and Patty were cute together . . . but Jon was the show.”
But when Rosborough was fired, Stewart quit in solidarity. It was left to Bell to talk Stewart down.
“You can’t do this!” Stewart yelled. “You can’t just fire Patty without even talking to me about it. We’re partners, we’ve been working together for three months. If Patty goes, I go.”
He ultimately agreed to stay, “to be fair to you, and my commitment to SAST.”
Meanwhile, Ha! launched on April Fools’ Day 1990, also to poor reviews.
Many called for the networks to merge, and it was little surprise when a deal was struck that December.
COMEDY Central debuted on April Fools’ Day 1991. In early 1992, it hired “SNL” writer and future US Sen. Al Franken to mock the State of the Union speech as it happened for a heavily promoted special called “The State of the Union: Undressed.”
That show became the first step toward Comedy Central developing a unique identity.
The night of the speech, Bell was at the studio watching Franken and producer Billy Kimball prepare. By 7 p.m., Kimball said to Franken, “Al, you need to get to makeup. We go live in two hours.”
Franken shot Kimball a glance.
“Did you just say, ‘We go live?’” Franken asked. “I thought we were taping it. No way I’m doing this live.”
“He started walking toward the studio door and said to nobody in particular, ‘I’m calling my manager,’ ” Bell writes.
Bell thought Franken was kidding, but he wasn’t, and Bell watched in “confused horror” as he left.
Laurie Zaks, the network’s VP of talent, hurried after Franken and got him to return minutes later. She never revealed how.
And with that, Comedy Central had its first hit.
“As I watched, I felt we were entering unclaimed comedy territory and planting our flag,” Bell writes.
“It was our first foray into using news and politics as a platform for comedy.
“That night was a turning point: We discovered what we were good at.”
Comedy Central covered political conventions and returned to the State of the Union. But the live-broadcast format would also cause more problems.
The 1996 edition found Dennis Miller handling the comedy.
The broadcast went smoothly until an hour in, when, Bell writes, Miller interrupted his commentary to tell the live TV audience, “I have to take a leak real bad.”
Once again, Zaks watched, then followed, as a host bolted out of the studio — but this time, it was live on the air.
“Oh, man, where’s the bathroom?” Miller said on live TV, still wearing his headset. “There’s gotta be a men’s room around here somewhere. Or a woman’s room. Hold on. This’ll have to do.”
This show became the first step toward Comedy Central developing a unique identity.
Miller aced the rest of the broadcast, but when it ended, he “ripped off his headset, slammed it onto the desk, and stormed out of the camera frame.”
“F--k!” he screamed. “Oh, God, what have I done?”
He ran into the men’s room, and Bell followed to talk him down.
“Dennis was sitting on the floor between the sinks and the stalls, his back against the wall, his head down, and his hands over his face,” Bell writes.
“What have I done? I just killed my career,” he said.
“You were great out there,” Bell said.
“Art, I took a leak into a garbage can. On TV. In front of what, 2, 3 million people?”
“Audio only,” Bell replied, before finally convincing him the damage wasn’t that dire.
They left, and Zaks gave Miller a comforting hug just as a woman who worked for her ran up and said, “Guess what: The switchboard’s lighting up like a Christmas tree — tons of people are calling about Dennis peeing!”
DESPITE the bathroom run, the episode generated solid viewership, the reviews were positive and Miller lived to pee another day.
But if Bell survived the debacle, outlasting entertainment-industry politics was another matter.
Doug Herzog, an MTV executive who became president of Comedy Central in 1995, brought his own staff with him. Bell was eventually fired.
He spent several years consulting before becoming president of Court TV and helping shape that network’s future.
Not only was Bell’s concept for a 24-hour comedy channel a great success, he also got some revenge on Maher.
While Maher was trying to have Bell fired, the bus ad’s creator, Allen Kay, informed Bell that the campaign was nominated for an Effie, the award for the most effective advertising in the industry.
That year’s Effie’s were hosted by Bill Maher.
As Maher read the nominees, a picture of each campaign appeared on screen behind him. When he read the name of his own show, he turned, saw the bus cam
I felt we were entering unclaimed comedy territory and planting our flag.
— Comedy Central architect Art Bell in his new memoir (above), on an influential 1992 State of the Union spoof
paign, and said to the crowd, “Now that’s advertising!”
Then he read the winner: Korey Kay and Partners for ‘Politically Incorrect.’ ”
At the end of the night, Kay and Bell accepted congratulations as Maher walked by.
“From the corner of my eye, I saw Bill walking through the crowd toward our table,” Bell writes. “I started to stand up. When he reached our table, Bill looked right at me, nodded slightly, and continued walking without saying a word.”
Cool your jets, James Bond, this is a job for a flying paramedic.
In a scene straight out of 1965’s “Thunderball,” inventor Richard Browning tested a jet suit (right) that will allow Great North Air Ambulance Service medics to quickly respond to emergencies in the rugged Lake District of England, Reuters reported.
“Who knows what the future holds,but this is a start we are very proud of,” said Browning, founder of the UK’s Gravity Industries who reached a 10-year-old girl (above) in a simulated fall in just 90 seconds.
It would have taken 25 minutes for first responders to cover the treacherous path on foot, according to the company.
The suit — which holds two mini-engines on each arm and one on the back — can fly at 32 mph to a maximum altitude of 12,000 feet, the BBC reported.
“The biggest advantage is its speed,” said Andy Mawson, a helicopter paramedic and director of operations at GNAAS who came up with the idea.
“If the idea takes off, the flying paramedic will be armed with a medical kit, with strong pain relief for walkers who may have suffered fractures and a defibrillator for those who may have suffered a heart attack,” he said.
“What might have taken up to an hour to reach the patient may only take a few minutes, and that could mean the difference between life and death.
“What we didn’t know for sure is how this would work in practice. Well, we’ve seen it now and it is, quite honestly, awesome.”
According to the Lake District Search and Mountain Rescue Association, there were 584 incidents in the area requiring emergency responses last year.