The Mixture as Before

It was the kind of TV program that no sponsor could possibly afford: the high-priced talent ranged from Board Chairman Robert Sarnoff (delivery somewhat stiff) to Broad Comic Milton Berle (delivery better than ever). Packed into a two-hour closed-circuit preview of the new season were all of NBC's top stars, presenting snippets from all of the network's evening programs. The audience: station personnel, admen and newsmen in 140 U.S. cities. Madison Avenue time buyers, the cold-eyed crew whom Bob Hope greeted as "the grey flannel Mafia," seemed satisfied at show's end that their share of the country's picture tubes might be worth the price.

Not that NBC was burdened with new ideas: there was the sound of western gunfire, the brassy clangor of variety shows, a hint of "adult" comedy. All the old standbys were there--Dinah Shore, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Perry Como. The newest TV face turned out to be one of the oldest in show business: Ed Wynn, 71. In the preview, at least, he was involved in an embarrassingly corny act, plugging his own forthcoming dramatic series alongside a stripper, each of whose removable scanties carried an announcement for some NBC attraction.

One of the most welcome oldtime newcomers: Fred Astaire, warming up for a song-and-dance series with a nifty new partner, Barrie Chase. And it was all guaranteed by NBC to come in a superattrac-tive package--600 hours of live color (an average of two hours a day), 100 big "specials," more emphasis on public affairs.

Only one new quiz show was announced, Brains and Brawn, in which intellectual quiz athletes team up with actual musclemen. (After the brains match memories in familiar fashion, the brawnier contestants match skills in athletic derring-do.) An announcer's throbbing voice pledged continued loyalty to Twenty-One. But the irrepressible comics had a field day kidding the quizzes. "When the subject of my new show came up," cracked Bob Hope, "all General Sarnoff said was, 'Never mind if it's funny. Is it honest?' "

It remained for Milton Berle, Mr. TV himself, coming back to a regular show after three years, to warn the network that when it does get around to promoting new ideas, they had better be good. "I'll be on every Wednesday night, except when we're pre-empted by a spectacular," he quipped. "You know what a spectacular is. That's a word invented by a network vice president meaning 'Let's make the show longer and more expensive, and maybe they won't notice how lousy it is.' " To judge from last week's preview, NBC's new season will not be a spectacular.

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