Monday, Sep. 23, 1996

MIDAS TOUCH

By Richard Zoglin

Marcy Carsey and Tom Werner aren't the kind of people who say, "I told you so." But if anyone in TV has a right to say it, they do. The former ABC programming executives, who teamed up to form their own production company in 1981, brought one of their early projects, a family sitcom starring a well-worn comedian, to their old network--only to have it rejected. NBC later put The Cosby Show on the air, and it became the most popular series of the 1980s. The producers' next breakthrough hit, Roseanne, landed on ABC only after NBC turned it down. And last season they tried to interest ABC in a wacky sitcom about an alien family on Earth. When the network dithered over scheduling it, the duo took 3rd Rock from the Sun to NBC--where it became the season's only unqualified hit.

Now Carsey and Werner, arguably the most powerful producers in television, are enjoying the last laugh: the networks seem almost afraid to say no to them. Carsey-Werner, their company, produced three pilots last spring, and amazingly--in a business where a .300 batting average makes you a candidate for MVP--all three were picked up for the fall schedule: Cosby by CBS, Men Behaving Badly by NBC and Townies by ABC.

That gives Carsey-Werner a total of seven shows on the air this fall (Roseanne, Grace Under Fire, Cybill and 3rd Rock are its incumbents), more than any other independent production company--though there aren't many independent companies left for comparison. As media mergers proliferate and most small producers have sought shelter under the umbrella of a studio, Carsey and Werner are determined to keep going it alone. In doing so, they have proved that a couple of smart programmers with good instincts and enough confidence to fight for what they believe in can still be a power in prime time.

Carsey, 51, and Werner, 46, are the most unassuming moguls in Hollywood. They share an office on the second floor of their unpretentious bungalow on the former MTM lot in Studio City and rarely go out for fancy lunches, preferring to grab a plate in the commissary line downstairs. Intensely private, both have families (Carsey is married to a former comedy writer and has two children; Werner and his businesswoman wife have three) that they keep out of the limelight. Carsey drives a modest Mustang convertible; Werner tools around in a Toyota Landcruiser. Carsey doesn't even have an answering machine on her home phone. They are so low-profile that even Daily Variety not long ago referred to them, mistakenly, as husband and wife.

Within the industry, however, their talents are hardly a mystery. Last spring Disney-ABC chief Michael Eisner tried to convince Carsey and Werner to take over the network's struggling entertainment division. They were tempted but said no, partly because it would have meant giving up their company and abandoning their new shows in the midst of development. The company, worth an estimated $1 billion, is growing fast, with a newly created distribution arm (two years ago, Carsey-Werner reacquired the domestic syndication rights for their biggest shows) and a fledgling movie division. Still, they don't rule out the idea of someday leaving it all to run a network. "We have always had an interest in the programming side of television," says Werner. "It would be difficult to give up what we have here, but nothing's impossible."

For now, they have plenty on their plate. Cosby's new show--based on the British series One Foot in the Grave, about a middle-aged man who has been laid off from his job--has been the most troublesome. Last spring a new executive producer was brought in to rework the show by making the main character warmer, less embittered and more assertive...that is, more like Bill Cosby. In addition, the actress playing Cosby's wife, Telma Hopkins, was replaced by a flash from the past--Phylicia Rashad, who played Cosby's wife on his last sitcom. "We just felt the chemistry between Bill and Telma Hopkins was not as it ought to have been," says Werner, demonstrating the team's most salient public trait: unfailing circumspection.

One key to Carsey and Werner's success is their selectivity. Unlike other TV studios, which put lots of shows into the hopper and see what works, Carsey and Werner pick only a few and nurture them carefully. "If they don't love it, they don't do it," says NBC Entertainment president Warren Littlefield. They talked with Martin Short for months about doing a series, but gave up after they couldn't find the right vehicle; he later did a sitcom/sketch show for other producers that flopped on NBC. And they are patient. Carsey and Werner waited six months for John Goodman to become available before they went ahead with Roseanne--even though ABC was clamoring for the series. Any other company would have gone with a second choice. "We don't do a lot of wasted development," says Carsey. "By the time we shoot a pilot, we really think the thing ought to be on the air. And it usually is."

Carsey is regarded as the more astute judge of material, particularly adept at shaping a series during its early stages. Werner attends more closely to post-production and network relations. But both read every script and offer frequent suggestions. "They're great mechanics, but mechanics with heart," says Terry Turner, co-creator of 3rd Rock from the Sun. "Tom can put his finger almost on the page and say, 'By this point in the script, I'm not engaged.' Marcy is more from the gut; she has an innate sense of who we care about in the show."

For a long time their forte seemed to be family sitcoms with a grounding in working-class reality--the struggling Conner clan of Roseanne, the single-mom woes of Grace Under Fire. Yet they refuse to be pigeonholed. "We're contrarians," says Carsey. "We look for what's not on the air and what ought to be." That has led to some notable misfires, among them You Bet Your Life, in which Cosby reprised the old Groucho Marx game show, and Chicken Soup, an ill-fated sitcom starring Jackie Mason. But last season, when everyone was trying to come up with clones of Friends, Carsey and Werner decided what TV lacked was a broad, fish-out-of-water sitcom: hence, 3rd Rock. Now they're trying to develop an hourlong show that is "lighter and less earnest" than what's on the air, along the lines of I Spy or The Avengers.

Carsey and Werner have also become experts in a more conventional TV game: appeasing stars with big egos. Both Roseanne and Brett Butler, the star of Grace Under Fire, have driven out a succession of writers and producers with whom they've clashed over scripts. Cybill executive producer Jay Daniel has just been ousted after a falling out with star Cybill Shepherd--she had been trying to assert more control over her series, reportedly even fighting for more close-ups as shows are being edited.

Some criticize the team for invariably caving in to the stars in these disputes. One producer claims that Carsey-Werner is particularly inhospitable to writers, who are seen as expendable. The duo reply that they're just doing what is best for the show. Such stars "have a lot on the line," adds Carsey. "And any kind of nervousness, insecurity on their part is totally natural and very healthy." The results of their empathetic approach are hard to argue with. Roseanne, though limping, is still a hit show after eight volatile seasons. And Butler expresses undying loyalty: "They helped me fight for my voice," she says. "I would not want to work for anyone else in town."