For the past decade, my television viewing had alternated almost exclusively between Fox News and Turner Classic Movies, with the occasional PBS British mystery. In the two months since Fox fired Tucker Carlson, it has been only TCM. The vintage film channel is a unique window on the richness of 20th century America through its defining art form — cinema. TCM revolutionized the presentation of some of the finest pictures ever made by showing them commercial-free in their entirety and their original form, post 1953 in spectacular cinemascope.
Now the marvelous vintage film network is in mortal danger, once again due to the stupidity and ineptitude of corporate executives, in this case those at the parent company, Warner Bros.
Directors Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and Paul Thomas Anderson issued a joint statement, which would make any studio head think twice about a rash course of action.
Last week, threatened budget cuts by Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav prompted the departure of numerous high-level TCM officials, including the vice-presidents of programming (Charles Tabesh), production (Anne Wilson), marketing (Dexter Fedor), and TCM Enterprises (Genevieve McGillicuddy), with more heads on the block. The reason for the bloodbath seems obvious. While TCM has been perennially profitable thanks to the love of film shared by both its personnel and devout fan base, Warner Brothers studio appears to be a bottomless money drain.
A logical link can be made between Warner’s latest box office disaster The Flash — budget $200 million, opening weekend gross $55 million — and the TCM exodus. The implosion of The Flash is not just a direct financial blow, it jeopardizes an entire slate of DC Comics projects, like the new adventures of Superman, Wonder Woman, and other superhero franchises. Because the people in charge of them have no idea of what they’re doing, and clearly far less talent than the auteurs whose work TCM showcases. Consequently, gutting the channel would save Warner honchos a little money and a lot of embarrassment.
Ironically, last April, TCM celebrated the studio’s 100th anniversary with a 24/7 marathon of its unforgettable pictures, such as The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Maltese Falcon, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The Searchers, Rio Bravo, The Exorcist, and — salt on Warner’s The Flash wound — the first superhero picture, the delightful Superman. Rewatching all of these for the umpteenth time, I realized that nothing the studio has done this century comes remotely close to any one of them. Even the lesser titles shown on TCM display a level of storytelling and execution far beyond today’s filmmakers. This could be partly explained by the decline in American culture, which the old movies expose to our detriment.
For instance, one of the more obscure movies I caught was 1942’s Wings for the Eagle, starring secondary yet solid Warner leads Ann Sheridan, Dennis Morgan, and Jack Carson. Set in a warplane factory in 1941, it was like looking through a telescope at another planet — where men gratefully bustle on the job to do it right, some studying at night to find a more rewarding career, even in the military. In one scene, a veteran supervisor reprimands Morgan for passing the wrong-sized machine piece. “Look, kid, I know you’re new here, but in this place we don’t guess,” he says. “This butch has held up work on an engine, and that engine is holding up a ship, and that ship is holding up the whole line, you understand?”
The inspiring scene depicting the men and attitude that helped win World War II would melt down any snowflake today. And you won’t find it anywhere else than on TCM. Which is what makes the channel so invaluable to viewers, yet so alien and erasable to suits like David Zaslav, as he ponders how to reboot Wonder Woman minus Gal Gadot.
But there was one group Zaslav didn’t reckon with when slashing TCM — powerful film artists, several of them living legends whose work is often featured on the network, that publicly lambasted his intention. Directors Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and Paul Thomas Anderson issued a joint statement, which would make any studio head think twice about a rash course of action.
“Turner Classic Movies has always been more than just a channel,” read the statement. “It is truly a precious resource of cinema, open 24 hours a day, seven days a week.” Actor Ryan Reynolds was a bit more direct. “Turner Classic Movies has been a fixture in my life for as long as I can remember,” he tweeted. “It’s a holy corner of film history — and a living, breathing library for an entire art form. Please don’t f__k with @tcm.”
Under such heavyweight pressure, Zaslav convened a phone call with the directors, who subsequently let him off easy. In another joint statement, they said, “We have each spent time talking to David, separately and together, and it’s clear that TCM and classic cinema are very important to him.” Then followed a clear line of warning. “Our primary aim is to ensure that TCM’s programming is untouched and protected.” I may be in a different camp politically from Spielberg and Scorsese, but there is no question they have enriched the screen art, and I’m proud to stand behind them on preserving it on TCM.
As for Zaslav and his fellow studio execs, I hope they’ve learned their lesson. That they’re caretakers of a treasure which the world will never see the likes of again. And long after their cheap imitations of it — be they The Flash 3 or Batman 20 — are lost and forgotten, audiences will still sigh at Humphrey Bogart’s last line in The Maltese Falcon, “The stuff that dreams are made of.” Which could well describe the films on TCM.
Update: According to Deadline, David Zaslav on Friday placed Warner Bros Film Group Co-Chairpersons/CEOs Michael De Luca and Pamela Abdy in charge of TCM. It remains to be seen what good if any this will do. But in my view, Zaslav should give the reins to someone with no other responsibility than TCM’s success.
