Know Your Demo

Television, much as I love it, is not so much an art form that exists outside of capitalism. Or, at least, mainstream television doesn’t. There’s always the trade-off between making something awesome and making something that a large enough group of people will want to see; some shows are able to walk that line, others fail miserably. (Referring both to awesome shows that fail, and terrible shows that somehow last season after season.)

Because television is a business, and it’s all about the money. Where does the money come from? Commercials. Sure, some profit can now come from DVD sets and tie-in merchandise, and there have been a few success stories of canceled shows being somewhat resurrected based on these sales (Firefly, Futurama, and Family Guy spring to mind. I guess it also helps if your show starts with an ‘F’). But the majority of the bread-and-butter of shows is advertisements (and syndication, which requires having enough of an audience to get to the syndication selling point). Basically, what they (networks, generally) want is eyeballs. But not necessarily your eyeballs.

There are two numbers generally mentioned in quick ratings overviews: the total number of viewers, and the demo. That’s right, the demo. There’s one main demographic that networks focus on, and that’s people aged 18-49. Shows that can get those people to watch are prime real estate for advertisements, as they are considered the most likely to a) have disposable income and b) dispose of it. Those are the eyeballs everyone cares about.

There are a few other things that matter. Some shows have, with middling-to-decent ratings, been helped by the fact that they are popular with the “earning > $100,000” demo (Friday Night Lights… another ‘F’). Males 18-32 are believed to settle into their brand preferences during that time period of their lives, so that subset is also weighted heavily. And some networks are just looking for a different audience; the CW (and before it, the WB) looks for the niche of girls aged 11-17.

Some people claim the current ratings system is outdated, and they’re probably right. Especially with DVRs, watching online, and illegal downloads. But currently, it’s still what the networks are looking at when they’re deciding which shows to keep and which to cancel. It’s the nature of the business, and it doesn’t look like it’ll be changing anytime soon.

(This, of course, doesn’t refer as much to cable channels, which try to find more niche audiences, and premium cable, which makes its money off of subscriptions.)

The Protagonist

Few shows are true ensemble shows; most are centered around one or two characters, with several more peripheral ones. Sometimes this goes to the extreme of not having all the characters in the credits appear in every episode (generally for budgetary reasons). Most of the time, though, it leads to a split between main characters and supporting characters. Main characters get the majority of screentime and storylines. Supporting characters do exactly what it says on the tin—they support the main storylines. They’ll get a B or C story in a lot of episodes, and occasionally (maybe once a season), they are given a focus episode. Generally it will lead to insight into their character background, something that is sorely lacking from most supporting characters.

Shows with single (or dual) protagonists have been around since television began. But there was always one requirement for a show’s protagonists—they had to be likable. Protagonists were the centerpiece of the show, and they therefore tended to be upstanding citizens—like Andy Griffith, or Marcus Welby. Ratings are and have been the name of the game in television, and networks were worried that viewers wouldn’t watch people they felt they couldn’t root for.

But audience began clamoring for more “realistic” protagonists; ones that aren’t perfect and aren’t entirely likable. Cable started the trend, and the F/X network is practically built around the concept: The Shield’s Vic Mackey, Rescue Me’s Tommy Gavin. It took some time, but networks got into it, too. House is probably the biggest network example of an unlikable protagonist currently on the air. Recently, ABC introduced Dr. Megan Scott on Body of Proof. The network protagonist is allowed to be unlikable as long as they follow a few simple rules:

1) Have the other characters point it out: A character is unlikable because other people say they are. It tends to be your first clue. It helps if they overreact before we see that the character is unlikable.

2) Be abrasive, not actively evil: Okay, they can say unlikable things, but generally, they act like a good guy. Maybe they’ll complain about it, but they’ll mostly do the right thing. Or, at the very least, they'll:

3) Work toward the right end: Even if they cut corners or act wrongly, it’s because they’re trying to achieve the right result, whether that’s catching the bad guy, saving the patient, or protecting the people they care about. They may be rebels, but they're rebels with a good cause.

4) Care about something (or someone): Someone matters to them. There’s something that shows their vulnerable side (preferably, this will happen in the pilot).

5) Be right, pretty much all the time: Their correctness gives them more leeway to be abrasive. After all, they’re the best, and they’re always right. If you doubt them, you are clearly inferior and just plain wrong, and you deserve any and all of their ire.

Simple rules, but key in keeping from going from "on-air" to "canceled" in one fell swoop. Because while the character may be a rebel, that's probably not going to be an option for the showrunner.