Site Presented By
Tuesday, Nov 10, 2009
After this year's ratings slide and the departure of creator Aaron Sorkin, NBC's long-running White House drama is headed for major changes. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
May 14, 2003 | What happens when a master chef leaves his four-star restaurant to highly trained associates who, although just as experienced, may not share his unique talents in the kitchen?
That question is at the heart of "The West Wing's" future. On May 1, creator Aaron Sorkin announced that he and director Tommy Schlamme are leaving the show after an unexpectedly tumultuous season. Fans can't help wondering if their favorite Wednesday night fare will taste just as good next fall, with a new cook whipping up the wonkish banter and moral one-upmanship that regulars have come to know and love.
While President Jed Bartlet and his ethically irreproachable minions are raked over the coals with clocklike regularity, the staff and crew of "The West Wing" can relate these days, having dangled closer to the fire than your average ballpark frank. (This year's final episode is Wednesday, May 14 at 9 p.m., on NBC.) First, there was the departure of Rob Lowe after salary disputes. Then, the show came up against "The Bachelor" and lost a lot of its younger viewers to the dating show's fluffier, far less strenuous fare. Add to that tense renewal negotiations with NBC, Martin Sheen's controversial antiwar comments and Sorkin's missed script deadlines -- which reportedly cost Warner Bros. millions of dollars -- and the flames of Hollywood hell were licking at "The West Wing" like never before. But it was still a shock to those involved with the show when Sorkin announced his departure, particularly since he had just begun to incorporate some racier, more suspenseful story lines, in accordance with the network's wishes.
Of course, Sorkin has a long history of refusing to play nice. In addition to the trouble caused by his arrest for possession of cocaine and hallucinogenic mushrooms in 2001, his annoyance with NBC hasn't exactly been a secret. In a 2002 interview with the New Yorker, Sorkin expressed dismay over NBC's special "The Bush White House: Inside the Real West Wing" -- hosted by Tom Brokaw -- which he called a "valentine to Bush." As an industry executive told the Washington Post, "He's always been a gigantic pain."
But what does it mean to be a gigantic pain in the mixed-up world of television, where an exceptionally talented writer, widely acknowledged as a master of his craft, must answer to network executives focused on the bottom line? Ask any TV writer about the kinds of notes and insights they receive from their network, and they'll tell you five stories about the morons in charge, then top it all off with the "I'm paid to do a job, just like anyone else" philosophy that keeps their groundsman in rubber boots. Being "difficult," in this world, can be translated roughly as "having a pulse."
Before I add my voice to the din that's discussing where "The West Wing" may have gone astray, let's first take half a second to acknowledge the obvious: This is one of the best dramas on television, with writing so intelligent and dialogue so strong it laid the groundwork for the current generation of great TV dramas. Furthermore, while most TV writers are willing to grapple with politics or science as little as is necessary to make it through the next predictable courtroom or autopsy scene, Sorkin has taken on incredibly difficult subject matter with enthusiasm, presenting the bizarre twists and turns of policymaking with humor and no small amount of suspense. Of course now we take for granted that watching a bunch of administrative staff members could be riveting, unpredictable and even touching, but before "The West Wing," making a fictional TV version of the White House office warren look romantic seemed almost unthinkable. Sorkin has a unique style, voice and vision; on almost every show, there's an innovative plot device or a revelatory moment that maximizes the drama of an otherwise dry subject.
Despite its clear place at the top of the heap, though, "The West Wing" has had some pretty obvious flaws for a couple of seasons now, and it's not surprising that "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelorette" could eat into its ratings. Four seasons in, are we any more familiar with C.J. (Allison Janney) or Leo (John Spencer) or Josh (Bradley Whitford) than we were after the first season? Plots focusing on the main characters' personal lives would be easy enough to weave into the mix, yet Josh and Donna (Janel Moloney) continue to flirt openly and do nothing, Toby (Richard Schiff) is so private he's downright boring, and Sam Seaborn (Rob Lowe), mysteriously likable and ripe for the romantic picking, was ignored to the point of blatant negligence. And why? So C.J. and Josh could stride down the hall for the umpteenth time, trading the same rapid-fire quips that feel more outdated than a battery-operated monkey singing the macarena?
