The Imaginary Interviews
An Interview With A Fox Programming Executive
by Prue
John Doe,[1] a high-ranking executing in the Fox Broadcasting Company, has been responsible for many of the network’s programming decisions in recent years. He recently joined Prue for a round of drinks at a TGI Friday’s outside of Pasadena to discuss why he is poison to the concept of good television.
Prue: So Mr. Doe, if that is your real name, you have had quite a career. Can you tell us what brought you to the world of network television?
John Doe: Well, I came to the business a little later than most. Like most of the people in my department, I went to law school with the dream of becoming a defense attorney for rapists, pedophiles, and mob bosses. Then I realized that I didn’t want to be part of a profession with such strict ethical standards. I bounced around for while—the usual stuff. You know, soliciting 18 year-olds for amateur porn sites and collecting aluminum cans for the recycling redemption. But the intellectual rigor needed to maintain that pace was starting to burn me out. Finally, I found my niche in Fox’s programming department, and it has been smooth sailing ever since.
Prue: Do you have a particular philosophy that you use to guide your business decisions?
John Doe: Sure. I always like to say that anything that worked on another network will work even better on Fox once you cast a hot chick in it. Also, it ain’t reality unless it has a contrived and highly-edited happy ending.
Prue: What would you say to those who complain that The Simpsons has gone downhill?
John Doe: Hey! The research clearly shows that people are looking for something different from The Simpsons, and we’re ready to oblige. Enough with the “normal American family” thing—people really want them to travel internationally, end up in more and more outrageous situations, and attempt to be hip and relevant by cramming in as many pop culture references as possible. There’s a strong feeling out there that the show might have been funny before, but that it would be even funnier if it was more sanctimonious and preachy. And we’ve got some exciting stuff this season—Homer’s going to behave as if he’s functionally retarded and Marge is going to sigh a lot. It’s great stuff.
Prue: Is it true that The Family Guy is written by manatees?
John Doe: I wish. Do you have any idea what those guys cost? During the writer’s strike they were demanding a dental plan and long term care insurance. As if. We switched to sea cucumbers a long time ago—the process is a bit slower, but I don’t think the writing quality has suffered at all.
Prue: You were the man behind the cancellation of two of Fox’s most creative and groundbreaking shows—the Joss Whedon cult-favorite Firefly and the acclaimed comedy hit Arrested Development. What went into the decision to cancel them?
John Doe (laughing): Well, I think it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? Look, you don’t climb to the top of the ladder by investing in high-risk, creative, character-based shows. Everyone knows that. You do it by mass-producing low-rent reality shows, creating new platforms for T&A, and driving the few long-term shows you have into the ground. Arrested Development? People don’t want clever, cutting edge, or thoughtfully written humor. They want to see a woman with huge breasts dating a midget. Firefly? There’s no way the public could possibly understand a show that mixes sci-fi with western genres—that’s why we aired the episodes out of order and moved the time slot around. We were just saving people the trouble of trying to understand what was going on. It’s not my job to promote interesting, original programming. It’s my job to never be wrong.
Prue: But you were wrong about Firefly and Arrested Development.
John Doe: No I wasn’t. They were both cancelled.
Prue: But you’re the one who cancelled them
John Doe: Exactly.
Prue (gritting teeth): What do you see as your television legacy?
John Doe: Well, I hope that, looking back on it all, I’ll be able to say that wherever the network standards were kind of low, I managed to take them a little lower. “That John,” people will say, “I bet he’s smarter than even a sixth grader.”
[1] Note for the slow and easily confused: this interview is completely imaginary. As far as we know, this person doesn’t even exist, and if he does, he’s probably a charming person who would love to pay us to write a pilot.