by John Ortved
But the ability to run the show like a well-oiled machine may have had negative consequences as well. One writer attributed the show’s decline to the division of the now massive writing staff into two or more rooms. Often, one room doesn’t know or care what the other is doing, which leads to a lack of cohesion and can affect story lines, as well as the more touching, subtle, soft, or tender aspects of the show. Jokes are pumped as if they’re on an assembly line. Scripts are assembled, tied together by executive producers with solitary visions, which can sometimes mean the stories become chaotic and disjointed.
TIM LONG, writer/producer, The Simpsons (1998- ): I didn’t really get a strong sense of the content of the show changing—you have to understand that Mike Scully was working for Al. Whenever anybody stops being a showrunner, he continues to work for the show and for the next showrunner. It’s as if Clinton gave way to George W. Bush but continued on as George W. Bush’s second in command. The show is this rolling stone that never loses any of its moss. It just keeps growing, and people stay in one capacity or another.
DONICK CARY: It seems like it’s gotten a little simpler. It goes a little more topical. And it’s a little easy. But, at the same time, they’re in Season 18, so what the hell?
Not everyone has been so sanguine about Jean’s captaining of the show’s prolonged downturn. In 2004, the notoriously vocal Harry Shearer told United Press that he believed the show had run its course. (It wasn’t a coincidence that 2004 was the year Shearer and the cast went on strike for more money. That being said, Shearer made these comments in August, many months after the dispute had been resolved.) “It makes me sad,” Shearer told the news service. Jean was touchy about Shearer’s remarks and seemed more than a little hurt. “I think this past season was great, and I’m just so shocked that he would say that,” he told the New York Post. “I ran Season 4 and he wasn’t happy then.” Jean accused Shearer of grumbling because of his characters’ lack of airtime, and shot back, “I don’t know why I have to defend the quality of the show to Harry Shearer … He’s a guy who’s been a malcontent, in my view,” Jean told UPI. “For someone earning millions off the show this year … I just think it’s unfathomable for him to take a shot at us.”
Former writers complain that under Jean, the show is “on autopilot,” “too sentimental,” and that the shows are “just being cranked out.” One of Jean’s own producers complained that Jean is “ruining the show.” Off the record, others acknowledge that the show has entered a steady decline under Jean and is no longer really funny. While no one would argue with Jean’s experience, commitment, and intelligence (he now has a piece of the show), it’s clear that he does not inspire the same kind of loyalty and admiration previous showrunners enjoyed. While it could amount to little more than office politics, there is real dissatisfaction with the head writer for the show, which could benefit from a change in leadership. Matt Selman and Tim Long were put forward as people who, at this point, could run the show better than Jean.
What has defined the Al Jean era is the show’s definitive move into the mainstream of American TV and culture. By now The Simpsons is the most successful show in the history of television—it’s a long way from the young, mouthy, experimental series on the upstart network. With the show’s popularity such a shift was inevitable, and for many reasons it’s unfair to compare today’s episodes with those from the show’s heyday. But it’s undeniable that the bite in the satire and social commentary is no longer there.
MATT GROENING (to Terry Gross on NPR’s Fresh Air): You know, at the beginning, virtually anything we did would get somebody upset. And now it seems like the people who are eager to be offended—and this country is full of people who are eager to be offended—they’ve given up on our show. So if you’re bothered by The Simpsons, by now you know to tune out.
DOUGLAS RUSHKOFF, media critic: What you’d have to do [to keep The Simpsons relevant] is constantly leverage your financial excess to ratchet up the intensity of your cultural critique. What happened with The Simpsons is the more ubiquitous it got, the more regular little kids were watching it, and the more responsible, I think, the writers felt for these little minds. Bart went from being a true prince of irreverence, a true dangerous Gen X slacker catalyst, into a vulnerable little boomer.
The toothlessness of the Jean era is best exemplified with the show’s four hundredth episode, a parody of the hit Fox series 24, with a guest appearance by Kiefer Sutherland (as agent Jack Bauer). They created a Simpsons version of the hit program, in which Principal Skinner ran his own CTU (Counter-Truancy Unit), staffed by Lisa and other dorks, and charged with stopping several bullies from setting off a stink bomb. Despite some skilled animation, which cleverly aped 24’s filming and editing style (and won The Simpsons an Annie Award), the episode is little more than a marketing video for both series.
This campy, humorless tribute to 24 was the kind of thing The Simpsons would have made fun of in the old days. To make sure they included Sutherland and his character, midway through the episode Jack Bauer picks up a misdirected call from Bart Simpson. “Who is this?” asks Bart. “I’m Jack Bauer. Who the hell are you?” he replies. Get it? That’s Bart’s catchphrase; the episode was so lame that they could not even find a clever way to mock their involvement—they just referred back to their own show. It was not just a crossover episode, like The Simpsons had done with the X-Files and The Critic, accompanied by some sense of complicity (when Bart met Jay Sherman, he said, “I think all kids should watch your show,” and then turned away, saying, “I suddenly feel so dirty”). Instead, this was a full-on hand job to Fox and its most popular drama. It should be added that 24, aside from being chock-full of McBaintype violence and melodrama, owes its success to the post-9/11 climate of terrorist fear-baiting promulgated by network and cable news (especially Fox), and the Bush administration. 24 unapologetically endorses torture and, less overtly, the Bush administration’s erosion of civil rights that accompanied its war on terror. This was precisely the kind of show The Simpsons would have taken to task back in the day, with a smart send-up or a clever gibe. Instead, the Al Jean Simpsons devoted an entire episode to its further promotion.
While episodes like this indicate apathy in The Simpsons’ satire, another symptom of the Jean years is the increasingly explicit social and political commentary. We are now clubbed over the head with entire episodes devoted to a single contemporary subject, like electoral politics (“See Homer Run”/2005),m gay marriage (“There’s Something About Marrying”/2005), and FCC censorship (“You Kent Always Say What You Want”/2008).
Previously, politics had been mocked with the consistently corrupt and lascivious Mayor Quimby, characterizations of Republicans in episodes like “Sideshow Bob Roberts,” and the recurring exploitation of the town’s populist leanings, whether against bears or immigrants. Yet 2007’s Halloween episode contained a message that was so blatant and facile, a Family Guy viewer would have caught it. At the end of a segment parodying the reaction to Orson Welles’s 1938 radio broadcast The War of the Worlds, the aliens Kang and Kodos, who have destroyed the town and become an occupying force, survey the destruction. Kang blames Kodos, saying that he’d promised they would be greeted as liberators. “Don’t worry, we still have the people’s hearts and minds,” replies Kodos, holding up a human heart and brain. “I’m starting to think Operation Enduring Occupation was a bad idea,” says Kang. “We had to invade. They were working on weapons of mass disintegration,” Kodos insists, reinforcing the analogy yet again. “Sure they were,” concludes Kang. “This sure is a lot like Iraq will be.” This last line, made available to media on a preview DVD of the episode, was cut for broadcast, because Jean thought the reference was “too obvious.”4
FIFTEEN
Foxy Boxing
In which Moe, Apu, Principal Skinner, and Homer form a united front … Marge and Bart become scabs … we learn the difference between the Catholic church and the Catholic league … and Rupert Murdoch hates the Inte
rnet.
When any single entity, like The Simpsons, makes such a heavy imprint on its parent company, struggles over power are inevitable. Fox would emerge in the 2000s as the number one network on television, and in many ways The Simpsons provided the foundation for Fox’s growth, both financially and as its most recognizable brand (Disney has Mickey Mouse; Fox has Bart Simpson). This role made The Simpsons disproportionately powerful—the producers, writers, and actors could make demands that other employees simply couldn’t—so they thought.
If compensation was ever an issue for producers, it has never come to my attention—Fox has been more than happy to reward The Simpsons’ genius writers handsomely, even in consulting roles. The actors are a different matter. It was very much in Fox’s interest to keep the identities of the voices obscure for as long as possible to reinforce the notion that they were “replaceable.” Their perceived contribution was reflected in their small paychecks: in the first two years, they made $3,0001 an episode; by the late nineties, that figure had risen to $25,000,2 with a negligible percentage of the licensing and merchandising revenues. At the same time, the Seinfeld cast members were making $600,0003 per episode, and Home Improvement’s Tim Allen had signed a deal giving him $1.25 million4 per episode. The Simpsons’ voices were paid one-fiftieth of that, and in their opinion were making an integral contribution to a product that was making untold sums for its parent company.
As far as Fox was concerned, the actors were well compensated; after all, they were making tens of thousands per episode, for only a few hours of work each week. Also, the voices didn’t bear the same weight as actors on a sitcom, such as Friends or Seinfeld, and their lax schedule and virtual anonymity allowed them to pursue other projects in film and TV. In 1998, negotiations for new contracts turned bitter as the cast banded together, demanding more money and a share in the profits. Though showrunner Mike Scully refused to participate, Fox began auditioning replacements.
COLIN A.B.V. LEWIS, postproduction supervisor, The Simpsons (1989–97): There was a day, there was an actual moment, when the actors, who are normally just friendly, sat down and started talking more in depth about contracts. They asked us to give them some time alone, and we were thinking, Alone? You guys don’t hang out alone. They literally closed the door.
HANK AZARIA, voice actor, The Simpsons (1989–): The show has made so much money, in so many ways. Eventually, we just wanted to get our piece of the pie. And Fox is tough. They’re very tough negotiators. Their business model is not to give money away. So it got a little intense at times.
Julie Kavner and Nancy Cartwright signed separate deals, but Azaria, Shearer, Castellaneta, and Smith held out. Fox was happy to give them more money, but these four actors wanted points. On most sitcoms, the talent will be recognized as producers after a number of seasons and given a piece of the back end. Fox’s refusal even to discuss such an option was a reflection of their belief that the voices were simply not as important to The Simpsons as, say, the friends were to Friends.
The fact that the voices ended up getting a raise, but not a piece of the action, indicates that Fox was seriously considering replacing them. “If they get all new voices, some people will be upset until they get used to it,” a media buying executive told Variety. “Some people will say the show’s not the same, the voices are different. But I’ve got to believe the people at Fox are smart enough to get voices that closely approach the originals. There are enough mimics out there.”5
HANK AZARIA: Even if you can get people to sound a lot like us, it’s very difficult to get people who can perform it the same way. Ultimately, you get paid what you’re worth. Believe me, if they discovered in the course of that process that they could get other people, they absolutely would have done that.
LARRY DOYLE, writer/producer, The Simpsons (1998–2001): The actors actually didn’t come to work for a while. Their contract expired, and we weren’t recording them for I think a month. Fox had started to audition people. The actors got their deal in 1998 because of a last-minute bonus [and a raise to $50,000 per episode for Season 10, $60,000 for Season 11, and $70,000 for Season 126]. But it turned out that they weren’t going to get the bonus money until 2005 or something. So it was a real Fox “Fuck you,” where the fine print means, “We’re going to deliver that, in pennies, after you’re dead.” So Harry Shearer, for the longest time, came to every table read wearing a T-shirt that said, “You’ll Get It in 2005,” the suggestion being that he wasn’t going to do anything but work to contract.
Oddly, while Gracie Films refused to comment, other than to pledge their hope that things would be resolved, Jim Brooks certainly had a role in all of this too. The voices were officially negotiating with Fox, but Brooks and the other producers ultimately controlled The Simpsons’ content and held enormous sway with the network. It was Brooks’s lawyer, not the actors’ representatives, who came in to negotiate the bonus that ended the actors’ holdout. (Hence there’s an argument to be made that the “fuck you” bonus came from Brooks, not Fox.)
RUPERT MURDOCH: The voices who have been there since the very beginning are now getting very large salaries. I’m not saying whether they’re worth it or not or whether you could replace them or not, but Jim Brooks wouldn’t hear of that, because they’re all his friends.
It is highly unlikely Jim Brooks would take that position—he wasn’t really good friends with the actors, and he’s first and foremost a businessman. “If he was saying he didn’t want to replace them, it was because he thought the show would tank, and I think it probably would have,” a former producer says. “Had they replaced Homer, I think that would have been the last year of the show.”
HANK AZARIA: I think that Fox, and even our own representation, didn’t realize how much these voices couldn’t just be replaced. And also, by the way, you don’t animate first and then stick in voices. You’re animating to the vocal performance, so that means comic timing and inflection and character all come first, and then you animate. Bottom line is: they tried to replace us and couldn’t. [The voice actors who do The Simpsons in Japan were not so lucky. For the film, the regular voice actors were replaced by Fox Japan with celebrities from television and film. Fans were outraged.7]
In 2001, far kinder contract negotiations gave the cast $100,000 per episode for the following two seasons, $125,000 for the third, and delivered their $1 million bonuses four years early8 (Castellaneta was also given a production deal with Fox).
Things got ugly again in 2004, when the cast demanded more cash and equity positions, and stopped showing up to work until a deal was reached. The voices were clamoring for $8 million each per season (that’s $360,000 per episode) and some kind of back-end position,9 the first time voice actors had demanded to be treated on par with live action sitcom stars. For execs told The New York Times that it was “an enormous stretch” for the voices to make this comparison, noting that sitcom actors like Ray Romano and Kelsey Grammer are forever associated with their television characters, which can affect their future careers10 (Romano was reportedly receiving $1.7–$2 million per episode11 for his contribution to the most ironically named sitcom of all time, Everybody Loves Raymond. Not everybody. Trust me). Fox again pointed out that the workload for the voices was several hours per week, leaving them time to pursue other opportunities in film, TV, and theater.12 Jim Brooks and the other producers at Gracie refused to comment.
The actors and their representatives hired a financial analyst who specialized in TV and presented Fox with a report claiming that in its lifetime, The Simpsons had made $2.5–$3 billion;13 it was time they got their share. Fox execs claimed this number was astronomically high and said it did not take into account the high cost of producing an animated show and paying its massive staff. The voices’ refusal to come to work stretched toward May, with Fox claiming that the strike would curtail the show’s thirteenth season (it didn’t), and finally threatening to cancel the series.14 During the last week of April, Fox put forth a final offer, wh
ich the actors accepted, settling on approximately $300,000 per episode.15 (Variety reported that two of the voices had broken ranks, putting pressure on the others to drop their demand for profit sharing. “You’re only as strong as your weakest link,” a source close to the negotiation told the newspaper.)
The most recent dispute was settled in the summer of 2008, with production being delayed several months as the actors demanded $500,000 per episode.16 In early June, a deal was announced, giving the cast members, with the exception of Harry Shearer, $400,000 per episode for the coming nineteenth and twentieth seasons, and naming Castellaneta a consulting producer.17 Shearer hammered out the terms of his contract several weeks later. The show has been renewed to Season 22. The next round of negotiations will take place in 2010.
DONICK CARY, writer/producer, The Simpsons (1996–99): They have an hour of work a week—or two hours a week—and, you know, at this point they’re bringing in three, four million a year.
Other than Mike Scully, none of the producers, especially the senior ones like Brooks, Sakai, and Al Jean, have ever weighed in on the negotiations or the importance of the cast to their show, a fact that Fox could take advantage of during talks. After all, it became much more difficult for the actors to negotiate if just one of them broke ranks. Not all of them have much else going on in their careers outside of The Simpsons. It isn’t difficult to imagine that one or several of the voices were afraid of losing their job, no matter how much they stood to make if they held on. Fear, it seems, spreads faster than greed. Without support from Gracie and Brooks, Fox could tell an actor that Brooks was sick of all the BS from them, that it was getting to be more trouble than it was worth. Gracie’s silence throughout these flare-ups with the cast speaks volumes about its commitment to the cast.