This is an article written specifically about TV and TV programming.
Owning a Cookie Cutter Doesn't Make You a Baker - On TBS' Ground Floor
Over the last decade, more and more cable networks have dipped their toes into the large, daunting pool of original programming. The formula is simple enough: Identify the programming that made your channel popular, leverage that popularity, and create an original program that fits among the shows that drew viewers to your channel in the first place.
A perfect example of this was one of the earliest--becoming a sort of blueprint for success: USA Network was once a haven for syndicated films and off-network dramas before testing the waters with originals that felt similar to their existing programming: Silk Stalkings and La Femme Nikita, followed by one of TV’s most successful police procedurals, Monk. This paved the way for other wildly popular franchises like Pysch and Burn Notice.
Other networks followed suit: FX leveraged hit FOX reruns into The Shield and Nip/Tuck. AMC parlayed the appeal of airing critically acclaimed dramatic films into Mad Men and Breaking Bad. Most recently, TV Land began airing classic-style, multi-camera sitcoms among their syndicated sitcom schedule. In each case, the network knew their audience, and simply gave them more of the same - only now it was original: A safe strategy and a calculated risk.
Nowadays, there are more networks than you can shake a stick at, and most of them are looking to duplicate those aforementioned successes. The problem is, it seems some are doing it rather haphazardly - assuming they can simply stick a show that remotely resembles their format into a time slot and not worry about the quality of said product. Such is the case with longtime cable stalwart TBS.
Originally an Atlanta broadcast TV channel (WTCG), TBS began life as something rather revolutionary: a local, independent network that was broadcast nationally via satellite - something that became known as a superstation. As with many other basic cable networks, most of their programming was comprised of other networks’ originals and syndicated movies. By the late 90s, TBS decided to counter the dramatic programming of its sister network (TNT) by focusing more on acquiring syndicated comedies. Eventually, TBS wholly embraced this theme and rebranded themselves with the slogan Very Funny, airing hits ranging from Home Improvement to Seinfeld, a ratings juggernaut. It was inevitable that TBS execs would look at the successes of USA, AMC and TV Land and assume they could do the exact same thing. The idea seemed fool-proof: People were tuning in to their channel to see half-hour comedies, so why not produce their own? However, instead of cultivating quality writing and compelling characters, they instead chose to opt for speed of delivery to get anything on the air. The result? Barely passable cookie-cutter comedies like Sullivan and Son and, now, Ground Floor.
The premise of Ground Floor is simple: Two different strata of workers must interact with each other in the same workplace: Lowly office support staff on the ground floor, and high-powered financial execs on the top floors. This is a concept that’s by no means fresh, but is nonetheless rife with potential humor. But for it to really work work, a show needs certain things to elevate the source material above and beyond cookie cutter to something memorable. First and foremost among these items is an engaging, likable set of characters - which is where the show makes its first, and biggest blunder.
Much of Ground Floor is recycled vanilla sitcom fodder, but, Ironically, the one area in which Ground Floor strays from that standard structure is where it fails most harshly: Instead of making the safe move of creating a likable, relatable lead that the audience roots for, the writers have opted for a smarmy, good looking, well-off yuppie. Brody Moyer (portrayed by Pitch Perfect's Skylar Astin) plays an Ivy League grad who is being groomed for leadership at a prominent banking firm. In the world of sitcoms, he already has everything: A plum job, good looks, a comfortable lifestyle, a great future and--within 30 minutes of the first season--a bombshell of a girlfriend. What makes him relatable? What makes him someone I want to root for? What is his appeal?
Every work--drama, comedy or otherwise--needs a character people can relate to, regardless of his social standing, wealth or appearance: At face value, the characters of NBC’s Friends should've been annoying: entitled 20-somethings living in expensive apartments spending their days sitting around a coffee shop BSing. It was what was beneath the surface that made them seem real: their problems were just like ours, and each one had struggles, insecurities and quirks that made them human. Sex in the City could’ve ended up as a story of a whiny self-employed woman with inexplicable funds, but it focused on her and her friend’s inability to find a lasting, real relationship to provide the drama - a problem we can all relate to. Even Ground Floor’s creator Bill Lawrence’s previous shows Scrubs and Cougar Town took characters that could’ve been irritating (A quippy internist en route to a lucrative medical career and a group of entitled, well-off 40-somethings living in a semi- gated community) into appealing, engaging characters by giving each their own insecurities and everyman troubles. So far, Brody’s biggest concerns are whether he’s spent too much money on a sweater for his gorgeous girlfriend or if he’s the one who get the big office.
Which brings us to the other major issue with the show: There’s very little tension or conflict. Before we’ve even sat through the first commercial break of the pilot episode, the rich Ivy League banker has bedded down the hottest female employee in the building. As if that’s not bad enough, when the show presents the possibility that the couple has done this without any forethought and must break it off, that angle is completely quashed within minutes. Instead, the rich, good looking banker without any relatable flaws spends the first season kissing, hugging and living in yuppie love wonderland with Office Worker Barbie. And as if that wasn’t enough, Brody’s professional life never seems in jeopardy either - he’s on the fast track to a 7-figure salary, and doesn’t have a single hiccup of any consequence along the way, save for having to do some work once in a while.
Imagine if Ross had dated Rachel in the first episode of Friends, and they got married by the end of the season? What if Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd committed to a normal relationship in the first episode of Moonlighting? What if Zach Braff’s character on Scrubs didn’t run into potential career-derailing moments and question his ability as a doctor? What if Leonard and Penny forged a loving, trusting monogamous relationship in the first 3 episodes of Big Bang Theory? Where to go from there? It’s as if the writers of Ground Floor punched in a cheat code on a game controller, giving their leading man infinite resources and powers to avoid any pitfalls, like a pesky character arc.
The lead isn’t the only badly drawn character. Another staple of good sitcoms is surrounding the lead(s) with an engaging, quirky supporting cast. The key is not taking these characters for granted: They can’t simply "exist," they need to be well-drawn and likable--at times more likable than the leads. Seinfeld elevated this to an art form, as does Big bang Theory - to the point which viewers often feel drawn to the secondary characters more than the leads.
Ground Floor unfortunately has opted for a rather crudely-drawn, flat supporting cast: Jenny (Briga Heelan) seems just quirky enough, though laughably unrealistic (It’s as if a blonde Jessica Rabbit has ended up in some sort of witness protection program and must work in a dark basement as a maintenance worker). Then, there’s the slightly watchable troublemaker/nemesis "Harvard" who channels Chris Elliot (Rory Scovel), two maintenance workers that provide absolutely nothing to the plot aside from being sleepy (Alexis Knapp) and sassy (James Earl) and a fellow Ivy Leaguer named "Threepeat" (Rene Gube) that has the on-screen presence of an end table. The only character with any spark is veteran actor John C. McGinley’s Mansfield - and he’s just Dr. Cox in a business suit.
Yes-this is only the first season, so perhaps the writers will spread their wings, but almost every successful sitcom has established an engaging ensemble by this point. With these flaws, one would think the writers must be aware of the lackluster product they’re airing - and I suspect they do, since they use a particularly awkward tactic to distract viewers: Rather than simply write better material, they rely heavily on the pre-existing, middling popularity of Pitch Perfect (a film in which Skylar Astin sings): Whenever the show seems to slip into derivative-ville, the writers find some deus ex machina to get Astin to sing something: An incongruous karaoke bar, a youtube video, etc. It’s like writing a sitcom for Gallagher and resorting to smashing Watermelons to maintain viewership. The odd thing is that Pitch Perfect wasn’t even that big of a film, and using its limited notoriety feels forced and off-putting.
In the end, the twofold flaw of Ground Floor is that it is at odds with itself: Whenever it should follow the accepted rules, it doesn’t, resulting in an unlikeable lead and no conflict. When it DOES follow sitcom tropes, it does so to a fault - resulting in a generic, interchangeable supporting cast and all-too familiar plots. True, Ground Floor is not nearly as terrible as TBS’ previous offering, Sullivan and Son (a show whose writing makes According to Jim look like Breaking Bad), but as it stands, it seems little more than time-passing, generic fare. TBS made the mistake of assuming any sitcom would be acceptable to viewers when it's sandwiched between its syndicated nighttime fare. They rolled out USA and TV Land's blueprint in their war room, but jumped into battle without the proper ammunition.
Of course, this isn’t to say the effort isn’t appreciated - the fact that they're even bothering to create a scripted original program amidst a sea of terrible reality television is admirable. That said, they need to step their game up if they want shows like this to stay afloat. One would hope they realize that just because something airs between The Big Bang Theory, doesn’t mean it IS The Big Bang Theory.
