2024 is a tough time to be writing about television. Journalists are losing their jobs every week, media companies are collapsing every week. And those companies that do remain are often forced to stretch the definition of what it means to be a news organization. When you're running faux "shopping guide" pieces mixed in with your news coverage, you know the future is not looking bright.
And in the rapidly declining world of entertainment and media journalism, TV critics are an even smaller subset of journalists. I have no firm data to back this up, but I suspect the number of journalists who make a living primarily reviewing television nationally is much less than 50. Yes, there are many more freelancers covering television and some of them manage to make a living doing it. But even the most optimistic take on the profession is that it is endangered. Severe financial pressures and fear mean that too much of writing about television in 2024 is consumed with aggregating hot stories from elsewhere or lightly rewriting press releases and podcast interviews.
The twice-a-year Television Critics Association gathering just wrapped up in Pasadena and one of the interesting sidelights of the experience is that you get to speak with journalists at all experience levels. I spent time speaking with someone who had been attending TCA events for close to 30 years as well as new journalists who are trying to freelance their way into a career.
And one common conversation involved deciding what guidelines you wanted to work under. How do you best do your job under circumstances that are both financially stressful and where "the rules" of how things are done are seemingly being rewritten every week?
Several people passed along this piece by famed film critic Roger Ebert, in which he laid out the rules he lived by. I decided to lay out some guidelines of my own, although I want to stress these are my own personal guidelines. Everyone has their lines of behavior. I'm also mindful of the fact that I've worked hard to get to the point where I'm my own boss. So I can write what I want and turn down problematic situations a freelancer can't reject.
But with all of these caveats, here are some of the rules I live by as I work. Your mileage may vary:
Do Your Homework
It astounds me how many journalists will interview someone and only have the vaguest grasp of the show they're working on. I can't imagine doing it, but the "TV writer who hasn't watched my show" problem is so common, that it's almost become an industry trope. Most pitches from publicists now come with a reminder that you're required to at least watch two episodes of the show before an interview. This is a bit like feeling it necessary to remind a writer that before they can review the newest Ford truck, they should know how to drive.
I get it. Everyone has a time crunch and especially when you're freelancing, you never have the prep time you deserve. But believe me, no one is fooled when you try and get by asking open-ended questions such as "How would describe your character to someone who has never seen the show?"
A related point to this is that you should try and learn the fundamentals of the business, even if it's not something you use every day in your writing. It's difficult to write about television if you've never heard of Les Moonves or watched an episode of Seinfeld. You don't have to be an expert. But I do believe a certain level of knowledge about core things in the industry is necessary to do the job well.
Your Audience Is The Viewer
TV writers are no different than any other journalists. There is a part of us that can't help but show off our knowledge of the subject. And so a lot of reviews - especially in bigger publications - spend most of the available space going through the history of the television medium, similar shows that worked or didn't work, problems with the production, and rumors about the studio or network's faith or lack thereof in the project.
It's fine to provide context - that's part of the job. But by the end of your review, it really should answer a couple of core questions. Is this something worth watching? Who might like this show? Should I give it a try even if it's not my normal type of program?
Every writer wants to impress their peers and the people they are covering. But there's nothing more uncomfortable than reading a writer who is obviously playing to the industry. Their writing can be exceptional. But it's also often not that useful to the average reader.
You Are A Professional
Most people want to write about television because they love the medium and the people working it. We are all fans of someone and it's one of the odd natures of this work that you can get thrown together with your idols in professional situations.
But you are not there as a fan. You are there to do a job and that means reminding yourself why you are there. That means no selfies, no gushing stories about how much their work means to you. You don't ask them for favors or try and sneak a family member into some professional event so they can meet their idol. You are on the clock and you can be friendly and joke around without crossing that line into unprofessional behavior. Television writers have a fairly bad reputation within the industry and this is one of the reasons.
You Are Not Their Friends
This is a related rule, but it's worth repeating. Just because someone is friendly to you at a party doesn't make them your friend. And that's a good thing because it's nearly impossible to accurately report on someone with whom you have a personal relationship.
That's not to say that you can't have industry friends. I have some old ex-stand-up buddies who I've remained close to and who still work in the industry. And I just don't write about them. I don't trust myself to be dispassionate about their work. That is also the case with a few people in the industry I've made friends with over the years. Once we're actual friends, I won't write about you. I don't want you to worry I'll accidentally disclose something or that I'll write about some comment you made to me in a friendly setting.
The only way I can do this job is to draw some hard-and-fast lines between my professional and personal life. I won't lie, it's a tough distinction. But it has to be done.
Ignore The Trailers
Not everyone has the luxury of doing this. But I refuse to write a piece that dissects a trailer or tease from some upcoming project. I also won't lightly rewrite a press release and pretend that some level of reporting is involved. I'll post the trailer and post the press release in my press release section. But I'm a journalist, not a stenographer.
Don't Insert Yourself Into Your Writing. Unless You Do.
Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel influenced an entire generation of movie writers and you can see their influence in the industry several generations later. And some of their rules are also seen as bulwarks in the television writing business. One of which is that you don't insert yourself in the story. That belief is so ingrained in the industry that doing so is seen as unprofessional and the mark of someone who isn't a "real" journalist.
But I didn't grow up reading Siskel and/or Ebert. I grew up reading the great 1970s-era rock writers from Creem, Circus, Hit Parader, and Bomp! These writers infused their writing with a dizzying combination of passion, anger, and self-expression that formed the way I write. And given the chance, that's the type I review I most enjoy writing.
Most reviews I write are fairly straightforward. But when the moment is right I'm not afraid to make my feelings the core of the review and I think it works out pretty well for the most part. But it's not something most editors would allow and I try and make sure that when I break such a cardinal rule of TV criticism, I do it to make the piece more relevant and compelling.
Write About The Show That Is On The Screen
This is a variation of something Gene Siskel once said to me when I was writing freelance pieces for the Chicago Tribune back in the Stone ages. It's tempting to spend your review writing about the show you wish they would have made, or the casting decisions they got wrong. And it's fine to include that. But don't forget that at the end of the day, your job is to let viewers know whether they should watch the show they can should watch. Not the imaginary one your secret network executive brain dreamed up.
Never Be Afraid To Write A Bad Review
I'll leave this one to Roger Ebert, because I can't say it better than he did:
If you give one to the work of a friend, and they're not your friend any more, they weren't ever your friend. As Robert Altman once told me, "If you never gave me a bad review, what would a good review mean?" He was a great man. He thought over what he had said, and added: "But all your bad reviews of my films have been wrong."
I can't argue with that.
I have other rules I could share, but I am rapidly running into an example of a writing rule I tend to break quite a bit: learn when to wrap it up.
UPDATE:
A couple of hours after I posted this, I got this feedback on Twitter/X and I wanted to respond to it, because I think it's a fair point:
That certainly wasn't my intent and if it came across that way, I apologize.
I spent a number of years as a freelancer and it's a tough gig. I was trying to make the point that when you're freelancing, it's a lot more difficult to draw lines in the sand about what you will or won't do. It's easy for me to be all high-minded about my guidelines, but that's a lot easier to do when you're the boss. I've written pieces as a freelancer I didn't love, but you do what you need to do to get a check.
And my point of mentioning the role of freelancers at the TCA wasn't an effort to diminish their work or abilities. It's a way of reflecting the reality that a lot of what used to be full-time TV writer jobs are now being filled by an ever-revolving group of freelancers. Now many of these freelancers should be on staff. The fact they are not makes their jobs and our profession in general feel much less secure.
