Miami Vice is a truly remarkable television programme - no, not merely a television programme, a television event. Whoever made the decision to allow Don Johnson to perform in front of a camera without shaving for three days struck an incredible blow for both radical chic and greater realism in the television medium
I mean, sometimes even the prettiest men look like hell, and it's about time this was reflected in our entertainment.
The creativity involved in the creation of an artistic masterpiece is immense; but, in the case of a television hit like Miami Vice, it must be practically beyond mortal comprehension. Can you imagine what it would be like to be the producer of Miami Vice, if you were responsible for making those day to day decisions that could make or break the show?
You answer the phone. On the other end is Jan Hammer, musical director. "Yeah, Jan," you ask, "what's up?"
"You know the chase scene?"
"The first one?"
"Which one is that?"
"The one that ends with the spectacular crash into a parked concrete mixer?"
"No, that's not it. I guess I'm talking about the second chase - the one that ends with the spectacular crash into a brick wall."
"Oh. Okay. Now, I know which one you mean. What about it?"
"Can you cut 11 seconds out of it? I've got a great piece of music to go with it - perfect, but the scene is too long."
"What should I replace those 11 seconds with?"
"I don't know - why don't you add them to the hospital scene?"
You consider this for a moment. "I don't know..."
"It's great - emotional stuff. The audience will love it! Besides, I have no music for it..."
"It's already too long. Two and a half minutes without a spectacular crash..."
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks."
The line goes dead, You have just enough time to outline the problem to an assistant director before the phone rings again. It's Barbi Breakstone, who works in wardrobe. She sounds angry.
"Barbi," you say, "calm down. What's wrong?"
"Scene 78," Barbi hotly tells you. "That's what!"
In any given week, you have to juggle three or four different scripts simultaneously, so you don'' immediately recognize the one to which she is referring. "What exactly is the problem?" you ask.
"You've got Tubbs wearing a $300 suit, and then rolling around in the dirt like some common criminal!"
"He is supposed to be a police officer, and police officers have been known to have to deal with violent criminals..."
"Not in one of my expensive suits! Don't you understand the first thing about fashion? I can't clean this material - I'll have to throw the suit out! You'll have to change the script..."
"You mean, we should let the criminal go free?"
"Can't somebody else arrest him?"
"I'm sorry...the script...you know how it is..."
"Alright! Alright - how about if I put him in a stunt suit?"
"A stunt suit?"
"Yeah, sure. When the fight starts, we replace the suit with a less expensive one. With the right editing, nobody will notice."
"I...I'll give it some thought."
"Thanks."
No sooner do you hang up, than the phone rings yet again. You consider not answering and giving yourself some time to consider the problems you already have on your plate. But, being the producer, no detail is too small to be unworthy of your time, and you know it. The call is from a man in continuity.
"We've got a serious problem, here," he tells you.
"What's wrong?"
"I've been looking at some of the footage we shot last week. In scene 63, Don has a three day growth. That's fine: the script calls for it. But, in the rushes for the next scene, it's down to a day's growth."
"Noticeable?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Damn! Is there anything we can do optically?"
"That's not really my department, but I doubt it."
You sigh. I guess we'll just have to shoot the scene again."
"Sounds like."
"I'll get in touch with the director. Thanks."
A successful television producer must be in control of a million small details in every production. With so much to keep in mind, it's a wonder that any television shows ever get made!
