What difference does five minutes make?
Take the 11 o'clock news. Any reasonable person would expect that the local news people are happy to fall in line with the tidy half-hour blocks that dictate the rest of the TV schedule. But all the late-night newscasts continue past the half hour to 11:35.
Why? My first theory was that the shift is intended to lock viewers in to the big networks and keep them away from cable. After all, who wants to see a show on another station that started five minutes ago? Better just stick right here with good old ABC (or CBS or NBC) and their peculiar 11:35 schedule.
But this idea doesn't hold up because late night is the time during which the least channel flipping occurs. The lead-in from the 10:00 p.m. show is the biggest factor in the post-11:00 ratings. After that, viewers generally don't browse (because many of them are in bed), so a "lock-in" tactic would be redundant.
(And note that TBS, which schedules all of its programming five minutes after the half hour, has demonstrated through years of unremarkable ratings that the shift doesn't really work anyway.)
So the rationale behind the five minute bonus must be that Your Local Eyewitness News just can't tell you all of the day's happenings in one measly half hour! This makes sense at first. After all, they do have the burden of reporting on the entire day, unlike the amateurs at the noon news desk -- they only have to contend with six hours, tops.
But do the newscasts use those extra five minutes efficiently? No! In fact, the last five minutes is consistently dedicated to the most irrelevant crap that the junior reporters could dredge up.
A typical wrap-up will begin with a story about, for example, the latest wacko to attempt a circumnavigation of the globe in a hot-air balloon (this one pops up frequently). The only requirement is that the story must contain no useful or applicable information.
If you haven't gone to make yourself a bowl of cereal by this point, you will be returned to the anchor desk, crowded with select members of Your Action News Team.
The overly manicured anchor will now quip an eye-roll inducing pun, which in our example will be along the lines of, "Now that was an UPLIFTING story!" Riotous chuckling and ribaldry will ensue, and the nonchalant anchor will barely be able to contain his excitement at how darn clever he is.
Finally, the bastard children of local news, the sports and weather guys, will be begrudgingly acknowledged with a cursory "How about those Pats!" or "How about that snow!" And there's your news.
I think this trend has come into being from years of producers' disgust with their primadonna on-camera talent. I can see them guffawing at the story meeting as they concoct the latest ridiculousness that the self-important anchor will be forced to read. ("Look what I got off the wire -- a cat in Wisconsin that can crochet! I can't wait to see the look on Brent's face when we give him this!)
The privilege of an extra five minutes has been abused long enough. Local News People, end with some relevant information, or let Letterman come on early.
We routinely tolerate mundane five-minute stretches in all of television, not just the news. There must have been a study done that five minutes is the longest time an audience will sit through unentertaining drivel (although the success of "Malcolm in the Middle" would suggest that the limit is at least half an hour).
If you start watching "The X-Files" at 9:00, how often is your interest held past 9:55? The last five minutes are just commercials and credits, as with any other network drama or sitcom.
But wait, you say, there's "Stay tuned for scenes from next's week's 'X-Files!'" This is an interesting phenomenon in itself. Apparently, "X-Files" fans feel like they are getting a special preview of next week's episode, but really they are getting a special preview of the 30-second spot that will saturate the Fox airwaves for seven days.
Some shows make their closing minutes marginally engaging by running a short segment on the left side of the screen during the credits. With the exception of "Seinfeld" and "Frasier," these aren't funny, but they're not commercials, so we're glad to have them.
We were glad to have them, that is. A few years ago, the credits vignettes were all the rage on the big networks, but once the programming executives realized that their ploy had worked -- we were staying tuned for the extra morsel of fun -- they took the opportunity to show us more advertising.
So now we obligingly don't change the channel when the show has ended, hoping in vain that we will get just one more glimpse of those characters! One more wacky antic! One more glib remark! But instead we get a promo for "Diagnosis: Murder" and a lingering feeling of emptiness.
So TV watchers, unite! Demand a full half-hour of television enjoyment! If ABC is going to pay Regis Philbin $20 million for every episode of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire," he can do a little soft-shoe while we wait for "The Practice" to begin. And if the local news is going to bump the "Late Show" to 11:35, it had better start making a case for itself.
Because five minutes makes a big difference.
