What The Heck Is Going On At Turner Classic Movies? (And What Happens Next?)
UPDATE: On June 23, David Zaslav announced (via The Hollywood Reporter) that oversight of TCM has been handed to Pamela Abdy and Michael De Luca, who head up Warner Bros.' film division. This follows a joint statement by Martin Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Steven Spielberg after an "emergency call" with Zaslav on the 21st, in which the filmmakers reported being "heartened and encouraged" by the new plans for TCM.
It was previously reported that Michael Ouweleen, the president of Adult Swim, Cartoon Network, Discovery Family, and Boomerang, would take over for longtime executive VP and general manager, Pola Changnon, but the switch to Abdy and De Luca has reassured some film fans that the beloved network is in good hands. The original article follows as published.
Warner Bros. Discovery sent shockwaves crashing through the movie world yesterday when they carried out a decapitation strike against the leadership of Turner Classic Movies. For those inclined to believe WB Discovery CEO David Zaslaz (a contingent that shrinks by the day), the announcement was especially startling given his appearance at April's TCM Classic Film Festival, where, alongside Steven Spielberg and Paul Thomas Anderson, he committed to the protection and restoration of his studio's massive movie library, and expressed a deep admiration for the cinephile-fave cable channel that holds this annual event.
"I'm a fan just like you," enthused Zaslav. "If I wasn't [on stage], I would be sitting with you." He then added, "I watch Turner Classic Movies all the time. It's the history of our country, the motion pictures."
Alas, it appears TCM is about to be history.
How else should we view the gutting of its executive brain trust, which was made up of movie lovers who treated the curation of the studio's library as a heartfelt mission? Among the fired are executive vice president and general manager Pola Changnon, senior VP of programming and content strategy Charles Tabesh, VP of enterprises and strategic partnerships Genevieve McGillicuddy, marketing VP Dexter Fedor, and VP of studio production Anne Wilson.
It's rare for consumers to know suits by name, but this group ran TCM as a channel they'd want to watch 24/7. McGillicuddy created the TCM Fest, which, every April, screens pristine prints of beloved classics and underseen triumphs ripe for rediscovery. Tabesh was the ace programmer who resisted a play-the-hits mentality. Thanks to him, my DVR (when I had one) used to be loaded with rarities, some of which didn't even make the leap to VHS. TCM was the only outlet that could or cared to air these movies. We can't afford to lose this.
But don't start shoveling the dirt just yet. A filmmaking cavalry is riding in for a last-second rescue.
Zaslav has meddled with the primal forces of cinema
According to The Wrap, Zaslav's despicable decision has earned him an "emergency call" with Spielberg, Anderson, and Martin Scorsese (whose indispensable The Film Foundation relies heavily on TCM for fundraising and as a showcase for its restorations). I cannot imagine they're thrilled with being used by Zaslav to falsely assuage the fears of classic movie lovers, who were already miffed by the bungled launch of Max (and its guild-flouting treatment of writers, directors, and producers as indistinct "creators").
We'll have to wait on how this call shakes out, but, oh, how I wish Zaslav was dealing with late '70s Scorsese and late '90s Anderson. The fiery invective blazing off the phone would melt his Rolex to his wrist. But aside from a tongue-lashing, I'm not sure what's to be gained here. The best case is that Zaslav reverses himself and re-hires the aforementioned, who, as Mark Harris sagely noted on Twitter, weren't just execs. These were stewards who valued the 100 years' worth of cinema produced by a legendary studio. And they weren't old elitists. They believed a 1930s pre-code screwball comedy, presented in the correct context, could play to TikTok-addicted twentysomethings.
An old-ish interview with Scorsese is making the rounds today wherein he marvels that Vittorio De Sica's neorealist classic "Umberto D" was airing on TCM at 4 a.m. Evidently, the director would keep TCM running on a television adjacent to his editing room and would refresh his mind by watching bits and pieces of older films. A simple cut from someone else's movie could grant him insight on a scene that wasn't quite coming together, while sometimes just knowing the history of the medium that is his lifeblood was accessible 24/7 on a cable channel that used to be included in most providers' basic packages.
An A-list hail mary to save a classic movie institution
Of the three directors on this call, Spielberg is the likeliest to play the peacemaker. He's been friends with Zaslav for a while (he spoke glowingly of the exec in a Vanity Fair profile), and is poised to direct a re-something-or-other of Peter Yates' Steve McQueen vehicle "Bullitt" for Warner Bros. But I can't think of a moment in my lifetime when a studio boss tried to play Spielberg for a chump, which, considering all available evidence, is what Zaslav did here. That TCM Fest Q&A, which preceded the screening of a restored print of Howard Hawks' "Rio Bravo," was fraudulent. That it was done in the midst of WB's 100th birthday celebration was a staggering betrayal. To my mind, it did a bit of damage to Spielberg's reputation as a custodian of film history. He knows better than to trust a snake like Zaslav.
Worst of all, even if this trio muscles concessions out of the executive, there's no reason to trust Zaslav going forward. He doesn't care about movies. He can name-drop obvious titles like "Casablanca" and "Gentlemen's Agreement" all he wants, but he just egested his true, anti-cinema colors all over the WB water tower. He is a bottom-line obsessed enemy of the art form, and Spielberg/Scorsese won't always be around to shame him into doing right by the legacy of the studio he purchased. This is a perilous state of play for movie lovers.