It’s safe to say that director David Lynch and writer Mark Frost were experiencing a boom in popularity after the initial success of the breakthrough series Twin Peaks. Unsurprisingly, this prompted ABC to greenlight another series developed by the duo, a little-known, short-lived sitcom called On The Air (1992). The pilot episode was voted number 57 out of TV Guide’s “100 Greatest Episodes of All Time.” Despite the accolade, only three of seven episodes aired in the U.S. between June 20 and July 4, 1992, but in the U.K., the series was shown in its entirety. The series is a weird and sometimes upsetting take on the traditional American sitcom. It is full of Lynch’s trademark surrealism with a cast of bizarre characters with strange maladies and personality quirks. In fact, in a conversation with the Los Angeles Times, one of the series’ stars, Miguel Ferrer, described the show as David Lynch doing “I Love Lucy on acid.”
What Is ‘On the Air’ About?
On the Air is a sitcom set in the 1950s. It follows the staff of a fictional production company, Zoblotnick Broadcasting Company, as they produce a live variety show called The Lester Guy Show, which has absurd and often disastrous results. Lester Guy (Ian Buchanan) is an English transplant and a classic Hollywood actor. He owes his fame more to the fact that every viable leading male actor was off fighting in the war. He’s pompous, washed up, and a cowardly egomaniac. He plays opposite Betty Hudson (Marla Rubinoff), the doe-eyed unlikely star of the show with no acting experience to speak of or a brain in her head. She is impossibly sweet and incredibly likable with her ditsy vibe somehow endearing instead of annoying. She is loved by the motley production crew and, more importantly, by the audience. The upending of Lester’s status as a star of the show forms the basis of the conflict that would drive subsequent episodes, with Lester inadvertently being upstaged by Betty despite Lester’s downright evil meddling.
In the pilot episode, the production crew of ZBC nervously and hurriedly prepares for the live premiere of The Lester Guy Show. The director is a German man with a thick accent that no one but his assistant can understand. Billy “Blinky” Watts (Tracey Walter), the technician who suffers from “Bozeman’s Simplex,” as the narrator explains, can see 25.62 times more than everyone else and pulls precisely placed levers. Bud Budwaller (Miguel Ferrer), the president of ZBC, barks orders like a drill sergeant, equal parts tyrant and soulless corporate executive. The troupe rehearses a dramatic kitchen scene with Betty portraying a philandering homemaker hopelessly in love with the elegant Lester.
When the episode goes live, disaster strikes and begins with Billy curing a sound effect at the wrong time. The production descends into unhinged chaos, leaving Lester unconscious after he falls, knocking over a prop light. A stand-in cast member trying to flee the scene with his suspenders caught in a door is flung slingshot style through the air into Lester’s face, knocking him out cold. To save the day, Betty sings a song her mother taught her. The switchboards light up, and Bud’s ‘hotline’ phone rings and shoots fire out. Shots of the home viewers sitting in bathtubs dressed as cowboys with horses laugh hysterically. The network executives have spoken, and they have a hit show. The episode is glorious chaos and genuinely funny, a farcical take on the studio experience, perhaps mirroring Lynch’s experience with television networks.
Why Was ‘On the Air’ Canceled After Three Episodes?
On the Air is indeed strange. Its slapstick circus-like approach to the traditional American sitcom would easily have been wildly out of place by television standards in 1992. This project was distinctly different from Lynch’s other work. It has none of the foreboding existential dread. While far less esoteric than Twin Peaks, the subversion of American sitcom norms is evident. The musical score is an excellent place to start. There are none of the bouncy upbeat tunes usually employed in network laugh-fests. Instead, there is a smooth jazz soundtrack that evokes a 50s film noir-type feel that contrasts significantly with the cornball eccentricities of the ZBC crew. Every character is imbued with an inner clown, a necessity of all good comedy writing, and is blown way out of proportion. Blinky’s condition is ridiculous, demonstrated by a narrator in a series of acid trip-like cutaways of images of ducks and cats in something resembling a modern-day cat meme. Lester’s Charlie Chaplin bumbling and fumbling is gratuitous to the point of incredulity, but is hilarious when pitted against Bud’s undying reverence for the poncy jerk. However, unlike the network executives in the series, the real-life ABC executives had a different idea.
One can assume that the network lost confidence in Lynch after the second season of Twin Peaks crashed and burned. Lynch himself expressed concern when ABC gave On the Air a Saturday night slot during summer, arguably the worst time slot to place a show. The Los Angeles Times reported Lynch’s comments: “I’ve heard that summertime is pretty much the worst time you can be on, but we’re going on in summer. I’ve heard that Saturday night is the worst night of the week, and we’re going on Saturday night… So I don’t know. What can you make of that?” And that would indeed be the case. Back in 1992, there was no way to see a show unless a person tuned in to a time slot. There was no streaming and, ever-present, always an accessible stream of content. A person tuned in or waited for the reruns. A time slot like this would mean competing with good weather and genuinely not being home, which doomed the new series.
On the Air was far ahead of its time, and the show just couldn’t hold the momentum created by its pilot episode and, as a result, fell into obscurity like other Lynch TV ventures such as Hotel Room. It was too strange and outlandish for audiences of the day to accept, and the network simply chose to bury the show, effectively killing it. While out of place for its time, modern eyes may find the show pretty fantastic by today’s standards. Its wild surrealism stands out as a type of mockery of network television spurned on by a creative’s broken heart, and perhaps with any luck, Lynch might one day revisit the series as he did with Twin Peaks: The Return.
