SMASH: A Retrospective -- Feb. 6, 2012 - May 26, 2013

It's been one week since the series finale of Smash. It came and went without too much fanfare and only 2.4 million people tuned in to see the final episode. Heck, even NBC barely realized it was on. Wasn't this supposed to be the show that saved NBC?! What the hell happened?!

Let's take a minute and rewind to Super Bowl 2012, we were all there, weren't we? Aside from the onslaught of ads previewing the new season of The Voice, which was kicking off right after the big game, NBC's main concern was promoting the hell out of their new, buzzy, critically-acclaimed project, Smash. Initially, it looked like they were onto something. The promos were slick, exciting and promised an upscale, beautifully shot (and performed) glimpse into the world of the Broadway musical. A world that many knew little about but certainly something many would be interested in. Simply put, it looked like NBC had a big, huge hit on their hands.

The pilot premiered to the tune of 12 million viewers and audience and critical reaction were favorable. And for those opening 46 minutes, they had the right to be. The pilot set up a rich world and an interesting, distinct set of characters that held a lot of promise. Debra Messing and Christian Borle played Julia and Tom, a convincingly loveable playwright duo hellbent on finding a new hit. Jack Davenport played Derek, the successful, albeit creepy, director, and Angelica Huston served as the Broadway producer, Eileen Rand, with enough martini tossing sass to put any showbiz diva to shame. The premiere also introduced us to Katherine McPhee (in her first major gig post American Idol) as Karen and Megan Hilty (an accomplished young face from Broadway) as Ivy – two young, aspiring actresses eying the coveted role of Marilyn in "Bombshell," the musical Julia and Tom dreamed up (and the show's central story engine.) The pilot ended with Karen and Ivy both belting out "Let Me Be Your Star," an original song by composers Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, who signed on to compose original music for the series. The number was one of the finer endings to a pilot I've seen. It perfectly set up the central conflict of the series while leaving the audience thrilled and excited for what's to come. For a moment, I REALLY was. Then.... the "what's to come" came.

Almost immediately, Smash went from a matured, well-performed, written and structured piece of nighttime drama to a laughable, embarrassingly scripted, piece of melodrama that essentially defined a new form of TV viewing known as "hate-watching." The promising plot threads developed in the pilot were soon tossed out the window to make room for boring subplots involving adoption, marital issues, awkward affairs and Ellis.

Jaime Cepero as Ellis; Photo Courtesy: NBC

LOOK AT HIM! This is what I imagine him looking like at the meeting with Theresa Rebek (oh yeah, she created the show) when they cheers-ed to his character ruining everything and anything potentially promising throughout the series. Originally, Ellis served as an assistant to Tom, which makes perfect sense. A well-accomplished Broadway composer WOULD have an assistant. In the pilot, Ellis is actually the one to suggest to Julia and Tom that Marilyn would "make for a great musical." Everyone should have realized it right then and there that this was a tad fishy. Would the writers really make this awkward kid the catalyst for the entire freaking premise of the show?! But at the time, I think we all shrugged it off as "eh, he's kind of irritating but he'll fade into the background once this thing gets going..." Well, he faded into the background, all right – into EVERYONE's background. He was everywhere! The show integrated him into practically every scene and storyline for no apparent reason. He was working for Tom and then for Eileen, then he had a girlfriend and then he poisoned Uma Thurman's (she guest-starred towards the end of season one) smoothie?! He never served a greater purpose as a character aside from throwing a wrench in any possible interesting story development, which stood as one the biggest issues with the show as its first season went on.

As more episodes passed and the general decline in quality continued, it became clear the original vision of the pilot had been lost somewhere at sea or in the mind of Theresa Rebek. The refreshing original music and inspired covers were tossed aside for lazy, wedged in musical numbers featuring the latest chart topping single or insane, what were they thinking, fantasy numbers. Remember "A Thousand and One Nights," the Bollywood number that happened because, actually I don't know why it happened, but it happened?! It was one of the most insane things I've ever seen on television, and I kind of loved it. It featured the entire cast, plus a number of background dancers, singing and dancing to a rather catchy Bollywood "type" song. It was SO out there and SO unnecessary that it felt like the show itself had realized it had officially lost its purpose and vision and just decided to throw its hands in the air and say – well, here's THIS. This is the moment I remember officially moving over to the dark side and joining "Team Hate-Watch." It took me until Episode 12, but it happened. The number was so bonkers, so far removed from the show I saw just a mere 11 episodes ago that it was evident that the show Smash was originally meant to be was long, long gone.

Photo Courtesy: NBC - Also, God for letting this happen

Throughout its first season, Smash tracked the feud between Ivy and Karen over who will win the role of Marilyn, the demise of Julia's marriage, and the eventual out-of-town tryout for "Bombshell." In short, it doesn't sound so bad, but the layers of muck that covered up that road were the issues. The lack of focus, the melodramatic plot twists, the back and forth of who would be playing Marilyn. It just got exhausting, very quickly. The amazing thing was even throughout all of that negative, I still held onto a glimmer of hope. SOMETHING kept me tuned in. I don't know what, but it was there and by the end of the season, when over half of the pilot's audience had sad bye for good, I was one of the 6 million 'fans' still watching.

After the insanity of season one, I only scraped the surface by the way, the show was still renewed for a second season.

Leading up to the premiere, NBC and the creative team were promising a reinvigorated, more focused and "better" Smash. Original show creator, Theresa Rebek was fired, mainly for her large part in the train-wreck of season one, and new showrunner, Joshua Safran (Gossip Girl) was brought on to help get the ship sailing again. From the early press reactions, it sounded like there was hope. In his takeover, Safran removed a lot of the problem characters and introduced some new ones. The most notable being Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls; American Idol) and Jeremy Jordan (another Broadway star; fresh from his Tony nominated role in Disney's Newsies). All of these changes seemed inspired and bold and for all the hate-watching that went on during its initial season, I was eager to see if the changes bettered the show and Smash had indeed improved.

After the two-hour premiere in early February, my thoughts were mixed. First, I HATE two-hour premieres. For returning series it's not as bad, but when NBC was treating the return as "the new Smash," why not give your audience one solid hour of programming and leave less room for missteps?! I'll never understand it. Anyway, in its return, the show had stabilized a bit. There were no insanely, ridiculous characters, the seriousness of the world had returned and there were far fewer eye rolls than in the latter episodes of season one. The premiere continued the trials and tribulations of "Bombshell," while also introducing two new aspiring talents, Jimmy Collins (Jordan) and Kyle Bishop (newcomer, Andy Mientus). Jimmy and Kyle were friends/writing partners working on a new musical together. Karen takes an interest in their endeavor and vows to help them get noticed and have their work heard. These two characters were the most important developments of the premiere (Jennifer Hudson's role ended up being a short-lived bit of stunt casting) as it set up two new conflicts for the series going forward – a show vs. show plot with Karen playing both sides, and also Karen's new romantic interest with Jimmy. I never really liked when Smash devoted too much time to relationship stuff because it was never good at drawing believable or interesting conflict from its characters that way. This time around, I thought it might work since they would be working together on the new musical and the premiere also alluded to a dark past for Jimmy which was kind of intriguing. 

The first hour of the premiere ended on Jimmy singing "Broadway, Here I Come," an original song composed by Joe Iconis, who signed on to pen more current, youthful music for the show's second season. The scene (and song) is probably my favorite from the show in its entirety. It was alive with energy, expertly performed by Jeremy Jordan, and tinged with a dark, sadness that I always felt the show was capable of. In that moment, I sat up on the couch and thought, for a moment, Smash was back.

Jeremy Jordan as Jimmy; Photo Courtesy: NBC

The following morning the overnight ratings were released and the headlines roared. "SMASH CRASHED!" The show dropped 71 percent from its first season premiere and only 4.5 million viewers tuned in.

In that moment, I think everyone knew the show was a dead. Viewers who loved the insane, over-the-top circus of season one didn't care anymore now that the show took itself seriously and those who were interested in watching a show that took itself seriously had left long ago. It didn't help that after the premiere, familiar problems returned and some new problems arrived. The storylines continued their dive into banality and predictability and though, initially interesting, Jeremy Jordan's character became an annoying, miserable, entitled jerk thus making his relationship with Karen unbearable to watch. Admittedly, it was still nice to have him around for musical numbers, but THAT was another issue. Smash's scenes paled in comparison to the musical numbers that often were rather impressive. It all just started to feel rather pointless. The ludicrousy of season one was gone but it turns out not much was left after that.

Now, not everything was bad. There were some definite musical highlights and a renewed focus on the world of Broadway and the actual process of getting a show to opening night. Especially in episode 11, "The Dress Rehearsal," where the dramatic conflicts were exclusively drawn from characters creative differences and opinions about THE SHOW and not who slept with who, or the other usual soap. Unfortunately by this time, the show had moved to Saturday nights and was averaging 1.9 million viewers.

As the season continued, it devoted much of its time to the story of "Hit List," the new musical that Jimmy and Kyle co-wrote. The season long arc played out as an homage to story of Rent's road to Broadway and the untimely death of that shows creator, Jonathan Larson. Smash told the story beat-for-beat. The off-Broadway beginnings, the cult following, and yes, even the death of the show creator. In a rather surprising cliffhanger, Kyle is offed by an upcoming car after he angrily walks home after firing Jimmy from his role in "Hit List." You see, Jimmy had delved into that "mysterious past" mentioned earlier, and started using hard drugs again. Snooze. After Kyle's death, the following episode devoted the entire hour to the characters mourning/coping in different ways. It tried very hard to be about something but was so hackneyed and out of left field that it came off cheap, undeserving of the drama, and maybe a little offensive. It was the most Season 1 the show had felt in a long time and hindered the final few episodes as the season headed to it's finale.

Last Sunday, the show ended at The Tony Awards, where "Bombshell" and "Hit List" competed for what seemed like every. single. award. The two-hour finale wrapped up the series as it lived. With some highs and lows. The first hour was a bit more successful as it showed everyone's final preparation for the awards and their last ditch efforts to get the right nominations for the right people. I'm not sure if this is actually how things work in the world of Tony nominations, but it was entertaining and felt urgent and a necessary step for the show and its characters. To kick off the final hour, the entire cast performed "Under Pressure," and it was kind of awesome. It was totally over-the-top but for some reason, it resonated with me. First, it was the only scene to ever show the entire string of series regulars in a single number. It began with them all in separate locations throughout the city but as the number continued they all ended up together, in an empty theatre, standing on a dimly lit stage – united.  When you tie it directly to The Tony Awards, it was a tad on the nose but if you apply it to Smash wrapping up for good, it was oddly moving and kind of depressing. Take a look at these lyrics...

'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the Night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure

I don't know what exactly any of this means for Smash or its characters or stories but I just thought it worked. Something in there worked and I loved it.

The final number of the finale and series, "Big Finish," was of course performed by Karen and Ivy, and was an ode to the series itself. It's certainly not one of the series most memorable performances but it at least allowed the finale to end with some sense of finality and acknowledgement of the dramatic ups and downs the series endured. Sadly, the number is intermixed with a few short scenes that were meant to set up the third season, but WHAT CAN YOU DO?!

Karen and Ivy performing "Big Finish"; Photo Courtesy: NBC

Even with all its problems and all my negative feelings towards it, I still look at Smash as a sad story of a brilliant premise with incredible potential that just continued to hit the wrong notes even when it was trying hard to hit the right ones. It's a shame that through 32 episodes the show couldn't get everything to click into place. And of course, by the second season, even if it had, no one was around to witness it. If it eventually clicked, I think it would have been a really special series. Instead, we are left with a lesson in what happens when just about everything goes wrong for a television series.

Even so, I had a blast keeping up with the show – whether it be hate-watching during its lowest lows or showing respect as it tried to climb out of the trenches, it was always entertaining. That's really one of the biggest things we ask from television and theater alike, right? I'll certainly miss the world of Smash, partly because I think a show like this could have worked, and worked well, but also because it had a lot of ambition. It took chances and you simply can't write off a something that strives to be bold and takes risks. It's just a shame that a lot of those risks never paid off the way they should have.

Regardless, I hope Smash isn't soon forgotten, even though its final curtain has closed. It deserves to be remembered and serve as inspiration for other networks and writers to think big and take a chance on the something different.

And for millions who look from afar.
I'm what you’ve been needing
It's all here and my heart’s pleading.
Let me be your star!