If Sunday afternoon is reserved for football, Sunday mornings belong to political talk shows.
Since the dawn of broadcast TV, each of the four serious networks (sorry, FOX) have offered both politicos and people intimidated by the Sunday paper a chance to watch the week’s top newsmakers.
Each of the four shows — CBS’s “Face the Nation,” NBC’s “Meet the Press,” ABC’s “This Week,” and PBS’s “McLaughlin Group” (taped Friday but re-aired Sunday) — harks back to an earlier era, when politicians spoke in more than eight-second sound bites and candidates were allowed to finish their sentences.
To each show’s downfall, the fact that political talk evolved into sound bites for a reason is lost on the shows’ producers.
Today, Sunday morning TV is a virtual soapbox for painfully longwinded politicians. The back-and-forth banter that makes late-night cable news mildly entertaining is completely lacking from all of the Sunday morning shows. The worst offender is CBS’s “Face the Nation.” The first to hit the air at 9:30 a.m., “Nation” tries to ease viewers into the campaign spirit by offering two or three guests free reign for about 10 minutes each, followed by a bizarre commentary on the week’s news. This week’s show featured National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice offering an excruciatingly detailed and upbeat explanation of the president’s position regarding North Korea. Next came an equally rehearsed analysis of the recently passed campaign-finance reform and the host’s thoughts on Olympic curling (to the credit of the show, pointing out the inherent ridiculousness of Olympic curling was long overdue). Hot on the heels of Face the Nation is NBC’s “Meet the Press” with Tim Russert. Russert himself seems like a likable enough fellow, but his show is almost as mind-numbing as “Face the Nation.” In fact, aside from a few fancy animated graphics and better guests (Colin Powell instead of Rice), it is hard to distinguish between “Face the Nation” and “Meet the Press” — both cover the same two issues and let the guests’ assertions go largely unquestioned. While not worth waking up at 10:30 a.m., ABC’s “This Week,” starring Sam Donaldson and Cokie Roberts, is a relative tour de force compared to CBS’s and NBC’s shows. While they are both coy about it, there is a subtle sexual tension between Donaldson and Roberts that is as unsettling as it scandalous. What’s more, the show features a more complex format than others: interviews are preceded by news stories and followed up by commentary from Donaldson, Roberts and their obedient sidekicks, columnist George Will and former Clinton sidekick George Stephanopoulos. This week, “This Week” booked Rice, still fresh from her “Face the Nation” gig. While the interview was strikingly similar to “Face the Nation,” it did feature a virtual catfight between Rice and Roberts, eliciting a terse “Let me finish, Cokie” from Rice during one exchange. Rounding out the Sunday morning talk circuit is PBS’s “McLaughlin Group,” which remains relatively fresh despite being first aired Friday night. Known to most college students by the hilarious Saturday Night Live “WRONG!!!” impersonation, John McLaughlin plays the grouchy old host of the show. Although the show is only 30 minutes long, McLaughlin’s impatience has the feel of an old man worrying he won’t make it through the taping. The show features McLaughlin and four co-hosts, three white guys and the requisite woman, played by Newsweek’s Eleanor Clift. Like the other shows, McLaughlin’s group discusses the war and campaign finance before turning to a not-so-enlightened discussion about the new drug, ecstasy (remember, this is PBS). By far the most entertaining part of the show — indeed, of all of Sunday morning talk — is watching the show’s four male hosts completely ignore Clift for the entire 30 minutes. One can almost feel them rolling their eyes off camera. In fact, the highlight of this Sunday morning’s talk shows came during McLaughlin’s discussion of campaign-finance reform. While the points being made were recycled and worn-out, Clift kept shrieking offscreen about the conservatives until McLaughlin relented and asked her opinion. Clift sputtered aloud for a moment before shrieking, “Tony is just a spoiled little boy.” FYI — Tony is about 300 pounds and a writer for The Washington Times. The four guys, including Tony, burst out laughing at Clift, while McLaughlin — who looked like he was in pain — asked Tony to respond. “That’s the first time anyone’s called me little,” Tony observed. The show finished soon after with McLaughlin saying something to the tune of “Tony, I just wanted to compliment you on your suit ? excellent stitching,” (my compliments to the cameraman who caught Tony’s mystified reaction) and McLaughlin calling everyone “WRONG!” but him. Nevertheless, although McLaughlin’s aged arrogance comes off as annoying and rude, it is a refreshing end to Sunday morning’s otherwise lackluster lineup.