Hm ... I have to say that even if there weren't finer points over which to be argued, what happened with TOS' pilots was fairly rare.
What's interesting to me is that, having read Inside Star Trek, it becomes clear that what NBC was asking Desilu to do was actually a big financial gamble. For a while, Desilu weren't sure they'd do it.
At that time, Desilu was intentionally attempting to re-make its image. It had previously been known only as Lucille Ball's studio, making her incredibly successful weekly sit-com.
A show like Star Trek really should have been completely out of their league. No one within the studio had the slightest expertise at anything other than situation comedy: static cameras with even lighting filmed before a live audience.
To their credit, they invented the conventions of the sit-com genre. Before them, no one shot sit-coms the way they did. After them, all sit-coms shot that way. They still all shoot that way.
Desilu invented that, and they had become a well-oiled machine. Lucille Ball's sit-coms had been virtually printing money for the studio for a decade. The people who'd been there from the beginning had become fabulously wealthy doing what they did.
Consequently, there were people inside the studio itself who would have benefited personally should the studio's pilots fail. Consequently, they made hay out of nothing on a frequent basis, stalled when required to do work for the pilots, and produced almost nothing that could be used when they did.
(It's why Wah Chang's brilliant work was used so frequently -- yet they often had to cover up that they were using him. They knew the studio would produce crap, but they couldn't say, "You produce crap, we're going to use this other guy." That would certainly have pissed off Lucy, and she'd been working succussfully with the studio departments for years. She and Desi had built them from nothing, after all.
(So they'd get Wah Chang to work for as little as they could, so that they could hide the expenditures in other parts of the budget.
(They couldn't let this Asian guy be seen coming and going from the studio all the time. This was the 1960s, minorities were noticed. And in any case, Wah Chang had done work for a lot of studios over the years and somebody might know him.
(Then there was the union. As a member of his union, Desilu was contractually obliged to pay at least the union minimum for his work and give him appropriate screen credit. The the Star Trek production couldn't pay him that much, nor give him the level of screen credit he deserved because it would alert someone.
(But Wah Chang wasn't all that hung up about the money: he apparently figured he was getting a good deal from the Trek production, regardless. He also shared that rather legendary Chinese trait of shyness and self-effacement, so the screen credit wasn't as important to him as it might have been. He just loved doing the work and getting paid for it.
(So they arranged to meet Wah Chang at odd places and times to pick up his masterpieces. It was like making a drug buy in a lot of ways.)
And it wasn't just Star Trek: Desilu was producing a battery of pilots that included Mission: Impossible ... don't quote me, but I believe either Cannon or Mannix (two popular detective shows) were also in their battery of pilots that year.
Desilu, at Lucille Ball's direction, was attempting to be taken seriously. All the producers hired were told that this wasn't a joke, that Desilu really wanted to do this. They all worked hard and they generally all ran into stone walls with the old guard.
So here's the pilot season, and a couple are picked up -- not bad, but not amazing, either. But NBC's asked for a second one. And it was by far the most expensive pilot to make.
It was the most expensive production the studio had ever undertaken, in fact. Its production caused studio bean counters to wet their pants every single day that it was filming.
And now NBC wanted another one.
They very nearly didn't do it. If NBC didn't pick it up, they could be out a lot of money. They discussed possibly releasing combined or extended footage from either (or both) as a low-budget feature. They talked about selling it as a movie-of-the-week. They negotiated with NBC to foot more of the bill this time around.
The only financially palatable part was that they could certainly re-use all the sets, costumes, etc., thereby amortizing what had been a horrific single expenditure over two. If they then gave NBC as much direct control over the story as possible, it would also maximize the probability of being picked up.
(That's why Star Trek got sold, by the way. Desilu gave NBC their pick of three very different scripts: "The Omega Glory," "I, Mudd," and "Where No Man Has Gone Before."
(Roddenberry's script was "Omega." He lobbied for it hard. It was and is a crappy script and would never have sold the series. "I, Mudd" was a little risque and might not have sold. Fortunately, NBC chose the most action-oriented one of the three.
(Roddenberry's lobbying for "Omega" damned near got it killed, though. He was ... tenacious.)
In short, they did a lot of financial soul-searching before they decided to green-light it.
That, to me, is the considerably more interesting story: what was going on behind the decisions. Why did this thing happen and not another? Oh, it's because this guy over here had been whispering in Lucy's ear, trying to scare the shit out of her mid-production, to curry favor.
To me, that's the fascinating part of the story.
Dakota Smith
What's interesting to me is that, having read Inside Star Trek, it becomes clear that what NBC was asking Desilu to do was actually a big financial gamble. For a while, Desilu weren't sure they'd do it.
At that time, Desilu was intentionally attempting to re-make its image. It had previously been known only as Lucille Ball's studio, making her incredibly successful weekly sit-com.
A show like Star Trek really should have been completely out of their league. No one within the studio had the slightest expertise at anything other than situation comedy: static cameras with even lighting filmed before a live audience.
To their credit, they invented the conventions of the sit-com genre. Before them, no one shot sit-coms the way they did. After them, all sit-coms shot that way. They still all shoot that way.
Desilu invented that, and they had become a well-oiled machine. Lucille Ball's sit-coms had been virtually printing money for the studio for a decade. The people who'd been there from the beginning had become fabulously wealthy doing what they did.
Consequently, there were people inside the studio itself who would have benefited personally should the studio's pilots fail. Consequently, they made hay out of nothing on a frequent basis, stalled when required to do work for the pilots, and produced almost nothing that could be used when they did.
(It's why Wah Chang's brilliant work was used so frequently -- yet they often had to cover up that they were using him. They knew the studio would produce crap, but they couldn't say, "You produce crap, we're going to use this other guy." That would certainly have pissed off Lucy, and she'd been working succussfully with the studio departments for years. She and Desi had built them from nothing, after all.
(So they'd get Wah Chang to work for as little as they could, so that they could hide the expenditures in other parts of the budget.
(They couldn't let this Asian guy be seen coming and going from the studio all the time. This was the 1960s, minorities were noticed. And in any case, Wah Chang had done work for a lot of studios over the years and somebody might know him.
(Then there was the union. As a member of his union, Desilu was contractually obliged to pay at least the union minimum for his work and give him appropriate screen credit. The the Star Trek production couldn't pay him that much, nor give him the level of screen credit he deserved because it would alert someone.
(But Wah Chang wasn't all that hung up about the money: he apparently figured he was getting a good deal from the Trek production, regardless. He also shared that rather legendary Chinese trait of shyness and self-effacement, so the screen credit wasn't as important to him as it might have been. He just loved doing the work and getting paid for it.
(So they arranged to meet Wah Chang at odd places and times to pick up his masterpieces. It was like making a drug buy in a lot of ways.)
And it wasn't just Star Trek: Desilu was producing a battery of pilots that included Mission: Impossible ... don't quote me, but I believe either Cannon or Mannix (two popular detective shows) were also in their battery of pilots that year.
Desilu, at Lucille Ball's direction, was attempting to be taken seriously. All the producers hired were told that this wasn't a joke, that Desilu really wanted to do this. They all worked hard and they generally all ran into stone walls with the old guard.
So here's the pilot season, and a couple are picked up -- not bad, but not amazing, either. But NBC's asked for a second one. And it was by far the most expensive pilot to make.
It was the most expensive production the studio had ever undertaken, in fact. Its production caused studio bean counters to wet their pants every single day that it was filming.
And now NBC wanted another one.
They very nearly didn't do it. If NBC didn't pick it up, they could be out a lot of money. They discussed possibly releasing combined or extended footage from either (or both) as a low-budget feature. They talked about selling it as a movie-of-the-week. They negotiated with NBC to foot more of the bill this time around.
The only financially palatable part was that they could certainly re-use all the sets, costumes, etc., thereby amortizing what had been a horrific single expenditure over two. If they then gave NBC as much direct control over the story as possible, it would also maximize the probability of being picked up.
(That's why Star Trek got sold, by the way. Desilu gave NBC their pick of three very different scripts: "The Omega Glory," "I, Mudd," and "Where No Man Has Gone Before."
(Roddenberry's script was "Omega." He lobbied for it hard. It was and is a crappy script and would never have sold the series. "I, Mudd" was a little risque and might not have sold. Fortunately, NBC chose the most action-oriented one of the three.
(Roddenberry's lobbying for "Omega" damned near got it killed, though. He was ... tenacious.)
In short, they did a lot of financial soul-searching before they decided to green-light it.
That, to me, is the considerably more interesting story: what was going on behind the decisions. Why did this thing happen and not another? Oh, it's because this guy over here had been whispering in Lucy's ear, trying to scare the shit out of her mid-production, to curry favor.
To me, that's the fascinating part of the story.

Dakota Smith
Last edited: