Small note on the A-/B-Story thing. I always call the arcing set-up the series story in a pilot the A. No particular reason except that I wanted to set a standard system up for the blog and I knew I could remember A=Arc. Then from there it follows that the mystery/case of the week or the episodic plotline that gets resolved is the B.

In terms of the importance to the episode, it often turns out that the B drives the show, but I go on calling it the B so as not to confuse myself.

I’m easily confused.

The whole point of the piano recital is to show there’s nothing he _can_ do to guarantee he’ll be back in time. His promise becomes a wish. The show teases us with the prospect of him breaking his promise, emphasizing his helplessness, but rather than add yet another downer they let him show up at the end. This tells us that sometimes, he’ll be lucky. It foreshadows that there’s a chance his life might actually work out.

I found the “is he on drugs?” aspect worked well enough (not perfect, but ok) to heighten the drama, because (at the time) Dan is unable to prove them wrong. It’s a wrongful persecution angle. What can he do to redeem himself, when he has so little control or understanding of it? He doesn’t just have to figure out what’s going on — which a pilot with less faith in the audience might be content with — but additionally he needs to prove it’s real to the other people in his life. He’s done everything within his power to be a good person, but the deck is stacked against him. This is answered through his trick with the ring in the toolbox. This shows us that sometimes, he’ll be clever enough to overcome these incredible obstacles. That’s really the A-story of the pilot. It will be interesting to see how that present-day story evolves as the series moves forward.

For me this speaks to the core issue of the writer’s assumption of the intelligence of the viewer, and the willingness of that viewer to handle a more non-directive and ambiguous approach to “story.”

For years the newspaper industry assumed a 9th grade education on the part of its readers, and if you asked editors today, they would probably parrot that old standby.

Not many shows require more attention and a lengthier suspension of disbelief. Aaron Sorkin tends to write that way (and the really quick dialogue he favors also asks more from the viewer), and “Sports Night” and “The West Wing” and “Studio 60″ are now history.

Anyway, this characterization and categorization of the audience is something I never see addressed, yet I think it’s an important underlying assumption in a bunch of the decisions that get made. The next question, of course, is which audience is the better target for advertising? This is a function both of how much money they have, and their openness (sugesstibility) to the advertisers’ pitch.

Well, I’m leaning toward Chuck (despite Zachary Levi’s startling resemblance to Jimmy Fallen…and that’s not a good thing). Journeyman was solid, yet safe. And it feels like I saw it already last year (see: Daybreak)

I timed out Journeyman above but I didn’t time Chuck. Plus, I was watching screeners which might have differences from what aired on tv.

I can’t account for the difference in break length.

I know this doesn’t really relate to any of the questions you posed, but do you offhand have the content running times of Chuck and Journeyman? It sure felt like Chuck had a lot fewer commercials each break.