OK, I'm guessing this will be the last time I will talk about The View. I had forgotten how boring the show was before Rosie O'Donnell joined, but it didn't take long -- about five minutes -- for the show to come crashing down on its first post-Rosie episode. After Barbara Walters gave the official word that O'Donnell was not coming back, the "girls" wasted no time in dishing on -- no, not politics or world events or anything substantive -- but how mean those nasty paparazzi are and how yucky porno is. I thought maybe my distaste for the show was colored by my distaste for guest panelist Whoopi Goldberg, so I tried the second post-Rosie show, only to find the "girls" chatting about whether spouses should have separate or joint checking accounts. These are the "hot topics?" I saw a Golden Girls rerun last night on Lifetime that had more insightful social commentary.

It's unfathomable to me that Barbara Walters would be so quick to let the show evolve back into the dull fest it was before O'Donnell pushed the panel to discuss -- and yes, argue like hell about -- matters of substance. This show is doing down faster than Elisabeth Hasselback's IQ.

What's not going down -- because it could only go up -- is My Network TV's ratings. The network -- which My Madison TV is affiliated with -- recently announced their fall lineup. My Network TV, which failed big with their initial strategy of all telenovelas all the time, thinks it has now found a niche with male-oriented movies, ultimate fighting, and reality. While a couple of their new fall shows sound intriguing -- Jail follows prison inmates from their initial booking to their first moments in the slammer, while Divorce Wars is from Oprah's Harpo Productions and focuses on couples on the brink of splitsville -- one hopes that these shows will be successful enough for the network to try more innovative and edgier (and yes, call me old school, but something with a script) programming.

I'm excited about the new film Knocked Up, and not just because I have a free ticket to see it (thanks to a purchase of the latest 40-Year-Old Virgin DVD). Not only does the film star a great mix of actors from Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared (Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, Martin Starr, Jay Baruchel, Loudon Wainwright) and is written and directed by the great Judd Apatow, but it's getting great early reviews. A Variety write-up challenged moviegoers to come up with a list of ten personal favorite comedies, and then get ready to eliminate one, because Knocked Up was going to earn a spot in anyone's list who sees it.

Made me think of what my favorite movie comedies are. I wouldn't want to include some of my favorites that have very funny scenes, like Say Anything or Broadcast News, but that are ultimately more dramatic than comedic. Also I wouldn't want to include movies that I personally love, like Strange Brew and Bachelor Party, that I can objectively say are just one notch above Porky's in terms of artistic merit. And I still haven't seen Borat, although the DVD has been in my collection from the day it was released.

So, with all that in mind, here are my ten favorite movie comedies in no particular order:

1. This Is Spinal Tap. No doubt the funniest movie I've ever seen.
2. Monty Python's Life of Brian / Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Don't make me choose between them.
3. Kingpin. The funniest Farrelly brothers movie.
4. Airplane! The funniest and raunchiest movie my parents ever took me to.
5. A Fish Called Wanda. The best Python movie that wasn't a Python movie.
6. Love and Death / Bananas. Again, don't make me choose.
7. Modern Romance. So painfully funny. Plus it has Bruno Kirby.
8. The Jerk. Come on, it's funny.
9. Waiting for Guffman. The first and best of the Guest/Levy collaborations.
10. Election. Matthew Broderick's finest hour.
11. Will Knocked Up join the list? Will it join yours? E-mail me at jrobbins@wisctv.com and let me know.

Well, I said I'd be back with more ideas for television and here I am. So let's get to it.

Survivor. I'm not ready to throw in the towel on Survivor, although I do admit that the show's glory days are far behind it. But Survivor has been remarkably resilient the past few seasons, usually following tepid installments with great ones. (In fact, my favorite season -- Survivor: Amazon, immediately followed what is typically agreed to be the worst, Survivor: Thailand.) But even the best of the most recent Survivors don't heat up until after the tribes merge, when the individual teams are forced to stop working together and the game becomes every man (or woman) for him or herself. That's when the backstabbing, cheating, and lying that is at the heart of Survivor really begins. (This was even true as far back as the first Survivor, when the popular Gretchen was the first one voted off -- thanks to the Rudy, Richard, Susan, and Kelly alliance -- post-merge.)

So why not get right to the good stuff immediately? Force the contestants to fend for themselves from day one. I realize this would eliminate one of the reliable sources of tension each season -- that of "when is the merge happening?" "I smell merge!" -- but really, this tension gets ratcheted down each go-round. The excitement of seeing the players on their own from the beginning would more than make up for the loss of the merge shtick.

Don't name dramatic characters after favorite sitcom characters of old. All right, this is sort of a specific one, but out of all of the problems that 24 had this last season (and there were several), the one I had the biggest issue with was the naming of one of its characters "Lisa Miller." Sitcom aficionados will know immediately that "Lisa Miller" was the name of the reporter that Maura Tierney played on NewsRadio, one of the best sitcoms of the nineties. 24's "Lisa Miller" was an aide to the Vice President and was not a comedic character in any way; yet, when she was found to be committing treason and everyone was up in arms about "Lisa Miller" betraying the Vice President, I could only laugh and think of the NewsRadio episode where their "Lisa Miller" got addicted to C-SPAN. It was as jarring as if one of the "Others" on Lost was named "Cosmo Kramer." Note to producers: Do a little research before naming characters; please.

Don't hold back. Take a look at the composite fall schedule. Some big shows are left off. American Idol, 24, The Amazing Race, Law & Order, and Lost, along with some of the most highly-anticipated new series, such as Oprah's Big Give, Swingtown, and The Sarah Connor Chronicles, are all being held back for midseason. While I understand and agree with some of the reasons for delaying the premieres of some shows, it's ridiculous for the networks to hold some of their heaviest hitters in reserve. If you're to believe the numbers, TV needs viewers. Now. Getting the 07/08 season off to a strong start is crucial. A show like American Idol not only helps FOX, but I believe helps network television as a whole -- it shows that the so-called tired old dinosaur that is network television is capable of staging entertainment far more popular, with more of a cultural impact, and yes, with more money-earning potential, than anything on cable or on-line. FOX would be wiser, I believe, to start Idol and 24 in November (when I think the TV season should start anyway) and stretch them out until April or May. Yes, 24 would have to take some weeks off, but a week here or there is not going to result in a major loss of viewers. Especially if the show can pump out a seventh season as good as seasons 4 and 5.

Do a pilot lottery. The NBA just had its draft lottery whereby non-playoff teams are all given a shot at winning the highest picks in the next NBA college draft, with the three worst teams given a significantly better chance of landing the first pick. Imagine the excitement that would surround a similar event if networks were given the chance to "draft" -- i.e., add to their fall schedules -- the best pilots. It would certainly help level the playing field between My Network TV, The CW, and NBC and the current front-runners, ABC, CBS, and FOX as well as add much more general interest and debate to the upfront season. The lottery could be held a couple of weeks before the draft and pundits everywhere could debate on which show the networks with the first three picks should add. Then the pilots could be drafted -- which could also be televised -- with the schedules announced post-draft at the upfronts. By this point, more people would know more about the new shows, which would only serve to build excitement for the new season as people follow the fate of the shows drafted the highest, just as sports fans follow with keen interest which high draft choices will be a boon or bust. Not to mention the other storyline of which underdog low picks would perform surprisingly well. I don't know, maybe I cross my interest in sports with my interest in TV too much (or I confuse my sports blog with my entertainment blog), but I think this would work.

Try something different but not necessarily new on Saturdays. Everybody knows that networks have given up on trying new programming on Saturdays -- too expensive to reach the small audience available on that night, they say. But why not put a little creativity into the repurposing? Why not take that week's run of Letterman, Leno, O'Brien, Kimmel, and Ferguson's shows, edit them into a tight hour each of highlights, and run them in prime on Saturday? It would give people who go to bed early a chance to catch up, give some of these hosts a deserved shot in primetime (OK, Kimmel doesn't really deserve it), and certainly be a lot fresher and more exciting than endless CSI and movie repeats. Heck, ABC could even try it with The View, although once Rosie O'Donnell leaves and her epic battles with Elisabeth Hasselbeck stop, it might be tough to get an hour's worth of highlights together each week.

This is an exciting time of year for anyone who works in network television, for any company that buys advertising time on network television, or for anyone who watches network television. So -- even if you believe in the recent numbers showing the dwindling audience for network primetime television -- I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it's an exciting time of year for a lot of people.

Yes, it's upfront week, when networks unveil their fall primetime schedules. It's the best of times for the actors and producers who hear the news that their shows will soon be beamed into living rooms across the nation. It's the worst of times for the actors and producers who hear the news that their shows have been ignored or cancelled. And it's the worst of times for fans of shows that get the ax, as they promise never again to watch [insert network that cancelled favorite show here].

Actually, these fall lineup announcements have become both less surprising and more confusing in recent years. More confusing because networks -- knowing that most new shows unveiled in the fall are doomed to fail -- are holding more and more series for midseason while also delaying some decisions on other shows. For example, many returning series, such as Lost, 24, The Amazing Race, and The New Adventures of Old Christine, aren't likely to be scheduled until early 2008. (At least Scrubs has been granted a place in the fall lineup for a change.) Also, no one seems ready to declare shows such as According to Jim and The Apprentice officially dead. (Why either of those two shows should have survived past the pilot is beyond me.) And the announcements are in many ways less surprising because of the networks' propensity for cancelling shows so early in the season: Was anyone stunned to see The Nine or Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, two shows that have been off the air for months, not on the fall schedules?

I'll have more to say about the lineups soon, but for now, in the spirit of looking ahead to fall, here are my ideas that, if implemented, would undoubtedly help primetime network television to not only survive, but thrive.

Sports has a preseason. Why not network television? Consider the NFL -- the gold standard of professional sports leagues. They have a preseason which is largely used by coaches to consider which rookie players will earn a spot on the roster. How about a TV preseason which could be used by networks to consider which new programs will earn a spot on the fall schedule? Here's how I see it: The networks agree that for the first four weeks of the season, they will refrain from airing new episodes of any established series, agreeing only to run new shows, reruns of returning shows, and other special programming such as sports. This way premiering shows can air without having to go against shows with a built-in fan base. Then networks can evaluate which new shows have a chance to succeed against the stiffer competition of new episodes of established programming, and which shows don't have a prayer.

Shorten the season. A full season of most shows consists of 22-24 episodes that need to be stretched out over a period of 39 weeks. In the past, those new episodes were combined with reruns, usually in the non-sweeps periods of December-January and March-April, to fill out the season, while the recent trend has been to pull shows -- particularly serialized programs like CBS's Jericho and ABC's Lost -- off the schedule for several weeks and replace them with other original programming, thereby cutting down the number of reruns. I applaud this trend, but unfortunately, it hasn't worked: The hot-starting Jericho cooled after its hiatus so much that CBS canceled it this week, and Lost suffered such a steep decline in ratings after being split into two seasons that ABC has already announced that in the future the show will be held back until all episodes can air in consecutive weeks.

Given that other gimmicks haven't worked, the regular season should be shortened to November-April to accomodate most shows' output of 22-24 episodes. Seems like a no-brainer to me: Most shows begin in mid-late September, but the pleasant weather that time of year limits the amount of TV watching. And the month of October could be used for the "preseason" idea I outlined above, meaning that the summer "rerun" season would only be extended by perhaps two weeks, two weeks where people are still spending a lot of time outdoors. Meanwhile, moving up the end of the season from May to April corresponds nicely with the moving up of Daylight Savings Time from late April to early March, which has already proven to have a negative impact on TV ratings. Think of it -- no more worrying about reruns or mid-season hiatuses: Networks would start a show in November and -- except for say a two-week break around the holidays which has been a time of year for reruns for practically forever anyway -- shows run straight through. (Except shows that are cancelled, of course.) Would do wonders for retaining viewers.

Don't ask for more episodes. NBC has already placed increased orders for two of their best series, The Office and My Name is Earl, for next season. Why mess with a good thing, NBC? While more episodes per season seems like good news for fans, it seems inevitable that the added demands on these shows' staffs -- particularly the writing staffs -- will result in a decline in overall quality, which will only hurt viewership. One reason HBO series like The Sopranos and Curb Your Enthusiasm have been so strong creatively is because HBO doesn't demand 22 episodes of them each season. I'm not saying that the producers of How I Met Your Mother should be allowed to limit production of their series to a Curb-like 10 episodes every two years, but nor should they be forced to match the output of quickie game shows like Deal or No Deal.

I'll be back with ideas for specific shows. Whew, it's tough work saving network television!

There has been much talk lately about the declining ratings for network television. According to Nielsen Media Research, about 2.5 million fewer people are now watching ABC, CBS, NBC, and FOX than last year at this time. (What, My Network TV doesn't get any love?)

In a word, duh.

In my life I have two main interests -- television and soda. So let me try to draw an analogy between the two: Say the only way to acquire yummy soda was in cans. Lots of people, like me, would be buying lots of lots of cans of yummy soda. But then if all of a sudden newer ways of acquiring yummy soda were introduced -- like soda bottles, soda IVs, faucets that you could install in your homes that would dispense yummy soda instead of that boring water -- I and lots of other people would likely buy less cans of soda. Wouldn't mean that soda was any less popular; in fact, with the varieties of acquiring it, soda might enjoy its greatest popularity ever. But sales of cans would likely suffer.

That is what is happening with TV. I don't buy that people are acquiring and enjoying less yummy television programming -- indeed it's likely just the opposite -- it's just that some people are taking advantage of other methods of enjoying said programming. Note that I said "some," as the numbers point to about a 6% drop in overall network viewership. It's not like network viewership has dropped off the face of the earth.

So the question is not -- as was recently posted in a widely-distributed AP article -- "Where have all the viewers gone?" but rather "Who loses as primetime ratings decline?" Well, until people way smarter than me can figure out a way of somewhat accurately measuring viewership across platforms, basically TV viewers are the ones to pay the price as numbers shrink. Networks will continue to cite declining viewership as a reason to cut production costs and devote greater portions of their schedule to cheap reality-based shows of limited quality. (I still remember when Saturday was a legitimate night of programming, although we're years removed from the days when CBS owned the night with the staggeringly good lineup of All in the Family, MASH, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Bob Newhart Show, and The Carol Burnett Show.)

So what can be done to save network primetime programming? Lots of things:

DVRs are here to stay. So DVR usage needs to be measured more accurately. Why only count DVR usage in ratings of a show if the program was watched within 24 hours of the original air time? Why not give viewers a week to catch up? The beauty of the DVR is that the user can watch the recorded program anytime -- there's no pressure to watch programs that day. Now certainly some ads (e.g., for movies) are time sensitive, but McDonalds shouldn't care if you see their ad on Friday or the following Wednesday, so expanding the DVR timeframe should provide for a more precise measurement of viewers and thereby allow networks to charge for the time more accurately.

Networks should cease providing complete downloadable episodes of their programs on their respective Web sites. This perhaps seems like closed-minded, backward thinking, but to me this experiment has been a failure. All signs indicate that on-line viewing hasn't served to draw people to the television broadcasts, but has made the broadcast version less valuable. You can't give people a choice of steak or fish and then complain that not as many people are eating the steak. Complete on-line episodes should be replaced with related material of value for fans that can be sponsored. In many cases this is already being done, but often in tandem with the complete episode. Now if the networks are happy with on-line viewership, then they need to come out and say so: "Hey, we're fine with the numbers on Lost. Especially considering how many people watched our on-line presentation with limited commercial interruption sponsored by American Express." But they're not saying that.

Networks should stop releasing current shows on DVD. This is a biggie. I haven't seen DVD availability as a reason for declining viewership, but it exists and it is not a minor factor. Consider a serial program like Lost or 24 that tends to have die-hard, somewhat geeky fans. Many of those fans have decided they'd rather wait for the DVD release and then watch the episodes unfold over a period of days rather than months, along with the inevitable helping of commentaries, deleted scenes, and interview footage that is commonplace on most releases. This isn't likely to happen, as studios (which nowadays are almost always tied to the network that airs the program) profit heavily from selling current shows on DVD -- even a marginally successful program like My Name Is Earl has sold a whopping 330,000 copies of its first season on DVD. There's no doubt that DVDs are eating into primetime viewership.

Networks should stop broadcasting crap. This seems obvious, but the answer to lower ratings is not to give up and run endless hours of Deal or No Deal or Supernanny. Sure that's cheap, but it's hurting the business big-picture. Not to mention you can't turn around and sell that stuff in syndication, so in the long run it hurts your bottom line too.

Give the older viewers something to watch on Fridays and Saturdays. Isn't part of doing business knowing your audience? Fine, I'll buy the argument that younger viewers aren't around on the weekend. But the population is getting older and that older population is less inclined not only to go out but also to download TV shows from iTunes. Why not target older, dedicated TV viewers on Saturday night and run something along the lines of -- I can' believe I'm about to print this -- Diagnosis Murder or Touched By An Angel? It might not be hip stuff, but Tom Kruse from The Scooter Store and countless other advertisers would line up to buy time in shows directed at that crowd.

I've gone on long enough. But I love television and it's getting a bad rap lately. People should be reminded that it's still the biggest game in town and any company would kill for its Web site to garner the attention of even the lowest-rated primetime program. The irony is that in many cases network television is being weakened by the very people that should be working to make it stronger.

Man, I'm thirsty. That home soda faucet was actually a pretty good idea, wasn't it . . . I've got to work on that . . .

It used to be that Memorial Day weekend doubled not only as the unofficial first weekend of summer but also the start of the blockbuster summer movie season. But for the last few years, the summer movie season has expanded as studios try to get the jump on other films -- Star Wars Episode III came out on May 19 two years ago; Mission Impossible III bowed on May 5 last year, and now Spiderman 3 bests that by a day by being released on May 4, 2007.

Now I love summer, but I don't love it as much as I used to. I still love the weather, but my dad's battles with skin cancer have made me think twice about spending long hours outdoors. Plus, once you buy a house, summer means mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, and numerous other "projects." Not to mention high air conditioning bills. And as I get older, I'm less and less stoked about exposing more of my skin -- don't get me wrong, I still "got it." I just don't "got it" as much as I used to. You know, back when Whitesnake and Poison were cranking out the hits.

But perhaps the biggest reason I now find myself bummed about the commencement of summer is that it means the end of the traditional TV season and the beginning of the aforementioned summer movie season. Nothing to me underscores the current and ever-increasing quality domination of TV over movies more than this annual May transition.

[Yes, I know that summer is not entirely the rerun wasteland it used to be; it's now -- with the exception of some cable series, like TNT's The Closer, Showtime's Weeds, and FX's Rescue Me -- more of a reality wasteland. You still have to look a lot harder to find quality original programming in July than in November.]

Don't believe that TV is better than movies? Let's see: In the first half of May, TV viewers who seek drama or action will be treated to the season finales of acclaimed shows like Heroes, 24, Law & Order, Grey's Anatomy, Lost, 24, CSI, and House, not to mention the continuation of the final season of The Sopranos. (Even those who would argue that the current seasons of Lost and 24 are below-par could not deny the fact that they are still very frequently riveting.) Action and drama fans heading to the multiplex this summer will be treated to tired sequels like Spiderman 3, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, Ocean's Thirteen, and Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. (Who out there demanded a Fantastic Four sequel? Can a Hudson Hawk sequel be far behind?)

The comedy disparity is even greater: Even though the sitcom has been declared "dead" for several years, the 30-minute format is much more alive than the comedic film: TV currently gives us The Office, 30 Rock, Scrubs, My Name Is Earl, How I Met Your Mother, and The New Adventures of Old Christine. The big comedy movie of summer 2007? The TV spinoff The Simpsons Movie, which probably won't be as good as most of its small-screen episodes.

Why has TV long been better than movies? There are several reasons, but for me the important ones have to do with writing and character development. A two-hour film simply isn't able to develop a character as richly and intricately as a long-running series can; that's why Tony Soprano has supplanted Michael Corleone as the poster child for sympathetic, conflicted mobsters. And while movie studios increasingly concentrate on big-budget action blockbusters that use as little dialogue as possible in order to more easily penetrate non-English speaking markets, TV network executives know that programs usually live or die based on the likability of the actors and the quality of the writing.

So as TV winds down and movies gear up, it's not surprising that I get a little depressed, even as I welcome the warmer weather. Thank goodness for baseball and swimming outdoors, otherwise I might not be able to make it to September. Oh, and I must admit to being a huge Big Brother fan -- see, even TV knows how to deliver the guilty pleasure goods better than movies.

I'm kinda bummed that Rosie's leaving The View. Even though I believe that she goes overboard quite a bit -- OK, we get it, you're against the Iraq War -- and she has an uncomfortable tendency of making Elisabeth Hasselbeck look like a fool -- even more of a fool than Hasselbeck makes herself look -- O'Donnell really has made The View, and specifically the "Hot Topics" segments, fascinating television.

Before O'Donnell, The "Hot Topics" segments of The View tended to drift toward tired daily variations of "did you watch [insert name of reality show here] last night?" or "did you see this quiz in Cosmo?" But O'Donnell came in and very quickly transformed the segments into some of the most opinionated, thoughtful, and yes, funny, current events discussions I've ever seen on television, and certainly on network daytime television. And O'Donnell's bracing brand of honest discussion became contagious: Viewers found out more about Barbara Walters's opinions than ever before, while Joy Behar was clearly inspired and liberated by O'Donnell's presence, hilariously fulfilling her role as the show's "comedian" as never before. As for Hasselbeck, well, I commend her for attempting to verbally spar with O'Donnell, but she simply doesn't have the chops. (Plus, she censors Babar when she reads it to her kids. Babar? The Elephant? Are you kidding me?)

One wonders if Rosie knows how much better The View format was for her than her old talk show or whatever new solo talk show she will probably be hosting within the next year. On a solo talk show, if she were to come out and pontificate about the torture of military prisoners or the conditions at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, it would come off as dull lecturing. Likewise, she won't be able to blindside guests with political discussions without seeing it backfire against her, as the Tom Selleck gun control line of questioning did on her last show. When you're the solo host, viewers expect a amiable discussion; with a group dynamic, one host can ask something a little more pointed while another host can take the edge off. As much as I surprisingly liked Rosie O'Donnell on The View, I probably wouldn't bother with her new show (assuming she lands one), but I will probably still check in on The View. But not as often. Rosie needed The View more than The View needed her, but neither will be as interesting without the other.

In other daytime television news this week, Regis is back after recovering from bypass surgery. I would say that after David Letterman, Regis Philbin is the best broadcaster out there. He's a little too showbizzy for me -- those tales of concert dates with Susan Lucci or his wife are painful, and he tries a little too hard to look like he's aware of the music the kids are listening to -- but he's often hysterically cranky. And his presence keeps Kelly Ripa's husband off the air, which is always a positive.

Oh, and this Alec Baldwin thing. I can't believe people are so pissed at Alec Baldwin. Obviously he shouldn't have called his daughter a "pig." But it's clearly misplaced anger (and Baldwin has a history of anger issues, recall his blowup with a driver of horse-drawn carriages of a few years back) toward his ex-wife, who is largely at fault here for obviously being the one to release the voice mail message to the media, a privacy violation much more damaging to the daughter than the original phone message. And I would encourage those who would single out Baldwin as some sort of uniquely horrific parent to go to any Wal-Mart in any city in this country: You will see and hear children being treated far worse. Maybe I have a soft spot for Baldwin because he is so damn good on 30 Rock and he has been so damn good so many times before in so many various projects. I hope that he will stay with 30 Rock and still have time to publicize the issue of parental alienation when he's on hiatus. Besides, doesn't he need to work to support his brothers?