There are about three main types of TV boss. There’s the ruthless, no nonsense tyrant, laying down the law with the firmest of hands. There’s the pushover, under whose watch minimal work gets done, and whose own boss will make regular visits to dish out a verbal beatdown. Then there’s the genuinely good boss, who knows how to motivate workers and get the best out of everyone. The last one is seen a little less frequently, because that style off bossing is a bit low on conflict and not quite so interesting, but the best TV bosses combine bits of all three styles. A definite goal and a level of competency, but the ability to screw everything up at just the wrong moment.
Five Great TV Bosses…
Al Swearengen, Deadwood (2004 – 2006)
David Milch’s masterpiece DEADWOOD is all about the beginnings of a civilization. Its three seasons chart the progress of a small, violent mining camp, as it evolves into a real town. As with most of Milch’s work, the ensemble is enormous, with dozens of characters playing a part in the town’s development. Chief among these are virtuous lawman Seth Bullock, benevolent widow Alma Garret, and vicious pimp Al Swearengen (Ian McShane), whose murderous ways hide genuine warmth. Deadwood is populated heavily by opportunistic creeps, hungry for the gold that lies in its waters. Al, too, desires bags of riches, but more than this understands the need to build a community and take care of his people. Though in the show’s early days, he seems to be the clear antagonist to Bullock’s gun toting hero, his character evolves and deepens. Witness his attitude towards the widow Garret, who he views first as a throat to slit in order to get some more gold, and later as a vital part of the community, if not quite a friend.
To judge him as an employer, you need simply look at the loyalty he inspires in his two closest underlings. First, there is Trixie, his head prostitute and, perhaps, closest friend. She provides Al with many services, some more explicit than others, but most of all allows us to see him in a sympathetic light. His affection for her is well hidden but clear, and helps to illustrate the complexity of his character. His relationship with right hand man Dan Dority is a little more straightforward: Dan is essentially an unstoppable physical force, who will cause mayhem anywhere Al chooses to deploy him. But their close relationship feels lived-in; it’s abundantly clear that these two have been through the wars together, causing and witnessing acts of horrendous violence. That Dan is still so willing to stand by his boss is a testament to Al’s leadership skills.
Marlo Stanfield, THE WIRE (2002 – 2008)
It kind of goes without saying, but the drug game in West Baltimore is hard and ruthless. Many would-be kingpins have tried to rule the roost, with various degrees of success. From the hotheadedness of OG Avon Barksdale to the refined economics of Stringer Bell, countless streetwise kids have stepped up, only to be found lacking that certain quality that makes a good drug boss. What Marlo Stanfield (Jamie Hector) lacks in human emotion, he makes up for in said lack of human emotion. While Avon and Stringer find themselves distracted by trifling nuisances like family honour and outside interests, Marlo keeps his head down and thinks only about The Game. What makes Marlo such an interesting boss is his motivation, or seeming lack thereof. He doesn’t seem to have much use for money, and his achievements never bring him much joy. His lust is for power, plain and simple. He spent years watching Baltimore’s criminal elder statesmen wearing the crown, and concluded that it would fit better on his own head.
Street level dealers in The Wire are often referred to as ‘soldiers’; the Stanfield operation takes this a few steps further. Marlo’s underlings are put through their paces with tense (but kind of fun looking) paintball exercises, learning how to use the dilapidated territory for cover, and where to aim for a kill shot, depending on whether or not your opponent is wearing body armour. While Avon’s thugs got high on their own supply and took notes during criminal conspiracies, Marlo’s soldiers come up with innovative body disposal methods and codes that even Lester Freamon struggles to crack. With the terrifying team of Snoop and Chris Partlow backing him up, Marlo has his heart set on total domination, followed by a nice trip to Atlantic City as a treat.
Sam Malone, CHEERS (1982 – 1993)
Bar work is tedious, frustrating and unrewarding. The customers will bug you and you’ll be on your feet all day. To top that off, the landlord may well be grumpy, disinterested, even tyrannical. The exception to this rule is Boston’s premier sports bar Cheers, where proprietor and bartender Sam Malone (Ted Danson) will greet you with a warm smile, a beer you can put on a tab, and a loud exclamation of your name (if you’re Norm Peterson) or a relentless attempt at seduction (if you’re an attractive woman). Ex-Red Sox pitcher Sam Malone runs his bar as a place to simply hang out, gripe about life’s little problems, and maybe avoid your wife or your job as a US postal worker. As a boss, Sam is loyal to a flaw, employing his former Coach to work behind the bar, despite plenty of evidence that the man is somewhat brain damaged. His devotion to his business is extraordinary: as a recovering alcoholic, logic would dictate that a bar is the last place he should spend almost all of his time, but his love of Cheers keeps him on the straight and narrow. And as a businessman, he is nothing if not a survivor. Even ill thought out decisions like selling his bar to buy a boat, then crashing said boat, won’t keep him from pouring drinks.
His dedication to both staff and customers is perhaps his most admirable quality. He’s willing to take a chance on vastly unqualified candidates (Diane, Woody, Woody’s dumb girlfriend) and takes care of his employees, allowing Carla a startling number of maternity leaves. His ability to create a friendly atmosphere is second to none: from delusional moron Cliff Clavin to professional egghead Frasier Crane, everyone is welcome to pull up a stool and let time simply slip away.
Roger Sterling, MAD MEN (2007 – )
The world of advertising in the 1960s was cutthroat and relentless. You had to keep up with the client’s needs and the times, which were always a changing. It is for this reason that we have Roger Sterling, always ready to diffuse a tense situation with a wry smile, a wisecrack and a steady intake of martinis. Non-converts decry Matthew Weiner’s MAD MEN as stodgy and pretentious, a beautifully made but shallow and dour melodrama, and an expensive soap opera that is a chore to get through. There is nothing better to puncture this fallacy than John Slattery’s Roger Sterling, whose perfectly deployed pieces of comic relief make him Mad Men’s Paulie Walnuts, though ten times more competent. As well as offering a well of dry wit as bottomless as his vodka supply, he is a genuinely talented ad man. He may be the Sterling of Sterling Cooper through inheritance, but he more than earns his place with his people skills and ability to recognise raw talent. Aside from the incomparable Don Draper, his greatest acquisition is probably fellow accounts man Pete Campell, though the young upstart’s humourless whinging may, at times, be too much for devil-may-care Roger to take.
In a show about a decade of great change for America, Roger is a silver haired throwback, refusing for even one second to do anything other than exactly what he wants. He’s intolerant, crude, and woefully unhealthy, surely sending himself to an early grave with his indulgent lifestyle. But this is fitting for a man like Roger Sterling, whose place in time is rapidly fading away, his role being taken over by the Pete Campbells of the increasingly modern world. But though the new regime may be fitter and well mannered, it won’t look the same in a three piece suit, or be able to wield a put down quite so well as the old guard.
Liz Lemon, 30 ROCK (2006 – )
TV has always been a boys’ club. From the top down, the hiring, firing and big decisions all rest in the hands of men. 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon (Tina Fey) knows this, and has made a strike in the opposite direction with “The Girlie Show”, the abysmal fictional sketch comedy at the heart of the series. So it is a real kick in the teeth for Liz when comedian and loose cannon Tracy Jordan is hired to spruce up the ailing programme, revamping the whole thing into a vanity project and changing the title to “TGS with Tracy Jordan”, reducing the show’s femininity to one initial. But this is why Liz Lemon is (often) such a good boss: she deals with this kind of crippling goonishness every day, and still gets a show on the air. As head writer, she oversees a bunch of knuckleheads, slobs and idiots who couldn’t care less about their work. As showrunner, she puts up with ceaseless requests from the stars, and surreal interruptions from low level employees. As a person, she deals with a constant stream of misfortunes and social horrors. Liz Lemon is tough: life may overwhelm her, but eventually she’ll best it, at least for a while, with a grand gesture or magnificent speech that will leave her less popular than ever, but briefly victorious.
Her mentor, NBC boss Jack Donaghy, is both a help and a hindrance. Though his wisdom is often sound, and his business acumen indisputable, he can only see the world through the eyes of a powerful white male. Jack is Liz’ safety net, ready to deliver a semi-useful rambling speech when necessary, but it is only through Liz’ awesome reserves of stubbornness and spite that she can restore order to her idiotic life.
And one not so good one…
Rebecca Howe, CHEERS (1982 – 1993)
Rebecca Howe, corporate climber and unapologetic suck up, does not belong in the cosy confines of Cheers, your friendly neighbourhood bar. Rebecca sees her managing of Cheers as a chance to prove herself to the company that bought the bar, and, in a larger sense, to show the world that she’s not just some shrill, highly strung screw up. The only drawback is that she is, essentially, incompetent. Not exactly a people person, Rebecca wastes no time in infuriating the patrons and staff of Cheers, making ill thought out changes and irritating the combative Carla. Clearly, it is only a matter of time that this would be socialite comes crashing back down to earth. Luckily for her, by the time she is ousted and normal service resumed, she is just as much a part of Cheers as Woody or Norm. Though she didn’t achieve her dreams, she did find acceptance as part of this loveable crew of losers, and that’s surely just as good.
