To the fantastic fans of Kings --

The incredible response to Kings on Hulu, iTunes and other alternative outlets has been outstanding and humbling. The airing of our final episode seemed the right occasion to thank those who have come to check us out, and to answer some of the questions/guesses/misconceptions prevalent on the message boards.

In no particular order:

-- Yes, the show is canceled. Definitively. Has been for some time. The sets taken down, the writers and actors have all disbanded and moved on. I'm told CBS's promising new series, "The Good Wife," has taken over our old offices.

-- Kings was originally picked up for 13 hours of content, 12 episodes with the two-hour pilot. It was not a mini-series, but a full series with a full series' ambitions to last for much longer.

-- The show had completed its filming entirely before the airing of the pilot. No creative choices were made to the scripts based on ratings. We crafted the season to be a full "chapter" in the book of David and Silas's lives, to make it the best possible season we could, sparing nothing. After our disappointing premiere, some editing choices were made to the finale to eliminate a few moments that created more intrigue that we would not be able to pursue. Some of those scenes will be put on the DVD, scheduled for release this September.

-- To those who thought Saturday nights was a terrible time slot, you are correct. That move was the first step of cancellation. Once that decision was made, no attempts would be made to "save" or promote the show in any way. It was already over then.

-- The reasons for its cancellation were nothing more than the low ratings.

-- Some have speculated that the cost of the show was prohibitive. While it is true that the episode budget was high for a first season show, that number was reduced by the outstanding aggregate 30% tax benefit New York provided (which we all hope will remain in effect), thus bringing the cost down to rates comparable to other prime time dramas. And, of course, plans were already made to bring the costs down to whatever number the studio required of us in the future.

-- The network had no negative reaction at any stage to religious content within the show. In fact, they encouraged it and found it hopeful.

-- It was only when time came to market the show that a decision was made not to promote the show as a biblically inspired tale. Fear of reprisal from the religious audience was the described cause. Something NBC has had bad experiences with before. As such, any references to "King David" were actively avoided, in favor of the limited marketing campaign that many of you saw and have commented on with derision.

-- Some of that promotion gave the misleading impression that the nation of Gilboa was somehow tied to American history. This was never part of the show's premise or execution in any way.

-- There was no "religious agenda" among the writers. The writing staff was deliberately comprised of a diverse group of geniuses. Including believers and non-believers, lapsed and actives, people who are atheist, Jewish, Christian, Muslim. All had done their homework. All their perspectives were invaluable.

-- Most religious viewers actually quite liked the show. Understanding that our creative task was not transcription.

* * * *

This has already gotten to be a much longer note than I intended. I suppose I'm indulging myself because it is difficult to say goodbye to the people -- real and imagined -- I came to love in making Kings. But it's time.

The outcome of Kings was heartbreaking to all of us who worked so hard and had such a wonderful time making it. Every moment on screen represents stories, conversations, arguments, decisions by dozens -- hundreds -- of blazingly talented, always impassioned people.

It was a difficult show to make. We had to fight for every choice, so we thought each one through.

Many involved with the show felt wronged by our network, or at least scuttled. I personally don't feel I have enough information to know precisely what led to our failure to achieve ratings success -- though I believe that had the show been given a better launch, the outcome would have been something to celebrate.

Your interest in show here is, to me, evidence enough of this. (As an interesting aside, Kings was #1 on iTunes on the day we were cancelled.)

Even if it is tempting to trash NBC, we do owe them gratitude. Writing, acting, filming is about the work, not the reward, and NBC allowed us to make the best possible show we could. They let us film in New York. They let us assemble a cast without equal on the network landscape. A group of actors who came ready every day to spin the broken-meter mouthfuls we wrote for them into song. Ian McShane, Chris Egan, Susanna Thompson, Sebastian Stan, Allison Miller, Dylan Baker, Eamonn Walker, Marlyne Afflack, Becky Ann Baker... Every one of them suffered long hours, cold nights, and still came prepared, passionate, elevating every piece of material put to them. They made us look better than we deserve.

On our first day of working together I told my writing staff that we'd been outfitted with a set of golden Legos, and it falls to us to build. They sat down and built a whole country... with an eye on building a world.

Creatively, we worked closely and well and without controversy with our network and studio, through several regimes.

We had the privilege of working with our biggest fan of all, the incomparably warm, kind, thoughtful, and missed Nora O'Brien.

The fans we have are the greatest I've ever seen, willing to play along with our most arcane of games and follow our meagerest breadcrumb trail.

We thank you all for your time, and hope we honored your attention.

Last thing:
Some have asked, what can they do to "Save the show." We are, sadly, well past that point.

If there is anything to do at all, it's to find your voice and let the networks know that if they covet your attention at all -- and yes yes yes they do -- they can have it by programming and standing by shows with substance.

Write a letter. Mail it to any network. Stick a butterfly on the envelope if you'd like.

We'd be honored.

Michael Green
Creator, Kings
Sunday, July 26, 2009

While shooting my KINGS episode, the first part of our two-part finale, something rather odd happened on the fourth day.

I'm totally new to the world of television. This is the first episode I've written for any show, so the whole experience has been a fast-moving education. But pretty quickly, I learned some of the rules of set. The phrases "checking the gate," and "moving on" tend to make everyone happy. However, lunch delays tend to have the opposite effect. Nothing too shocking about that. And, as one might expect, time is always a pressing issue, because there never seems to be enough of it. So, understandably, the crew of approximately a hundred people give or take a few, is more often than not, under tremendous stress and suffering from sleep deprivation.

Back to that interesting fourth day of shooting. We'd had a morning of exterior scenes--quick moving scenes without dialogue, but of course, these things always take time and in this case, it was about four hours--so we were all relieved to finish the day indoors. Did I mention this was the last day of January and we were shooting near Battery Park? Yes. We were cold indeed. So we moved inside and it was a good hour before we realized that the building we moved to was barely heated. But it was a still an improvement.

Early in the afternoon, we filmed a particularly intense scene. Princess Michelle is mourning a great loss and being comforted by Paul Lash--a man in love with her despite her inability to reciprocate the sentiment. During this difficult scene, which was performed beautifully by Allison Miller and Michael Stahl-David . . . a panda bear walked on set. No, not an escapee from the Bronx Zoo, a human in a giant panda suit. Fortunately he wasn't close to the cameras and we were between takes when he made his entrance (now that I think about it, he had impressive instincts), but the best part was the reaction of everyone who witnessed this occurrence. Stressed-out crew members, stand-ins, guests, actors--everyone laughed! I still have no idea where the bear came from or why he decided to show up at that moment on our set. It seemed to be a random little message from out of nowhere reminding us all to lighten up! And after that, we all certainly did.

I take the subway to and from work. The G Train, for those familiar with the worst train in New York City. Plenty o' time waiting for the rickety ole G(hetto) train... which I truly love to hate. I usually stand on the platform and either read something that Michael Green forced on me or zone out and brainstorm ideas for the show. At the time in question, the books were either Arthur Miller's All My Sons or Tom Stoppard's Arcadia... recommended because they're both about uncovering certain ugly truths and character assassination... concepts that were particularly relevant to the Kings episode ("Javelin") I was scripting at the time. Inspiration is as important as any other component in the writing process, in my opinion. At any rate, with no train in site, I pulled out my book, leaned against a pillar, and prepared to pass the time before my beloved train arrived... then I noticed something. Plastered on the subway wall behind me was a KINGS POSTER!

Now, for anyone who has been fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to see something they've worked on displayed in public, it's definitely a charge. An instant validation of sorts. You've suddenly become part of something legit, something recognized, something that's real... and fairly well-promoted ... that's another subject altogether. The show really was make believe, an imaginary production... all made real in a moment.

Needless to say, I found just about as much inspiration in that single image -- a poster in a New York City subway platform -- as I did the works of Miller or Stoppard. It inspired me. Gave me a sense of responsibility, hell, maybe even pride, in telling the greatest story I could. "Javelin" is essentially a courtroom drama. Regardless of how familiar the premise, I was now determined to make it different. Try to find a new angle. Bring something shocking to the proceedings. In part, because of that poster.

Then a funny thing happened. I was in the midst of rewrites right before the episode went into production. This is probably the most difficult time for a writer. It's when your work is challenged and scrutinized. All your labor is questioned. Thankfully, Kings is full of folks -- from Lindsay Gelfand, the Writers' Assistant, to Clark Johnson, the director of my episode -- who all elevate the material. But during this process, I found myself back on that subway platform. I turned to face the poster. My source of inspiration. Something had changed. It had been torn and tagged and was a victim of Gotham vandals. Some of the... additions might not have been suitable for children. But somehow, not only was defacing the heroic image of our show's lead character in a way echoing the premise of an episode about character assassination, it was humbling. It wasn't insulting... it was an honor. It bridged the divide between make believe and the practicality of television production. I was witness to the show's baptism by New York's finest defamers. It was the public acknowledging that the show existed. It dawned on me in that new moment, that the process wasn't just about the writer, the production office, or the studio and network... it was about the audience. We were all connected to it now. And it was real. No matter what, we had made it.

-Seamus Kevin Fahey

You don't have to be a calligrapher to know that this moment on set does not suggest ideal conditions for "beautiful writing," as the word calligraphy denotes in its original Greek. But the episode, "Chapter One," called for a bona fide scribe in the traditional sense -- nibs and ink as compared to laptops and Final Draft -- and though the finished product's onscreen appearance is brief (to be more specific here would spoil the plot), you will see for yourself how beautiful it turned out despite the conditions that require this kind of contortion on the part of the artist. Thank you, Christopher Calderhead.

Thank you as well to the Camera Department who have forced him into this difficult position. For it's not like they don't endure a constant barrage of compromising conditions in which to manage their own craft. The seventeen-degree day at Fort Tilden in Staten Island comes to mind, where we filmed David's arrival by motorcycle at a remote gas station. It's one thing for the rest of us wearing gloves on set to stay focused in that numbing kind of cold; for the 1st A.C. to operate the focus function with bare fingers on a moving camera, it's another.

Then there are the actors, who have to make it seem that none of these external factors, let alone their internal ones, are pressing in on any given performance. The next time you watch Ian McShane striding through Unity Hall in all his kingly glory, consider that it was shot in the wee hours of a Friday night that gave way to Saturday morning, the time slot allotted to us by the New York Public Library.

And his regal appearance whatever the hour has just as much to do with the Costume Department running back and forth to the wardrobe truck all night long to make sure it is so; or the Hair and Make-Up Department tending at all times to every bit of continuity.

The entropic nature of production never bodes well for beautiful writing, or shooting, or acting, or lighting, or rigging, or editing, or catering, or you name it. But as a member of the "Kings" community, I saw people make do to make it happen again and again.

I hate the master shot. This is the first thing we shoot for every scene. Typically this is a wide shot that establishes where we are and who is in the scene. And typically they are boring as hell. You're too far away from the actor's faces to get any real emotion. The actors usually don't even know their lines and use this shot as a much needed rehearsal. They are practically unusable for anything other than the opening and if you're desperate the end of the scene. I hate the master shot.

Then I worked on Kings. First off, not only do the actors on Kings know their lines but they frequently rehearse privately before they arrive on set.
And then I worked with Ed Bianchi, who directed "Pilgrimage." I found his masters to be things of beauty. Each of Ed's masters tells the entire story of the scene. By the way the actors are framed. By how the camera finds them. I remember thinking we could have editing the entire show with no other shots than these artful masters. I have two favorites. The first is David and Silas eating lunch out in the field. They sit together on opposite sides of a bench with their lunch between them. The rustic forest behind them. As beautiful a shot I have ever seen. And it captures the beauty and innocence of their relationship before it is forever destroyed. My other favorite is the scene between Michelle and Rose late in the show. Rose sits at her vanity table and Michelle joins her pleading for help. And the entire scene is played in the mirror from Rose's point of view. Two and a half minutes. One take. Suzanna Thompson at her most glorious.

Now I love the master. But only if Ed is directing.

To be a member of a production crew is to be part of a special community. From gaffers to makeup artists, to the production assistant who who runs a million errands every hour, film crews consist of talented people who shape every TV or movie project with their love. Love for the show, love for the process, love for the people who come together to make magic on the screen. It takes that kind of pure, almost childlike, love to come in every day and perform difficult tasks that are often taken for granted, but without which the entire process of creating a movie or TV show grinds to a complete halt.

On Episode 107, I truly witnessed the dedication and commitment of the KINGS crew. Much of the episode was shot in a wooded area of Long Island, where we filmed the action sequences for David and Jack's commando mission inside Gath. Setting up lighting and equipment in the middle of a remote forest was already a challenge. But as temperatures fell below zero and icy rain came down in torrents, the crew was pushed to the point of exhaustion. And yet I heard no complaints. Even as we huddled together at 3 AM, gripping hand warmers to fight off the miserable cold, people were laughing and joking. They loved the show and loved being part of something special. The old adage about the postman, that "neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail" will keep them from their appointed rounds applies doubly so for crew members. And it was literally true during the filming of Episode 107, when all of the elements above were unleashed.

Before I became a screenwriter, I never truly understood the importance of the crew to the filmmaking process. Like most people, I would get up and leave during the end credits of a movie, not knowing or caring who the "best boy" was. But now I stay and watch the credits roll, thanking in my heart the countless souls who toil away without fame or fortune to create the magic of Hollywood.

To the crew of KINGS, I say again thank you. Without you, there would only be a blank screen.

-Kamran Pasha

I have known Clark Johnson for many years, since the "Homicide: Life on the Street" days, when I was a lowly story editor (the best job for a writer in tv, ever, hands down) and he was a lowly actor. We tormented each other over the seasons. I didn't always appreciate his creative ad-libs. And he didn't always appreciate my not appreciating. In between writing, set coverage, and drinking heavily on Baltimore's Thames Street, I managed to get promoted to producer. Clark tried his hand at directing. New opportunites for driving each other crazy.

Fast forward several years to New York City, the set of "Kings." Clark had just arrived in town to direct my first episode, entitled "Judgment Day." The first thing he complained about was "that pig." In an episode depicting Solomon-like decisions by King Silas, from day one of breaking the story, I was convinced what the episode needed was a pig. Clark was convinced it was all about torturing him.

Which seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. What I had originally envisioned as a harmless, small-ish sized pig, quickly morphed into a four hundred pound hog. The Prop Guy (in charge of obtaining livestock, apparently, who knew) and everyone else with a conscience on our production team cursed my name. And rightly so. If you've every worked with a four hundred pound hog, never believe anyone who says they are trained. Four hundred pound hogs do what THEY want to do. Not what the trainer, the producer, the director, or the show runner want them to do. And if said hog decides to keep two hundred crew people and extras waiting while they think about their motivation, they do. If they decide they don't want to step hoof onto the set at all (after an elaborate lift/ramp rig has been constructed because pigs don't walk up stairs, apparently) they don't go. They keep everyone waiting. They let the clock roll out at many, many dollars per minute. They cause first ad's and line producers to get ulcers. Because a four hundred pound hog answers to no one.

Which is how we ended up with a hog (who after copiously relieving himself in the pristine lobby, slipped, fell and panicked) running wild through the hallways of the New York Public Library (our set for Unity Hall), pulling the trainer behind him, on a leash, like the poor guy was waterskiing on marble, sending crew members, actors, and lots of expensive equipment scattering in his wake.

And Clark just yelled: "Keep rolling. For God's sakes, keep the cameras rolling."

Which is what you do in TV. If the writer is enough of an idiot to insist on a pig in the show, the least you can do is keep rolling.

My last several TV shows were all shot in LA. I love LA too, mostly cuz you don't have to wear thermal underwear on location. But that aside, you can't beat the visual scale and grandeur of New York. Sure, I've written "globe-trotting" TV dramas where spies travel to exotic locales, but it's usually cheated with back-lots, green screens and visual effects.

KINGS has some VFX, as we change the skyline and backdrop of New York to create the Kingdom of Gilboa and its capital, Shiloh. But location VFX only gets you so far before it looks cheesy. New York has so much to shoot, so many breathtaking locations, that it lends KINGS a majesty that would be impossible to reproduce on the left coast. (Kudos to the hard work of our Production Designer Kalina Ivanov, Location Manager Paul Kramer and their crews, who slave long hours to find and prepare those great locations that bring pain-in-the-butt writers' visions to life.)

Heck, in my episode alone ("Insurrection") we shot scenes that would have been budget-bustingly impossible on any other TV show I've ever worked on: Ian McShane fly fishing in a river, with the leaves changing around him as a dam gushes water over his shoulder? Thanks to our talented and adventurous crew, who waded out with equipment to get the perfect camera position, and Ian, who braved frigid temperatures and slippery rocks to perform the scene so convincingly, it looks like a scene out of "A River Runs Through It."

Then there's the scene with two brothers strolling through a corn-field that's ready to harvest. (We actually found a corn field that was ready to harvest... in October!) A riot scene with hundreds of extras battling police set against a bustling shipyard. A scene at a working TV studio overlooking a busy midtown avenue, another in a spectacular modern church. And countless other scenes filmed against the backdrop of grand marble corridors and halls of some of New York's landmark buildings.

Yeah, KINGS ain't your standard "talking-heads-in-a-hospital-corridor/law-office/cop-precinct" TV fare.

To be honest, when my friend (and "JACK & BOBBY" co-writer) Michael Green told me two and a half years ago that he wanted to create a show of this scale, a show that would tell the sweeping epic story of King David's rise, I had my doubts that any TV executives would have the guts to do it. When Michael added that he wanted a battle scene in the pilot, with tanks, I laughed. And when he said he wanted to write a drama that wouldn't "talk down" to audiences in the way that most TV shows do, but would instead respect the audience's intelligence? That's when I started to worry that Michael was on crack.

But boy am I glad now that I signed on for this adventure. We took a chance, we kept the faith and thanks to the hard work of an army of talented people, and the
support of some unusually courageous television executives, KINGS is on the air.

As I write this, we have yet to air the pilot. If you're reading this, hopefully you're watching. But do me a favor, wouldya? Ask your friends to watch too? Cuz I LOVE shooting in New York.

Erik Oleson is a Supervising Producer/Writer on "Kings."

The commenting functionality has been fixed, so feel free to leave your feedback on any blog posts!

We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

He is not an assistant or scheduler or policy pusher -- Silas has plenty of those... Perry, for his profession, stands politely behind and to the King's left and meticulously scribbles down all he sees and hears.

His official title is Court Historian.

When we were given the opportunity to design a website where "we" -- the writers, producers, directors and, yes, the actors too -- could communicate directly with the viewers... that felt like the right idea. Which brings us here.

Welcome... To Kings and Court Historian.

Thank you for checking us out. Our goal is to post regularly as Kings begins its run on March 15... to answer your questions... show off pictures... flesh out the stories... to tell you what happened to make Kings happen. We may not be as diligent as faithful Perry, but we'll do our behind-the-scenes best.

It's been about two and a half years since Kings cracked its eggshell. Too much coffee on a sleepless morning -- some of it spilled on my robe and laptop -- followed by 30 months of pushing Kings, its characters, and the complex world they inhabit, steeply uphill. The number of people who came to help roll the boulder against gravity, suffering the stumbles, skinned knees and rude roots along the way are too many to count... Directors, writers, actors, designers, editors, crew, friends... people at studio and network... Without every one of them we wouldn't have a show to air.

Deep gratitude. Two and a half years' worth.

And now we're less than a week away... and can't wait to air already.

Last thing for now: If you like the pilot but are nervous about investing in a show that could get cancelled just as you're getting into it... good news. We had the (very) rare opportunity to write, produce and complete our entire first season -- 12 episodes, including our two-hour pilot -- before our first airing... They're just burning in our pocket. So no fears of a story started and unfinished.

We hope it's the first of many seasons... but even if it isn't we're all proud of the work we've done.

We hope you tune in... we hope you like it... we hope to hear from you...

Michael Green