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    ‘West Side Story’ Will Not Return to Broadway

    The reimagined revival was closed by the pandemic, and then its lead producer, Scott Rudin, said he would step back from active participation in his shows after being accused of bullying.“West Side Story,” an ambitious, reimagined revival of the classic musical, will not reopen when Broadway returns this fall, the show announced Monday, making it one of the biggest productions yet to become a casualty of the pandemic.The show’s lead producer, Scott Rudin, announced in April that he was stepping back from active roles in his Broadway productions after he came under fire for a long history of bullying employees. But Rudin said at the time that while the decisions about the future of “West Side Story” and his other shows would be left to others, he hoped that they would return to Broadway when theaters were allowed to reopen.The “West Side Story” revival — put together by a creative team with avant-garde credentials, including the director Ivo van Hove and the choreographer Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker — opened in February 2020, less than a month before the coronavirus outbreak shut down Broadway and brought performances around the nation to a halt.“This difficult and painful decision comes after we have explored every possible path to a successful run, and unfortunately, for a variety of reasons, reopening is not a practical proposition,” Kate Horton, a producer on the show, said in a statement. “We thank all the brilliant, creative artists who brought ‘West Side Story’ to life at the Broadway Theater, even for so brief a time, especially the extraordinary acting company, 33 of whom made their Broadway debuts in this production.”News of the closure of “West Side Story” comes as Broadway is cautiously preparing for a return. Preview performances of the play “Pass Over” began last week, and are scheduled to be followed next month by the return of longtime favorites including “Hadestown,” “Hamilton,” “Wicked” and others.Several other shows produced by Rudin are planning to return to Broadway. Aaron Sorkin’s stage adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird” plans to resume performances on Oct. 5 with Jeff Daniels back in the cast; the production announced that the show would now be overseen by Orin Wolf, who would be given the title of executive producer.Scott Rudin, center, the lead producer of “West Side Story,” said in April that he would step back from active participation in his shows after he was accused of abusive behavior. Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesBut even as Broadway prepares for a triumphant return, the departure of “West Side Story” offers a reminder of the toll the pandemic has taken on the industry.Last May, only two months into the pandemic, Disney Theatrical Productions announced that its stage adaptation of “Frozen” would not reopen. “Mean Girls,” a Broadway adaptation of the 2004 film with a book by Tina Fey, also announced it would not return.The “West Side Story” production, while daring, opened to mixed reviews. A new film adaptation by Steven Spielberg is scheduled to be released in December, but the Broadway show will not be around to capitalize on any interest that the new film version generates. More

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    What’s on TV This Week: ‘The Bachelorette’ and Liza Minnelli

    ABC airs the finale of the “The Bachelorette” Season 17 and PBS brings us to a Liza Minnelli concert.Between network, cable and streaming, the modern television landscape is a vast one. Here are some of the shows, specials and movies coming to TV this week, Aug. 9-15. Details and times are subject to change. More

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    Jane Withers, Child Star Who Later Won Fame in Commercials, Dies at 95

    As a girl, she landed leading roles that were the antidote to Shirley Temple’s. As an adult, she was known as Josephine the Plumber in ads for Comet cleanser.Jane Withers, a top child star in the 1930s who played tough, tomboyish brats in more than two dozen B films and achieved a second burst of fame as an adult as Josephine the Plumber in commercials for Comet cleanser, died on Saturday in Burbank, Calif. She was 95. Her death was confirmed by her daughter Kendall Errair.In her first major movie role, in 20th Century Fox’s “Bright Eyes” (1934), the 8-year-old Jane played a spoiled rich kid who wanted a machine gun for Christmas and took a ghoulish delight in sending her dolls to the hospital. She was the antidote to the movie’s star, Shirley Temple, the always cheerful, always obedient, always smiling orphan.The titles of some of the films in which Ms. Withers starred said it all: “The Holy Terror” (1937), “Wild and Woolly” (1937), “Rascals” (1938), “Always in Trouble” (1938) and “The Arizona Wildcat” (1939).At the end of most of her movies, “just to satisfy everybody, I get a good spanking,” Ms. Withers told Norman Zierold, the author of “The Child Stars” (1965). “The minute they slapped me in ‘Bright Eyes,’ everybody just yelled and waved, they were so happy. Well, I don’t mind. I had my fun.”As an adult, Ms. Withers played Vashti Snythe, the neighbor of Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson who delighted in spending her oil money in “Giant” (1956); appeared in several TV series; and voiced the gargoyle Laverne in the animated “Hunchback of Notre Dame II” (2002), a role she first took on after the death of Mary Wickes in 1995.But her most memorable and long-lasting role was as Josephine the Plumber, in a white cap and overalls, in the 1960s and ’70s. Nearly 40 years later, she was still being recognized for that character.“I can be at a market and I’ll be talking to somebody there about a can of peas and all of a sudden they’ll say, ‘I knew that was you! I recognized your voice right away,’” Ms. Withers told The Long Beach Press-Telegram in 2007.Ms. Withers and Richard Clayton in “A Very Young Lady” in 1941.LMPC, via Getty ImagesMost of her films were made at Fox’s small studio in Hollywood. Shirley Temple’s mother, Gertrude, who was said to be choosy about who was allowed to play with her daughter, had Ms. Withers banished from the studio’s grand Westwood lot, according to another former child star, Dickie Moore. In his memoir, “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” Mr. Moore wrote that Gertrude Temple was so protective of Shirley that Jane was not even allowed to say hello to her when the children performed together in “Bright Eyes.”Although her Hollywood success did not survive adolescence, Ms. Withers was the rare child actor who entered adulthood prepared for the real world — and with money in the bank. Her parents “taught Jane bookkeeping at age seven,” Mr. Moore wrote, in contrast to almost all the other parents, who refused to allow their meal tickets to grow up and, in most cases, squandered their money. It was a point of pride for her father, a Goodrich executive, that his salary paid the family’s expenses.Jane Withers was born in Atlanta on April 12, 1926, to Walter and Lavinia Withers. Her mother, a movie fan, picked Jane as a name because she thought it would look good on a marquee. By the age of 4, the pudgy child with the Buster Brown haircut was singing, dancing and imitating Greta Garbo; billed as “Dixie’s Dainty Dewdrop,” she had her own local radio program.When Jane was 6, the family moved to Hollywood. After two years of department store modeling and bit parts, she was cast as Joy Smythe in “Bright Eyes.”Like Ms. Temple, Ms. Withers played an orphan in most of her films. In “Paddy O’ Day” (1935), her rescuer was Rita Cansino — soon to be renamed Rita Hayworth — in her first leading role. In “45 Fathers” (1937), she was adopted by a group of old men.By 1937, Ms. Withers was in sixth place on theater owners’ list of the Top 10 box office stars, despite the fact that she performed only in B movies. And sales of Jane Withers paper dolls, hair bows, socks and mystery novels similar to the Nancy Drew series earned her more money than her movies.Stardom also brought Ms. Withers thousands of dolls and teddy bears, most of them sent by fans. Those fans included President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had his wife, Eleanor, hand deliver a teddy bear.Jane Withers in 1935. At the end of most of her movies, she once said, “just to satisfy everybody, I get a good spanking.”Film Publicity Archive/United Archives, via Getty ImagesAs she entered her teenage years, Ms. Withers wrote a story for herself, under the pseudonym Jerrie Walters. It was made into the movie “Small Town Deb” (1942). As her contract with Fox ended, she starred as a peasant girl in Samuel Goldwyn’s “The North Star” (1943).Ms. Withers married a Texas oilman, William Moss Jr., in 1947. They had three children and divorced in 1955, leaving Ms. Withers with several oil wells. That same year she married Kenneth Errair, who had been a member of the singing group the Four Freshmen. He was killed in a plane crash in 1968. (Information on her survivors was not immediately available.)In August 2004, Ms. Withers auctioned several hundred dolls, many of them likenesses of film and radio stars and characters of the 1930s, including Sonja Henie, the Lone Ranger and Snow White.Ms. Withers may never have surpassed Ms. Temple’s popularity on the screen. But in the 2004 sale, a Shirley Temple doll dressed in her “Little Colonel” costume sold for $3,100; a Jane Withers doll sold for $5,600. More

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    Markie Post, ‘Night Court’ Actress, Dies at 70

    Ms. Post played a bail bondswoman on the show “The Fall Guy” in the 1980s and starred opposite John Ritter in the sitcom “Hearts Afire” in the 1990s.Markie Post, the effervescent actress known for her roles on the television series “Night Court” and “The Fall Guy” and the movie “There’s Something About Mary” during a career that spanned four decades, died on Saturday at her home in Los Angeles. She was 70.Her death was confirmed by her manager, Ellen Lubin Sanitsky, who provided a statement from Ms. Post’s family specifying that the cause of death was cancer.Ms. Post had continued to act for nearly four years after her initial cancer diagnosis and while undergoing chemotherapy treatments that she referred to as her “side job,” her family said.Since her diagnosis, she had worked on a Lifetime Christmas movie and had a recurring guest role on the ABC series “The Kids Are Alright.”Frequently cast in daffy roles that emphasized her comedic timing, Ms. Post became a television fixture in the 1980s.She appeared on “The Love Boat,” “The A-Team” and “Cheers” before landing a prominent role as a bail bondswoman on “The Fall Guy,” an action show about a stuntman, played by Lee Majors, who moonlights as a bounty hunter.Her greatest success came on the sitcom “Night Court,” when she was cast as Christine Sullivan, the alluring and naïve public defender who was the romantic interest of Judge Harry T. Stone, played by Harry Anderson. The judge was not her only suitor, though. So was Dan Fielding, the lecherous prosecutor played by John Larroquette.One of her co-stars on the show, Charlie Robinson, who played the pragmatic court clerk, died last month at 75.Ms. Post with John Larrouquette in “Night Court.”NBCUniversal, via Getty ImagesIn the 1990s, Ms. Post starred opposite John Ritter on “Hearts Afire,” a political sitcom in which she played a former journalist who went to work as a press aide for a Southern senator. Her father was played by Ed Asner, who paid tribute on Sunday to Ms. Post on Twitter.Born on Nov. 4, 1950, in Palo Alto, Calif., Ms. Post began her career working on game shows, writing questions for “Family Feud,” finding prizes for “The Price Is Right” and doing research for “Split Second.”“I learned more researching that game show than I did in four years of college,” Ms. Post said in an interview with Bill Tush on his show in the 1980s.In 1998, Ms. Post was cast by the Farrelly brothers as the ditsy mother of Mary, the main character in “There’s Something About Mary,” who was played by Cameron Diaz. Later in her career, Ms. Post’s acting credits included “Scrubs” and “Chicago P.D.”Ms. Post is survived by her husband, Michael A. Ross; and two daughters, Kate Armstrong Ross, an actress, and Daisy Schoenborn, who said in their statement that Ms. Post exemplified kindness.They described Ms. Post as “a person who made elaborate cakes for friends, sewed curtains for first apartments and showed us how to be kind, loving and forgiving in an often harsh world.” More

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    ‘The Most Happy Fella,’ Sliced, Diced and Not Very Happy

    Having revamped “Oklahoma!” into a dark X-ray of itself, Daniel Fish rethinks another Golden Age classic with “Most Happy in Concert.”RED HOOK, N.Y. — It was useful to remember as I watched “Most Happy in Concert,” the bizarre and fascinating 75-minute cantata that just finished a run here on Saturday evening, that the neatly cut lawn at Montgomery Place, the grand Hudson River estate where the show was performed, does not much resemble the vineyards of Napa Valley. That’s where “The Most Happy Fella,” the 1956 Frank Loesser musical on which the concert was based, takes place.But however I tried to convince myself that despite their enormous differences, the two works, like the two locales, might both be beautiful, my ear told me no. The original is a heart-lifting achievement; the concert merely sucks its blood.To be fair, “Most Happy in Concert” is very much a work in progress, easy to react to but difficult to assess. Originally scheduled for a staged production as part of the Bard SummerScape series in 2020, following workshops going back to 2018, it was postponed by the pandemic and emerged into public view for this three-night stand in denatured form, fully orchestrated but without scenery, costumes or movement. Even with those provisos, and with a relatively high tolerance for tinkering with classic musicals, I felt that Daniel Fish, who conceived and directed the adaptation, had not yet made a convincing argument for what made the tinkering worth it.Fish could be forgiven for heaving a been-there sigh right now. Much the same criticism was lobbed at his SummerScape production of “Oklahoma!” in 2015, even though it became a hit at St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn three years later and, after transferring to Broadway, won the 2019 Tony Award for best revival of a musical. That adaptation set the Rodgers and Hammerstein classic in a kind of community party room, with streamers and banjos and chili at intermission. You could hardly have missed — and many critics were enthralled by — the way this new light seemed to reveal the work’s bones like an X-ray delivering bad news.“The Most Happy Fella” is a different animal. Though some consider it an opera, Loesser preferred to call it “a musical with a lot of music” — almost three glorious hours’ worth. Everything he could turn into song, he did, brilliantly absorbing the story of Tony, a Sicilian immigrant grape farmer, and Rosabella, the much younger bride he obtains through deception, into arias, toe-tappers, recitatives and chorales. The result is a long, difficult and, at this point, almost prohibitively costly show to mount; with its intricate echoes and leitmotifs it is also hard to cut. Still, Broadway’s Golden Age produced few more exhilarating works, and some of us will go anywhere to find it.That seems to be what Fish did, too.Tina Fabrique, singing “Young People,” in the concert production by Bard SummerScape.Maria BaranovaMikaela Bennett singing “Somebody, Somewhere” in the concert production at Montgomery Place.Maria BaranovaWorking with his “Oklahoma!” collaborators Daniel Kluger and Nathan Koci, Fish must have realized that he could not preserve the integrity of the score or the wide-screen story in a small-scale production. His solution, which will displease purists, and plenty of impurists as well, was to do away with the dialogue altogether and put the music through a high-speed chipper.Many great numbers were lost in the process; the climactic “My Heart Is So Full of You,” for instance, emerged as a few wisps of melody dispersing in the night air. The songs or song particles that survived this almost aleatory process were assigned to seven performers — all female or nonbinary and sitting glumly on stools — in kaleidoscopic shufflings that prevented the creation of any sustained characterization. Everyone played anyone, and thus no one.If you didn’t know the plot, you would therefore be unable to discern it here. Melodies were handed over in mid-phrase, songs were sung out of order or sampled briefly before crashing into others. On the rare occasion when Fish allowed a number to be performed intact, it was, as he may have intended, a revelation, like the moon cracking through clouds. Yet even this seemed random. It made sense to let the ravishing soprano Mikaela Bennett sing all of “Somebody, Somewhere,” Rosabella’s aching introductory number, but in another extended solo, the belter Tina Fabrique made an R&B showstopper out of “Young People,” originally a minor minuet.I don’t mind that the soundscape of Loesser’s Napa, with its tarantellas and Italianate arioso, was dumped in favor of arrangements and orchestrations for a 12-player ensemble that favored smoky bebop, sour jazz fusion and — was this sarcastic? — something you might have heard on an Andy Williams special. (To listen to the spectacular original orchestrations, by Don Walker, I need merely hit play on the original cast album.) And I enjoyed discovering new ideas inside many of the songs, even if the formerly celebratory, up-tempo “Abbondanza” now had all the vivacity of a funeral march.But unlike Fish’s “Oklahoma!” — in which the dialogue and score were left intact — “Most Happy in Concert” works so hard to be new for newness’ sake that it feels like open season on musical comedy. In a developing work, that arrogance is understandable and maybe even necessary; I look forward to seeing “Most Happy” again. I hope that when I do, I’ll be able to discern what Fish is trying to develop it into.Mary Testa, center, with the cast of this Bard SummerScape program.Maria BaranovaIt’s not as if the original needs “correcting” for dramaturgical or political reasons, like so many Golden Age musicals. And though it was nice to hear sopranos and altos sing a score that typically includes tenors, baritones and basses as well, it has to be said that few of the singers, who also included Jules Latimer, Erin Markey, April Matthis, Mallory Portnoy and Mary Testa, made musicality a priority; angst and anomie were the top notes. Their sound was sometimes, I assume deliberately, harsh and unbeautiful.And yet the show’s emotional world is often harsh and unbeautiful too. Tony, for all his heartiness, has spent a lifetime believing he’s too homely and stupid to marry. Rosabella — which isn’t even her real name — thinks that as a poor woman she has no choice but to go with any man who might ask.These feelings, Fish seems to posit, belong not just to them. Dissociating the story’s emotions from individual characters and even plot may be a way of showing that they exist universally, as a kind of magma boiling beneath us all.Perhaps it’s best, then, to look at “Most Happy in Concert” as an abstract painting that creates meaning through a collision of forms. Which is not to say it has no theme. The pun in the evening’s title lets you know you are listening to the cries (sometimes gorgeous, sometimes ugly) of people who are “most happy” not when alone but “in concert”: who crave love but don’t know it, or are too afraid to ask.Of course, that was the show’s theme in the first place. More

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    Ashley Nicole Black Is Competing Against Herself for an Emmy

    The comedian was nominated twice in the same Emmy category for her television writing. She’s just getting started.At first, Ashley Nicole Black didn’t get why people kept sending her the meme of Spider-Man pointing at an identical Spider-Man, an image often used to joke about situations in which two incredibly similar people face off.But when someone Photoshopped Ms. Black’s face onto both Spider-Mans, it clicked. The 2021 Emmy Awards nominations had just been announced, and Ms. Black, 36, had been nominated twice in the same category.She was competing against herself.Ms. Black was nominated for Outstanding Writing for a Variety Series for “The Amber Ruffin Show” and “A Black Lady Sketch Show.” Two other people have been nominated twice in this category in the past five years: John Mulaney and Seth Meyers, both in 2019.I CANT WITH YALL 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 https://t.co/YE7gBnqjw0— Ashley Nicole Black (@ashleyn1cole) July 14, 2021
    “I feel like that kid still, who’s on the side of the playground, who nobody’s noticed,” Ms. Black said in a recent video interview. But that’s just impostor syndrome talking. Ms. Black has been nominated for an Emmy eight times: twice for writing for a variety special and six times for writing for a variety series. She also won once, in 2017, for her work on “Not the White House Correspondents Dinner” with Samantha Bee.Ms. Black has written for many critically acclaimed series and shows, including “Full Frontal With Samantha Bee,” “Ted Lasso” and “Bless This Mess.” Although “A Black Lady Sketch Show” is Ms. Black’s first time as a series regular, she was a correspondent on “Full Frontal With Samantha Bee” and acted in “Drunk History” and the 2014 film “An American Education.”Robin Thede, the creator of “A Black Lady Sketch Show” on HBO — which was also nominated this year as an Outstanding Variety Sketch Series, and twice for Outstanding Guest Actress in a Comedy Series (Yvette Nicole Brown and Issa Rae) — sees Ms. Black as “a force of nature and of comedy.”“I have been lucky enough to work with her as a writer and performer and know firsthand how ridiculously good she is at both,” Ms. Thede wrote in an email. “She’s truly a powerhouse who will leave an indelible mark on this industry.”Ms. Black described herself as “someone who’s observing what’s going on in the world, and trying to reflect it back to people.” “To me,” she said, “that’s art.”She is from a family of musicians, so singing in an ensemble, she said — whether it was musical theater or show choir — meant learning to breathe with others and sound like one voice. This set her up for the moment she found improv comedy, because she already knew how to collaborate — and how not to steal a scene. “I was, I think, picking up all the pieces I needed to get where I was going,” she said.After graduating from the University of California, Santa Cruz in 2007, she began a Ph.D. program in performance studies at Northwestern University. She hated it and was anxious all the time, she said, so her parents bought her an improv class at the Second City comedy club in nearby Chicago to blow off steam.When she took a comedy writing class there, a teacher pulled her aside to let her know she was a writer.“People had been telling me, ‘You should try this. You should try this,’ and I had been uncomfortably trying it,” Ms. Black said. “But ‘you’re a writer’? I was like, ‘yes.’ I completely shifted my view of myself to be a writer first. And that was when everything started to fall into place.”Chicago, Ms. Black said, is the best place in the world to learn comedy writing. There’s an “emotionality” she found in Chicago that she values in many of her collaborators, including Ms. Bee and Ms. Ruffin.“What attracted me to Sam and Amber is that they’re admitting to you that they live in the world,” she said. “And they might be upset about it, and they might be angry about it, and they might cry about it on camera, because they’re not removed from it. They’re a part of it.”This is the “good stuff” of comedy, in Ms. Black’s eyes: The stuff that happens when characters have feelings, and when they’re flawed. People who have been to therapy and have their lives together aren’t nearly as fun to embody, she said. A good example of a character who embodies that tension: Ashley’s perfectionistic alter ego on “A Black Lady Sketch Show.”In the show, Ms. Black plays a woman (also named Ashley) who is a bossy know-it-all. She is trying for total control, and in the process, irritating her friends. “I am not like that and take great pains not to be,” Ms. Black said, “but it’s so much fun to play.”“All day, you have anxiety. You’re trying to make sure everyone around you is comfortable,” she said of real life. “You’re thinking about what you say and what you do and how it affects people. And then, when you get to play those characters who aren’t that way, it’s so freeing.”Ms. Black said she tends to be quiet and a little shy, and that she used to worry that not being “on” all the time might disappoint people. “But I’ve sort of released feeling bad about that,” she said, “because I just try to be present and have honest experiences.”During the pandemic, those experiences included spending time with her family in Los Angeles, being a hardworking dog mom to Gordi the Sato and watching every Marvel movie ever made. “I just wanted to watch good guys win some things,” she said.Right now she’s evaluating what she wants to do next and what percentage of her time she wants to spend on each thing. Ms. Ruffin wrote in an email about Ms. Black, “she’s gone from ‘a writer’ to ‘theeeee writer.’” But Ms. Black is still hoping for a 70-30 or 60-40 writing to acting split, she said.For now, “It really made me so happy that people — oh my gosh, I’m getting emotional — care what I’m doing,” she said. “So I’m just really grateful that anybody noticed that I was working so hard.” More

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    Herbert Schlosser, a Force Behind ‘S.N.L.’ and ‘Laugh-In,’ Dies at 95

    As a top NBC executive, he wrote a memo envisioning the show that became “Saturday Night Live.” He also helped recruit Johnny Carson and oversaw a raft of hit shows.Herbert Schlosser, a longtime NBC executive who put an indelible stamp on the network by negotiating Johnny Carson’s first deal to host “The Tonight Show,” putting “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” on the air and overseeing the development of “Saturday Night Live,” died on Friday at his home in Manhattan. He was 95.His death was confirmed by his wife, Judith Schlosser.Mr. Schlosser was president of NBC in 1974 when he faced a late-night predicament: Carson no longer wanted the network to carry repeats of “Tonight” on weekends. But pleasing Carson, the network’s most important star, led to an inevitable question: What would NBC televise at 11:30 on Saturday nights?Mr. Schlosser wrote a memo in early 1975 that laid out the fundamentals of an original program that would be televised from NBC’s headquarters at Rockefeller Center; would be carried live, or at least taped on the same day, to maintain its topicality; would be “young and bright,” with a “distinctive look, a distinctive set and a distinctive sound”; would “seek to develop new television personalities”; and would have a different host each week.“Saturday Night is an ideal time to launch a show like this,” Mr. Schlosser wrote. “Those who now take the Saturday/Sunday ‘Tonight Show’ repeats should welcome this, and I would imagine we would get much greater clearance with a new show.”A sketch from the first episode of “Saturday Night Live,” seen on Oct. 11, 1975; from left, George Coe, John Belushi, Chevy Chase and Gilda Radner. The formula for the show had been spelled out in a memo by Mr. Schlosser earlier that year.Herb Ball/NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty Images“Saturday Night Live,” originally called just “Saturday Night” — which followed much of Mr. Schlosser’s formula, and which was produced, then as now, by Lorne Michaels — made its debut on Oct. 11, 1975, after Game 1 of the World Series, between the Red Sox and Cincinnati Reds. Mr. Schlosser had attended the game in Boston with Bowie Kuhn, the strait-laced baseball commissioner, and invited him to his hotel room to watch.“He didn’t laugh. And I thought, ‘Well, that’s Bowie,’” Mr. Schlosser recalled in “Live From New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of ‘Saturday Night Live’ as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests” (2002), by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales. “And then after a while, he started to chuckle. And then he’d actually laugh. And I figured, ‘Well, if he likes it, it’s going to have a wider audience than most people think.’”Mr. Michaels, in a phone interview, said that Mr. Schlosser had been a staunch backer of the show.“We wouldn’t have been on the air without him,” he said. “‘Live’ was his idea, not mine. He just believed in the show. He protected it.”Mr. Schlosser, a lawyer, had been an executive in NBC’s business affairs department, where he negotiated programming contracts to carry, among other events, the 1964 Summer Olympics from Tokyo and talent deals like ones with the comedian Bob Hope, whose specials were a mainstay of NBC’s prime-time schedule.“There were always kickers to his deals,” Mr. Schlosser told the Television Academy in an interview in 2007. With each new one, NBC had to buy a piece of land from Hope, one of the largest private landowners in California.“We bought it, got capital gains and never lost money on it,” Mr. Schlosser said.In 1966, Mr. Schlosser was named NBC’s vice president for programs on the West Coast, based in Burbank, Calif. Over six years, he was involved in developing numerous shows, among them some with Black stars, like the popular comedian Flip Wilson’s variety series and “Julia,” a sitcom starring Diahann Carroll as a single nurse with a son. He also hired the first woman and the first Black person to be vice presidents in the department.Flip Wilson, left, and Richard Pryor in 1973 on “The Flip Wilson Show,” which Mr. Schlosser had helped develop.Paul W. Bailey/NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty ImagesMr. Schlosser particularly championed “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In,” a fast-paced satirical series that made its debut in early 1968. It was considered outrageous then for the political and risqué humor of its skits, performed by a cast of future stars including Goldie Hawn and Lily Tomlin.George Schlatter, the executive producer of “Laugh-In,” recalled that Mr. Schlosser had protected him from those within NBC who found the show’s content offensive.“Every Tuesday morning there was a parade into his office — censors, lawyers, bookkeepers,” Mr. Schlatter said by phone. “They’d say, ‘Herb, talk to him.’ Then he’d say to me, ‘I promised them I’d talk to you.’ And he’d say, ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing.’”Herbert Samuel Schlosser was born on April 21, 1926, in Atlantic City, N.J. His father, Abraham, owned a furniture store; his mother, Anna (Olesker) Schlosser, was a homemaker.After serving stateside in the Navy, he studied public and international affairs at Princeton University, graduating in 1949. Two years later, he graduated from Yale Law School.He started as a lawyer with a Wall Street firm, but the insurance work there bored him, and he moved to Phillips Nizer Benjamin Krim & Ballon (now called Phillips Nizer LLP), a Manhattan firm with many film and television clients. That experience led to his hiring around 1957 as general counsel of California National Productions, a film, merchandising and syndication subsidiary of NBC. He later became its chief operating officer before moving to NBC’s business affairs department in 1960.Johnny Carson in his first appearance as host of “The Tonight Show,” on Oct. 1, 1962. Mr. Schlosser had led the negotiations that brought him to NBC from ABC.NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty ImagesAs a lawyer with the department, he led the talks to bring Carson to NBC to replace Jack Paar as the host of “Tonight” in 1962. At the time, Carson was with ABC as M.C. of the game show “Who Do You Trust?,” and ABC required him to fulfill the last six months of his contract.Mr. Schlosser said he had agreed to pay Mr. Carson $2,500 a week (about $21,000 today). But when ABC held up his departure, one of Mr. Carson’s agents made a further demand.“He said, ‘Now that you can’t get him, we want more money,’” Mr. Schlosser recalled in the Television Academy interview. “I said, ‘We’re sticking with our price.’”Mr. Schlosser rose steadily at NBC. He was named executive vice president of the television network in 1972; promoted to president a year later; and named president of the National Broadcasting Company, the network’s corporate parent, in 1974 and chief executive in 1977.“He supported quality programs and had an idea that news was probably the most important thing the networks did,” Bud Rukeyser, a former executive vice president of corporate communications for NBC, said in a phone interview. “He gave news the benefit of the doubt. If news wanted a half-hour to do something, the answer was always yes.”But Mr. Schlosser was ousted in 1978 and replaced by Fred Silverman, who had engineered ABC’s rise to first place in prime-time ratings as its chief of programming.Mr. Schlosser’s standing had been hurt by NBC’s inability to produce a new prime-time hit series the previous season and climb out of third place.Shortly before Mr. Schlosser left NBC, the network presented “Holocaust,” a four-part mini-series that he had greenlighted. It won eight Emmy Awards. His main contribution to the project, he said, was persuading the executive producer, Herbert Brodkin, to change the title of the series, which had been called “The Family Weiss,” after some of its main characters.Mr. Schlosser and his wife, Judith, in 2011 at an event held by the Museum of the Moving Image at the Manhattan restaurant Cipriani. Mr. Schlosser was the museum’s first chairman. Hiroko Masuike/The New York TimesMr. Schlosser didn’t have to go far for his next job: He was named an executive vice president of RCA, NBC’s parent company. His assignment was to develop software for RCA’s SelectaVision videodisc project. Three years later, he was named to run all of RCA’s entertainment activities, which also included RCA Records (but not NBC).He left in 1985 to become a senior adviser at Wertheim & Company, a Wall Street investment bank, as well as chairman of the planned Museum of the Moving Image, which opened in Queens in 1988. He remained there as either chairman or co-chairman until 2013.In addition to his wife, Judith (Gassner) Schlosser, Mr. Schlosser is survived by his son, Eric, the author of “Fast Food Nation”; a daughter, Lynn Jacobson, a former television executive; five grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren.Mr. Schlosser once recalled his certainty that “Saturday Night Live” could be a part of NBC for a long time, just as “Tonight” and “Today” were. Another model of late-night success at NBC under his watch was “The Midnight Special,” a series featuring pop and rock performers, that was broadcast on Fridays after “The Tonight Show” from 1973 until 1981.“NBC had this tradition of succeeding with shows like that,” he told the Television Academy. “To me, it was a no-brainer.” More

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    The First Play Returning to Broadway Is Doing Things Differently

    Anna Martin and Phyllis Fletcher and After the opening night performance of “Pass Over,” hundreds gathered for a block party. The playwright, Antoinette Nwandu, spoke to the crowd from a balcony above the theater marquee.Jeenah Moon for The New York TimesThis episode contains strong language.Antoinette Nwandu’s “Pass Over” made its Broadway debut this week. Drawing on “Waiting for Godot” and the Book of Exodus, the play follows two Black men trapped on a city block — both by existential dread, and by the fear of being killed by police.But Broadway audiences won’t see the play’s original ending, which featured the death of one of the main characters.“I no longer wanted to work on a play that ended with the murder of a Black man,” said Nwandu, who rewrote the final scene. “I want to focus on life.”Nwandu’s play was the first to debut on Broadway since theaters closed their doors in March of 2020 and the first since a coalition of theater artists of color demanded change from the theater ecosystem in America.Nwandu spoke with the theater reporter Michael Paulson about the changes she is personally bringing to theater, and her hopes for the industry — still grappling with the pandemic — as the curtains rise again.“Thank you for celebrating Black joy!” Nwandu told celebrants at an afterparty on West 52nd Street, outside the theater. Jeenah Moon for The New York TimesAudience members in masks react after the curtain call.Jeenah Moon for The New York TimesTheatergoers gave a standing ovation to the three actors: Jon Michael Hill, left, Namir Smallwood and (unseen) Gabriel Ebert.Jeenah Moon for The New York Times More