Television: How To Create a Heavenly Host

This week, Regis Philbin returns to Prime Time, hosting a show called America's Got Talent (NBC, Wednesdays, 9 p.m. E.T.). That is ironic, because while America may have talent, Regis does not. At least, he says, that's what he thought when he became a San Diego TV host almost a half-century ago. "I wasn't a comedian or a singer or a dancer," he says. "I didn't have any of the abilities you need to succeed in this business." It wasn't until 1967, when he became second banana on Joey Bishop's late-night ABC show, that the Rat Packer told Philbin he chose him for his special talent. "I said, 'What is it?'" Philbin recalls. "I was on pins and needles. He said, 'You! You are a great listener!' Which was not the answer I was hoping for."

Philbin is being--as much as a man can be who regularly refers to himself in the third person--modest. By one objective measure, he is TV's most successful host ever: he holds the Guinness record for most hours on camera (15,188, and counting). When the aliens who have monitored our broadcast signals invade, they will demand to negotiate the terms of our surrender with Regis. Now the producers of American Idol are hoping he will do for their new Ed Sullivanesque variety competition (one auditioner balances a 300-lb. oven on his face) what he did for another retro summer show called Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. "Every demographic loves him," says Talent executive producer Ken Warwick. "When we bring him onstage, the audience absolutely erupts. He can ask exactly the question that everyone is dying to know and wring as much humor out of it as possible."

Clearly the man is good at something. But what? That's the stumper. Hosting is perhaps the highest-profile job on TV (Oprah, Ellen, Rosie: host, host, host) and the worst defined. It's not comedy, though many comics have done it. It's not acting, though actors have--as well as Tony Danza. There are no host schools. There was no Greek muse of hosting. A host plays himself. He talks to people. Sometimes, if the job is especially tricky, he has to hold a microphone. It is a job that, theoretically, anyone can do but that talented people have done terribly. (Sorry, Roseanne.) So with millions of dollars riding on the choice--and a raft of daytime and prime-time chat and competition shows searching for talent--what is, as Simon Cowell would say on Idol, the "X factor" that makes the perfect host?

Or put it another way: What is it that makes a prime-time star out of Howie Mandel, a guy whose claim to fame used to be inflating a latex glove with his nose? Says Mandel, of NBC's Deal or No Deal: Part of it is hard work. The comic and former St. Elsewhere co-star pooh-poohed the job when it was offered--"I couldn't see myself reading trivia questions off a card"--but one backed-up money truck later, he calls it "the most creative thing I've ever done." Executive producer Scott St. John says Mandel had the background to straddle the show's light and dark moments, as agonized contestants, egged on by briefcase-bearing babes, risk certain cash for a shot at $1 million. "We wanted someone who could handle the drama and allow those moments to play out," St. John says.