Television: City Of Angels

You'd think Steven Bochco was the Branch Rickey of American dramatic television. Ever since the announcement of City of Angels (CBS, Wednesdays, 8 p.m. E.T.), an urban-hospital drama with a mostly black cast, the powerful producer (Hill Street Blues, NYPD Blue) has been portrayed like the man who brought Jackie Robinson to the majors: the beneficent white guy who ushered minority talent onto the playing field of TV drama.

But since last July, when the N.A.A.C.P. threatened boycotts against ABC, CBS, Fox and NBC for underrepresenting people of color in prime time, many shows have plugged minorities into their lineups. City's true distinction is that Bochco has brought minorities into the front office. Not only is one of the show's three co-creators African American (Emmy Award-winning director Paris Barclay), but so is half the writing staff and 70% of the production crew. "I've been an actor for 30 years, and normally I'm the only black on a set," says Harold Sylvester, who writes for the show and also plays custodian Wendell. "It's like going home every day."

The N.A.A.C.P.'s complaint focused largely on minority characters. But the casting disparity was the good news, compared with that in the creative and executive ranks. Nearly all the executives who can approve series are white, and a 1998 report by the Writers Guild of America found that 92% of all black TV writers work for mostly black-cast sitcoms. And again, that's the good news. At least there are black-cast sitcoms to be segregated on, an option other minorities don't have.

So the N.A.A.C.P. and the coalition of Hispanic, Asian and Native American groups it joined with decided to focus on diversity behind the camera. "We were interested in pipeline development," says N.A.A.C.P. president Kweisi Mfume, "finding a way to influence the process so it affects what we see over the next 24 to 36 months." This month NBC and ABC promised provisions to train, mentor and find jobs for qualified minorities as writers, directors, producers and executives. Mfume says the coalition is nearing agreements with Fox and CBS. The ABC deal emphasizes scholarships, mentoring and training. The NBC pact creates a minority writing position on each show returning for its second season. (If Stark Raving Mad is renewed, maybe they'll draw straws for it.)

But will these writers get to tell their stories? A recent controversy on UPN's family sitcom Moesha suggests that defining "the black experience" is thorny even on a show with nine black writers. As the title character (played by Brandy) moved on to college, the network sought to add gritty elements to make the squeaky-clean comedy more "relevant" by considering storylines about sex and gangs. One of the show's creators, Vida Spears, resisted the changes and was forced to leave.

The lesson of Moesha is not whether gang banging or being a well-adjusted teen virgin fits the black experience. Both do. Both fit the white experience too, although no one would suggest that white characters must be either Tony Soprano or Dawson Leery. Representativeness--one show expected to carry a whole race--is the curse of minority-cast series when so few are on TV. City's unusualness as a drama is a big publicity boon but also a burden. "Minorities in the business are rooting like hell for this show," says Charles Holland, a black writer. "The stakes are high."