Brooks on Books: The Forgotten Network: Dumont and the Birth of American Television by David Weinstein

I don't know exactly why I think the long-defunct Dumont Network is so cool. Maybe it's just my general bias toward things that are old, black-and-white, and at least somewhat forgotten. Yet I'm not alone, as it seems there is a small but strong cult which appreciates and remembers Dumont. In this great book, David Weinstein draws on interviews, personal research, and a variety of valuable source material to relate the network's history. Along the way, he makes a strong case for its significant legacy and its role in the creation of modern television.

Dumont gave us personalities like Ernie Kovacs, Jackie Gleason, and Morey Amsterdam; programming innovations like daytime schedules geared towards stay-at-home moms and housewives; and production techniques like the first-person perspective camerawork of "The Plainclothes Man." Weinstein shows that the influence of the network goes far beyond what one might expect given that it went belly-up in 1955.

In the first quarter or so of the book, he explains the troubled business history of Allen Du Mont's creation. Du Mont was a scientist, not a businessman, and he created the TV programming end primarily to support the TV manufacturing part. When he was forced to sell part of the company to Paramount, it was the beginning of the end, as the studio didn't give Dumont the network the support it needed to compete. Television was much different back then, and lining up affiliates was a difficult process.

I enjoyed this history of the biz, and Weinstein includes many fascinating details about the practices of early TV, such as local stations picking and choosing programs to air from multiple nets. Yet I must admit that part of me was anxious to "get through" it so I could read about what really interested me: the programming.

Indeed, the last 75% or so of "The Forgotten Network" tells us about the rich variety of programming aired on Dumont in its brief history. Weinstein tells the story of a different genre or star in each chapter, covering everything from Captain Video to Bishop Fulton Sheen. This is where the book becomes not just well written and researched but flat-out fun. The author analyzes programs in depth without lapsing into rote plot summaries; he is adept at explaining the appeal and influence of a particular show in an entertaining fashion.

One of the best things about reading this 2004 book in 2008 is that since its publication, many of the shows discussed have been either released on DVD or uploaded to an Internet site. Weinstein actually had to work a bit to get access to some of this stuff, but we can see some of it on our laptop with a few clicks. For example, after reading the fascinating chapter on Dennis James' sometimes bizarre "OK, Mother," I found the very episode Weinstein saw on the Internet Archive.

Seeing that installment made me appreciate Weinstein's writing even more, as his observations were insightful and relevant. In fact, the (hopefully) increasing availability of Dumont programming should only make this fine book even more valuable, as viewers can seek out history and context; similarly, readers of "The Forgotten Network"can see samples for themselves.

Only one thing is missing here. I do wish Weinstein had addressed the oft-told tale that much of the Dumont kinescope archive was thoughtlessly thrown away. It's a shame that so much history was tossed out like that, but thankfully this book puts much of that legacy back together.