The Prevue Channel should have stayed a little longer

Let’s be honest: 1999 was wasted on people eager to launch shiny change ahead of or along with Y2K.

One of the dying decade’s definitive entities, the Prevue Channel, was among the first casualties of that impatience.

It happened literally overnight when January gave way to February. At that point, the long-hyped TV Guide Channel took hold with new music, radiant graphics and unmistakable magazine ties.

Last year, Derek Johnson, associate professor of media and cultural studies at the University of Wisconsin, described the motive best. In his introduction to an essay collection, From Networks to Netflix: A Guide to Changing Channels, he wrote, “Prevue would be renamed…to exploit the print publication’s legacy brand.”

Even in the young stages of the old millenium’s penultimate (not final) year, the future could not wait. A deal was done, and TV Guide’s constant bumper clips of excited viewers leaping offscreen served to symbolize its hurry.

But those visuals also inadvertently represented the uncertainty as to what was ahead. Much later, we found there were only so many ways to change Prevue to preserve its long-term viability.

In mid-January 2015, the repeatedly redressed network scrapped the unique format it had utilized for more than a quarter-century. The space lives on as Pop, yet another full-fledged programming platform.

Which begs the question: Was the TV Guide Channel’s (later TV Guide Network, later TVGN) 16-year run worth it? At the very least, did it need to hog 1999’s last 11 months, denying Prevue a more dignified exit?

Ask any ’90s nostalgia aficionado, and they would likely say no. And that demographic rather unabashedly exists. Handfuls of YouTube uploads capturing snippets of Prevue draw their share of thoughtful, wistful comments.

The remarks convey a yearning for slower, simpler entertainment consumption. Prevue was plenty conducive to that all around. It dressed the part with its Maine Black Bear-like combination of two shades of blue.

Where other channels might offer healthfully momentary escapism from the real world, Prevue provided a getaway from the rest of TV’s occasional comparative commotion. It also commanded a measure of attention viewers could not afford to withhold, lest they defeat the purpose. With that formula, it was firm but fair.

“When Prevue became TV Guide it lost its charm.” – YouTube user Tyler Knox in a nostalgia-heavy comment thread

As such, Prevue is a prime candidate to catalyze the American millennial and Generation X “In my day…” speeches. Such reminiscence is already cropping up in YouTube comment threads.

In one discussion, under a replay of the brand’s final moments and switch, user Victor Mariscal offers the following:

“It’s strange, but I miss Prevue Channel. Sure you had to wait for the programming info, but there was something reassuring about it.

“Sometimes I wish technology hadn’t advanced like it did. These days you can just get on your smartphone and look up what’s on TV. People have no idea how easy they have it.”

To that, a concurring viewer by the username lolhahah21 replied, “You are so right. I truly wish technology didn’t advance like it did.”

But alas, it did. Even so, although Prevue was bound to go obsolete, there was not much point in hastening its demise.

From its advent, the concept it embodied was destined to be a stand-in. Its practical services would hold consumers up before online, on-demand listings became commonplace.

The channel’s first incarnation, a slow-rolling listings message board, permeated the better part of the 1980s. Near the turn of the decade, a split screen gave more life to the guide (or Prevue Guide).

Before the jumbotron boom among sporting-venue scoreboards and the news crawls on cable networks, Prevue (rather aptly named in this regard) started offering video and text in a single space.

A 50-50 divide put the existing listings on the bottom half. Above it, you got a rotation of text-only classifieds or promos and TV commercials. Over time, the channel phased in and refined original clockwork segments on hot programming.

For the better part of the format’s run under its original banner, the Internet was barely out of gestation. (This author’s household would not go online until the autumn of 2000.) In addition, there were only so many digital-cable or satellite subscribers.

As such, other than opening a physical TV Guide, Prevue was the mainstream way of knowing what was on.

With its top-half content, though, watching the channel became less tedious. Even if a full bottom-half rotation yielded nothing of interest, you could stick around for a while. You did not even need to pay attention to derive any pleasure.

“This was such perfect background noise when nothing was on back in the day,” wrote YouTube commenter Pennsylvania History Buff.
 

For those who kept their eye on the screen, Prevue Tonight was a convenient coming-attractions service. By early 1998, that program was gone, but had a web of enjoyable round-the-clock offerings in its stead.

For the channel’s final year, there was a copious rotating variety of supermarket-free-sample-sized programming. Twice apiece each hour, Prevue News and Weather, Revue, Family, Sports, TV and This offered more substance.

These segments expanded upon the likes of Prevue Tonight, Family Vue and other precursors. The latter four would hype shows and telecasts beyond anything in the bottom half’s immediate 90-minute listing.

They also packed more detail to entice prospective viewers to the whole serving. In between, some of the advertisements pointed to programs that would air at a later hour or date.

In terms of finding something to watch, this beat sending your thumb snipe hunting atop the remote’s channel-changing button. Even if nothing appealed, this network’s varied offerings could offset ennui and service those who like a little repetition. It was pleasant company on an empty, bad-weather day.

Of course, after a while, the segments were also liable to distract from the listings. Those were why the Prevue powers that be built it, and why viewers came, to begin with.

Today, with more prevalent digital cable, dishes and Internet, a programming search requires less labor and less patience. With the web, content providers can digitally tease their output on a host of platforms.

The top half was a nice treat, but the ostensibly new-and-improved TV Guide brand overdid that part. Deeper into the new century, it could not help continuing in that direction, as the bottom half lost its utility.

By 2007, Johnson wrote, it began “deemphasizing navigation of other channels’ offerings in favor of its own original programs.”

When Pop came into being, network president Brad Schwartz essentially told the Washington Post’s Emily Yahr that TV Guide had become a victim of what did in its predecessor.

“To an older generation, there’s that nostalgia for that magazine on your coffee table every week,” Schwartz told Yahr. “But it’s like being nostalgic for anything you grew up with.”

Yes, including the Prevue Channel. Bless the Internet for letting us have back whatever we can of what it took away.
 

In the last two decades, the nostalgic appeal of Prevue’s distinctly ’90s vibe has strengthened. TV Guide proved louder and more chaotic, like the talking-head news channels it listed in its bottom-half rotation.

Perhaps no one is more grateful for that than YouTube user Alicia Jones, who shows up below several Prevue uploads. On one 10-minute, 40-second upload, taken from April 2, 1998, Jones simply states, “Thank you for this! #throwback #90s #memories.”

Meanwhile, two other users posted similar critiques of the successor in contrast with the predecessor. “When Prevue became TV Guide it lost its charm,” wrote Tyler Knox.

Added GDelva2003, “I love this Prevue Channel so much! I wish they never changed it back in the late ’90s.”

So then, what purpose did TV Guide really serve in its life after pushing Prevue out? Very little, it turned out.

To accentuate the print media-TV blend, the new network infused goggle-box versions of the magazine’s staples. As its icebreaker, the TV Guide Channel spotlighted John Lithgow on its first “Insider” segment.

But the more telling indicator of the format’s sustainability was the way TV Guide retained all of Prevue’s features. In short, they were essentially the same, but with “TV Guide” replacing “Prevue” and unremarkable words added to the name.

That is, Prevue Sports gave way to TV Guide Sportsview. Prevue Family’s old twice-hourly time slot would go to TV Guide Family Finds. The former Prevue News slot became home to TV Guide Newsbrief. Prevue Revue, which made the most of that oh-so-’90s penchant for intentional misspellings, became TV Guide’s Movie Profile.

For the viewer, Prevue’s unique offerings were good in moderation. Yet you are only going to live so long on a diet heavy on empty calories. Likewise, a novel persona is only novel for a limited time.

Naturally, 20/20 hindsight confirmed as much. But for the powers that be, the new idea seemed good at the time.

Two months ahead of the midwinter 1999 switch, Prevue executive vice president and general manager Pam Missick spoke with Kent Gibbons of Multichannel News. Of the new colors and graphics under the new name, she assessed, “It’ll be a new platform. It’s going to have a sexy new look.”

To be fair, TV Guide phased in its take on the bottom-half, initially leaving Prevue’s old dark blue alone. Its eventual yellow-gold in the bottom half and the red of the network’s emblem glowed more than Prevue’s dark blue. The same went for when it flashed combinations of white, green, blue or purple in its bumpers and bite-size programs.
 

But in the last two decades, the nostalgic appeal of Prevue’s distinctly ’90s vibe has strengthened. TV Guide proved louder and more chaotic, like the talking-head news channels it listed in its bottom-half rotation.

“There was something sort of relaxing about the Prevue Channel,” YouTube commenter SuperTugz opines beneath the transition video. “TV Guide ruined that when they replaced the beautiful jazz music and hilariously bad 900-number ads with celebrity gossip crap.”

Those whirlwinds got worse after the 21st century began in earnest, but these channels had started beforehand. In so doing, they encroached on the 1990s’ rightful territory.

At no point was that encroachment more egregious than when Feb. 1, 1999, stood at the Eastern Time Zone’s threshold. At T-minus nine minutes before midnight, TV Guide’s logo, music and colors were already hogging the northeast quarter of the screen.

The new music furthered the juxtaposition with the Prevue emblem on the upper left side. For short spurts, Prevue broke back in with its more diverse scores, still shots and messages. (Male voice): Check this out! (Female voice, singing): Oooh, yeah!...

Upon reliving those let-me-have-my-last-bow cuts, the aforementioned Jones commented on YouTube, “WOW the Song at 1:09! I have been waiting to hear that forever!” She then complimented uploader HulkieD, “You are one cool dude for this Thank you!”

Jones was referring to one of the short selected scores that filled time between commercials and segments. Ordinarily, Prevue would run three scores in a pattern, switching to a new hat trick every month.

But just like Y2K, TV Guide lacked patience in the late hours of Jan. 31, 1999. That first Prevue soundtrack snippet had barely given way to the second before the new network’s theme returned.

Commercials issuing the umpteenth reminder of the new amenities continued before a regularly scheduled Prevue News and Weather and Revue. For its final five minutes, the lame duck acted like no upheaval was imminent.

Except the promise of Prevue This at midnight and Prevue Family two minutes thereafter was never fulfilled. Instead, the Lithgow-centered premiere of TV Guide’s Insider filled that slot.

“And with that a chapter of my childhood ended without ceremony,” Jonathan Price commented on YouTube.