Scramble For The Bacon

In his Manhattan office last week, amid a sprawl of golf memorabilia and teddy bears, Bryant Gumbel reclined to ponder a hypothetical. If he were a guest on his new morning program, "The Early Show," what question would he ask himself? Gumbel, who takes deserved pride in his chops as an interviewer, laughed. "I say this tongue firmly planted in cheek," he said. "I'd say, 'Gee, you strike me as an affable, fun-loving, easygoing, friendly guy. How come I read these things about you?' " And how would Gumbel the guest answer? "I'd have to say, 'You know what? You gotta ask those people writing'.''

Last week, in a brand-new $30 million studio off Central Park, Bryant Gumbel brought his edgy, some-say-arrogant, some-say-refreshing act back to morning television, a roost where, as co-host of NBC's "Today" show, he ruled for 15 years. Seated beside Jane Pauley, Katie Couric or, briefly, Deborah Norville, he combined easy charm with sometimes brusque smarts in a manner some former colleagues describe as caustic or aloof, but that audiences routinely made No. 1. "Today" is now the sweetest network-owned show on TV, with profits topping $150 million a year. But that was then. Now, at 51, Gumbel is coming off a high-profile flameout in prime time on the short-lived "Public Eye"--"I wouldn't say it failed," he clarified; "it under-performed"--and with a new network, CBS, which hasn't been a player in the breakfast hour since the 1980s. "Our first goal is just to be credible," said Steve Friedman, the show's senior executive producer. "We're not even on the field. We have to get on before we can compete." And Gumbel will have to develop a "Today"-worthy "chemistry"--whatever that is--with a new co-host, a former ABC reporter from Los Angeles named Jane Clayson, 32. In a tone of polished affability, Clayson brushed off the persistent talk that Gumbel was ungenerous in his previous partnership. "He has never once brought up any of that with me," she said. "Old news as far as I'm concerned."

The new show essentially clones the successful format Friedman refined in the 1980s and '90s at the "Today" show: a quick mix of news in the first hour, froth in the second, with a street audience cheering along. Friedman explained the similarity this way: "There are two [morning shows] making hundreds and millions of dollars over the last 20 years, and you expect a network who hasn't done that to come in and say, 'You know what, I'm going to try something different'?''

At a staff meeting in midweek, Friedman, known for his abrupt style as much as his track record, lauded his staff but told them their segments had to be better--as good as NBC's. He encouraged them to watch what Gumbel did with their raw materials and learn from him. Gumbel, who can be truculent, was on his best game, coaxing an uncommonly fluid conversation with Al Gore, and getting Bill Bradley to declare that he would never be Gore's running mate, a line that generated the ever-sought media buzz.

There were also some bumps. The Star tabloid used Tuesday's show to run local ads for its Nov. 9 issue (cover story: WHY BRYANT HATES KATIE). Gumbel dismissed the intrusion. "I think people know what those rags are about," he told NEWSWEEK. "And it wasn't a national ad, so I don't care. Should I?" On Friday Gumbel errantly identified the show as "Today." When the camera cut to the outdoor crowds, an energizing element of "Today" and now "Good Morning America," it often panned a near-empty plaza, despite the free coffee and doughnuts. Clayson, who is new to live TV, was mechanical and seemed underprepared. At the staff meeting, she complained that the hosts' briefing materials were too copious and asked for just the bulleted facts, a contrast to Gumbel's legendarily deep preparation.

These may just be first-week glitches. The deeper challenge--to take on "Today" or "Good Morning America"--isn't even on the screen yet. "The first goal," said Gumbel, "is to stop getting congratulations for not being a disaster." They're halfway there.