Come the evening and audiences across Pakistan settle down for some hours in front of the telly. Flicking through the options, they may pause at one of the many Urdu-language entertainment, music and news channels, watch a few scenes and then change the channel with mumbled comments of “terrible quality.” Or, if the programme commands attention, it may hold their attention for the ten-odd minutes broadcast before the advertisements cut in even, unbelievably, before news headlines. A dozen ads later, they will have lost interest and will be convinced more than ever that the standard of local programming is going from bad to worse.

Unfortunately, it is a fact that as Pakistan’s television channels multiply, so deepens the perception that quality is declining at an equal rate, particularly in entertainment programming. Arguably news programming, particularly the increasingly popular talk show format, is in many ways easier and cheaper to do when the priority is filling the airwaves rather than producing true quality – but that subject I’ll leave for later. In terms of the entertainment programming, however, critics point to poor scripts, sloppy direction and low production values, comparing the fare on Indus Vision or ARY Digital, for example, with non-Pakistani channels such as Star World or the Comedy Channel.

Is this comparison even fair? A great number of professional writers for local programming think not, arguing that in other parts of the world, a panel of writers works in close association with the director and producer to come up with a single episode. It is quite possible that the perception of quality loss can be blamed to some extent on the effects of globalisation – there can be few points of comparison between Pakistani or other programming given that the local industry as it exists now is barely over ten years old. Pakistan’s entertainment television industry is still in its nascent years and lacks sufficiently trained writers, directors, lightmen, cameramen and editors etc.

Then, it is worth pondering whether the perceived quality of productions past, such as PTV’s ‘Andhera Ujala’, ‘Tanhaiyaan’ and ‘Alif Noon’, is the result of a certain sort of nostalgia and romanticism. Given the sheer volume of the programming on the air today, perhaps the good productions are simply drowned out. On the seven major Urdu-language entertainment channels, for example, seven different shows are broadcast every night during just the prime time slot. In other words, viewers choose from a list of 49 different prime-time programmes every week, and this does not include sitcoms, soaps, independent series or mysteries. So are viewers even noticing the praiseworthy productions?

That said, however, much of the programming on air today displays a palpably increasing drop in aesthetic and technical standards. This can be traced to two major factors, that of finances and of sudden expansion. The constraints within which programming is produced, particularly by private production companies, are such that a certain loss of quality is virtually inevitable.

A core issue is that the television industry grew faster than people were trained. Opportunities for employment became available too fast and as a result, people are today making their mistakes on air instead of in the classroom. The hard reality is that the entertainment industry has to produce enough material to fill the airwaves round the clock, in a country where until recently, it was impossible to get formal training for anything from screen-play writing to acting or lighting and camerawork.

Compounding this problem is that of low pay-scales. On the average, the director of a privately produced 25-minute programme is paid 10,000 to 15,000 rupees per episode, which is abysmally low given what the channels earn in revenue as well as the 24-hour nature of the director’s job – which includes everything from working with the script writer to getting the actors on set and fixing the editing. Payments for actors, writers and technicians are even lower. Quality is bound to suffer when someone being paid 12,000 rupees is editing a production worth two crores. And, furthermore, because the channels often refuse to pay fair prices for the software, production houses are forced to cut corners on sets, costumes, light and post-production work. Most of the private production houses are very small and given the investment they have on the line, they are anxious to sell. An expensive programme will often not find a buyer. One of the results of the low pay-scales is that that everyone in the industry has to aggressively multitask and therefore cannot develop the focus and concentration that comes with exclusive projects. To take a scripting example, quality has to do with the amount of work a writer is handling. A person focussing on one or two projects at a time is likely to turn in better quality. Someone who must juggle five in order to earn the same amount of money will end up stretching himself too thin. Similarly, if an actor is doing three different sitcoms a week in relatively similar roles, how much distinctiveness can he bring to the characters?

Low pay-scales combined with a large industry mean that professionals take on a number of projects simultaneously in order to make ends meet. In this situation, the loss of quality is virtually inevitable. Great power is wielded by channels’ marketing departments and in may cases, an unusual idea or one that does not boast a star cast is often rejected because the marketing people want a product that advertisers are certain to zero in on. As a result, many original ideas and credible concepts are lost.

If we are to reverse this trend, it is essential that channels review their payment policies and focus on quality content. Channel owners must themselves take an interest and monitor the quality of the programmes aired, while a formal pay-scale must be developed so that minimum remuneration amounts are set according to the seniority of actors, writers or directors.

— hmumtaz@dawn.com