Say My Name- Or Better Yet, Spell It

I was recently considering the fortunes of poor Better Off Ted. Such a good show, yet it can't even seem to muster traction during the summer months while little of worth is being shown on network TV. And I pondered why. My conclusion was that Ted would be better off with a different name.

Here's my hypothesis: Cutesy or clever titles for shows do not make viewers propagate in Peoria. The same guy (Victor Fresco) who is responsible for Ted also created Andy Richter Controls the Universe. Another preciously labeled series that never found significant viewership. Like Ted, it was also a funny and surreal workplace comedy. So, what if it had simply been called The Office? Too late now, that name's taken (for several seasons so far).

Taking a gander at the various popular TV shows over the past twenty years or so, a pattern emerges--simple one word titles or official-sounding initials are best. The highest rated program of the 1990's: E.R. The most popular scripted show of the past decade: C.S.I. By far the most watched comedies of the same period: Friends and Seinfeld.

If you're a network looking for mass market love, short really is sweet. To this day I'm still shocked that a show as refined, urbane, and witty as Frasier was a big hit for so long. But then it wasn't called Frasier Crane: Nutty Radio Doctor.

Heroes' single moniker has somehow reprieved the show through two abysmal seasons. And the executives programming for the summer interim have certainly figured out the formula. What are the shows that are currently recurring again? Monk, and Psych, and Eureka, and Weeds, and Leverage, and (The) Closer are just a few.

Still, success is not exclusively limited by one word or initials. But if the name's longer, it should be bland or indistinct. Think Private Practice, not Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Something like Dirty Sexy Money was doomed from the start. The title made it clear that it was trying too hard--well, the title and every episode of the show.

The New Adventures of Old Christine is an interesting case. It's a show that's been on the bubble at the end of every season since it began. Now CBS seems anxious to rebrand it. In promos the show is only ever referred to as Old Christine or simply, Christine. On the same network, How I Met Your Mother (so cutesy) has endured a slow climb to moderate ratings.

Your title can't be too smart for the room. Pushing Daisies was cunning. The name was code for the occupation of the deceased, but also alluded to the Sisyphean task of loving something you can never touch. It was toast. The wordsmithery behind Arrested Development was better and more elaborate than any title for anything ever. In every episode the Bluth clan exhibited all kinds of infantile and regressive behavior while residing in the unfinished model home that symbolized their S.E.C.-seized real estate business. How this show managed to hang on for three seasons, I'll never know.

The exceptions: a name can be moderately clever if it immediately and succintly explains your show's raison d'etre (minus any double entendre). For example, Desperate Housewives or Ghost Whisperer. Or a name can sound clever but actually be nonsensical: Two and a Half Men.

The name game functions for reality TV, too. In my opinion So You Think You Can Dance is a product superior to American Idol. But the latter's audience dwarfs the former. Why? Well, American Idol sounds iconic, even nationalistic. So You Think You Can Dance sounds like some kids' variety program you would have found on Nickelodeon in 1989.

Let me be clear and say that I'm not endorsing all of this uncomplicated banality. CSI: NY, NCIS: LA, Bones, House, etc... These names are so pointlessly enigmatic that some dullard will very soon suggest a film where Nic Cage searches for treasure using clues from the weekly TV schedule.

Looking ahead to the fall, based on my scientific research, some of the shows that will do well include Trauma, Glee, Modern Family, The Good Wife, and Eastwick. Programs with less happy prospects are Accidentally on Purpose and FlashForward. Also, unfortunately, Cougar Town falls onto its own double-sided petard, by being a show featuring Cougars (a high school football team) and cougars (ladies a little too interested in the high school football team). I hope I'm wrong, as I love me some Courtney Cox (forever the most unfairly under-celebrated Friend). Community is either too twee or just perfect, only time will tell.

The biggest question mark is NBC's five nights a week show merely called Jay Leno. The name means nothing to me, but let's see if he's any better off than Ted.