Pink Lady Met and Kei with Jeff Altman 1980 (Photo by Ralph Dominguez/MediaPunch via Getty Images)
MediaPunch via Getty Images
At a time when the network variety show was clearly becoming obsolete — The Carol Burnett Show had ended its long run two years earlier, there was no longer a beat for The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour, and there was no more Donny & Marie — NBC had an idea.
The season was 1979–80. The month was March 1980. And the competition in the Friday 10 p.m. hour was a speeding juggernaut named Dallas on CBS, with a movie on ABC. So how do you battle Larry Hagman as that ol’ rascal J.R. Ewing? You tap into international appeal with a variety hour featuring a Japanese female pop group named Pink Lady and pair them with a rising comedian named Jeff Altman. At least that was NBC’s plan.
A promotional still from ‘Dallas’ in 1979. Back row, from left, Patrick Duffy (as Bobby Ewing) (standing), Victoria Principal (as Pamela Barnes Ewing) (in red dress), Barbara Bel Geddes (as Eleanor Southworth ‘Miss Ellie’ Ewing), and Larry Hagman (as John Ross ‘J.R.’ Ewing, Jr.). Front row, from left, Charlene Tilton (as Lucy Ewing), Jim Davis (1909 – 1981) (as John Ross ‘Jock’ Ewing), and Linda Gray (as Sue Ellen Ewing). (Photo by CBS Photo Archive/Getty Images)
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Specifically, Pink Lady — childhood friends Mie (Mitsuyo Nemoto) and Kei (Keiko Masuda) — were wildly popular in Japan, boasting a string of chart-topping singles and a fervent fan base. From 1976 to 1979, they were massive J-Pop stars before attempting to cross over into American television.
When NBC premiered Pink Lady and Jeff, the network was hoping to lure younger viewers not tuning in for the over-the-top scheming on Dallas. Instead, it delivered one of the most notorious flops in television history.
Problem #1: Mie and Kei spoke limited English, forcing them to memorize dialogue phonetically. Their discomfort was evident onscreen, particularly in comedy sketches requiring timing and spontaneity.
Problem #2: Jeff Altman was saddled with broad material that critics widely panned. The show’s format — musical numbers, sketch comedy and guest stars — felt like a relic of another era just as audiences were gravitating toward edgier, serialized fare (particularly the aforementioned Dallas).
Problem #3: At a time when a strong lead-in was imperative, NBC had nothing consistently scheduled in the Friday 9 p.m. ET time period, leaving the 10 p.m. entry without meaningful momentum.
Needless to say, critics were unsparing. Reviews described the series as awkward, unfunny and painfully stilted. The language barrier became a recurring punchline in coverage, though many later acknowledged the performers were placed in an almost impossible situation. Pink Lady’s polished musical performances simply could not compensate for sketches that felt forced and culturally disconnected.
After just five abysmal episodes, NBC pulled the plug. Pink Lady and Jeff quickly became shorthand in industry circles for misguided development — a case study in what happens when concept and execution collide in the worst possible way.
PINK LADY — Episode 103 — Pictured: (l-r) Playboy Playmate Janis Schmitt, unknown, Playboy Playmates Karen Morton, Jeana Tomasino, unknown, Jim Varney as Hugh Hefner, Pink Lady: Mitsuyo Nemoto as Mie and Keiko Masuda as Kei — (Photo by: Ron Tom/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images via Getty Images)
NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images
Fortunately, the failure did not diminish Pink Lady’s legacy in Japan, where they remained a defining pop act of the late 1970s. In the United States, however, the show is still cited alongside other infamous misfires as one of broadcast television’s biggest prime-time stumbles — a high-profile swing that missed by a mile.
Mitsuyo Nemoto aka “Mie” and Keiko Masuda aka “Kei” of Pink Lady attend a party at Yamato, a restaurant in Los Angeles, California, on January 11, 1979. (Photo by Alan Berliner/WWD/Penske Media via Getty Images)
Penske Media via Getty Images
For NBC, star power abroad does not automatically equal crossover success at home. And for television historians, the message was clear. Unlike earlier times when anyone – and everyone – seemed to be hosting a popular variety series, it really was truly the end of an era.