Break out the cocktails — it's Death March time

There's no substitute for being there.

This especially applies to the Television Critics Association summer press tour, which kicks off Tuesday and runs through Aug. 8 in Los Angeles. The annual gathering of networks and cable channels presenting their wares and answering for past mistakes in front of TV critics and writers from around the country and Canada is a chance to cut through hype with a little more clarity than one might muster from a distance.

In a news release, you can't hear desperation. In printed material summarizing the premise of a series, you can't get to the essential detail — that the writers have no idea where they're going.

And even if you're a TV critic or writer who can easily get some of the top network officials on the phone without much trouble, there's something about their honesty after a few drinks that cuts through the spin like nothing else.

That's where the true value of the "Death March with Cocktails" resides. Every day, all day, there's an opportunity to glean something you might not from a distance.

The press tour is a wonderful mixture of content saturation, surprise discoveries, droning presentations, booze-fueled revelations, open-air bitching between rival network heads and many interesting news items. All in one hotel.

This summer, the tour switches back to Pasadena after a long summer stay in Beverly Hills. Not much else is likely to change. The days are structured mostly the same: Panels (ranging in length from 30 to 45 minutes) featuring new and returning shows, the series' creators and cast, and the entire network or cable channel power hierarchy on the sidelines, go on from roughly 9 a.m. until 6 p.m. There's usually a short break before an evening party. Sometimes there's a pre-party. Often there's a post-party. And there's always the hotel bar.

The really good stuff usually comes out after 10 p.m. Sometimes there's a chance encounter in the halls. Sometimes you can pull up a chair in the bar and talk to network anchors, head writers of wonderful sitcoms, beleaguered programmers and suddenly more forthcoming stars.

You can't really get that from your desk.

I've had network presidents tell me precisely when they are going to cancel series they just touted 12 hours earlier. I've learned about the machinations of certain shows and certain cable channels that end up serving me for a full season. In turn, I've been accosted by network heads upset at my scathing reviews. I've been yelled at by heads of both comedy and drama development departments about allegedly cruel treatment.

Sussing out buzz on fall shows is also part of the job at the press tour, though this is not an infallible process. In addition to the little late-party gems that can be obtained, sometimes sitting through a humdrum discussion of a new drama or comedy can be revealing in all kinds of ways.

If the series creators can't articulate a vision for their show, you know it's in trouble. Sometimes, having seen the series pilot (and hating it), a good session can bolster hopes. Many times creators will talk about mistakes they made and intelligently present course corrections that can motivate critics to hang in there past the first or second episodes.