A TRIBUTE TO MICHAEL PILLER

Michael Piller was my partner, my mentor, and my cherished friend, and I am honored to share my experiences of him with all of you here today.

Appropriately, I first met Michael Piller through his words, when I read his movie script "Oversight," a dramatic thriller centered on a sometimes curmudgeonly, irascible protagonist whose quest for the truth often pissed off the powers that be, and the bold young man who gives him renewed faith in his work. Sound familiar?

I was as nervous about our first meeting as any teenager on a first date. I must confess to being an avid, lifelong Star Trek fan - a "Trekkie," if you will. The rub is that I knew that Michael, in a Leonard Nimoy "I am not Spock" kind of way, wanted to go boldly beyond his Trek past. Even so, would it be rude not to even mention his space odyssey in our conversation? Then, lo and behold, Michael walked into my office wearing his "USS Enterprise" baseball cap. Thus began a wonderful friendship and the most creatively rewarding partnership I have ever had.

The kickoff of our collaboration was "The Dead Zone," the story of a young man who has the gift - or the curse - of psychic powers. On the surface, the show would seem to be a classic sci-fi series. However, as envisioned by Michael Piller, it became a soulful tale about a lonely everyman and his quest to discover his destiny. In someone else's hands, this would have been workmanlike genre TV; but Michael insisted on writing from the inside out and making sure that his characters always started from a place of emotional truth.

In fact, it's this insistence on emotional truth that most inspired me about Michael's writing - and the thing I fought hardest to protect in his work. It's how he captured the human heart in a way that was accessible for everyone, and framed with humor, humility and poignancy. Who else could make us feel the touch of a hologram or weep for an android?

Michael never wrote "bad guys" or "good guys." His villains always had redeeming qualities. And his heroes were never pure good: they were conflicted, troubled people who were in need of second chances.

This is especially true of "Wildfire," our latest collaboration, about a young woman from the wrong side of the tracks and her bond with a free spirited horse put out to pasture. This is classic Michael Piller: it's a tale of redemption, of a heroine who is far from perfect but who deserves a second chance. The story of "Wildfire" is also hopelessly romantic - something you'll find in everything Michael wrote or did.

Michael Piller, the true romantic, loved things that made poetry and music. Rhythm. Baseball was like ballet, basketball the embodiment of lyrical athleticism. And let's be honest, Michael's choice of sport, tennis, has the word LOVE as part of its score card.

For those of us who knew him, LOVE was the operative word for Michael. His love of nature's precious gifts, such as the fruit of the vine... its connection to a higher order. Though things could be explained by science, like the alchemy of making wine from grapes, true beauty for Michael came from a deeper understanding. He wondered not at what could be explained . . . but at what could not: Brent's grace as she fluently delivers a lay-up, Shawn's uncanny ability to visualize words off the page, Sandra's strength, and her soulful country twang.

As I said, romantic to the core. Fred and Ginger. Capra and Wilder. Bogart and Bacall. Mantel and Maris. Sinatra and Satchmo. Picard and Sisko. These are but a few of Michael's favorite things. Things that made ME fall in love with him...

As in many romances, our relationship was made of opposites. He was the yin to my yang. With him the glass was half-empty, with me the glass was half-full.

Hence, "tough love" was another of his trademarks. Every day was a challenge from Michael to be better, to pursue excellence. Without compromise. We lived in the world of "The Paper Chase," and he was our John Houseman. I used to get emails like "Pity. These are perfectly serviceable answers to my notes and an inch deep."

Even if it felt like a dose of cold water taken from Lake Michigan in the dead of winter, Michael was simply telling it like it is: the story wasn't working ("I don't buy it."), the script was poorly-crafted ("It's unproduceable"), the story didn't ring true ("This is cheap and quick for undemanding audiences"). And his most well-known standard against which every piece of writing was to be measured: "What's the story ABOUT?"

But, after challenging you to make something better, Michael would then tell you that he loved you, he had faith in you, and he knew that you could rise to the occasion.

Michael demonstrated his feeling for others and their work through his actions. By giving a new writer a break, taking a risk on an unknown team to join his staff, or recommending someone whose work he admired to other show runners around town, many of whom were his proteges.

Though he loved his work, Michael's family was his first love. As fathers of daughters, we often shared stories about "our girls". One of my most poignant memories of Michael was when he and Sandra had invited my oldest daughter Emily and me to one of Brent's games, as he knew I was eager for Emily to see the girl-power of Brent's teamwork. During that particular game, Brent was frustrated by her playing. Michael saw immediately what was going on with Brent. During a quarterly break, Michael, without hesitation, without forcefulness, quietly strolled over to the bench and took a moment alone-just the two of them, Brent and Michael talking together. To this day only those two will know what was said between them, but anyone observing the scene could tell that Michael's words were being absorbed by his daughter through her every pore. Brent's eyes said it all. Her play the next quarter was miraculously lifted. Perhaps, for Brent, Michael Piller will always be the true Zen coach.

One of the greatest gifts of my partnership with Michael is his multi-talented son and collaborator, Shawn. I think the essence of Piller Squared is captured in their animated logo, which has Michael and Shawn in voiceover arguing: "Yes" "No" "Yes" "No" -"You're grounded!" Now, picture me, in between the two of them, and you can imagine what an extraordinary creative process I got to experience firsthand. And, with only partial hearing loss-I'm pleased to report.

All kidding aside, what Michael was most proud of were the testimonials of studio and network executives, cast and crew alike, who marveled at Shawn's ability to take the reins of leadership in his absence. I am proud and privileged to call Shawn my partner, my friend, and my brother.

Sandra, Michael may have been the words, but you were his music. And the barometer for his emotional truth. If an episode didn't make Sandra cry, Michael would say, "Back to the editing room!" On the other hand, if Sandra shed tears, Michael knew the episode would be an audience pleaser. So, while the industry spends a fortune consulting Neilsen ratings and focus groups, Michael had his secret weapon: Sandra Piller.

To Sandra, to Shawn, to Brent, to his grandson, Ryan - and to all those who come here to honor and celebrate Michael Piller - my words cannot begin to truly convey the depth of my admiration, respect, and love for this great man. What we had together was extraordinary.

Michael was one of the lucky ones. He got to do what he loved best every day of his life. On his own terms. As difficult as his loss is, we are all - everyone in this room - the lucky ones for having known him.

I am blessed for having been one of the lucky ones. And I will do my best-which is no less than Michael asked of me-together with all those whom he has touched, to keep his truth alive.

- Lloyd Segan
Executive Producer