Top of the Morning: Inside the Cutthroat World of Morning TV by Brian Stelter Page B

decade and a half of their working on the same set—that hurt the most, and, in the words of one staffer, “added up to an ominous feeling about her future at the show.” Among the senior producers, Melissa Lonner was her sole defender as the others fell in line with Bell, whose actions were becoming increasingly heedless and, in the opinion of some, sophomoric. One day he called staffers into his office to chuckle at a verbal gaffe Curry had made during a cross-talk with a local station. More chuckling was heard when, for reasons that went unexplained, several boxes of Curry’s belongings ended up in a coat closet—the sort of thing that would happen when a staffer left in a rush, or was unceremoniously booted off the premises.
    A genuine meanness seemed to color the staff’s attitude toward their troubled colleague, something that looked from certain angles like the giddiness brought on by a sense of doom. One staff member, offended by the behavior, said “a lot of time in the control room was spent making fun of Ann’s outfit choices or just generally messing with her.” On one memorable morning, Curry wore a bright-yellow dress that spawned snarky comparisons to Big Bird. The staffer, who called this day “extra harsh,” said others in the control room Photoshopped a picture of Big Bird next to Curry and asked coworkers for a “Who wore it best?” comparison.
    Given this behavior, it’s not surprising that Curry asked an aide to put together a collection of her best field-reporting clips—what people at the show took to calling her “résumé tape.”
    A strange thing happened at around this time. Despite the dysfunctional nature of the Today family, the senior producers dusted off an old series called “ Today Takes On,” which looked very much like GMA ’s ongoing attempts to demonstrate that its hosts were best buds. In “Takes On” segments the Today hosts would together do things like rowing with the Princeton University crew team and learning how to perform acrobatic feats at a Broadway show. During the latter episode, Curry, Lauer, Roker, and Morales were shown arm in arm, ready to leap off a platform for a finale-like moment. “Don’t let go,” Lauer said to Curry, looking nervous. “I’m not going to let go,” Curry told him confidently. Viewers seemed to like the lighter-than-air segments. But if this exercise in chumminess sounds at odds with Operation Bambi, it wasn’t really—at least if you listened to those well-placed observers who said that the point was to make the seemingly inevitable banishment of Curry look like a game of musical chairs played by dear friends.
    Bell was willing to go to great and complicated lengths to make the Curry “transition” a smooth one. He knew that removing her would inevitably alienate some people who counted themselves her loyal fans. But he believed that if the show, as a result, took a temporary hit in the ratings, the decline would be (if the thing was handled with the appearance of sensitivity) minor, and Today would rebound during the Summer Olympics. Then Bell’s bosses would be pleased, his job would be protected, and the morning show he loved would find its footing again. The Olympics loomed as both his salvation (“a once-every-two-year chance to introduce a new cast,” said one executive) and an immovable deadline. But because Bell wanted Curry to buy into the change, and show the world through her own attitude and actions that she was making a choice for herself, he was willing to wait a week, and then another week, and then another, if that’s what it took, to create the appearance of voluntary movement. In the meantime he told colleagues that Curry seemed unhappy at the show and eager to report more stories in the field. Everything Bell and his lieutenants did during this time was in the cause of “trying to get Ann to a place where she was comfortable with the move,” said an NBC executive.
    But it wasn’t working. Rather