Low-intensity, high involement? McLuhan and "Marty"

This week, I screened two classic dramas from the Criterion Collection's Golden Age of Television set for my History of Broadcasting class.  The programs come from the era when many programs were devoted to the live broadcasts of dramatic stories written by top writers mostly out of New York: Rod Serling, Gore Vidal, Reginald Rose, Paddy Chayefsky, and others who were afforded the status of playwrights for their work.  Most of the programs took their titles from the sponsors: General Electric Theater, Kraft Television Theater, etc.   (A few titles didn't have sponsor names in them, like Playhouse 90.) 

One of my purposes was to examine the reading materials to consider why these programs were so highly regarded: the critical reception came mainly from New York also, where critics of drama are so influential in the "legitimate" theater.  Also, the "essence" of television, so the critics claimed, was its power as a live medium; radio dramas had been successful that way, and that continued with the new video-broadcast medium.  

But as I showed them the Philco-Goodyear Television Playhouse broadcast of Marty, the iconic Chayefsky play directed by Delbert Mann and starring Rod Steiger in the title role, something else fascinated me.    Despite the so-so quality of the video projection in the classroom, which also affected the sound badly enough that I had to put the subtitles on at one point, the students responded viscerally to Marty's story, verbally expressing their responses to Marty's sensitivity by oohing and aw-ing.   Ok, yes, of course I want them to be moved by this story of a plain-looking guy who meets a plain-looking girl and sees at least a spark of hope in his lonely life (and realize the depth of dramatic characterization even in the supporting characters, especially Marty's mother). And yes, part of the appeal of Marty is in Chayefsky's beautiful script, which is tv's version of French Poetic Realism and German kammerspiel .   Who can argue with such beautiful dilalogue as:

so, whaddayuh wanna do tonight Marty?
I dunno, Angie. What do you wanna do?

But in reviewing the crucial -- and longest -- chapter from Understanding Media, I began to re-think what McLuhan means by referring to the television medium as a high-participant one.  

The film image -- quality, 35- or 70mm stuff, Panavision, whatever -- is a hot medium, high intensity, high-definition. The viewer of film does not have to "fill in" any missing spaces to comprehend the film image.  Television, made up of electronic dots being scanned across the screen, is much more akin to the pointillism paintings of artists like Seurat.  The audience has to fill in the dots.  TV, as a cool, participant medium, requires more in-depth involvement to create the message.  And I wonder, when considering the tv version of Marty, I would try to note the ways that my students became involved in the medium, not just the story of this lonely butcher.  

I have been questioning McLuhan's propositions about the tv medium, though I do understand it to varying degrees.   My students' response to Marty tells me I have to be careful not to dismiss the medium.