Back at Emerson, 'Friends' producer Bright teaches the art of the sitcom

Kevin Bright, for 10 years an executive producer of NBC’s long-running megahit ‘‘Friends,’’ has a lot of strong opinions about what’s wrong with television sitcoms today.

‘‘We’re in a bad place,’’ he maintains. ‘‘Since ‘Will & Grace,’ I haven’t seen one original idea on network TV.’’

But rather than go on about his share of the blame — his ‘‘Friends’’ spinoff ‘‘Joey’’ was cancelled eight months ago — Bright prefers to fix things by instructing a new generation of sitcom makers in the art of what’s funny.

The director and producer has returned to his alma mater, Emerson College, this fall as a visiting professor.

‘‘I want to get back to people who love television, instead of dealing with people who are trying to make money off of it,’’ says the 1976 graduate and member of the Emerson board of trustees. ‘‘I still have an agent. I’ve still been getting scripts. But I’m going to be very particular about my next project. I’m in a very blessed place. I can work, or not.’’

For now, the professor is consumed teaching a course on directing comedy for television. He’s also serving as faculty adviser for two sketch comedy pilots being developed for Emerson’s TV outlet, the Emerson Channel.

‘‘We’re doing two shows with a $14,000 budget,’’ he says. ‘‘This doesn’t pay for lunch for my crew in Los Angeles but that’s what they have, so we’re making it work.’’

For students like Joseph Mancuso, a senior from North Brunswick, N.J., learning from Bright about potential day-to-day production problems is a rare opportunity. Already, the professor has brought in department heads from ‘‘Friends’’ to discuss lighting, set dressing, and props. Todd Holland, the director from ‘‘Malcolm in the Middle,’’ is coming next month.

‘‘I’m the biggest ‘Friends’ fan ever. I could quote every episode,’’ says Mancuso. ‘‘When I heard Kevin was coming, I jumped on the class. This is what I want to do, direct dramas and sitcoms.’’

Mancuso, 21, hasn’t wasted any time getting to know Bright. In fact, he visits his Back Bay apartment sometimes three nights a week. There, groups of students gather to critique scripts and come up with better jokes, all while munching on pizza or sandwiches courtesy of Bright.

‘‘Kevin wants people to ask questions,’’ says Mancuso. ‘‘At first, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Now I know, if you work hard, he will help you get to the next level. I’m going to [Emerson’s] Los Angeles campus next semester and I hope to stay in touch with him. I hope to work with him again.’’

Bright has no intention of using his influence to get students Hollywood jobs. ‘‘I wouldn’t do that,’’ he says. Instead, he’s pushing them to find their own way.

The process hasn’t been easy. The comedy ideas presented so far have surprised Bright at times. ‘‘In the beginning, there were a lot of domestic social situations where people were yelling at each other. It was weird.

‘‘I think now they understand that nuance and subtlety can be far funnier than a guy who is screaming at you.’’

The students have also made Bright scratch his head with some of their pop culture observations, like a spoof on Al Gore’s environmental documentary ‘‘An Inconvenient Truth.’’ In one scene, a student says, ‘‘That bathroom won’t clean itself, mister.’’

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‘‘That is an inconvenient truth,’’ Bright quips. ‘‘Coming from the ’60s, my sensibility of what is great and smart comedy is very different. I like things that have something to say about society. A few times this semester, I’ve had to say ‘OK, that’s the way it is. This comedy is about people in situations that are familiar to them and people their age. I’m not plugged in.’.’’

Walking around the student set recently, the bespectacled, spiky-haired Bright is tough on his students. On this day, the actors are doing a full-dress rehearsal of a skit about a sober funeral turned festive party.

After noticing an unattended camera slowly rolling across the set, Bright snaps, ‘‘Hey, lock those wheels please.’’ After waiting in vain for a student to bring him a vacuum cleaner to tidy up the set, Bright grows impatient. ‘‘Did we ever find that vacuum?’’ After a student points to the back of the room, Bright says, ‘‘Whenever a director asks for something, bring it to him directly.’’

Later, he stops an actor after he fumbles trying to open his coat during what is supposed to be a funny moment. ‘‘Here’s the thing, you can’t stand there because you’re off the set. Give me the jacket.’’ Bright demonstrates how he wants the jacket ripped open. ‘‘Your energy is way too low,’’ he advises.

Finally, he asks executive producer Danny Zack, a junior from Framingham, if Zack is recording the audio on two different tracks.

‘‘It can’t be done,’’ Zack replies.

‘‘Why not?’’ asks Bright, adding, ‘‘Find the tech person.’’

Although Zack looks overwhelmed, he tells a visitor that his career ambition is to direct a multi-camera sitcom, awards show, or news program. ‘‘I’m trying to stay as calm as possible,’’ he says in a low voice. ‘‘It’s a little stressful.’’

Bright knows all about stress. This time last year he was under intense pressure to turn around ratings for ‘‘Joey,’’ the sitcom starring Matt LeBlanc as Joey Tribbiani. In its first season, the show averaged 10.2 million viewers but last season ratings were 7.1 million.

Bright says NBC executives, the studio, and other producers collaborated and quickly ruined the show. ‘‘On ‘Friends,’ Joey was a womanizer, but we enjoyed his exploits. He was a solid friend, a guy you knew you could count on,’’ Bright says. ‘‘Joey was deconstructed to be a guy who couldn’t get a job, couldn’t ask a girl out. He became a pathetic, mopey character. I felt he was moving in the wrong direction but I was not heard.’’

‘‘Joey’’ concluded on March 7. Although LeBlanc is Bright’s best friend (the producer brought him for a campus visit Nov. 3), Bright says he was relieved when the 12-year ‘‘Friends’’ saga ended. ‘‘I needed the rest. I worked 60 to 80 hours a week and my life kind of crept by me,’’ says Bright, who turned 52 this month.

‘‘I wanted to take time to recharge,’’ he adds. ‘‘I thought about Emerson and a professor [the late Daniel Lounsbery] who single-handedly was responsible for me having great insight into the professional side of television before I left college. He was the greatest mentor and we stayed in touch for years.’’

Given the state of the sitcom, Bright isn’t sure what to tell his students about landing a job. The reality? ‘‘A lot of people go to school for television production,’’ he says. ‘‘Very few get far.’’

His Emerson students, he hopes, will be the exception.

Suzanne Ryan can be reached at sryan@globe.com. She blogs at boston.com/ae/tv/blog.