William Link and Richard Levinson formed one of the most notable writing and producing teams in the history of U.S. television. Working in both series and made-for-television movie forms, they moved easily from what they considered light entertainment to the exploration of serious and immensely complicated social problems. Their collaboration was of much longer standing than even their television careers suggest, for they had begun to work together in the early years of high school in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Even at that time the two wrote plays together, inspired by radio dramas, which they frequently recorded. After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and completing service in the U.S. Army, they quickly formed an adult partnership that was to last until Levinson's death in 1987. Intent upon building a career in television, they followed the migration of talent to California in 1960 and were quickly identified for their talents.

After almost ten years of working with series television, the "boys," as they were identified by Martin Sheen, who often starred in their movies, began to explore "social issues." It may have begun with their questions regarding the violence of television shows such as Mannix, their own creation. As Link put it in an interview, "Dick and I did not know whether television violence had an effect or not, but we just decided we were not going to do that kind of writing anymore.'' Columbo was the natural answer. In Link's words, "It portrayed a bloodless murder followed by a cat-and­-mouse game. Columbo was a meat-and-potatoes cop who brought down the rich and famous."

The partners made these social concerns explicit in the character of Ira Davidson, central figure in their made-for-television movie The Storyteller (1977). In that piece, Davidson, a television writer, engages his producer in a debate about TV violence. The producer questions the writer's deletion of violent scenes from his original treatment. Davidson replies that he could tell the story just as well without vehicular mayhem. The producer then accuses him of acquiring a conscience just when nonviolence was fashionable and insists he does not want the Parent Teachers Association or anyone else telling him what kind of television to make. He wants to use violence when it works for the plot without interference from the network. Ira responds, "Agreed." Surprised, the producer says, "Agreed? But I thought   " Ira ends the discussion by stating, "I was telling you what I am going to do. What you do is your business."

Discussing those social dramas, Link commented, "The best things come to you-they fall into your hand or you see a human life situation like That Certain Summer-and you say that would make a good drama. It's hard to begin by saying, 'Let's do a social drama.' These things just occur to you." Link's philosophy of filmmaking is summed up in remarks he made in the early 1980s:

In the films where we have serious intentions, we tend to understate. This comes from a feeling that if you're going to deal with subjects such as homosexuality, or race relations, or gun control, you should show some aesthetic restraint and not wallow in these materials like a kid who's permitted to write dirty words on a wall. Our approach is that if you're going to use these controversis I subjects-play against them. Don't be so excited b·t your freedom that you go for the obvious. The danger, cf course, is that sometimes you get so muted that you boil out the drama. In The Storyteller we were so concerned with being fair and with balance that we lost energy and dramatic impact.

When Link spoke movingly about Levinson upon their induction into the Television Hall of Fame in 1995, the extremely difficult task of admitting to himself that there was no longer "Link and Levinson" was completed. Even as he oversaw the final production of the made-for-television movie United States v. Salaar.i Ajami (aired as Hostile Witness, I 988), that fact perhaps led to reviving a story idea Levinson had rejected. Link wrote and produced The Boys (1991), dealing with a writing partnership in which one man smokes., while the other informs his colleague that he has contracted cancer from secondhand cigarette smoke. Her;! was a social drama on two levels. While not strictly autobiographical, the drama was surely related to individual experience. Levinson smoked heavily during  most of his adult years, and the practice most probably shortened his life. The Boys, then, was personal, but it also dealt with a real social issue.

After Levinson's death, Link remained active as a writer-producer at Universal, working on new stories for Columbo. By continuing to hold on to the producer credit, he held creative control over the words. As Link expressed it in an interview:

We produce for two reasons. One is to protect the material. And the second is that we've discovered that producing is an extension of writing. The day before they're going to shoot it, you walk on a set designed for a character you've written. You say to the art director, "The man we've written would not have these paintings. He would not have that dreadful object sitting there. It's much too cluttered for a guy of his sensibilities. So clean out the set. ... " We created that person as a character. We're also interested in how it's extended.

     In the late 1980s, Link served as supervising executive producer of The ABC Mystery Movie. Leaving Universal in 1991, he became executive producer and writer for The Cosby Mysteries on NBC. He also became an actor in the series when Bill Cosby insisted on casting him as a saxophone instructor for Cosby's character. Appearing infrequently, Link was a natural for the part.

     William Link has a lively sense of humor and frequently employs it to assail what he perceives as the current decay of the industry he loves. He is an avid reader of mysteries, extremely knowledgeable concerning music and cinema, and an active collector of Latin American art. He and his wife, Margery Link, live surrounded by the collection.