TV Series vs. Movies
I mainlined four more episodes of VERONICA MARS season three last night after I stopped watching election returns, and I realized that by and large I’m far more invested in television shows than in movies. Once in a while I’ll see a film that stuns me, and keeps me thinking about it for days afterward, but that mostly happens with television. Shows like BUFFY and GALACTICA, DEADWOOD, THE WIRE, ROME, JOURNEYMAN, LIFE, etc. etc. etc. Is it because I’m a natural novelist, and I prefer to read novels over short stories? Is it because I want to invest and spend hours with these characters I like? I do think the writing, plotting and storytelling is much more powerful in television than in film. But I’m trying to analyze what else might be at work.
Thoughts?
Melinda
January 10th, 2008 at 4:56 pm
I’ve tried to figure out why I love serialized stuff — be it a TV show or a comic book or a book series like Wild Cards.
I don’t know that I have it nailed down yet, but I do think that the “spending hours with the characters” is key. Not only is it nice to revisit the familiar faces every day/week/month, but that familiarity, I think, allows a greater capacity for surprises. For example, sitcoms that are a couple years in can get a lot of great comedic mileage just by having characters suddenly act in ways contrary to what we’ve become familiar with. (A stupid character says something uncharacteristically intelligent; a macho character has a moment of being fey.)
Chris Claremont shocked a lot of fans back in the ’80s when he made Storm into a mohawk-sporting, leather-wearing punk. The shock value was huge because, by that time, the original Storm had gotten under those readers’ skins by virtue of seven years’ worth of comic-book appearances.
I think there is a certain dramatic rhythm built up by the repetition of serialization — impossible to build up in the compressed timescale of a film — which allows for a much more powerful effect when that rhythm is disrupted. Actually, this doesn’t even have to be done at the level of character — it can be at the level of format as well. The first season of “Alias” has a brilliant turn about halfway through. After ten or so episodes that were quite rigid and by-the-numbers in terms of structure, they let loose with a two-part episode that turned that structure on its ear. It completely messes with the equilibrium of the viewer, and what’s great is that at the end of this epic two-part story, one of the characters reflects upon the events of the story and says gravely, “Things are never going to be the same after this, are they?”
It’s a dramatic sucker-punch to the gut, and it works beautifully because the viewer had been lulled by the repetitive pattern of the first ten episodes into thinking that there were certain implied rules to the show’s format that wouldn’t be broken.
So that’s a big part of it for me, I know: That longitudinal structure of a serialized narrative allows a greater capacity for the story to surprise me. It’s something I never get tired of.
(Another more recent example: There was a certain villain in Wild Cards who seemed like he was going to live forever, and then you went and killed him off like 25 pages into “Inside Straight”! Totally blindsided me, and I loved it!)
January 14th, 2008 at 11:27 am
I’ve been thinking about this since you posted it, and thinking about it a bit before your post because I have also recently been working my way through series (ROME, and now, DEADWOOD). And in thinking about your post I have come to some realizations about my own viewing practices.
I am an avowed film addict; I periodically revisit my favorite films and one of my greatest pleasures is sharing good films with others. Or bad films with like-minded others, who will join me in cleverly shredding this pretender to quality. A well-crafted film is like a well-crafted meal, with courses and sides and drink and interesting conversation. But, just like a pleasant meal, a movie still only lasts about an hour and a half. (Though postprandial digestion may be considered as part of the meal, with later fond recall of the repast.)
But even the best film, a well-crafted one with interesting characters, gripping challenges posed to those characters, and satisfying resolutions to those challenges, is subject to time constraint. And part of that constraint is necessarily limiting the growth a character can experience. A character may have a believable arc,but due to limitations of time that arc is often along only one facet of the character’s character (as it were). This puts movies in the realm of the ode or the epic: the hero is challenged and overcomes, a story the highpoints of which are easy to remember and relate around the fire.
But we are multi-faceted beings. In a series, the characters have time to develop along many parallel personal tracks, just like people in real life. Some of these tracks may seem perpendicular or opposed to facets we had perceived of the character earlier on, which makes for wonderful opportunities for drama and also keeps the viewer engaged and awake. (And, I will say from a more creative and metaphysical perspective, the longer format keeps the *characters* on their toes.) If you were to compact into the film format all of the personality reveals and changes a character experiences in even one season of a series, the result would seem forced and chaotic and unbelievable. But in the longer format of the series the characters are not just allowed but obliged to eventually surprise you, and it seems a natural progression.
I mentioned above that I enjoy sharing films with others. My contemplation of your post has revealed to me an interesting facet of my own character. When I am most in tune with others, most a social creature, I want to share films. When I am a bit lonely, or conversely when I have “had enough” of other people for a while, I watch series by myself, following the character’s lives and changes as I have temporarily wearied of following those of people I actually know. And I said above that characters in series provide surprises; I realize even now as I type this that part of the stimulus for my delving into series are times when I am forced to face that some people I know *cannot* change, will not grow or ever surprise me, no matter how well I come to know them. And if someone will never present you with anything new, why spend time with them? So — series.
Thank you for stimulating this ponderance.
BTW — We just picked up the complete series of TWIN PEAKS. Now *there* is a series to share! If only to have someone to discuss it with afterward…
January 14th, 2008 at 12:27 pm
Related —
I am increasingly impressed with DEADWOOD. What a pleasure it must be to write for characters such as Farnum (and the always-fascinating actor William Sanderson who portrays him), the venal and obsequious but surprisingly complex hotelkeeper. Or Ellsworth — speaking of surprises, how this genial and polite man presents the ferocity of a junkyard dog when brought to righteousness. Wonderful dialogue from another time. Farnum: “In a camp like this, one draws one’s menials from a small and brackish pool.”
In fact, all of the characters are many-layered, like onions. Some you flinch from as they are being peeled and cut, but most of them become more savory the longer they simmer in the muddy soup of Deadwood.