(no subject)
Nov. 10th, 2008 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupBusy morning was busy -- I had to rescue about eighteen things from certain doom at the hands of Friday's temp -- but I think I've put out all the fires now.
So, as promised, here is the rant! Sam addresses television writing without any formal training other than watching a lot of teevee and being reasonably clever.
Vague spoilers for Heroes all seasons and the final episode of Life on Mars.
Here's the thing.
I'm not going to speak to foreign television networks because I don't know how they function, but American television is subsidised primarily by advertising and subject to public whim, so if something is a hit the networks will try to make it go as far as they can regardless of how far it should go. Case in point: The X-Files, which should have been taken off the air much sooner than it was. Did y'all know ER is still on? No, because nobody watches it, because the plots are shit. Buffy the Vampire Slayer barely limped along in the last few seasons because it missed its natural end. Joss Whedon is a bright spark so he managed to keep it rolling, more or less, but the weakness in the storyline after Buffy left high school was clearly visible.
I don't know, but I suspect, that this is the problem Lost suffered from: it was a huge hit, and all of a sudden the people who make the stories realised oh fuck, we're gonna have to do a billion seasons of this. It tamps down the instinct to write a whole story, and instead encourages fragments -- bits of story that don't matter because there's no longer a central unifying force. There can't be; if you don't know when a story's going to end you can't write towards that end with any confidence at all. After all, once you've given the big reveal, what's left?
Heroes S1 was brilliant because there was an axis, there was an event we were led to with careful intent. Heroes became a hit because the storytelling was fucking awesome. There was an active and foreshadowed climax and every character's actions for good or ill hinged on this event. We loved to watch these characters meeting and working and parting because we saw how their moral reactions influenced where they would be standing when New York went nuclear. Plus, everything they did told us just a little bit more about What Was Going To Happen Next.
With season two, because all of a sudden Heroes is the It Show, we see a much less dynamic plotline. The virus was doable, it's something that still could work after New York failed to explode, but more importantly, for the network, it was expandable. The hunt for the virus was an ongoing series of events that could take twists and turns as needed for the season rather than for the story. There was no culminating climax and I venture to state that even if there had been a full season there wouldn't have been anything like the Event that carried S1 along. It was easy to tie up season two seamlessly because season two's arc was weak to start with.
Season three, we don't even get a virus -- just a formula that the Company actually had no good reason not to destroy completely. Season three's entire arc is based on a plot hole that didn't even need to be there because Mohinder was already developing a formula. But it's a useful arc because there can always be secrets within secrets. Need a new twist? No problem! Want to bring a new character in or revive a dead one? Why not! It removes the ability to foreshadow, it removes the beautiful orchestration we saw in S1, because every foreshadowing is one more thing you have to remember with every twist and secret-within-secret. We see this pretty clearly when we see Angela Petrelli say "I know, it had to be done" after Nathan is shot, and then later discover she knew NOTHING ABOUT NATHAN GETTING SHOT. I suspect this, I suspect it very much, of being a continuity error.
A fluid story with no bottom to it cripples the plot into pointless little scenes that nobody cares about. The viewers get jaded because the viewers know when they're not being told a complete story. We're being strung along and we don't like it.
This is why I wrote the Hiatus Continuations in the way I did, though I don't know that I was conscious of it at the time. Hiatus Continuations had a resolution that left little room for continued dramatic action because it was a finished story. Far more than I wanted a happy ending, I wanted to tie up a story that depended on a single event. Once that event occurred (Peter blowing up New York -- or, in my version, Sylar blowing up Trinity) there was no point in moving forward.
In a plot-driven show like Heroes if you don't have a dynamic unifying arc then it all devolves into bullshit. And that's what was really bothering me about the "event" of S2 -- not that there wasn't one world-ending event but that there was and it wasn't a very good one. Someone pointed out to me that Doctor Who always has a single build-to event for the season as well, and I couldn't figure out why that didn't bother me, but it's because Who's events are always action-oriented and well-defined; they write each season of Doctor Who like it's going to be the last season they do, like they have to give the viewers some completion. Torchwood, on the other hand, doesn't have a single unifying arc, but it's not trying for one -- it's unabashedly episodic, purely character-driven. When it does arcs, as in the end episodes of season one, it makes sure that they're planned and executed with a complete story in mind.
This is what drove me fucking nuts about Studio Sixty, because I could see all these beautiful, energetic, active plot arcs being installed and then instead of a follow-up of any of them we got Harrie Prays Ostentatiously, Part XVIII.
Two shining examples of encapsulated television arc-writing are Life On Mars and Babylon 5. Babylon 5 set the gold standard for intelligent scifi in the nineties: it was preplanned as a five year series from the beginning and every action, every reaction, every event instigated by the characters was guided by that vision. I will say that it failed in the end, but part of the reason it failed was that the plug got pulled after the fourth season and then reinstalled with a major player missing, and there just wasn't much they could do with what was left. Season four rocked my world and the ending was perfect; I'm still of the opinion that JMS should have said "fuck you" when they gave him the opportunity to do a season five.
Life on Mars was intended to be two very short seasons and then an end, and it is a gem of a piece because it stuck to that. I might have issues with its social philosophy, but I have not a single argument to make with the quality of its storytelling. It is the perfect story and I am deeply bitter that Ashes to Ashes told us what happened to Sam Tyler, because nobody needed to know that. Sam Tyler got his story's ending; don't feed me a second ending for him, especially not that pathetic excuse for a second ending, not after the gorgeous first one you gave me. Love or hate the ending of Life On Mars, you have to admit it was a moment of impact.
I'm not going to apologise for that pun, by the way.
Heroes lost me because it's no longer the show I signed on for. I signed on for a story where each reveal has real significance and each action taken by any character is tied into something bigger than Mohinder being a dumbass and Claire being grossly incompetent at everything she does.
Rex Stout, via Nero Wolfe, said that "maintaining integrity as a private detective is difficult; to preserve it for the hundred thousand words of a book would be impossible for me, as it has been for so many others. Nothing corrupts a man so deeply as writing a book; the myriad temptations are overpowering." I can't say that I'd do any better in Tim Kring's shoes -- give me money to write stories for the next ten years and I'd have a hard time saying no. But I'd like to think I've reached a point where I can choose correctly between telling a good story that ends sooner than people would like, and telling a bad story that never ends at all.
Okay. I feel better now.
Post-diatribe notes:
1. Obviously, if there is wank, directed either at me or at fellow commenters, this post will lock so fast you'll hear the bolts being thrown yesterday.
2. This is, I think, going to generate a lot of thinky, and I encourage thinky. However, it's going to generate a lot of thinky in my inbox. If I don't reply, it's not because I'm ignoring you or think you haven't got a point. It's that OH MY GOD MY INBOX.
These warnings always turn out to be supremely unnecessary, but I know the one time I don't give them, something evil's going to happen.
So, as promised, here is the rant! Sam addresses television writing without any formal training other than watching a lot of teevee and being reasonably clever.
Vague spoilers for Heroes all seasons and the final episode of Life on Mars.
The Story Is All
or
OKAY LET'S TAKE A BREAK FOR SOME META.
or
OKAY LET'S TAKE A BREAK FOR SOME META.
Here's the thing.
I'm not going to speak to foreign television networks because I don't know how they function, but American television is subsidised primarily by advertising and subject to public whim, so if something is a hit the networks will try to make it go as far as they can regardless of how far it should go. Case in point: The X-Files, which should have been taken off the air much sooner than it was. Did y'all know ER is still on? No, because nobody watches it, because the plots are shit. Buffy the Vampire Slayer barely limped along in the last few seasons because it missed its natural end. Joss Whedon is a bright spark so he managed to keep it rolling, more or less, but the weakness in the storyline after Buffy left high school was clearly visible.
I don't know, but I suspect, that this is the problem Lost suffered from: it was a huge hit, and all of a sudden the people who make the stories realised oh fuck, we're gonna have to do a billion seasons of this. It tamps down the instinct to write a whole story, and instead encourages fragments -- bits of story that don't matter because there's no longer a central unifying force. There can't be; if you don't know when a story's going to end you can't write towards that end with any confidence at all. After all, once you've given the big reveal, what's left?
Heroes S1 was brilliant because there was an axis, there was an event we were led to with careful intent. Heroes became a hit because the storytelling was fucking awesome. There was an active and foreshadowed climax and every character's actions for good or ill hinged on this event. We loved to watch these characters meeting and working and parting because we saw how their moral reactions influenced where they would be standing when New York went nuclear. Plus, everything they did told us just a little bit more about What Was Going To Happen Next.
With season two, because all of a sudden Heroes is the It Show, we see a much less dynamic plotline. The virus was doable, it's something that still could work after New York failed to explode, but more importantly, for the network, it was expandable. The hunt for the virus was an ongoing series of events that could take twists and turns as needed for the season rather than for the story. There was no culminating climax and I venture to state that even if there had been a full season there wouldn't have been anything like the Event that carried S1 along. It was easy to tie up season two seamlessly because season two's arc was weak to start with.
Season three, we don't even get a virus -- just a formula that the Company actually had no good reason not to destroy completely. Season three's entire arc is based on a plot hole that didn't even need to be there because Mohinder was already developing a formula. But it's a useful arc because there can always be secrets within secrets. Need a new twist? No problem! Want to bring a new character in or revive a dead one? Why not! It removes the ability to foreshadow, it removes the beautiful orchestration we saw in S1, because every foreshadowing is one more thing you have to remember with every twist and secret-within-secret. We see this pretty clearly when we see Angela Petrelli say "I know, it had to be done" after Nathan is shot, and then later discover she knew NOTHING ABOUT NATHAN GETTING SHOT. I suspect this, I suspect it very much, of being a continuity error.
A fluid story with no bottom to it cripples the plot into pointless little scenes that nobody cares about. The viewers get jaded because the viewers know when they're not being told a complete story. We're being strung along and we don't like it.
This is why I wrote the Hiatus Continuations in the way I did, though I don't know that I was conscious of it at the time. Hiatus Continuations had a resolution that left little room for continued dramatic action because it was a finished story. Far more than I wanted a happy ending, I wanted to tie up a story that depended on a single event. Once that event occurred (Peter blowing up New York -- or, in my version, Sylar blowing up Trinity) there was no point in moving forward.
In a plot-driven show like Heroes if you don't have a dynamic unifying arc then it all devolves into bullshit. And that's what was really bothering me about the "event" of S2 -- not that there wasn't one world-ending event but that there was and it wasn't a very good one. Someone pointed out to me that Doctor Who always has a single build-to event for the season as well, and I couldn't figure out why that didn't bother me, but it's because Who's events are always action-oriented and well-defined; they write each season of Doctor Who like it's going to be the last season they do, like they have to give the viewers some completion. Torchwood, on the other hand, doesn't have a single unifying arc, but it's not trying for one -- it's unabashedly episodic, purely character-driven. When it does arcs, as in the end episodes of season one, it makes sure that they're planned and executed with a complete story in mind.
This is what drove me fucking nuts about Studio Sixty, because I could see all these beautiful, energetic, active plot arcs being installed and then instead of a follow-up of any of them we got Harrie Prays Ostentatiously, Part XVIII.
Two shining examples of encapsulated television arc-writing are Life On Mars and Babylon 5. Babylon 5 set the gold standard for intelligent scifi in the nineties: it was preplanned as a five year series from the beginning and every action, every reaction, every event instigated by the characters was guided by that vision. I will say that it failed in the end, but part of the reason it failed was that the plug got pulled after the fourth season and then reinstalled with a major player missing, and there just wasn't much they could do with what was left. Season four rocked my world and the ending was perfect; I'm still of the opinion that JMS should have said "fuck you" when they gave him the opportunity to do a season five.
Life on Mars was intended to be two very short seasons and then an end, and it is a gem of a piece because it stuck to that. I might have issues with its social philosophy, but I have not a single argument to make with the quality of its storytelling. It is the perfect story and I am deeply bitter that Ashes to Ashes told us what happened to Sam Tyler, because nobody needed to know that. Sam Tyler got his story's ending; don't feed me a second ending for him, especially not that pathetic excuse for a second ending, not after the gorgeous first one you gave me. Love or hate the ending of Life On Mars, you have to admit it was a moment of impact.
I'm not going to apologise for that pun, by the way.
Heroes lost me because it's no longer the show I signed on for. I signed on for a story where each reveal has real significance and each action taken by any character is tied into something bigger than Mohinder being a dumbass and Claire being grossly incompetent at everything she does.
Rex Stout, via Nero Wolfe, said that "maintaining integrity as a private detective is difficult; to preserve it for the hundred thousand words of a book would be impossible for me, as it has been for so many others. Nothing corrupts a man so deeply as writing a book; the myriad temptations are overpowering." I can't say that I'd do any better in Tim Kring's shoes -- give me money to write stories for the next ten years and I'd have a hard time saying no. But I'd like to think I've reached a point where I can choose correctly between telling a good story that ends sooner than people would like, and telling a bad story that never ends at all.
Okay. I feel better now.
Post-diatribe notes:
1. Obviously, if there is wank, directed either at me or at fellow commenters, this post will lock so fast you'll hear the bolts being thrown yesterday.
2. This is, I think, going to generate a lot of thinky, and I encourage thinky. However, it's going to generate a lot of thinky in my inbox. If I don't reply, it's not because I'm ignoring you or think you haven't got a point. It's that OH MY GOD MY INBOX.
These warnings always turn out to be supremely unnecessary, but I know the one time I don't give them, something evil's going to happen.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 05:47 pm (UTC)And to link it to a show I *do* watch: I think House can't decide which it wants.
I'd continue, but now I have to do actual work at work. Oh dear.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 06:29 pm (UTC)This season has been better about it, but in the past it was like the Plot writers did a mini-arc then passed it back to the Formula writers, who immediately forgot any potentially character-changing developments and went back to the beginning.
I love House immensely, and I was glad to see them change things up with the new team.
I don't watch Bones but am starting to feel like I ought to.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 06:59 pm (UTC)I highly recommend Bones. I really enjoy watching House; I LOVE Bones.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 06:34 pm (UTC)