The Future is Now. Welcome fellow viewers and voyeurs. On February 1,
2013, the online streaming website Netflix made available the first season of
“House of Cards” directed by the acclaimed director David Fincher (Social Network, Fight Club) and starring
two time Oscar winner Kevin Spacey (The
Usual Suspects, American Beauty).
The profundity of the moment has less to do with the fact that this is Netflix
first stab at original content and more to do with how it was made available,
all thirteen episodes on the same day for the express purpose of giving
subscribers the ability to consume the product when, where, and how they
wished. It is the next victory in that triumph of capitalism and democracy
known as the Internet. The winners: The People (i.e. audiences and
movie-makers). The losers: the Man (i.e. corporation and politicians etc.)
You think I am being overly dramatic perhaps. Let me explain. First, I
pose this question to you: What is the difference between a movie and a
television show? The obvious answers are length, content restrictions, and
quality. Movies have always generally had more of all of these. But these are
merely the symptoms of the main fundamental difference: who pays for the
program. Movies are sold directly to an audience. Television however does not
sell programs to audiences. Television sells audiences to advertisers. And
these advertisers influence the programming. They interrupt with
advertisements, they influence its availability, and they censor and influence
the content. This is why the great subversive 1976 movie about television Network is a movie and not a television
show. It is great entertainment but no advertiser in its right mind would pay
for it.
There will always be movies shown at movie theaters. A movie theater
focuses the viewer’s imagination and attention for drama. The size of the
screen provides the opportunity for action spectacle. The crowd engagement via
laughs or cheers makes the most out of comedy. But you can’t show long form
narrative in a theater for the same reason you would not bring out a novel at a
poetry reading. We like each other’s company but let’s not push it. We’ve all
got shit to do.
Long form narrative has always been the domain of television but since
it was the audience being sold and not the movie, it has always been done in an
inferior manner. The most obvious is the need for networks to drag out a good
show till the point where nobody wants to watch it anymore. As long as there is
an audience to sell, it won’t be going anywhere. This is very much apparent in
series that have romances introduced in the first episode that do not get
resolved until the last minute of the finale of the actual series years later
after the couple has split up and got back together for ratings reasons many
times over. Think Ross and Rachel from Friends.
And just when the hell is he finally going to meet the mother? It has been
eight seasons already. This may not be a big deal as the seasons are
progressing but who in their right mind would go back and watch all 11 seasons
of MASH or 10 seasons of Cheers. I’m sure there were some good episodes in
there but I’m not wallowing through the muck to get to them. Also TV episodes
need to be in uniform lengths. In some cases this calls for some scenes or
jokes to be cut (especially in syndication), but more likely it means that an
episode with a half hour of plot is told in an hour format needlessly. Think of
all those episodes of The Walking Dead
where nothing happens until the last ten minutes and then it ends with a
cliffhanger. Yeah I said it. That television show is crammed with filler, most
of it annoying crying. In House of Cards,
the length and number of episodes is set according to plot requirements not
network schedules. The result is a series that is exceedingly and enjoyably
dense. By dense I mean that every scene and episode matters whether it is to
further the plot, to provide comic relief, or to exploit dramatic suspense. You
are never waiting around for things to happen. It is invigorating.
The second difference is the quality of content and I do not simply mean
lack of ordinary censorship, although yes that is absent in House of Cards, which contains all sorts
of swearing and some sex. I mean the entertainment value of the shows
themselves. In television, the main product being the audience and not the
show, it does not matter whether the show is any good as long as the ratings
brought in bring in enough advertisers to make the show profitable. This can
have a sort of race to the bottom effect. For if just enough people like
watching cheap trash than there is no reason not to make it. Have you ever had
the sensation while flipping through hundreds of channels that absolutely
nothing is on? This helps to explain the proliferation of game shows and
reality TV on networks and cable. Some of these shows have very good ratings
yes, but that is not the only reason they are made. They also happen to be very
cheap to make. You aren’t paying writers or directors or even actors. You only
need one built set for a game show and depending on the program might not need
any for reality TV. So why keep producing a great niche show like Arrested Development with its great
cast, director, and writers, when you can put on American Idol as much as possible. Why produce a niche show at all
when the purpose of television is not to entertain but to bring in the biggest
possible audience? Arrested Development by
the way is coming back for thirteen more episodes via Netflix this May. Why?
Because the audience is paying to see it and main purpose for them is to be
entertained not to be apart of the biggest possible crowd.
No, audiences are not stupid and they enjoy and will pay for quality
programming. This year saw six out of nine Best Picture nominees breaking the
100 million dollar box office mark. The democratization made possible by
digital movie-making (see fantastic documentary Side by Side) is allowing more people to get more skin in the game,
making it possible for movies to be made for, by, and about even the poorest
amongst us. (Think Slumdog Millionaire
and Beasts of the Southern Wild.) And
the explosion of Internet streaming allows the rest of us to see these movies.
The proliferation of blogs and websites and apps spreads the word about which
movies and shows are worth watching. Brave New World.
And there is such a wealth of material waiting to be adapted into
long-from narrative: all those comic-book serials and thousand page novels that
were routinely savaged to fit into three hour movies. George R.R. Martin, the
author of Game of Thrones, repeatedly
turned down offers to adapt his books into movies. It would have destroyed the
book. He felt only the long form narrative structure provided by HBO whose
subscriber model allows it to be unrestricted by censorship and uninterrupted
by advertisers could do the story justice. So far he has been proved completely
right.
Combine all of this with the fact that long-form is necessarily more
expensive and intensive than the average summer tent-pole blockbuster and you
have the perfect storm of elements. After all what is the easiest way to get
viewers to pay to watch 13 hours of television (as I happily this past weekend
with House of Cards): provide quality
characters and story. You can’t bluff a huge opening weekend box office number
of an inferior product with huge special effects and an expensive marketing
campaign with streaming long form narrative because there is no opening weekend
box office and the risks inherent in making such an expensive product with no
concern for quality are unnecessarily large. In Conclusion: Quality
entertainment on purpose not by happy accident as it has too often been during
the course of cinematic history. You know, the way HBO, the first subscription
based channel, has done it and thrived.
This brings us to the next question: how do you critique long form
narrative like House of Cards?
Not the way we usually critique television shows, in episode recaps.
That ignores the most fundamental attraction of long form narrative: a series
whose sum is greater than its parts. Let’s take the best example possible, The Wire. Here is a show that moves
along very methodically. The creators, led by David Simon, were putting
together their version of Baltimore very carefully with purposes in mind that
were not completely clear until the last episode of the last season. At that
moment the viewer could take a step back, survey the entire work, and be struck
by its sheer perfection. If the show had been judged by episodically or made
anywhere but HBO it would have never survived production. On the other side is
the ABC show, Lost, which was totally
worth watching while it was on TV, but once the final season reared its ugly
head, an impending sense of disillusionment crept in as the bullshit piled up
and kept piling. Having seen the entire thing I can’t recommend it to anyone
and wish the whole thing could have been made available all at the same time
like House of Cards so someone could
have written a review telling me not to bother.
I won’t advise you to watch House
of Cards right now. The first thirteen merely set up, dare I say a “House
of Cards,” (nyuk) and it will be up to the second season to knock them or keep
them up in a satisfying way. It might be a good idea to wait until it’s all
over, read a review then, and make a decision whether it is worth 26 hours of
your life at that time. From what I’ve seen, it probably is, but you will hear
a definite answer when the second season shows up. You won’t be missing
anything. Every single episode will still be at Netflix should you exercise
you’re newly found TV show consumer’s right to choose exactly when and where to
watch your shows at that time. How convenient!
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