Terrible Idea (.net)

I’ve talked before about the benefits of television shows over full-length films, but there are distinctions within TV that are important as well.  While watching various TV shows in undergrad, I came to appreciate the difference between episodic and serial shows.

Episodic shows have no real continuity between the episodes — they could be watched out of order, and very little would be lost.  They are characterized by granularity of the individual episodees; hence the name.  Serial shows need to be watched in series for the full effect, because the plot arcs over multiple episodes.

Few shows are wholly one or the other.  A perfect example is The X-Files, which has monster-of-the-week episodes that can be viewed in isolation, at least within the context of their respectives seasons, but also has “mytharc” episodes that carry on a larger story spanning the entire series.

Realizing the full advantages of the TV medium that I talked about earlier — the discrete episodes and extended time-frame that allows for more exploration of characters and themes, as well as the develpment of those characters and themes — is best served by serial shows.

Each discrete episode of Lost concentrates on one person or one couple, but contributes to the development of the overall story.  Simply having character studies, viewable in any order and disconnected from the overall story, would not allow for the characters to develop as they have.  Locke’s transformation from a mysterious guru-like figure, to an angry, scared cripple, then to the current violent and flawed visionary, could not have happened without a continuing story arc.

But within serial shows, there is another important distinction that I had not thought about until recently.  Some shows have a direction from the beginning, like (allegedly) Lost, or the serial of serials, Babylon 5, whose entire 5-season story arc was carefully planned before filming even began.  The other possibility is not to have a specific end in mind, but to work from episode to episode, while staying within a coherent story arc.  I started thinking about this style a couple days ago, when I found out that Ronald Moore and the writers of Battlestar Galactica subscribe to this approach.

Now, this tidbit comes from the trivia section on BSG’s IMDB page, so take it with a grain of salt.  If anyone can confirm it, please let me know.  But regardless of its truth, I think this method of developing a story-arc driven TV show has distinct advantages over years-ahead planning.

As I’ve said, part of what makes a serial show appealing is the chance for character development.  Obviously this sort of development can be written into the story arc from the beginning, and small allowances can be made by the writers within the pre-planned story, but this puts the creative control into the hands of a single person, or a single homogenous group of people: the writers.

But when the show is developed more spontaneously, the writers will (hopefully) react to how the actors treat their characters, and how the audience reacts to the characters.  The development of the story arc becomes a dialogue among the viewers, the actors, the directors, and the writers.  The show can develop organically, around the strengths of the actors, the interest of the audience, and the overall plan of the writers.  There can be character (and plot) development in the truest sense of the phrase.

In Battlestar Galactica, the story seems to be steaming toward a confrontation involving Helo and Athena’s hybrid daughter.  But consider this: after the miniseries that kicked off the entire show, the plan was for Helo to be written off — he was left on Caprica, assumed dead.  However, the actor (and the character) were strong enough that they decided to start a subplot involving his survival on Cylon-occupied Caprica.  They brought in a different Cylon Boomer, but even then, it wasn’t until later in season 1 that they decided that the subplot was going to involve the Cylon’s interest in biological reproduction.  Now, the entire story is swirling around this issue.  And, as a side note, having a survivor on Caprica allowed the introduction of the character of Anders as a resistance leader, who is now revealed as one of the final five Cylons, another centerpiece of the storyline.  The entire series is culminating around people whose characters were written off, or didn’t even exist, at the beginning of the series.

Of course, not having a definite plan can lead to meandering, aimless stories that limp into their final days, and are cancelled because of low ratings rather than ending on their own terms.  The X-Files is a prime example.  Having a goal can keep the stories moving and driven, something that Babylon 5 did admirably until they had to wrap up the story in the 4th season when they thought they were going to be cancelled, only to be renewed for a 5th season that unfortunately had to consist mostly of filler material.  But if the writing can stay tight, like it has (mostly) on BSG, I think the un-planned serial has more to offer than the pre-scripted story.

So, I applaud the BSG team’s decision to take the story where it goes on its own, rather than where they want to push it.  Similarly, I’m happy that they’ve decided to end the story on their own this season, and I can’t wait to see what they do with it.  I may be writing about specific episodes as they air in the coming weeks.

A week or so ago, Ron Coleman at Likelihood of Confusion (a law blog named after the legal test for determining trademark infringement) wrote a post called “The Long and Rocky Road.”  He writes about how much times have changed in the Intellectual Property world in the past forty years.  Baskin-Robbins couldn’t make a Beatles-themed ice cream without being sued all across the universe.  These days, everything is all about (as Mel Brooks would say) “Moichendizing! Moichendizing! Moichendizing!”

Ben & Jerry’s does tribute flavors nowadays, but they have to work closely with the subject of their tribute, and no doubt have to sign all sorts of contracts, all of which must be drafted by one side’s lawyers, reviewed by the other side’s lawyers, altered, returned to the other side, repeat ad nauseum.  For entertainment figures, it’s no longer good enough just to sell your particular brand of entertainment, you have to keep a tight grip on every part of your “brand.”

When did this happen?  My guess, based on no first hand experience, no in-depth research, and barely any cursory research, is that Star Wars was the turning point.  Rather than demand a bigger up-front payment, George Lucas slyly opted for a $175,000 fee, and 40% of the merchandising rights.  According to this site, the first five movies (at the time that article was written, which I can’t determine) had grossed $3.4 billion at the box office worldwide… and the merchandising had brought in over $9 billion.

By concentrating on the accessories — the cheap plastic figurines for which hordes of slavering nerds chomp at the bit to get in mint condition, as well as the extending light sabers, the board games, the trading cards, and hell, even coloring books — Lucas showed the world that the real money in entertainment comes from creating a brand, not just a single movie or trilogy.  The entertainment industry hasn’t been the same since.

I’m gearing up to post more regularly, since my post-exam cool-down period is over.  (I just had an image of laying in bed next to my Con Law exam, smoking a cigarette, asking “was good for you, too, baby?”  Hopefully I was… *ahem* big spoon.  I’ll find out in a few months.)

For right now, though, a bit of ill-informed wondering: “McCain Says He Would Put Conservatives on the Supreme Court.”  This headline has been showing up on my Google headlines, in various permutations, for most of today.

Why is this news?  Was there a chance that he wouldn’t appoint conservative judges?  Or is it just that the media feels they have to write something about McCain since Obama and Clinton have been so much in the spotlight with their continuing battle for their party’s nomination, and he happened to provide them with a good soundbite?

Recently, I’ve been very interested in typefaces and design, sort of as a hobby.  I have no formal training, but I’ll look at a logo, or a brochure, or a sign, and ask, “what is it trying to accomplish,” immediately followed by, “how is font choice, layout, and color scheme helping or hindering that goal?”

Helvetica, by Gary Hustwit, is a film that is all about these sorts of questions.  The film looks at changes in the world of design over the past fifty years by studying the history and use of one of the most ubiquitous typefaces in the world, the titular Helvetica.

How can a movie about a typeface be interesting?  Well, it may not be that interesting.  In the film, Erik Spiekermann (who has a very interteresting blog that I’ve been following since seeing the movie) says, “Other people look at bottles of wine, or girls’ bottoms, or whatever.  I get a kicks out of looking at type.”  So, it’s definitely not for everyone.  Personally, I would say there’s something about the curve of a girl’s bottom that even the elegant lines of Garamond can’t match.  But I do think there’s a place the for appreciation of type, and the role it plays in our lives.  This film evokes exactly that appreciation.

Choice quotes that show the extremes of the dialogue that has been occuring in design over the past 50 years:

Wim Crouwel sums up the modernist perspective, and their view on Helvetica in one line: “The meaning is in the content of the text and not in the typeface, and that is why we loved Helvetica very much.”

David Carson illustrates the other side: “If something is a very important message, and it’s said in a boring, non-descript way, the message may be lost.”

“I mean, that doesn’t say caffeinated…  It’s just sitting there!  There’s nothing caffeinated about it!  There’s nothing extramarital about that.  There’s no sunshine here!  That’s not a fun sandlot.”

Of course, there’s a lot more nuance to the positions of these designers than a few choice words can show.  If you are at all interested in the way the form of communication impacts its content, I recommend Helvetica.