The State of Television

Note: This week’s post will be shorter than the last 1,000 word+ epistle. Granted, it wasn’t that long, but I do want to write content that people will actually read. And, on the Internet, what people read is usually in a concise format. Anyway, without further introduction…

Contrary to what you may assume by my post title, television is not in ruins. Rather, it is entering a state of transition. Indeed, come May, mid-season shows will end. It’s just a matter of which ones are ending for good and those that are merely taking a break, only to return in 2011 with another season. Right now, however, let’s forget those shows that have been renewed; they will be discussed later. Really, what’s important, are the programs that will conclude indefinitely, a few marking the end of an era for TV.

If you follow me on Twitter (and *sarcasm,* who doesn’t?), you may have an idea of which series I’m talking about. Yes, 24 is one of them, and Lost is the other. Two phenomenal dramas that have had excellent runs and hoards of critical praise, and, save for notable exceptions from each series, both were consistent in quality throughout their eight- and six-season timespan. And, for any show, regardless of its genre, that’s an impressive amount of time to be on television. With such highly-competitive slots these days, most series will be lucky to move beyond eight episodes, let alone eight-seasons.

But it’s what these two shows brought to the television medium that was so significant; not just their substantial (and well-earned) airtime. They, in effect, raised standards for network television, demonstrating that channels other than HBO could sustain deep, story driven shows. The stale “case-of-the-week” format was scrapped in favor of a more engrossing story pattern that welcomed episodes that served solely to develop characters rather than the plot. And thus, greater connections were formed between the figures on-screen, and the families watching at home.  These characters mattered more because they were imperfect and, much like we do, had a history. A lesson wasn’t learned one week and then quickly forgotten in subsequent outings. Instead, choices mattered, and one had to deal with their action’s outcomes in future episodes of the season or series. In effect, a reward/punishment scenario could be created, one that thanked long-time viewers for tuning in each week, or scolded skippers with plot confusion. There was simply more incentive to start from the series’ beginning rather than jumping in on a work in progress. With more and more shows following in these early 2000’s debuts, serialized dramas flourished, and demonstrated their success in captivating audiences.

Other elements were reinvented, too, namely the impact of cliffhangers and how they came to be expected from gritty dramas. 24, in 2001, found itself pioneering these final moments on network TV, shockers that begged you to tune in next week, eager to see the implications of one single event. Granted, after a few episodes, viewers soon knew that after the final split-screen was shown, the scenes that followed could very well be the most significant event of the entire 43-minute show. But, especially in the earlier seasons, they never ceased to shock and leave an audience longing for continuation. As expected, viewers would speculate, whether alone or with friends, the possibilities for next week, strengthening the impact of the show even as it was off-air.

And these shows, film-like in the budget and scale, soon became made-for-DVD, sometimes surpassing sales of their studio-made counterparts. Audiences, unnervingly opposed to commercials and week-long waits to progress in the show's timeline, would simply (and ironically) look for the show to finish its run and then pick it up on DVD, watching it in its entirety in a couple of sittings. Some, including myself, still claim this to be the single best way to watch a serialized show. 

Now that two of the decade’s greatest shows have come to a close, what does that exactly mean for TV? Well, not as much as you’d think. Fandom aside, Lost and 24’s departure is not detrimental to the landscape of late-night dramas. In fact, they more than served their purpose, laying the much-needed groundwork for future shows to follow. Their contributions to the entertainment world are wholly visible, and, as such, never will be forgotten. Just as Lost and 24 did, new shows will come along and rework the formula, spawning intricate, innovative and complex devices that will beg for attention and acclaim.

And I just can’t wait.