Get the balance right.
That has always been the hardest element of any good dramatic series and, in recent years, an urgent problem with limited series, aka miniseries.
I’m having this issue, so far minimally, with “Shōgun” on FX and a separate series I’m reviewing, also a limited series, for a future date. (As I’ve mentioned before, I do a number of commissioned in-house reviews for platforms; when appropriate, I mention and review them here, but not always).
Anyway, while pondering this issue, which certainly has ties to the invasive trend of the last five-plus years where directors (and, unfortunately, some creator-writers) call limited series “an eight hour movie” or a “10 hour movie,” I stumbled into the New York Times stories reflecting on the four year anniversary of the pandemic.
Since 2022, I’ve been waiting for (or seeking out) more sociological and psychological stories on the effect of the pandemic on citizens of the world and been sorely disappointed by the lack of them. Now that they are starting to appear more regularly and state what seems obvious — that we’re all more fucked up by the lost pandemic years than we even know — I’m hoping we’ll see those stories on the screen soon.
But closer to home, I think the pandemic’s change to the television and movie industry is still being felt (and will continue to be) even though our collective belief seems to be that it’s all behind us — except, you know, how it completely changed (upended? wrecked?) the movie industry, etc.
I found that in the pandemic, I just wanted to be distracted from the horrors of it and sought out the comfort of multiple-season television series (such as “Peaky Blinders,” all over again, beginning to post-pandemic end) and pretty much any movie I’d missed in the intervening years while being a forever-on-duty television critic (which means I missed about 3 of every 5 that I wanted to see).
And while all this was saturating my life, I developed a very high tolerance — as did many people I know — for watching series that were slow, for good and bad, but even the most egregious abuse was given a pass.
We had time. We weren’t going anywhere.
People I know who read a lot started hitting those Big Tomes. You know the ones. Maybe you knocked out a few or more as well. Maybe you finished “War and Peace.” Maybe you wrestled “Ulysses” to the ground. Maybe you picked up all three volumes of “Remembrance Of Things Past” — “In Search Of Lost Time” indeed — and went into a field, or a small back room, and came out when we had vaccines.
In those times, I was patient. Extremely so. For an anxious person to be afforded so much times to be patient, to learn the art of doing nothing while doing something that wasn’t crossing off a list, it was a revolutionary time.
Despite how horrible it all was in toto, and it was very much so for many younger people, eventually the years let a little calm in and it translated, personally, to more patience with art.
So I’m wondering now, as I watch two very different limited series, is it me? Have I flipped, post-pandemic, into a more urgent state?
I believe that’s extremely complicated to unravel — since I have simultaneously chosen to purposefully slow down and enjoy life as a result of living through the pandemic, while also feeling like multiple years were robbed, professionally, and the various TV industry pitfalls that can directly be traced back to the pandemic if not wholly blamed on the pandemic, have certainly created a sense that open windows are closing.
It’s conflicting.
But as far as watching television, I think the new post-pandemic me is very much in “do not waste my time” mode. It has upped my intolerance for anything mediocre and worse. It has hardened my stance on pointless plot diversions and discursions even if the parts I want sped up or sliced out are not, being fair here, always bad.
(They mostly are — but sometimes I’m less interested in good than very good; less tolerant of dancing than dashing.)
I’m noticing this increasingly in my television watching, particularly limited series.
So, for example, while I think “Shōgun” is really good after four episodes, my hunch is that it could be great — maybe by next week in episode five, but likely (surely?) in the sixth or seventh episode and who knows what beyond. There are 10 episodes.
Again, this is just me contemplating out loud what is wrong with me. After all, I’ve reviewed countless series that do indeed get really good in the fourth episode and then, ultimately, maybe reach greatness (like back in the cable-influenced day when there were 13, or 12 — but now mostly 10 episodes in the streaming era). What did I think back then?
The short answer: Not what I think now.
Times change and in the Peak TV Era (we’ll find out in a year or so if we’re in the Post-Peak TV Era), with numerous excellent choices and very little time, a majority of viewers will not watch a “meh” show for four episodes.
Nor should they.
But neither is “Shōgun” a “meh” series after four episodes. It’s really good. I have strong hopes and positive vibes going forward, but all of that might get tempered if the fifth episode doesn’t take a leap.
Now, is this fair?
Absolutely.
And here’s why: While as a critic I wouldn’t watch more than two not good episodes of anything, I also probably wouldn’t endorse an ongoing series unless it really had its shit together by the fourth episode.
Key word: ongoing.
“Shōgun” is not ongoing. It’s limited.
So next Tuesday night after the fifth episode, if the dramatic pacing and plotting doesn’t notch up, I think we might have a reason for concern.
Meaning, I’ll give an ongoing series more leeway because theoretically it has been conceived and crafted to go three seasons — possibly 30 episodes. Time can be taken. Minor characters can be imbued with color.
Three seasons, while not “standard” yet, is about all you can hope for in the Streaming Age — but both the creators of the series and the platform it’s on may be dreaming of five seasons (like they did in the Age of Cable).
That’s a critical tipping point — great work can be done with a full five seasons; modern audiences have shown a love for cable-era shows that go five season or more and create a mini library.
And by the TV gods you can really truly and utterly tell a huge, legendary tale in five seasons (but you can also fuck up one of them and ruin your legacy; not to be a downer).
So, plan on three, dream on five.
In that scenario, I’m much more tolerant of the world building and fleshing out of characters. That’s well used time — we’re going to live with this show and these characters for three or five seasons. Be the onion. Unwrap yourself as you will.
A limited series is a much different dance. Especially if you’ve been gifted 10 episodes rather than the unfortunately more common six or eight that seem to dominate the streaming era.
(Yes, two more hours is a big deal — especially if they are full hours at 50+ minutes, not just 44-45). That’s more storytelling. That’s more rope.
I am appreciating, just to clarify, how Japan circa 1600 is playing out on FX right now with “Shōgun.”
Getting the balance right — and I’m not saying that it has after four episodes — is crucial to a limited series. Too much mucking about and you’ve wasted time and opportunity. And yes, in a limited series, you absolutely can spend too much time on character development, which is one of the key problems.
Six, eight or 10 hour movie my ass. This is television, not film — it’s an episodic medium. You are not gifted six hours to say and do almost nothing, then two to light a fuse and two to blow shit up.
It’s not a six, eight or 10 hour movie (yells in megaphone). Make the hours count — a beginning and an end even in those 60 minutes. Stack them episodically until you have crafted a story in six or eight or 10 chapters. Do not confuse three hours with clearing your throat or being moody, an amorphous, blousy tranche of scenes that do not coalesce. Get shit done. Set the hook. Otherwise viewers vanish.
Again, I’m OK where “Shōgun” is perched after four hours. A war is coming. A world has been built and understood; characters have been presented and are clear. Now, time to move forward.
As for the other series I can’t mention just yet, it has provided strong proof of rightness (but also a small rebuttal) to this argument. Let me explain:
This limited series (eight episodes total) for me, critically, will end up being good, not great. It surprises late, just a little. Not enough to make up for the early missteps, but they are not missteps rooted in the “it’s an eight hour movie!” trap.
Nope, this one is following, for the most part, the TV Code. It has multiple faults but ends up being entertaining, even after I would have bailed (had I not been paid to watch it). I can see people liking it, particularly those into true crime (and they are legion).
But in the early going, there were trouble spots everywhere, but none more troubling than feeling like a straightforward but complicated story was being needlessly slowed down by, as my mother would say, gilding the lily. Fictional elements were added because, well, this is Hollywood, where even rock-solid real life crime stories are sometimes felt to be improved by adding improbable elements or grafting fictional diversions onto characters who don’t need to be fleshed out because, not to put too fine a point on it, eight 45-minute episodes go by faster than you think and this is not a moody two hour movie.
Minor character side-scenes, flashbacks, fictional add-ons to the real life story — they did nothing but add bloat.
And I, well past my pandemic tolerance of home baked sourdough bread and YOLO ice cream, felt that bloat.
It felt like a waste. It felt like my time was being taken for granted. And I was grumbling into my note pad.
Elsewhere, as I started to absorb these crushingly familiar New York Times stories — personal stories from real people, about the pandemic — I was transported back to that not fully understood time; I am still processing the pluses and minuses of a life on hold, upended, the forced bending of the hands of time, almost backward but not completely stopped.
How did we change? How much did we lose compared to what we may not yet comprehend that we gained? Inarguably, the whole world slowed, almost to a stop. Think about that. In these modern, tech-dominated times, that whole period was abnormal; unheard of.
What was and still may be the fall out from that? I think the ramifications are immense and vary by age group, country, socio-economic class, etc.
But there’s little doubt for me that moving forward with purpose is my desire, in most things. I didn’t say rush. I just want to feel the momentum. I want to, in some way, regain what was lost/stolen, even though I also, in many ways, appreciated what was found.
And maybe that’s why I am kicking back so hard these days when it comes to wasting my time in arts and culture. I contain multitudes — I want to be entertained; I want to be informed and educated and have my mind expanded; I want to understand new things, appreciate the slow, poetic arc of something meaningful.
I am here to give my time to the arts and all I ask is don’t waste it. When it comes to television and film (and to a lesser extent music and books), where I have enough knowledge of the craft to understand what you’re giving me, even when you’re challenging me, I appreciate anyone, any show or movie or song or book, that fills that time in a meaningful way.
In the unnamed limited series that I’m reviewing, I was well aware of the gray areas of my approach/demands — some of the early “time wasting” issues I had with it were, in a couple of instances, rewarded with a pay-off. Yes, I see why you included that storyline. Yes, I know why you spent so much time making this character unlikable and over the top — you kinda/sorta saved it in the end. I’m less mad. I’m not going to applaud the effort, because it was clunky, but it landed at least on one foot.
In the less gray areas of this series, I say this: You had eight episodes and now I wish you had six.
For “Shōgun,” the wait continues. I look forward to Tuesday. I look forward to momentum. At the halfway point of a series I’m almost positive I will finish regardless, will my allegiance be rewarded; will my time not be wasted?
I wouldn’t have asked that in 2020 through 2022, most likely.
But it’s 2024 and, for better or worse, I’m looking at my watch.
I was too busy helping prepare and submit emergency COVID research grants in the early pandemic days to have any free time. Nothing like being told on a Friday afternoon that (redacted) wanted a five million dollar budget by Monday morning to ruin a weekend, for example
Upon reading legendary show with five seasons that damaged it's legacy when one of those is bad (paraphrased), my brain immediately leapt to season five of The Wire. I mean . . . What were they thinking?