Posts Tagged ‘Backlash’

Is THE WIRE Backlash-Proof?

By Jaime Weinman - Sunday, April 4, 2010 - 9 Comments

Myles McNutt is polling his readers on which show he should watch to fill a gap in his TV viewing experience. The unsurprising things about the poll are that a) Buffy/Angel is way out in front, and b) I voted for NewsRadio. What is surprising is that The Sopranos is dead last in the poll. Or maybe it shouldn’t be surprising: since the show went off the air, its reputation has not been in the best shape, or it seems that way from the many TV fans I encounter online — including big fans of the HBO approach that it helped popularize — who don’t care for it or feel it burned out early. That’s not a scientific poll of opinion or anything, but its cultural influence seems to have evaporated rather quickly.

Maybe it just seems to have experienced a particularly strong backlash after the hysterical over-praise it got in its early days. The New York Times, you may remember, called it “the most important work of American popular culture in the last quarter-century” after it had only been on TV for a year. There’s no way a show can live up to that, particularly when it goes through some rough patches, loses a key cast member early on, and ends with a gesture that only works if you are already pre-disposed to believe that the show is profound. (I am not saying that the ending of The Sopranos was a bad idea; I’m agnostic on that point. But it does assume that we trust the show and believe it has a purpose in everything it does. For a viewer who needs to be convinced that it has something substantial to say, the ending will certainly not help matters.)

Lots of things go through cycles of over-praise and under-praise, but television seems particularly vulnerable to this, because it’s not closed off: once the praise starts coming in, the creators have to keep making episodes, and the creative choices they make later can affect the reputation of the early episodes — not just by diluting their impact, but by making us evaluate the early seasons in a new and perhaps less flattering light. And despite the urge to compare TV to novels, it’s just not the same: a novel is a complete work that most of us experience in a concentrated period, while a TV show — even one with a big overall plan — is a collection of episodes, made at different times and worked on by many people. It always has creative ups and downs, and we experience the show in different ways (depending on when we watch it, what order we see the episodes in, how many episodes we’ve seen, and so on). Anything with that kind of assembly-line production aesthetic is going to have trouble sustaining a reputation for artistic brilliance, no matter how ambitious it is. One TV producer compared his job to Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill only to have it roll back down: you put all your effort into the job, and then you have to do the exact same thing all over again next week.

Add in the fact that TV shows begin to show their age very quickly in a technical sense — even the expensive HBO shows — and all of this makes the television “pantheon” very volatile; a show that is praised to the skies now will often spark a backlash not very many years later.  Of course this backlash can sometimes be followed by a renewed appreciation of the show’s merits, once it’s viewed in context and with more forgiveness of its mis-steps. I believe and hope that this will happen to The Sopranos eventually.

One show that doesn’t seem to have been backlash’d yet, despite praise that is sometimes as over-wrought as the early Sopranos praise, is The Wire. I’m not interested in making the backlash happen, though I sometimes think that it’s a little much to compare any TV cop show, even The Wire, to the great novels of the Western world or whatever age-old it’s being compared to this week. (I will also admit that I’m in the camp that prefers Homicide to The Wire, but despite their similarities, the two shows are different enough in approach — Homicide is a character-based show, The Wire built around plot and theme — that they’re not in competition, really. So I wouldn’t say Homicide is a better show, just more my speed.) Still, I’d normally expect the crescendo of praise to be followed by a cooling-off period, a re-evaluation, and yes, a critical and fan backlash. It hasn’t really happened.

If The Wire is backlash-proof, I think it will be because its bad luck works to its advantage. The Wire had low viewership, was ignored by the Emmys, and didn’t run particularly long. All of these things were not advantages at the time, but they meant the show never really suffered from Sopranos-style overexposure. Its canonization as Greatest Show Ever didn’t really happen until it was almost over, and didn’t take it from critical adulation to mass-media hype. And unlike Homicide, which managed to extend its run only by submitting to network re-tooling, The Wire simply had to settle for a smaller episode order for its final season (so even those who didn’t think the final season was its best couldn’t say it was truly compromised, the way late seasons often are).

I’m still thinking The Wire could suffer a backlash; the hype started late, and so the backlash could simply have been delayed by a few years. But if it doesn’t happen, David Simon can thank all the people who didn’t watch it, all the media outlets that didn’t cover it, and the network that wasn’t particularly interested in it. Another HBO example of the same phenomenon is Mr. Show, which hasn’t really suffered a backlash because it was mostly (and undeservedly) ignored by the public and the network.

  • The 30 Rock backlash begins

    By Jaime Weinman - Thursday, October 15, 2009 at 11:53 AM - 20 Comments

    the two characters who work30 Rock is starting to get some critical pushback these days. It didn’t really deserve its third Emmy (I would say it was the third-best of the nominated shows, personally), and its extreme unevenness — great episodes alternating with weak ones, bad jokes and good jokes bouncing up against each other in the same scene — is getting out of hand. As the show begins what looks to be an equally uneven fourth season, some critics are saying not that it isn’t a good show (it is good) but that it falls short of greatness.

    - Alan Sepinwall says that this season, the rapidly-improving Parks and Recreation is better than 30 Rock, and

    - Todd at the AV Club fears that the show is showing signs of decline, and compares it to another guest-star-ridden sitcom with weakly-defined characters, Will and Grace. (By the way, the AV Club comment section is, for the most part, distinctly unhelpful and full of people who are easily offended by any criticism of a show they like or, worse, good words for anything they consider uncool. It almost makes me glad to have few comments on most of my posts.)

    Anyway, my own view on 30 Rock is that it has never been a truly great show (though it has been a very good one, and that’s enough), but it’s probably as good as it’s ever going to be. The show really only has two fully effective characters, Jack and Liz, mostly because they have the only fully developed relationship on the show, and good comedy depends on effective character relationships. (The writers tried to come up with a similar relationship f or Tracy and Kenneth, but they really didn’t make it.) The show is totally dependent on the jokes; a good episode is one where a lot of jokes land. Two good characters, some good jokes, and some fun satirical shots is enough for an entertaining show; I think that a show needs to offer more than that to be genuinely great.

    But remember, 30 Rock is really the salvaged wreckage of a weak premise. Faced with an idea that wasn’t working and was too close to another then-new show, Studio 60, Fey and the other writers decided to solve the problem by pumping the show full of jokes, distracting attention from the fact that their original premise was not working for them. By the end of the first season, they had the problems worked out and had re-tooled the premise, but all the characters were left over from that original premise, and most of them had no point to their existence. If the show were to try, now, to turn Pete or Jenna into interesting comic characters, it would probably fail: not only are these characters not strong enough to support any exploration, but the writers committed themselves to a never-ending cascade of crazy jokes, and they can’t thin out the joke rate for the sake of some character development that wouldn’t work anyway. The high joke-per-page rate is the premise of 30 Rock by now; it’s Family Guy with better writers, or a middle-period episode of Night Court without the corny serious bits at the end. There’s nothing really wrong with that. It just means that it will always be mostly a showcase for joke-writing skill. It’s a first-rate showcase, and has also allowed Fey to make some interesting points about corporate life and TV that most shows wouldn’t make; to become a genuine ensemble show about more than two actual humans (and there are some episodes where Liz is so insane that Jack becomes the only human) it would have to re-tool itself again, and it’s not going to (shouldn’t!) do that.

    The problems 30 Rock has had in developing the non Liz/Jack characters (if you see them as problems; I do, but not everyone needs to) may be exacerbated by something that’s inherent in the modern single-camera filming setup. Namely, a lot of the actors don’t spend a whole lot of time working together. One-camera film isn’t usually about forming an ensemble, unless the director has enough clout to demand a lot of advance rehearsal. Scenes are shot in bits and pieces, which is great if you’re looking to get big-name guest stars — who can work one day on an episode, instead of being there for the whole week — but not great if the writers are trying to pick up clues about which characters work best together, or learn new things about the characters from their interactions on the set. One reason Jack and Liz have the best relationship on the show may simply be that they have frequent scenes together, really on the set at the same time interacting, in every episode.

    The Office has formed a genuine ensemble where any character can get a laugh, and I don’t think that’s unrelated to the fact that due to the documentary format, the show actually requires the cast to be on the set together more than most such shows. (The Office people can’t even leave the set during other people’s scenes, because they have to be at their desks in the background; only the writer-actors, who sit in the back, get to skip scenes.) As it is, Liz and Jack are not merely the only great characters, but the only ones who have genuine chemistry. On a great ensemble show, in the words of the producers of NewsRadio, “every character had a different relationship with every other character.” 30 Rock has one great relationship, a few decent ones, and that’s enough for a good show. Great, maybe not.

From Macleans