TV Round Up…
Alrighty. Figure I’d put this up for posterity’s sake. These are the shows that currently occupy my viewing time. I rarely turn the TV on unless there’s something I actually want to watch on, and these are it. Them. Thingy.
Must Watch
The shows that I absolutely cannot miss.
Chuck
I’ve already spazzed my pants over how much I like Chuck, so I’ll just leave it at that. I will say that, as it’s on at the same time as The Big Bang Theory, I usually watch BBT and then wait for one of the later showings of Chuck. (This is why having Satellite sometimes doesn’t suck; I get a three hour timeshift on everything.)
Dirty Jobs
I often make the mistake of watching this while eating dinner. Still, I’ve loved this show since I found out they pixellate it when anybody vomits. Now if they’d just scramble the vomit audio, it’d be fantastic.
Flashpoint
Absolutely genius show. The editing, the acting and the writing all make me positively gleeful. Also, it made me cry once. I never cry. (I can count the number of times TV/Film have made me cry on one hand. And still have three fingers free.) It’s come a long way from the pilot episode that I described as ‘Eliot DiMauro, The Pink Ranger, and a guy that looks like Josh Charles walk into a hostage situation…’
Read more
Don’t judge a book by its cover… But feel free to judge a TV show by its title sequence. (Part 2)
["...hopefully in the next couple of days." apparently does not take into account a loss in the family, sliding into two weeks in New York, and the onset of the dreaded flu. AND 23 hours without power in temperatures peaking at -17 degrees celsius. Go, go Toronto! Last time I try to give anything close to a definitive answer. Fr Srs.]
And so it continues: gloriously abstract TV titles that contribute effectively to the creation of the thematic identity of the program. (Continued from Part 1 here.)
I’ve been thrown for a bit of a loop here as one of the title sequences I had searched down is no longer available on YouTube thanks to a copyright claim by NBC Universal. Thanks, ever so much. Just for that, I’m not even going to mention the title of the show, or give it some free advertising. No need to thank me, I’m only paying you the same courtesy you pay your viewing audience. (When will you learn? No, seriously. I want a succinct, precise answer.)
I will however pimp shows from some of your competitors outside the jump: Pushing Daisies. Dexter. True Blood. Carnivale. Flashpoint. Dirty Jobs. Nip/Tuck. The Big Bang Theory. Grey’s Anatomy. Supernatural. Stargate: Atlantis. Twin Peaks. Psych. Reaper. Robot Chicken. The Young Ones.
All of those are on other networks. Some of them don’t even fit the criteria for this post. Some of those have been cancelled. Some of them haven’t been on TV in decades. What matters is I like all of them.
Also, you suck.
MOVING ON.
The remaining titles are after the jump. I haven’t figured out what to replace the [SHOW THAT WILL NOT BE NAMED] titles yet, so there may only be four. I sorted it. There are five.
Don’t judge a book by its cover… But feel free to judge a TV show by its title sequence. (Part 1)
First up, apologies for the lack of updates. I was a little bit busy moving to Canada. I’m in Toronto and I have bought boots and a jacket and gloves and I still manage to nearly lose my limbs to frostbite every time I step outside. I reserve the right to shout “The sky is falling!” whenever it snows. Like right now.
Moving on!
I love TV, that’s no secret. I love episodic and serialised drama, comedy, pseudo-horror, and the like. I love watching the characters grow and develop within the realms of their own little worlds and plots. I love the little intrigues and mysteries and the various permutations of the basic narrative structure.
I love title sequences.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve been putting together a list of title sequences from various TV shows that use the minute or so of title time to go beyond a simple ‘This is X person, This is Y person, they are in this show’ structure and use the time to create a textual representation of the character of the show itself. These types of titles tend to use the juxtaposition of images to create a mood and an ideology–a thematic identity–for the show beyond the pecking order of the main stars.
These may seem like fairly obvious and straightforward concepts; in our celebrity driven culture, the title sequence is designed primarily to let the audience know who is in the show coupled with a vague idea of what the show is about. But, and this is what grabs me by the short and curlies and makes me sit up and pay attention, some title sequences go far beyond these basic expectations. Some shows abandon the ‘Heroic Headshot, Shot from Show, Sympathetic Headshot, Shot from Show, And Anthony Stewart Head as Giles, Title of Show Plate’ format, and create tiny snippets of art unto themselves. They divulge the character of the show as an entity in itself and, often, draw you into the world of the show as something beyond a way to sustain the live characters and the plotlines.
Now, this whole fascination I have with short form textual analysis stems from my study into Eisensteinian Montage as applied to Music Videos. It’s a long (and potentially boring for anyone not interested in film theory) story, but if you want to know more, my essay on the subject is here. I’ve also recently found Art of the Title which goes beyond the restrictions I’ve set (only TV, abstract form) to show the titles of films and TV as mini works of art.
Now, I’ve compiled a collection of ten television title sequences that best display (in my opinion) the use of the title sequence as a means to firmly present the character of the show as a whole through abstracted means; i.e. no headshots, textually rich, and aiming to develop the character of the show as a whole. The only limitation on this little study was what I was able to find on YouTube and my own viewing habits.
Due to the fact that I’m apparently a long winded bag when it comes to analysing and squeeing over things I enjoy, I’m splitting them up into two posts.
Beyond the jump, are the first five. All the videos are embedded. So, dial-up beware.
Market Research – A Statistic Is You!
I was recently cold called by a market research company to participate in, funnily enough, some market research on a thirty minute (incl. ads) sitcom that they (whoever ‘they’ are) are considering developing. Being the little media nerd I am, I was incredibly interested in what the process entails and how it works out. In short, I said yes.
Now, I’m not going to go into any specific details regarding who is doing the study (it’s a commercial property, natch), what the show was, or what specific products I was asked to give my opinion about. I’m more interested in the process itself. I’ve always been the kind of person who likes to contribute opinions and whatnot when asked for them for research; I think it’s important to contribute to the furtherance of knowledge and the growth of understanding. In the past, I’ve done this through mainly academic means: participating in studies and filling out questionaires or just sitting down for a coffee with people and having conversations about their works. (I think I’ve been quoted in a thesis on Milan Kundera. *buffs nails and is generally awesome*) But, I’ve never been asked to participate in something which may have lasting impact in the now.
Of course, the now-ness of it all meant that the only opinions I gave that really counted were about the advertising content. Yay, now. -_-
The Package.
I was sent a package by the company conducting the survey containing a form letter (unless I changed my name to ‘Participant’ without telling me, which is entirely possible), a DVD, three envelopes– labelled ‘Please Open Before You View The Tape’, ‘Please Open After You View The Tape’ and ‘Please do NOT OPEN‘ (cementing their grammar skills as l33t)–and a $10 gift card. The letter outlined the process, informed me that the DVD was single use only and would self destruct in five seconds would not work a second time, and some questions I should keep in mind while viewing the program. It also said that I should ‘view the show however and whereever you usually watch TV at home. No need to be a TV critic, don’t take notes, we just want to know what you feel about this show.‘
So, I opened the first envelope just before watching it. It included ‘Prize Entry Form #1′ and a booklet. The booklet contained pictures of various products sorted into type and numbered off. The instructions asked that I go through each of the products and list which ones I would like to receive as a prize. Now, presumably, each product was included as a method of finding out which products people would like to use. Duh. But, seriously, in terms of prize content it was pretty lame. I had some seriously amazing and worthwhile choices, yo. Shampoo, conditioner, facial moisturisers, breakfast cereal, lollies, toilet cleaner. Woohoo, sign me up! I participated in SRS RSRCH and I won toilet cleaner! The possibilities were endless and not at all difficult to go out and procure myself were I to suddenly want [Random Item]. No, really.
At any rate, I filled out the form, hemmed and hawed over X-type moisturiser over Q-type moisturiser, considered the possibilities of allergic reaction with F-type laundry powder or liquid, and seriously considered the fibre content of cereal C over cereal Y. (Well, no, I didn’t. I thought ‘which is least likely to make me barf’) and then, at 9:00 last night, I put the DVD in and sat down to watch it.
Sci-Fi Necrolepsy: I was only a little bit dead.
I promised myself I wasn’t going to go on and on and on about what I don’t like on film, and focus on the things I do like, but the mental rant I keep returning to when I’m wandering about doing nothing things is the concept of death in Sci-Fi (as a genre).
Sci-Fi’s relationship with death is disturbing. The fact that any character who’s killed off for some reason or other can just be brought back and carry on as though nothing was wrong sucks any emotional impact out of any dangerous situation the characters may be put in. I find myself unable to worry about the main characters in most Sci-Fi beyond a simple ‘oh, how are they going to get out of this one?’ which usually develops to ‘oh, that’s how they got out of that one. Hey, wow, I have solitaire on this computer.’ This is usually due to the fact that, if they do die, they’ll most likely be back in some form or other, or, if they’re main characters, they were never really in any danger to begin with.
As a viewer, I tend to develop attachments to my favourite characters. It’s what we do; how we interact with the shows on more than just a passive level. These attachments (relationships, not in an erotomaniacal sense, perhaps?) are what keep me invested in the show and its relative success. As I stated in a previous entry: Movies are a one night stand, Television is an abusive relationship. The emotional highs and lows are what keep me coming back to television time and time again. If I can’t get those emotional highs and lows because I can never really worry about the welfare of the characters, then the entire thing becomes a moot point and I’m essentially watching sexless porn. (My, those actors are pretty, I wonder what ridiculous situation they’ll be put in next. Ho hum.)
Occasionally, character resurrections are done well within the context of the piece. I’m thinking mostly Buffy* (s1, pretty lame, but s6 dealt with it well), and Alien: Resurrection (sure, the movie was average, but the resurrection was handled relatively well, plus: Dourif and Perlman, ftw). I’m sure there are others, but these are the ones my brain has, inexplicably, decided to focus on. Anyway, the reasons these resurrections worked? Because they dealt with the ramifications of bringing someone back from the dead, something which a lot of Sci-Fi doesn’t really do.
Take, for example, the Stargate universe. Characters are yo-yo-ing in and out of this and other plains of existence, blown to itty bitty pieces and cloned, misplaced, found under a rock on a distant planet covered in cream cheese and doing the hula. (Okay, maybe that last one’s an exaggeration.) The deaths in these series ultimately mean nothing. If the characters can just pop back into the canon with minimal fuss, then it’s the sci-fi equivalent of stepping out of the shower and finding out it was all just a dream. It really feels like I’m being cheated out of an emotional response. If I can’t mourn for a character (yes, yes, fiction, stfu), then what’s the point in feeling anything for any of the characters?
Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy watching the shows (well, I enjoy Sheppard and McKay, and they have the least likelihood of anything bad ever happening to them, see: guano loco fans having the writers guts for garters, then deploy the plot armour, allons-y Alonzo), but I can never really get past it being like a coffee table book; pretty and an excellent conversation starter, but not really having any lasting impact unless it’s thrown with great force at a dissenter’s head.
Sometimes, a death will come along, and you’ll know it’s a ‘real’ death. (Spoilers: highlight to view. Yes, even five+ years later.) Anya in the Buffy s7 finale, Buffy’s mother in the episode which proved that people don’t need a musical cue to feel complex emotions, Fred in Angel, which technically isn’t a death but still the removal of a character. I’m sure there are more, but my brain is wired to the Buffy and Stargate ‘verses at the moment, strangely. The removal of these characters, without possibility of resurrection, leaves a lasting emotional impact which lingers on in the minds and emotions of the characters, making it real and painful for them, and ultimately making it real and painful for us, as the audience.
What it all boils down to, and this is my major problem, is that death is the thing, the Big Thing, which informs the way we act and react. It is what makes us fear and worry for characters on the screen and gives us that connection to them when they’re in peril. If death is taken away as being the ultimate emotional trauma (and, yes, there are other ways to put the characters and audience through the emotional wringer, but death tops the list), then how can we connect with them on all the other levels the writers expect us to?
Death absolutely must be a constant. Without it, the characters are just fighting to not have a shitty death+resurrection/return scene, which, in the grand scheme of things, sucks donkey balls with a hoover in a black hole.
*Does Buffy count as Sci-Fi? s4, maybe, but, whatever.
Movies are a one night stand. Television is an abusive relationship.
Television.
I’m sometimes appalled by how much I love television. Well, not all television; I’m not as enamoured with some genres as I am with others, I don’t particularly care about the wheeling and dealing the buyers and planners do to get the content on air (as long as they don’t sacrifice whichever show I’m watching to make way for ad content; Channel Seven, I’m looking at you), and I have very definite preferences about what I like within a show. I’m always trying to qualify what I watch and why because, ironically, the thirty second grabs for current affairs shows have me convinced that television is inherently evil. Granted, I’m not twelve any more and I don’t have to run what I’m watching past Mum (even then, her approach was that if I could present a cogent and coherent argument for why I wanted to watch something, I was allowed to watch anything. Anything.), but I still have the, perhaps bizarre, notion that watching TV will rot my brain and turn me into some slobbering, hip-jutting, gum-popping, trend-following, moron wearing a cheap, Supre ‘Girls on Film’ t-shirt without any idea that it’s a song about pornography by Duran Duran and not an assertation of feminism and support of Helen Mirren.
I prefer to think that’s not the case. I prefer to think that Television is a pit stop between here and there; disseminating ideas and information in bullet point so that I can go to a more reliable source and find out more. This is as much applicable to fictive television as it is to the news and documentaries. Actually, probably more so since I don’t rely on television (in the broadcast sense) to bring me documentaries and the news as it stands is barely a step above tabloid journalism in its current sensationalist nature: disaster! disaster! injustice! sport. weather. human interest!
It’s really not that much different from the “issues based” drama I’ve seen in my time; it takes a little longer to disseminate, but it makes the same points, but with more over-acting and fewer … well, I can’t actually think of what there’s fewer. SVU practically does panel discussions, 24 does intercuts, and most of them have intractable, perfectly coiffured hair. Dramatic television shows take on social and political issues at greater depth, and often greater (if biased, but when is anything in the media not biased?) accuracy. Why am I supposed to believe that there is any less merit in watching narrative television rather than the news?
I have no idea.
But, anyway. I didn’t actually want to get caught up in a rant about the news. At least I managed to avoid reality television; that would probably have just been a vitriolic deluge of bilious invective, which, while fun, probably wouldn’t have helped.
But, I digress.
Leadership. Television.
There are shows I watch with regularity. There are shows I watch on and off. There are shows I fell hard for in the beginning, but stopped watching for one reason or other. There are shows that annoy me, shows that I adore beyond reason, shows that make me want to put the remote through the TV screen with great force, and shows that don’t even rate a seconds pause when I flash through.
A lot of the time, it comes down to two things: writing and character. I can forgive a lot of things if its well written and the characters are owned by the actors. Sure, I’ll point out the flaws and mock them within an inch of their lives, but I’ll generally keep watching.
There are, of course, a few exceptions.
No, really. That was fun. Let’s never do it again.
The hardest part is starting.
No, wait. The hardest part is starting and not sounding like a self-aggrandising moron.
Unless, of course, you skip straight past self-aggrandising and go straight to moron.
Shall we?
In order to get this wee bastard up to my ‘I’ve just spent nine hours trapped a) at work, b) on public transport, I don’t really care as long as it’s shiny’ standards, I spent two hours trawling through the themes.
I think my favourite was the WOECAKES ME ARE EMO bloody hand. And possibly Stewie. But mostly the bloody hand.
I spent the entire time thinking ‘Okay, this is the way you’re going to be perceived. You are your blog design. You must convey your INTELLIGENCE and WRY HUMOUR without dipping into SCENESTER.’ and then I realised it was like searching for a pre-fab house that completely compliments your entire personality and sense of home… in a Toys’R'Us catalogue. Sure, some of them were cool, but none of them said ‘me’. So I took the one that said ‘Look, I have a skull.’
I’m shallow that way.
Other things I am:
- Over-educated.
- Underpaid.
- Working in the wrong medium.
- Going to
RussiaCanada. - Reading 8 books concurrently and getting nowhere.
One day I’m going to be able to list my degrees without feeling like I’m bragging. Today’s probably not that day. (The minute you bring out the ‘I have X and Y and F Qualifications blahblahblah’ people start going ‘*eyeroll* *yawn* Entitlement Boor.’ Because in my head, people talk like that.)
I’ve really nowhere to go now. I can’t talk about how exciting my day was (Everything was done half an hour after I started so I photocopied stuff and felt guilty about the trees for six and a half hours.), or exciting things I’ve done (I’m saving up to go overseas. Life? Where can you download that?), or… well, I can read. But I don’t really think anyone cares whether or not I’m annoyed by Lukanyenko changing from Anton to Alisa for the second book. (That, and the fact that I’m only two chapters in.)
So, yes. In conclusion: Rocket Packs