Knowing When To Say When
Star Trek fans have developed a couple of rules to predict the relative quality of any given installment. The “odd-even” rule holds that the even-numbered movies are (mostly) better than the odd-numbered ones. Another rule seems to be that the newer shows didn’t get really good until their third seasons.
It’s times like this I wish I’d paid more attention in my psychology classes, because I can see how this attitude applies to serialized comics and I wish I knew a better name for it. Fans call it “inertia,” and its expectations keep us reading despite poor track records.
At the moment, my personal poster-child for inertia is Batman: Gotham Knights. The current writer, A.J. Lieberman, came onto the title with great fanfare some eighteen months ago, although in hindsight I’m not sure if the fanfare was more for him and his new artist (Al Barrionuevo, who’s been fine) or for the return of Jeph Loeb and Jim Lee’s creation Hush. By chronicling the rise of Hush among Gotham’s criminals, Lieberman has tried to develop that underworld into its own community, along the lines of the Flash’s Rogues’ Gallery. On its own this is a fine idea, and one which has been explored off and on by Bat-writers for decades. Still, the results have been scattershot at best. I have no idea where Lieberman has been with his story, or where he’s going. The first four years of Gotham Knights were good enough to keep me buying the title for a while. Now it’s firmly in the grip of inertia and I am just holding on, hoping things will either start to get better or at least make more sense.
Supreme Power wasn’t so lucky, and I dropped it after the first 12 issues. It got too bogged down in minutiae and a fascination with its own world-building, such that the larger plot never got going. Maybe I am just a knuckle-dragger, but when you remake a faux-Justice League famous for taking over its Earth, you might expect people to want to see them ruling the world fairly early on. Flashbacks and other nonlinear storytelling devices would have done a lot in this regard.
Speaking of which, though, “Lost” started promisingly and now seems more fascinated with its characters than with moving its plots forward. I like “Lost” well enough, and it certainly has a comics-friendly writing staff, but sooner or later viewers like me will want more progress towards either getting off the island or discovering its mysteries. I was a big fan of “Twin Peaks” too, and was disappointed to learn that creator David Lynch originally wanted Laura Palmer’s murder to remain unsolved. Lynch might have been able to entertain the audience without explaining the murder, but he would have risked alienating even the hard-core viewers. While “Lost” has succeeded so far in balancing the castaways’ pre- and post-crash stories, I don’t know how long it can keep that up.
At this point I expect a number of you are thinking that I am an idiot for bailing out on Supreme Power and not wanting to give “Lost” more of a chance, while continuing to buy a comic I don’t presently like. Sometimes it mystifies me too. I’ve watched maybe 20 random minutes of “Babylon 5” in my life and don’t have much of an impression about it either way. B5 fans say the investment of several seasons’ worth of viewing pays off in the end, but if you don’t like the show after a reasonable interval, what are the chances you’ll like it after two reasonable intervals? You can see where the third-season rule, or some corollary, would apply. Of course, the B5 model applies more to my current experience with Gotham Knights. I keep reading, hoping that it will either make sense or give way to something better.
So how much of a chance does a serial have to make its impression? Should there be a six-issue rule, or even a twelve-issue rule? I gave Supreme Power 12 issues to tell a decent story, and for me it failed. Lieberman’s run on Gotham Knights is about 18 issues and counting, but at least there it looks like things might at last be coming to a head, and with Infinite Crisis promising widespread changes, the book might even get a new writer.
The difference, at least between these two examples, seems to be in the work’s underlying structure and/or premise. I like Batman and am therefore predisposed to buy a Batman book, especially one which ostensibly feeds the hungry maw of continuity. I was willing to give Supreme Power its chance because of its premise; and I’ll keep watching “Lost” out of faith in its creative staff; but both of those have had to work harder. This may be a shallow failing of mine, but admitting the problem is the first step.
Still, although “writing for the trade” is often a criticism that stories are becoming more padded, it may well be developing a brighter-line “third-season rule” for comics. Part of my frustration with Supreme Power was that I gave it the equivalent of two trade paperbacks and it hadn’t told two distinct stories. (At that point it seemed to be riffing ad nauseum on Hyperion’s disillusionment.) Thus, even if those ubiquitous six-issue arcs produce some flabby stories, at least the end of part 6 can signal a waypoint for curious readers to jump on and bored readers to jump off.
It’s times like this I wish I’d paid more attention in my psychology classes, because I can see how this attitude applies to serialized comics and I wish I knew a better name for it. Fans call it “inertia,” and its expectations keep us reading despite poor track records.
At the moment, my personal poster-child for inertia is Batman: Gotham Knights. The current writer, A.J. Lieberman, came onto the title with great fanfare some eighteen months ago, although in hindsight I’m not sure if the fanfare was more for him and his new artist (Al Barrionuevo, who’s been fine) or for the return of Jeph Loeb and Jim Lee’s creation Hush. By chronicling the rise of Hush among Gotham’s criminals, Lieberman has tried to develop that underworld into its own community, along the lines of the Flash’s Rogues’ Gallery. On its own this is a fine idea, and one which has been explored off and on by Bat-writers for decades. Still, the results have been scattershot at best. I have no idea where Lieberman has been with his story, or where he’s going. The first four years of Gotham Knights were good enough to keep me buying the title for a while. Now it’s firmly in the grip of inertia and I am just holding on, hoping things will either start to get better or at least make more sense.
Supreme Power wasn’t so lucky, and I dropped it after the first 12 issues. It got too bogged down in minutiae and a fascination with its own world-building, such that the larger plot never got going. Maybe I am just a knuckle-dragger, but when you remake a faux-Justice League famous for taking over its Earth, you might expect people to want to see them ruling the world fairly early on. Flashbacks and other nonlinear storytelling devices would have done a lot in this regard.
Speaking of which, though, “Lost” started promisingly and now seems more fascinated with its characters than with moving its plots forward. I like “Lost” well enough, and it certainly has a comics-friendly writing staff, but sooner or later viewers like me will want more progress towards either getting off the island or discovering its mysteries. I was a big fan of “Twin Peaks” too, and was disappointed to learn that creator David Lynch originally wanted Laura Palmer’s murder to remain unsolved. Lynch might have been able to entertain the audience without explaining the murder, but he would have risked alienating even the hard-core viewers. While “Lost” has succeeded so far in balancing the castaways’ pre- and post-crash stories, I don’t know how long it can keep that up.
At this point I expect a number of you are thinking that I am an idiot for bailing out on Supreme Power and not wanting to give “Lost” more of a chance, while continuing to buy a comic I don’t presently like. Sometimes it mystifies me too. I’ve watched maybe 20 random minutes of “Babylon 5” in my life and don’t have much of an impression about it either way. B5 fans say the investment of several seasons’ worth of viewing pays off in the end, but if you don’t like the show after a reasonable interval, what are the chances you’ll like it after two reasonable intervals? You can see where the third-season rule, or some corollary, would apply. Of course, the B5 model applies more to my current experience with Gotham Knights. I keep reading, hoping that it will either make sense or give way to something better.
So how much of a chance does a serial have to make its impression? Should there be a six-issue rule, or even a twelve-issue rule? I gave Supreme Power 12 issues to tell a decent story, and for me it failed. Lieberman’s run on Gotham Knights is about 18 issues and counting, but at least there it looks like things might at last be coming to a head, and with Infinite Crisis promising widespread changes, the book might even get a new writer.
The difference, at least between these two examples, seems to be in the work’s underlying structure and/or premise. I like Batman and am therefore predisposed to buy a Batman book, especially one which ostensibly feeds the hungry maw of continuity. I was willing to give Supreme Power its chance because of its premise; and I’ll keep watching “Lost” out of faith in its creative staff; but both of those have had to work harder. This may be a shallow failing of mine, but admitting the problem is the first step.
Still, although “writing for the trade” is often a criticism that stories are becoming more padded, it may well be developing a brighter-line “third-season rule” for comics. Part of my frustration with Supreme Power was that I gave it the equivalent of two trade paperbacks and it hadn’t told two distinct stories. (At that point it seemed to be riffing ad nauseum on Hyperion’s disillusionment.) Thus, even if those ubiquitous six-issue arcs produce some flabby stories, at least the end of part 6 can signal a waypoint for curious readers to jump on and bored readers to jump off.
posted by Tom Bondurant @ 8:55 PM
2 Comments:
As I get older, I find it harder to invest myself in serial fiction, for whatever reason. Especially TV shows. I'm sure if I gave the time, I'd love Alias, Lost and a bucketful of shows, but sometimes that time isn't there. I totally get what you're saying.
When first checking out something, I use a One-Issue Rule. If it's not entertaining, I don't buy a second.
I get what you're saying though. If it catches you for a few issues and then starts to lose you, how long do you hang in there, hoping that it'll start to interest you again? I quit being thrilled with "24" in its second season, but I hung in for two more years. In hindsight, I shouldn't have. Regardless of how the seasons as a whole looked when they were finished, I was bored and frustrated with the individual episodes. I wasn't being entertained.
That's the key question we need to ask ourselves. Forgiving the occasional "off" installment, are we being consistently entertained every time we read a comic or watch a show? TV GUIDE's got an interesting article this week about the patience of viewers. Apparently they got lots of email complaints from LOST "fans" after the season finale because all the island's secrets hadn't been revealed yet. I don't get that because LOST consistently entertains me from week to week. Am I so caught up in the show that I want to know everything right now? YES! But I'm going to be patient and wait it out because the journey (in this case, anyway) is as fun as the destination.
Readers and viewers need to live more in the moment, but those moments also need to be worth living in.
Post a Comment
<< Home