Television

As June Thomas points out, the recent crop of one hour dramas aren’t satisfied with [simply solving crime](http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2011/10/unforgettable_person_of_interest_why_the_next_generation_of_proc.single.html):

> Why are TV writers making their mysteries less mysterious? I think it’s because lots of new procedurals try to fit more than just a case of the week into the 44-minute running time. Most shows also have a serial element, a mystery — usually a quest for elusive information — that lasts throughout the whole series. In the case of Unforgettable, it’s Carrie’s attempt to remember the day her sister was murdered; on Person of Interest, it’s a driven cop’s attempt to capture Reese, who is wanted for a number of serious crimes around the world.

On “pure” procedurals like CSI or Law & Order, ongoing character arcs are squeezed in the margins, with an off-hand comment here, a long look there. You could watch three seasons before you meet a character’s wife — and when you do, watch out, because she’ll likely be dead soon.

With their Sudoku-like straightforwardness, traditional procedurals are easy to watch but hard to obsess over, with the same low barriers to entry making it easy to leave. To use the modern lingo, they’re not *sticky.*

I haven’t watched either Unforgettable or Person of Interest, but the procedural-plus genre can work: consider Sherlock, which features twisty mysteries, ongoing arcs and plenty of snogging. ((And no, I don’t think Sherlock’s epic episode length is the main thing that makes it possible. Buffy and Angel were short and largely procedural (monster of the week), but very arc-y.))

Procedural-plus shows are simply more difficult to pull off, both at the whiteboard stage and in the finished episode. Once you’ve established the stakes of the A-plot — a killer is on the loose! — any scene that doesn’t address that feels like filler. So writers need to find ways to weave character moments into plot scenes, which can be a bear.

Too often, what you end up with is neither plotty enough for crime fans or sophisticated enough for the drama crowd.

Peter Aspden remembers when TV wasn’t art, and certainly wasn’t something to [talk about seriously](http://www.slate.com/id/2304569/pagenum/all/):

> When I was growing up in the 1970s, the lowliest form of cultural consumption was to stay home and watch television. All other art forms, any other art forms, were fine. To have made the effort to leave the house, travel to a temple of culture and see a performance or exhibition was proof of a refined engagement with the arts. To slouch on a sofa and be in thrall to a grotesque diet of cop shows, quizzes and soap operas was to opt out of culture altogether. […]

> How different things are today. At the beginning of the 21st century, there is nothing sharper in the cultural firmament than American television writing. You don’t have to brave the multiplex or pay exorbitant theatre ticket prices to watch the most compelling drama, the most scabrous satire, the most committed actors. […] The ultimate act of cultural immersion used to involve going to see a Polish mime troupe in a downtown warehouse that couldn’t afford its heating bills. Today, it is to sink into a DVD box set for an evening of home-comfort transcendence.

It’s an oft-made point, but: the main reason you don’t find many big-budget feature dramas — or even breakout indie dramas — is that cable television has sucked away that audience. It’s a vicious circle: feature dramas tank, which makes studios even more reluctant to greenlight them, so the audience who would see them stays home and enjoys another excellent season of Mad Men.

But for writers, it’s not altogether bad. If you wanted to make a story like The Godfather today, would you do it as a feature or an HBO series?

Sure, I’d love for Hollywood to make more serious feature dramas, but I wouldn’t give them up for the outstanding series we have on TV right now.