Post by Naj on Aug 27, 2006 8:43:10 GMT -5
The plot thickens. And twists. And turns. And tangles. And...
This season, storytelling gets complicated -- and satisfying
By Matthew Gilbert, Globe Staff | August 27, 2006
There are no new TV stories under the sun. Or at least viewers of ``Cold-Case-Numbers-CSI-Law-&-Order-Criminal-Minds-Bones" may feel that way when the 83,430th perp has delivered his tearful last-minute confession.
Apparently a gnawing case of ``Lost"- and ``24"- envy will goad even the most safety-obsessed of programming execs into innovative thinking.
Historically, most fall pilots sent in advance to critics haven't started off a new TV story so much as encapsulated it. Right up front in episode 1, the producers and writers would disclose everything about the characters and their relationships, to sell the series. Those pilots were like the theatrical-movie trailers that machine-gun too much information at you, and spoil plot surprises.
But a good number of the 2006-07 pilots behave more like evasive teasers, dangling only the promise of more concrete info in future episodes. For once, I have no idea where many new shows will go -- ABC's inventive Taye Diggs thriller ``Day Break," for instance, with its ``Groundhog Day" structure.
Similarly, the fine pilot for ABC's ``Six Degrees," in which six strangers unknowingly alter one another's lives, only hints at the connections to come. It's TV storytelling at its most elliptical. We see these New Yorkers in a relay race of sorts as they handoff the plot baton to one another, but we don't quite know what's unfolding. Good enough to inspire ABC to slot it after ``Grey's Anatomy," ``Six Degrees" was co-executive produced by the strongest force in TV's move toward narrative ingenuity, J.J. Abrams. Like Dick Wolf and David E. Kelley before him, Abrams is the current icon of TV-forward programming. His ``Lost" and ``Alias" are models of contemporary unconventionality.
The interlocking-story approach of ``Six Degrees" also defines NBC's intriguing sci-fi drama ``Heroes," which will slowly reveal the connections between people who have superhuman abilities. ABC's grimly riveting ``The Nine," too, will loosely link nine strangers, each of whom is scarred by a 52-hour hostage standoff during a bank robbery. Surely ``Lost" inspired some of these overlapping-strangers themes; one of the more popular aspects of the series is when characters pop up in one another's back stories.
Typically, series TV has avoided these kinds of experiments. Fragmented narratives make audiences commit, participate, work; they put us through a fact-finding experience where we try to piece everything together every week. On a straightforward workplace series such as NBC's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," there's nothing essential to figure out. We just watch the story of sketch-comedy writers move ahead. But on the likes of ``Lost," we're cast out to sea to swim for ourselves. We want to find out that these particular people are on this particular island for a particular reason, rather than just because. We hunt for a master plan behind all the seemingly random connections.
But there are countless ways to tell a story, to twist up and double back and delay a narrative, and this fall TV is all about experimenting with them. Between now and Thanksgiving, the networks will demonstrate a new interest in the art and science of TV storytelling with their best roster of series in years.
Apparently a gnawing case of ``Lost"- and ``24"- envy will goad even the most safety-obsessed of programming execs into innovative thinking.
Historically, most fall pilots sent in advance to critics haven't started off a new TV story so much as encapsulated it. Right up front in episode 1, the producers and writers would disclose everything about the characters and their relationships, to sell the series. Those pilots were like the theatrical-movie trailers that machine-gun too much information at you, and spoil plot surprises.
But a good number of the 2006-07 pilots behave more like evasive teasers, dangling only the promise of more concrete info in future episodes. For once, I have no idea where many new shows will go -- ABC's inventive Taye Diggs thriller ``Day Break," for instance, with its ``Groundhog Day" structure.
Similarly, the fine pilot for ABC's ``Six Degrees," in which six strangers unknowingly alter one another's lives, only hints at the connections to come. It's TV storytelling at its most elliptical. We see these New Yorkers in a relay race of sorts as they handoff the plot baton to one another, but we don't quite know what's unfolding. Good enough to inspire ABC to slot it after ``Grey's Anatomy," ``Six Degrees" was co-executive produced by the strongest force in TV's move toward narrative ingenuity, J.J. Abrams. Like Dick Wolf and David E. Kelley before him, Abrams is the current icon of TV-forward programming. His ``Lost" and ``Alias" are models of contemporary unconventionality.
The interlocking-story approach of ``Six Degrees" also defines NBC's intriguing sci-fi drama ``Heroes," which will slowly reveal the connections between people who have superhuman abilities. ABC's grimly riveting ``The Nine," too, will loosely link nine strangers, each of whom is scarred by a 52-hour hostage standoff during a bank robbery. Surely ``Lost" inspired some of these overlapping-strangers themes; one of the more popular aspects of the series is when characters pop up in one another's back stories.
Typically, series TV has avoided these kinds of experiments. Fragmented narratives make audiences commit, participate, work; they put us through a fact-finding experience where we try to piece everything together every week. On a straightforward workplace series such as NBC's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," there's nothing essential to figure out. We just watch the story of sketch-comedy writers move ahead. But on the likes of ``Lost," we're cast out to sea to swim for ourselves. We want to find out that these particular people are on this particular island for a particular reason, rather than just because. We hunt for a master plan behind all the seemingly random connections.
A master plan? Yes, even TV can make us yearn for God, or a godlike presence, who has a purpose for everything in a story. Indeed, a creator such as Abrams may have no endgame in mind, and still our desire to find reason persists. That hunger for plot sense is what can make these series so addictive.
Perhaps some brave TV auteur will come up with a series whose plot moves in reverse, like the movie ``Memento"?
Another narrative trick this season is -- you guessed it -- the season-long plot arc pioneered by Fox's ``24." This method also asks viewers to work -- to watch every episode, to keep the clues straight, and to wait a long time for a payoff.
Since Fox has done well with ``Prison Break" as well as ``24," it's trying its luck with a third stretched-out plot this season on ``Vanished." About the kidnapping of a senator's wife, the drama rejects the traditional self-enclosed episode approach of ``Without a Trace." NBC's ``Kidnapped" also relies on a long, steady build up of facts, when the son of a wealthy New York family is taken. The plot of ``Day Break" will pivot on the same day for the season, and the best new comedy, ``The Knights of Prosperity," will find its crooks spending the season on one caper -- robbing Mick Jagger's apartment.
Of course tried and true TV storytelling is still afoot. And, surprising even the most jaded critic, many of those shows are encouraging and deserving of praise. Aside from a few newbies, most notably Fox's egregious sitcom ``Happy Hour," the less original series don't condescend to or insult viewers.
Fox's ``Justice," starring Victor Garber, is a shrewd legal series that takes on the brave new world of jury engineering and Court TV. ``Shark" is also a case-a-week legal series, but it's distinguished by James Woods as a ``House"-like genius. Aaron Sorkin's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" is a razor-sharp workplace drama; ``Friday Night Lights" is a thoughtful football-team drama; and ``Ugly Betty" is a lively fashion-world sendup.
We know where each of these more traditional shows will take us, and it doesn't look like a bad place to visit.
Plot Thickens
This season, storytelling gets complicated -- and satisfying
By Matthew Gilbert, Globe Staff | August 27, 2006
There are no new TV stories under the sun. Or at least viewers of ``Cold-Case-Numbers-CSI-Law-&-Order-Criminal-Minds-Bones" may feel that way when the 83,430th perp has delivered his tearful last-minute confession.
Apparently a gnawing case of ``Lost"- and ``24"- envy will goad even the most safety-obsessed of programming execs into innovative thinking.
Historically, most fall pilots sent in advance to critics haven't started off a new TV story so much as encapsulated it. Right up front in episode 1, the producers and writers would disclose everything about the characters and their relationships, to sell the series. Those pilots were like the theatrical-movie trailers that machine-gun too much information at you, and spoil plot surprises.
But a good number of the 2006-07 pilots behave more like evasive teasers, dangling only the promise of more concrete info in future episodes. For once, I have no idea where many new shows will go -- ABC's inventive Taye Diggs thriller ``Day Break," for instance, with its ``Groundhog Day" structure.
Similarly, the fine pilot for ABC's ``Six Degrees," in which six strangers unknowingly alter one another's lives, only hints at the connections to come. It's TV storytelling at its most elliptical. We see these New Yorkers in a relay race of sorts as they handoff the plot baton to one another, but we don't quite know what's unfolding. Good enough to inspire ABC to slot it after ``Grey's Anatomy," ``Six Degrees" was co-executive produced by the strongest force in TV's move toward narrative ingenuity, J.J. Abrams. Like Dick Wolf and David E. Kelley before him, Abrams is the current icon of TV-forward programming. His ``Lost" and ``Alias" are models of contemporary unconventionality.
The interlocking-story approach of ``Six Degrees" also defines NBC's intriguing sci-fi drama ``Heroes," which will slowly reveal the connections between people who have superhuman abilities. ABC's grimly riveting ``The Nine," too, will loosely link nine strangers, each of whom is scarred by a 52-hour hostage standoff during a bank robbery. Surely ``Lost" inspired some of these overlapping-strangers themes; one of the more popular aspects of the series is when characters pop up in one another's back stories.
Typically, series TV has avoided these kinds of experiments. Fragmented narratives make audiences commit, participate, work; they put us through a fact-finding experience where we try to piece everything together every week. On a straightforward workplace series such as NBC's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," there's nothing essential to figure out. We just watch the story of sketch-comedy writers move ahead. But on the likes of ``Lost," we're cast out to sea to swim for ourselves. We want to find out that these particular people are on this particular island for a particular reason, rather than just because. We hunt for a master plan behind all the seemingly random connections.
But there are countless ways to tell a story, to twist up and double back and delay a narrative, and this fall TV is all about experimenting with them. Between now and Thanksgiving, the networks will demonstrate a new interest in the art and science of TV storytelling with their best roster of series in years.
Apparently a gnawing case of ``Lost"- and ``24"- envy will goad even the most safety-obsessed of programming execs into innovative thinking.
Historically, most fall pilots sent in advance to critics haven't started off a new TV story so much as encapsulated it. Right up front in episode 1, the producers and writers would disclose everything about the characters and their relationships, to sell the series. Those pilots were like the theatrical-movie trailers that machine-gun too much information at you, and spoil plot surprises.
But a good number of the 2006-07 pilots behave more like evasive teasers, dangling only the promise of more concrete info in future episodes. For once, I have no idea where many new shows will go -- ABC's inventive Taye Diggs thriller ``Day Break," for instance, with its ``Groundhog Day" structure.
Similarly, the fine pilot for ABC's ``Six Degrees," in which six strangers unknowingly alter one another's lives, only hints at the connections to come. It's TV storytelling at its most elliptical. We see these New Yorkers in a relay race of sorts as they handoff the plot baton to one another, but we don't quite know what's unfolding. Good enough to inspire ABC to slot it after ``Grey's Anatomy," ``Six Degrees" was co-executive produced by the strongest force in TV's move toward narrative ingenuity, J.J. Abrams. Like Dick Wolf and David E. Kelley before him, Abrams is the current icon of TV-forward programming. His ``Lost" and ``Alias" are models of contemporary unconventionality.
The interlocking-story approach of ``Six Degrees" also defines NBC's intriguing sci-fi drama ``Heroes," which will slowly reveal the connections between people who have superhuman abilities. ABC's grimly riveting ``The Nine," too, will loosely link nine strangers, each of whom is scarred by a 52-hour hostage standoff during a bank robbery. Surely ``Lost" inspired some of these overlapping-strangers themes; one of the more popular aspects of the series is when characters pop up in one another's back stories.
Typically, series TV has avoided these kinds of experiments. Fragmented narratives make audiences commit, participate, work; they put us through a fact-finding experience where we try to piece everything together every week. On a straightforward workplace series such as NBC's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," there's nothing essential to figure out. We just watch the story of sketch-comedy writers move ahead. But on the likes of ``Lost," we're cast out to sea to swim for ourselves. We want to find out that these particular people are on this particular island for a particular reason, rather than just because. We hunt for a master plan behind all the seemingly random connections.
A master plan? Yes, even TV can make us yearn for God, or a godlike presence, who has a purpose for everything in a story. Indeed, a creator such as Abrams may have no endgame in mind, and still our desire to find reason persists. That hunger for plot sense is what can make these series so addictive.
Perhaps some brave TV auteur will come up with a series whose plot moves in reverse, like the movie ``Memento"?
Another narrative trick this season is -- you guessed it -- the season-long plot arc pioneered by Fox's ``24." This method also asks viewers to work -- to watch every episode, to keep the clues straight, and to wait a long time for a payoff.
Since Fox has done well with ``Prison Break" as well as ``24," it's trying its luck with a third stretched-out plot this season on ``Vanished." About the kidnapping of a senator's wife, the drama rejects the traditional self-enclosed episode approach of ``Without a Trace." NBC's ``Kidnapped" also relies on a long, steady build up of facts, when the son of a wealthy New York family is taken. The plot of ``Day Break" will pivot on the same day for the season, and the best new comedy, ``The Knights of Prosperity," will find its crooks spending the season on one caper -- robbing Mick Jagger's apartment.
Of course tried and true TV storytelling is still afoot. And, surprising even the most jaded critic, many of those shows are encouraging and deserving of praise. Aside from a few newbies, most notably Fox's egregious sitcom ``Happy Hour," the less original series don't condescend to or insult viewers.
Fox's ``Justice," starring Victor Garber, is a shrewd legal series that takes on the brave new world of jury engineering and Court TV. ``Shark" is also a case-a-week legal series, but it's distinguished by James Woods as a ``House"-like genius. Aaron Sorkin's ``Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" is a razor-sharp workplace drama; ``Friday Night Lights" is a thoughtful football-team drama; and ``Ugly Betty" is a lively fashion-world sendup.
We know where each of these more traditional shows will take us, and it doesn't look like a bad place to visit.
Plot Thickens
Lots of plot thickenings 
