My TV Friends

I just finished watching the original commentaries on the Spaced series. For those unfamiliar with Spaced, it is the television series Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright, and Nick Frost did before Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. In a word: awesome. Even with the commentary on (and perhaps because of) I felt sad that the last episode of the series was ending. The creators were thanking everyone involved and the image is made for feeling a sense of loss that there will be no more adventures with these characters. Listening to commentaries amplifies certain feelings because they are so casual and unscripted. They feel intimate. These people are talking to me!
Anyway, I realized that this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. Nearly every TV series I own that has ended leaves me feeling this way (commentary or no, though Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared commentaries hold a special place for me since I watched them all while I was alone living in Boston). Good television sucks you into the lives of the characters and makes them so believable and complex that it’s like having friends over whenever you watch. This got me wondering why I never feel this way about movies.

For all intents and purposes, I like movies much more than TV. I watch about four shows regularly while I’m constantly watching new films. I think it’s easier to make a bad show than movie since shows are designed to not only appeal to the masses, but also need them to want to stick around. Why do you think there are so many cop and medical shows? I feel like I’m watching the same thing on an endless loop, but many (my mom included) enjoy the familiarity.

That’s not to say that all films are good. I’m of the opinion that most of what is released these days is complete shit. Rarely do my opinions align with Academy opinions. But there is so much film history easily available that I don’t need to get bogged down in what is currently in theaters (I shudder to think about what life would be like in this day and age without home video technology, at least there would be more revival theaters).
The obvious answer is that we spend so much more time with television characters than with film characters. I twenty episode season compared to two hours is hardly fair. So much more character development can be done in that time. Pacing and plot, while still important, can be sacrificed for certain indulgences. In shows like Spaced or the UK The Office, they knew when they were going to end and acted accordingly. All loose ends get tied up. Characters wind up where the audience wants them and wants to see what would happen next. Suddenly, there is a void. Of course, these series were fleeting to begin with. The US audience isn’t used to spending so little time with them.

Then there are the series that go on for years and become household institutions. Seinfeld. M*A*S*H*. Cheers. The Cosby Show. These were weekly visitors for so long that it almost feels like the death of a family member when they leave (OK, maybe someone moving away). Tears are shed and it’s a bit surreal that they aren’t coming back except in reruns.

However, the TV shows that have the most power to reduce me to tears are the ones that met an early and unwarranted death. That’s not to say The Tick or Andy Richter Controls the Universe make me emotionally unstable. It’s shows like Arrested Development, which ended with the words, “It was… Arrested Development” that bring home that it’s over (and the ensuing, “Maybe a movie…” line). And by far the worst for me is Freaks and Geeks. A show with that much humor and heart had so far to go. I admit, I didn’t watch it when it was on TV and I kick myself for it now. Watching the end of the series when the characters are all in different places going different ways makes me need to see what happened to them. The one season of television (which didn’t even get completely screened initially) is as close to perfection as the medium can get.

And I think that’s the crux of why I don’t feel the same about characters in films leaving me. I essentially know where they are going. There is little surprise, and if there is, it’s generally visceral. Fleeting. Film characters aren’t memorable for who they are, but what they represent. There is a wall between them and the audience. One thing I believe (well-written) television does better than film is making the viewer relate to the characters, so that even something as silly and frivolous as Futurama can elicit strong, resonating emotional responses from the audience (you can ask my little sister about that). This isn’t to say that movies can’t or don’t do this, but that TV is a better conduit for it.