(Originally published at Audiences Everywhere on 2/19/15)
Television is in the midst of a revolution, and it has been for some time. With the growing popularity of cable shows, premium networks and binge-watch friendly services like Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon, we’ve seen a shift in the narrative focus of series. In light of this popularity we’ve seen television become more like movies and movies more like television (or at least how we used to think of television), bringing the two mediums closer together than ever before. Not only are we seeing less of a focus on case of the week dramas (though we’re still in no way lacking in cop and hospital shows), we’re seeing greater focus placed on long game story-telling that are built with a clear endgame in mind with shows like Breaking Bad or House of Cards. There’s something recognizably novelistic about this approach. So, despite the fact that movies have placed greater emphasis on serialized story-telling, and building franchised universes through spin-offs, (much in the way CSI and Law and Order have done over so many years) audiences have begun to anticipate and rely on endings in terms of television. Instead of ten to twelve seasons of varying quality and rotating cast members, we want five to seven seasons of consistency. But even this multiple season approach is changing, leading to the re-emergence of anthology shows, a format that can be viewed as a narrative tradition.
The recent popularity of season long anthology shows like True Detective, Fargo, American Horror Story, and episodic anthologies like Black Mirror, owe their success to the past. When we think of anthology shows, we’re hard pressed not to immediately think of The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, Night Gallery, and Tales From the Crypt. Like the current output of anthologies, these shows, known for high concept setups and shocking endings, have their roots in pulp magazines like Amazing Stories and Weird Tales. While many of these early collections of short stories (which were precursors to comic books) offered little in the way of depth or character development, they offered unrestrained imagination (so unrestrained that a number of the magazines were banned due to their lurid and sensational content). Content wise, these tales of aliens, inventive technology, troubled detectives, occult leaders, witches, and murderers are not so far removed from the anthology shows that fill our television screens today. The disposable nature of these stories from the first half of the 20th century are the kinds of stories that are winning Emmys today.
So how did we move from pulp to prestige? Part of the shift comes from the increase in genre-friendly audiences across mediums. We owe a lot of the credit for the popularization of genre stories (science-fiction, horror, mystery, and western) to Pulp Magazines. While literary types may have bemoaned the subject matter and writing, these collections of short stories inspired a new generation of writers who found a way to blend the entertainment factor with social and self-examination.
While anthology shows have existed in every form imaginable (including medical, and religious) the most popular of them take cues from macabre. This is largely because of The Twilight Zone, which grew out of Rod Serling’s childhood fascination with Pulp Magazines, and the 1955 murder of Emmett Till. Along with writers Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson, Serling transformed genre fiction into something of importance, a means of reflection and a way to explore real world issues through the fantastic. What made The Twilight Zone so effective was how quickly it could situate the viewer in this new world without lengthy exposition, leaving little time or desire to pick apart the concept.
Serling, Matheson, Bradbury, and their contemporaries put meaning into pulp and had the admirable ability to construct complex characters without the need for lengthy backstories. But as the era of political turmoil and the Civil Rights Movement drew to a close, so did the popularity of message based genre television. George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, two men who were inspired by pulp tales themselves, ushered in the blockbuster era which led high-concept genre stories to become the focus of movies. While anthology shows continued into the 80s and 90s, (an Amazing Stories TV show inspired by the magazine was even developed by Spielberg) they became more about the twist and entertainment value, and less about topical relevance. This shift was furthered by the dwindling popularity of the short story market and emphasis placed on the bestselling novel. The majority of TV became a landscape of low stakes concepts that weren’t flashy enough for movies, mini-series based off of said bestselling books, and god-awful reality shows.
Now in the 2010s, well after the start of the internet age and Y2K-level technological scares, we’re once again drawn to the anthology show and the idea of using the fantastic to delve into the darker side of our societies. In our post 9/11 world, it’s also become necessary for us to look inwards again, determine who we are and what we believe. As a culture of pop culture junkies, we’re drawn to the idea of consuming as many stories as possible, and anthologies, whether seasonal or episodic, allow us to do so while offering a chance at the reflection Serling once gave his generation. In a rather brilliant move by showrunners, anthology shows have all found a way to differentiate themselves from one another (even more of a feat when you consider how rarely that happens in television). American Horror Story takes our American values and expectations and twists them with horror archetypes. Fargo creates modern parables concerned with morality. True Detective refashions gumshoe and buddy cop tropes and turns them into musings on the dangers of pop culture and philosophy. Black Mirror, the closest spiritual successor to The Twilight Zone, offers darkly humorous, and tragic glimpses into a future that could be our tomorrow. Together, these anthology shows are a reflection of us–what we value, what we don’t, and how easily our notions of reality can be shattered.
Anthologies allow us to explore every aspect of our world in a variety of ways, and while some seasons or episodes may be less rewarding than others, audiences still have a central mystery to explore and consider without the seasons of plot twists and introductions that ultimately lead nowhere (ala Lost). While many of us may claim the journey is more important than the destination, as TV fans we’ve become a society shouting, “show me the ending, and you better make it worth my time!” With at least three more announced anthology shows (Tales from the Darkside, American Crime Story, Scream Queens) coming this year, it looks like the format is truly back. Let’s hope that ending sticks.
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