The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
6 — Wednesday, November 9, 2022
The fatal flaw of teen TV
For the past three years, my
sister and I have been sporadically
watching
“Dawson’s
Creek.”
Through
intermittent
binge
periods we’ve borne witness to
the epic highs — Dawson’s (James
Van Der Beek, “Varsity Blues”)
caricatural memeified crying face
— and lows — Joey (Katie Holmes,
“Batman Begins”) and Pacey’s
(Joshua
Jackson,
“Fringe”)
inexplicable break-up — of what
is now a teen TV legend. With its
small-town setting of Capeside,
Massachusetts,
obscure
film
references and mildly pretentious
dialogue, the show was a certified
hit in its heyday. Recently, we
reached a new milestone while
watching season five: the dreaded
college years.
Maybe it’s simply the wear
and tear of one too many seasons
or the destabilizing shift in
environment, but something in
the teen TV blueprint seems to
set this phase up for failure. With
long-running shows, first seasons
get bogged down by expository
set-up, superficially hindered by
a lack of emotional attachment or
familiarity with the characters.
Early middle seasons tend to
hit a sweet spot; the characters
are worth rooting for, the plot
is not yet overly convoluted and
everything is heightened by the
freshly rejuvenated sophomore
effort. But the post-high-school
season? That’s the make-or-break
moment. The litmus test of truly
enduring teen television.
A few episodes in and it was
painstakingly obvious that the
show had fallen short of the
mark. Faltering at the sight
of a Capeside-less horizon, it
haphazardly made substantial
tonal
shifts
to
compensate.
Dawson’s Hollywood director
dreams were hastily crushed and
not even the addition of comedic
mediator Busy Phillips (“Freaks
and Geeks”) could save the show
from this inevitable slump or
its bright-eyed characters from
reckoning with reality. Diverting
the show’s original focus after
four seasons felt futile, especially
when it’s been built upon a very
specific period of adolescence, of
the simple everyday dramas that
absorb the monotony of small-
town teen life.
But this is no isolated incident.
As seasoned teen TV viewers, this
failure to smoothly transition into
adulthood was hardly surprising
for my sister and me. The post-
high-school season decline has
never been the exception but
rather the hard-and-fast rule.
But why is this the case? Why not
go out on a high note? Why do
countless shows give college the
old college try, only to taper out
into mediocrity and self-dug plot
holes a season or two later?
One fast, easy explanation is
money. Prior to the streaming-
service era of the last decade,
long-running shows were the
norm, sustained by primetime
slots that could draw in viewers
week
after
week
regardless
of
stale
plotlines
or
tired
punchlines. Exhibit A: Despite
the dip in quality of “Friends” in
its later seasons, each of the main
cast was taking home a million
dollars an episode. So that’s one
very obvious incentive to keep
a show going long beyond its
lifespan.
Another answer lies in the
fact that the CW — arguably the
most notable teen TV network
of the 2010s — was notorious for
stringing out kernels of successful
TV ventures for far too long.
Take “The Vampire Diaries,” for
instance. The first few seasons
were fantastic, but the decision
to swap out Mystic Falls High for
Whitmore College was a doomed
one. Seasons five and six were
sub-par, but once Nina Dobrev
(“Love Hard”) left, they really
should’ve pulled the plug. Instead,
they chugged on for another
two seasons without their main
character, and it got pitiful to
watch. Those endearingly absurd
supernatural plotlines began to
feel less excitingly shocking and
more messily strewn together
as a result of grossly repetitive
writing. Even if Dobrev had stuck
around, it already had one foot in
the proverbial coffin.
SERENA IRANI
Daily Arts Writer
Design by Tye Kalinovic
‘Star Wars: Tales of the Jedi’ is
the perfect addition to the Star
Wars universe
Z
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O
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M
I
S
S
I
O
N
S
The Road to
Zero Emissions
Learn about Zero
Emission Buses
The Ann Arbor Area Transportation
Authority is committed to the health
of our environment and community.
Join us to learn about zero emission
bus technology and how reducing the
emissions of our fleet can lead to cleaner
air for everyone.
Public Meeting Information:
Visit TheRide.org for public meeting
information and to learn more about
Zero Emission Buses.
Date: Tuesday, November 15th
Virtual Meeting via Zoom:
Time: 12:00 p.m.–1:00 p.m.
In-person Meeting:
Time: 6:00 p.m.– 7:30 p.m.
Location: Washtenaw County Learning
Resource Building
4135 Washtenaw Ave.
Ann Arbor, MI 48108
Tenet,’ ‘Dark’ and the death of character
David Lynch would be very
upset with the 2020 version of
me. 2020 Rami, trapped in his
little suburban basement, had no
access to a high quality screen.
He had no access to a state of the
art sound system. He had no blu-
rays of the latest films. What he
did have was his laptop, a shoddy
pair of headphones and a website
whose legality was questionable.
What should have been a viewing
experience
characterized
by
a chamber of rumbling sound
and overwhelming visuals was
… decidedly not that. For most
movies, this wasn’t a problem.
“The Father,” “Minari,” “Sound
of Metal” and the outstanding
“I’m Thinking of Ending Things”
survived the neolithic conditions
of my basement to leave some kind
of impact in my mind.
This
technique,
surprisingly
enough, did not work when I
watched
Christopher
Nolan’s
“Tenet,” a movie equal parts
ambitious and ill-timed. Instead
of delaying his bombastic summer
blockbuster, as pretty much every
other filmmaker did in the middle
of the greatest public health crisis
since 1918, he valiantly pushed on
to theaters. How could you blame
me for sailing the high seas to
watch it on my little PC? My tiny
setup took a lot away from the film.
Gone were the garish visuals and
sensory overload. What remained?
Not much. Nolan presented some
neat concepts. There were some
funny lines. But at the end of the
day, nothing in the movie mattered
to me. The strange monologues,
the “twists,” the batshit insane
final fight. It all felt empty.
Maybe I wasn’t a movie guy.
Or maybe I just needed to watch
“Tenet” in theaters. About a week
after watching “Tenet,” I moved
to the oft-mentioned sci-fi drama
“Dark” on Netflix. Focusing on
a
German
teenager’s
journey
through time and, ultimately, a
journey to find himself, the show
is undeniably impressive. Its plot
was as intricate as a Fabergé Egg,
with thousands of small features
and moving parts that constantly
wowed. There were twists and
turns
and
moments
I
never
expected. The show’s tangled web
of characters and family trees were
organized, seemingly seasons in
advance, to build a wide tapestry
out of its strange timeline. But
funnily enough, the same problem
I had with “Tenet” re-emerged:
After 26 hours of sci-fi drama, I
didn’t care. By the third season, I
had seen nearly every character
die multiple times, I had seen the
central town get time-nuked (do
not ask) four times, I had seen a
child bludgeoned by a rock (twice)
and two separate incestuous family
loops. Time after time after time,
the show found ways to subvert all
expectations to shock and awe, but
it failed to be shocking.
How could two separate works
of fiction, one focused on spectacle
and the other on plot, contain the
same core problem? It’s simple:
Neither contains human beings.
Sure, they looked like people. They
grinned, frowned, cried, laughed
and died. They went through all
the motions, but that didn’t make
them human, just human-shaped.
Take John David Washington’s
(“Malcolm & Marie”) character in
“Tenet” — the Protagonist. Who is
this guy? Is he kind? Does he care
about others? Is he an optimist?
Does he have goals besides doing
what he’s told? Nope. Minus some
occasional snark, there’s not even
a hint of personality in him. How
about Jonas (Louis Hofmann,
“Red Sparrow”), the protagonist of
“Dark”? Every single thing he does
in the show he does because he’s
told. Admittedly, he does have one
leg up over Washington’s character:
There are people around him he
cares for. His father, his girlfriend,
his missing friend and his mother
(Fun fact: two of those are the same
character). But does he actually
care? Does he do anything to show
that he cares, other than cry on
command when they’re hurt? After
his girlfriend, who is supposedly
the only one keeping him happy,
is murdered for the first time (do
not ask), what does he do? Does he
look for revenge? Does he try to go
back in time to resurrect her? Does
he fall into some kind of depressive
haze? Does he do literally anything
other than following the same
instructions
he
was
already
executing? For all of the above, the
answer is a resounding no.
Every other “character” in both
“Dark” & “Tenet” is the same. They
move where the plot dictates. They
have beliefs but no traits. Ideas but
no feelings. The worst part? This
wasn’t accidental. Washington’s
character isn’t just the protagonist
of
the
movie,
he’s
officially
credited as “The Protagonist.”
Nolan absolutely understood what
he was doing here. There was too
much going on in “Tenet”: strange
concepts, an unhinged plot, gaudy
visuals. Something had to give,
and the chosen lamb for Nolan’s
proverbial slaughter was character.
“Dark” functions similarly, as
an auxiliary storytelling device.
Netflix created an online character
guide for viewers. Instead of
recording any characters’ personal
aspects, there were paragraphs
chronicling their importance to
the plot.
RAMI MAHDI
Daily Arts Contributor
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Ever since the arrival of the
Star Wars franchise to Disney+,
the streaming platform has been
churning out new TV shows
almost faster than fans can
request them. From the recent
addition “Andor” to the fan-
favorite “The Mandalorian” that
brought us baby Yoda, the Star
Wars universe proved itself to
be — for better or worse — ever-
expanding. While the abundant
additions to the Star Wars world
have received a bundle of mixed
reviews, the latest series proved to
be, without a doubt, a resounding
success. “Star Wars: Tales of the
Jedi” is the perfect deep dive
into unseen moments from “Star
Wars” history, giving viewers a
glimpse into the past of beloved
characters with an ideal balance
of surprise character cameos and
critical backstory.
A six-episode mini-series, “Star
Wars: Tales of the Jedi” consists
of a series of vignettes that tell
the stories of two characters on
opposite sides of the rebellion:
fan favorite padawan Ahsoka
Tano (Ashley Eckstein, “Star
Wars: The Clone Wars”) and Jedi-
turned-Sith Count Dooku (Corey
Burton, “The Book of Boba Fett”).
With three of the six episodes
dedicated
to
each
character,
“Star Wars: Tales of the Jedi”
fills in the blanks left by the past
stories of the Clone Wars and the
Star Wars series as a whole. The
story follows each character from
different pivotal points in their
lives pre-imperial takeover, with
Ahsoka’s arc ranging from infancy
to her time as Anakin Skywalker’s
padawan and Dooku’s following
his break from the Jedi Order.
Each story is told in short episodes
of about 15 minutes, making the
content
easily
digestible
and
thoroughly action-packed. While
each installment is short, the
content is impactful, serving to
expand upon the nuances of the
characters and institutions of the
“Star Wars” universe in a way
that full-fledged shows, and even
movies, could not. In addition
to the surprising depth of the
show’s brief anecdotes, fans of the
franchise are also blessed with
brief yet beautiful cameos from
other favorite characters such
as Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson,
“Memory”),
Obi-Wan
Kenobi
(James Arnold Taylor, “Johnny
Test”) and Jedi Master Yaddle
(Bryce Dallas Howard, “Jurassic
Park”).
The
introduction
of
these classic characters into the
narrative paints a picture of the
relationship dynamics between
crucial characters that we didn’t
get a full glimpse of in the original
“Star Wars” series, making the
short series feel fully developed
and complete.
Perhaps
“Star
Wars:
Tales
of
the
Jedi’”s
biggest
accomplishment is its dissection
of the familiar institutions and
politics of the original series
— a large undertaking that the
show handles with grace. In
chronicling the adventures of two
very different characters with
diverging paths, the show is able
to explore two opposing sides of
an ongoing conflict in a surprising
amount of detail. In the episodes
of Dooku’s story arc, we see a
growing breach between himself
and the Jedi Order caused by
more than just the Empire’s evil
influence. With each episode and
Jedi mission, the questionable
politics of the Jedi order are made
apparent through Dooku’s eyes
as he comes face-to-face with
the destructive effects of the
Order’s political neutrality on
the people of the galaxy. While
a deep exploration of social class
and intergalactic politics isn’t
something you might expect from
an animated mini-series, “Star
Wars: Tales of the Jedi” certainly
delivers.
ANNABEL CURRAN
Daily Arts Writer
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Design by Abby Schreck