Remakes, sequels, series – what do they have in common? They start with a source and then build on it. Remakes usually take the first versions and attempt to “fix” them or re-imagine them. Sequels continue the plot or take the same characters and start a new one. Series can actually be a combination of both sequel and remake. This is common with TV shows: the first season is fresh, if not totally in its stride; the second season harnesses the momentum of the first and makes the show better; and so on with the third and the fourth; around the fifth or sixth, things start to get stale (or are already so stale the only thing left to do is make toast), thus the next season devotes itself to going back to the earlier seasons, finding the best parts of the show and then reinventing them.
Personally, I think seven seasons is enough for any show – especially shows that have 22 episodes per season – whether the episode is a half hour or an hour long. (In Britain seasons are usually 6-9 episodes, and some day I’m going to ask someone why that is, but I still think the rule applies.) There are exceptions, particularly when episodes have little thematic or sequential relation to each other, but even in these cases, the format itself can become dull. It’s a rare show that can go on and on without fluctuations in quality or concept. The same goes for remakes or sequels.
It’s easy for a series to get stale because you have to keep generating conflicts in order to maintain interest in the story. Once one conflict is resolved or a relationship has reached its peak, there is an inevitable decline. Another conflict takes its place and we begin again, but since most of the characters are still the same, relationships become “incestuous.” Meaning, best friends and siblings swap partners like toys, and characters that have no reason to get together aside from their being around each other physically, miraculously discover their undying love for each other. In terms of personality, characters make complete reversals or turn into caricatures of themselves.
These things are not impossible, but given the frequency in which they occur, they stretch credibility. Character development becomes artificial, dictated by plot necessity, rather than psychological complexity. A good way to avoid all this is to bring in new characters and phase out others. You don’t have to kill them off or anything, but let them run their course and find a plausible exit for them. You can always bring them back. Otherwise you end up juggling too many characters and too many storylines.
Obviously, there are all kinds of variables you can’t control: the acting, for one. But as I’ve said before, your job isn’t to worry about production. You will probably have little or no say in it anyway. Make sure the writing is the best it can possibly be. It seems I’ve strayed a little too far into screenwriting and totally neglected book-writing, but books can be plagued by the same flaws. In a way, it’s worse when a book sequel goes astray, because then the author is fully to blame – you can’t fault it to bad production.
A few other tips:
Foresight and flexibility. Develop long-term plotlines/ideas in advance; keep a rough time trajectory in mind; always remember where, how, and why you started. This should prevent you from getting lost along the way and help you preserve narrative coherence.
Establishing independence. If the sequels are contingent, find a good way to get through the exposition, including relevant details from the previous film/book. Don’t assume everyone has seen/read the first one or even knows there’s a first one to begin with. The work should be able to stand on its own, even if the previous one ended in a type of cliffhanger.
Working backwards. Or, making sure that when you watch/read everything from the beginning, the plot twists still work, and, let’s say, certain characters aren’t unintentionally attracted to their sisters.
Funny numbers. Nail down the little details, especially statistics like character ages, birthdays, and addresses to prevent those annoying continuity errors.
Unnecessary isolation. This is especially pertinent to remakes – you often read that writers/directors avoid watching the original versions in order to give a fresh interpretation. While I technically agree that it’s good to give your own interpretation top priority, at some point you have to expose yourself what’s already been done. If anything, it can help you avoid making the same mistakes and clarify your own concept even further.
Next time on Technical Saturday... turning books into movies – some thoughts on adaptation.
Personally, I think seven seasons is enough for any show – especially shows that have 22 episodes per season – whether the episode is a half hour or an hour long. (In Britain seasons are usually 6-9 episodes, and some day I’m going to ask someone why that is, but I still think the rule applies.) There are exceptions, particularly when episodes have little thematic or sequential relation to each other, but even in these cases, the format itself can become dull. It’s a rare show that can go on and on without fluctuations in quality or concept. The same goes for remakes or sequels.
It’s easy for a series to get stale because you have to keep generating conflicts in order to maintain interest in the story. Once one conflict is resolved or a relationship has reached its peak, there is an inevitable decline. Another conflict takes its place and we begin again, but since most of the characters are still the same, relationships become “incestuous.” Meaning, best friends and siblings swap partners like toys, and characters that have no reason to get together aside from their being around each other physically, miraculously discover their undying love for each other. In terms of personality, characters make complete reversals or turn into caricatures of themselves.
These things are not impossible, but given the frequency in which they occur, they stretch credibility. Character development becomes artificial, dictated by plot necessity, rather than psychological complexity. A good way to avoid all this is to bring in new characters and phase out others. You don’t have to kill them off or anything, but let them run their course and find a plausible exit for them. You can always bring them back. Otherwise you end up juggling too many characters and too many storylines.
Obviously, there are all kinds of variables you can’t control: the acting, for one. But as I’ve said before, your job isn’t to worry about production. You will probably have little or no say in it anyway. Make sure the writing is the best it can possibly be. It seems I’ve strayed a little too far into screenwriting and totally neglected book-writing, but books can be plagued by the same flaws. In a way, it’s worse when a book sequel goes astray, because then the author is fully to blame – you can’t fault it to bad production.
A few other tips:
Foresight and flexibility. Develop long-term plotlines/ideas in advance; keep a rough time trajectory in mind; always remember where, how, and why you started. This should prevent you from getting lost along the way and help you preserve narrative coherence.
Establishing independence. If the sequels are contingent, find a good way to get through the exposition, including relevant details from the previous film/book. Don’t assume everyone has seen/read the first one or even knows there’s a first one to begin with. The work should be able to stand on its own, even if the previous one ended in a type of cliffhanger.
Working backwards. Or, making sure that when you watch/read everything from the beginning, the plot twists still work, and, let’s say, certain characters aren’t unintentionally attracted to their sisters.
Funny numbers. Nail down the little details, especially statistics like character ages, birthdays, and addresses to prevent those annoying continuity errors.
Unnecessary isolation. This is especially pertinent to remakes – you often read that writers/directors avoid watching the original versions in order to give a fresh interpretation. While I technically agree that it’s good to give your own interpretation top priority, at some point you have to expose yourself what’s already been done. If anything, it can help you avoid making the same mistakes and clarify your own concept even further.
Next time on Technical Saturday... turning books into movies – some thoughts on adaptation.
2 comments:
Although I don't get hooked on television series very often, I was peeved when I only 'discovered' Northern Exposure half-way through its penultimate season. The repeats that ran at the end of that series highlighted that I'd missed something worth watching.
Whilst it took a few years for each season to be produced on DVD, I finally got to see it all and it's interesting to see how so much more confident the writing and acting becomes with each season.
It's great watching a show take off, especially if it can keep up the momentum. A 22 episode season is difficult to pull off. Even if it's only a 22 minute show, altogther it's about 8 hours - four times longer than the average movie.
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