Wondering How Long We’ll Care

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

We’ve got the SAG-AFTRA strike.  Big Studios and groups like Netflix seem to be very interested in replacing real people with AI – and we know they won’t stop no matter the deals made.  Ron Pearlman and Fran Drescher are apparently leading the Butlerian Jihad early.

As studios, writers, and actors battle I find myself caring about the people – but caring far less about the media produced.  There’s so many reasons not to care about Big Media.

You’d think I’d be thrilled to see Star Wars, Marvel Comics, and Star Trek everywhere!  But it’s so many things are omnipresent it sucks the oxygen out of the room.  Even when something is new, it can be overhyped.  If it’s not everywhere, it’s marketed everywhere and I get tired of it all.  Also damn, how much anime is there now?

The threat of AI replacing actors and writers removes that personal connection to actors and writers and creators.  There was already a gap anyway as groups of writers created shows and episodes, abstracting the connections with the creators.  The headlong rush into AI only threatens to make me care less – I can’t go to a convention and shake hands with a computer program or be inspired to write just as good as a program.

We have plenty of content made already anyway.  I could do with a good review of Fellini, maybe rewatch Gravity Falls again, and I recently threatened to watch all of One Piece for inexplicable reasons.  Plus of course I have tons of books.

Finally, there’s all sorts of small creators new and old I should take a look at.  Maybe I don’t need the big names anymore.  Hell, the small creators are easier to connect with.

Meanwhile all of the above complaints are pretty damned petty considering the planet is in a climate crisis and several countries are falling apart politically and economically.  I’m not going to care about your perfect AI show when the sky turns orange because of a forest fire.

I have a gut feel I’m not alone in the possibility of just kind of losing interest in the big mediascape.  We may have different triggers for giving up, but there’s a lot of possible triggers.  Plus, again, potential world crises create all sorts of possibilities.

Maybe that’s why the “Barbenheimer” meme was so joyful, with people discussing these two very different films as a kind of single phenomena.  It was spontaneous, it was silly, it was self-mocking.  Something just arose out of the big mediascape (and two apparently good films), a very human moment it seems we’re all too lacking.

Maybe it’s a reminder we can care about our media.  But it the chaotic times we face in a strange era of media, I wonder if we’ll remember it as a fond exception.

Steven Savage

Expected Enjoyment

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I was discussing popular works with Serdar, and both had experienced the pressure to enjoy something everyone else was enjoying.  I felt it had gotten worse in the last two decades and was honestly getting the hell on my nerves.  There were more choices, but it seemed more pressure to like certain things, and I’ve been trying to articulate it.

I grew up with “Must See TV” and every year had some blockbuster in the theater, but that was different.  Dallas was big, but people seemed to accept it might not be your cup of tea – and I was ten, so I didn’t care.  I loved Star Wars, but it was a bolt-of-lightning thing, and no one expected everyone to like it.  There were Big Things, but I don’t recall the sheer pressure to like them.

The ever-expanding world of cable television, foreign films, anime, and the internet brought us even more options.  In the 1990’s the idea of something being Mandatory Fun (apologies to Weird Al) was alien to me – there was something for everyone and more of it all the time.  Why have something feel mandatory?

Then came Harry Potter.  I am loathe to discuss it due to the author’s horrid transphobia, but as this is a historical rant and thus I strive for accuracy.

Harry Potter was something everyone seemed into, and I felt pressure to read it, which irritated the hell out of me.  I think the fact that it was an internet sensation made it omnipresent, people didn’t get you might not be into it because all their friends were.  It was an internet-fueled Blockbuster.

(I did eventually read it, by the way, after people had backed off.)

To this day, the internet and social media have a selective amplification effect.  Something can take off, amplified by social media algorithms and good marketing, and soon you’re sick of hearing about it. Chats, posts, memes, etc. all amplify certain things repeatedly – people doing marketing for free.  At some point, you’re missing having a political argument with your crazy relatives because they’re busy telling you about this new TV show you have to watch.

The wealth of movies, shows, and books we have doesn’t free us either – and I blame social media and marketing for that as well.  People can easily find fellow fans – and assume everyone else has similar interests.  Algorithm-driven ads target you relentlessly.  More choices somehow led to more pressure, and we’ve forgotten not everyone cares about the same things.  Now we just have more not to care about.

Finally, you have the synergy of media universes: Marvel, Star Trek, and Star Wars.  These giant unified properties (and marketing efforts) amplify each other.  Show A leads to movie B, leads to webseries C, all funneling you into a giant media matrix.  Throw in social pressure and social media amplification trying to manipulate you, and you start feeling like you’re a very poor take of They Live, only you’re not as cool as Rowdy Roddy Piper.

We’re living inside a giant marketing machine of technology and social habits.

I’m not proposing a way out, I’m here to analyze and complain.  Perhaps I’ll present some brilliant solutions in the future, but right now, I understand better, saying “no” more, expanding my horizons, and just doing what I like.

Maybe I’ll have more to say.  But now I’m just glad to have it out of my head – and into yours.  So I’d love your thoughts.

Steven Savage

The Granularity of Good Stories

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Why can some stories with broad strokes – tropes really – satisfy us while others disappoint?  This subject came up in a writers’ group when we discussed tropes, and someone noticed simple stories of good versus evil could still satisfy as much as complex ones.  I responded that simple stories can still have depth as surely as a more nuanced work, because both had granularity.

However I wasn’t sure why I was saying that.  I could visualize what I meant, so to put it into words, I wrote this.

When we think granularity, we think of the level of detail in a report, a game’s graphics, or just a description’s detail.  Some things are “big and chunky” (8-bit game graphics), and others are “fine-grained” (research data catching differences among subjects).  Good stories, worldbuilding, and characters also have granularity – but the kind varies.

Look at what is often considered a “good” book or movie.  There’s depth to the characters and setting.  There’s subtle detail about motivations, political history presented subtly that still gives you a century’s events and Checkov’s guns that were more of an armory.  There are levels of fine detail there, like a painting of many colors and delicate brush strokes.

In short, “good” works are often ones with granularity, those details and extras that make it real in our minds.

But what of those simpler works we enjoy, one that may be very simple, trope-filled, or both?  Sure some are real simple, but aren’t many books and movies “good” without all the fine detail of other works?  In fact, I’d say yes – because a “good” work that’s simple or trope-filled can have granularity of a different kind.

The “good” broad, trope-filled book or show has granularity as well, just not at the level of more complex works.  Think of the difference between 8-bit graphics and modern cinematic videogames.  The first presents a world realized in big, colored, obvious dots.  The second is a subtle palette of colors and detail.  Both can delight, but they deliver a different experience.

The “good” book of broad strokes?  That’s the 8-bit game.  There are differences, there are details; they’re just big, obvious, and not always subtle.  But there is some level of granularity and detail, it’s just not the same or the same amount as other works.  It’s “chunky.”

A standard “charming rogue” character can be boring; we’ve seen that all before.  Let’s give them one trope of a soft spot – they never abandon their friends.  Next, throw in a flaw like overconfidence, another trope.  But that’s enough to tell an interesting tale about a person who’s dashing but not always responsible, never abandons people but overestimates their ability to do so.  Three tropes together give you enough depth to enjoy and feel something.

You need enough granularity to bring the characters and story to life.  Be it a “good” book of the incredible detail or a “good” show that is filled with tropes with enough big chunks of detail to give it meaning, you can enjoy yourself and the experience.

And you, my dear writer, just need to find what granularity does what you and your audience want.

Steven Savage