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How Lost revolutionized storytelling

Before telegraphed flashsideways and magical caves, there was a time when Lost told its complex and often surprising story through other means. The mythological show brought to television seldom used attributes to entertain and mystify its audience.
Here’s how the groundbreaking series revolutionized television storytelling.

The first thing to notice about Lost is undoubtedly its unusual use of flashbacks.
At the time (and dare I say still to this day), it was a groundbreaking way to tell a story.
No, I’m not talking about the flashback itself, rather its use in network primetime.
Could viewers keep up with two simultaneous narratives involving the same characters at different times of their lives?
Since its first inception, flashbacks have not only become the staple of the show, but also populated the television landscape.

So much actually, that fans quickly grew tired of what appeared to only be a gimmick.
I guess now we can peak behind the curtain and reveal that, yes, it was at first an opportunity for the writers to stall.
Don’t take my word for it, here’s what Damon Lindelof had to say on the subject:

We knew early on that the flashbacks were going to have to be a prominent aspect of the series but we didn’t use flashbacks in the pilot other than to tell the story of the crash. We knew as we were shooting the pilot though that the only way to do the series would be to use the art of the stall. In any given season of 24 there’s not that much happening, but they give the illusion of constant suspense. On Lost if every episode were about discovering the mysteries of the island than we would be sunk, because there’s an inevitability to that where if the characters decided ‘we’re going to explore this island and figure out what this place is’ whereas if it’s ‘we’re going to figure out how to live with each other and figure out what this island is’ and we’re going to learn about the characters before the crash so that they’re emotionally compelling, that was the only way we saw to do the show.

The bottom line of it all is that, beyond its apparent uselessness, flashbacks on Lost (save for, let’s say, Fire+Water and Stranger in a Strange Land) were compelling both narratively and emotionally. You can’t say that about Damages’ flashforwards (more on that in a minute).
One of my personal favorites is the final flashback of Walkabout where it is revealed Locke was in a wheelchair.
The tour de force of Lost was to intertwine two narratives and therein create a seamless emotional journey that could resonate both in the past (off-Island), and in the present (on-Island). Those “flashes” were actually useful to the show.
As revealed by Lindelof, this back-and-forth between present and past was partly based on the storytelling method of the Watchmen graphic novel as well as Slaughterhouse-Five.

And since we’re on the subject, if you’re going to talk about one, then you’ll need to talk about the other.
I am of course referring to flashforwards (or prolepses).
Remember the time when you had never heard the term “flashforward”?
Me neither.
And yet, before the twist ending occurred during the Season Three finale (Through the Looking Glass), only a few people knew that the technique existed, let alone its usage.
You could say the series finale of Six Feet Under, The O.C., or even Star Trek: The Next Generation used flashforwards to offer viewers glimpses into the future of the show’s characters, but those were just that: glimpses. Like with flashbacks, Lost juxtaposed its timelines in such a unique way that you couldn’t look at prolepses as ‘just that’.

Flashforwards in Lost gave weight to something that was rarely used, or at least not for their sake, but just to give hints of the future. It was the ABC show that truly revealed the potential of such a storytelling technique. The series had showed again that audiences could follow simultaneously two very different timelines. Not since La Jetée have we had such a complex array of timelines, combining both analepses and prolepses. One could argue the writers are trying to catch the lightning in the bottle once more with this season’s flashsideways technique. But all they’re actually creating is a fake sense of nostalgia.

This true revolution gave way to a few series that probably would not have been green-lit had it not been for Lost.
Damages certainly succeeded in using flashforwards with its first season, but could have gone without it with its following seasons. They were as well only used as glimpses into the season finale, not true parallel storytelling. In addition, we can talk a bit about the now-canned FlashForward (based on the 1999 book of the same name) that proved a show could not sustain on mythology alone.

Ultimately, Carlton Cuse describes his show as “a giant mosaic“:

At various points in the journey you’re going to be standing in various spots and you can define them as past, present, or future. We like fractured storytelling, and the way we’re going you’ll be looking at various aspects of our characters’ lives in the story we are telling. We want to explore that from various perspectives.

Another revolution in the network landscape is the scope of the show.
And I’m not just talking about the size of the Four-Toed Statue.
From its cast and sets, to the score and cinematic visuals, Lost was pretty much unprecedented as a network drama. The show is de facto massively expensive (large crew and Hawaii shoot), but it also premiered during a time where networks were slowly moving away from scripted dramas into the realm of cheaply-produced reality shows. Whatever you might say about the mythology of the show, you can’t deny that the series had a lot of layers.

Comparing the show to video-game storytelling, Carlton Cuse went on to say:

We also felt that since Lost was violating a lot of rules of traditional television storytelling, including having a large and sprawling cast and having very complex storytelling, we felt that videogames were one model that showed that if audiences get invested, they love complexity. In fact, the more complexity the better, and the challenge of that complexity was an asset as opposed to a liability. Those are the games that people actually respect, you know?

As for the characters, even though an ensemble cast is far from being new, Lost distinguished itself from others thanks to the innovative “centric” aspect.
And regarding the mythology, well it seems to span literally thousands of years, though we’ll have a lot of things to say about that in the coming days.

Television storytelling was also revolutionized in another surprising way when, after a few months of back-and-forth talk between ABC and the Lost execs, an end-date for the series was announced on May 7th, 2007. Clearly, this move was done as a gesture towards the fan that both answers and the end were in sight. It was also an unprecedented move in network history that is unlikely to happen again, though it shaped in many ways other mythological series. Finally, the announcement led to three shorter seasons (around 15 episodes each), and, as we can see from the current renewals, such “cable seasons” are now becoming more and more in vogue.

Last but far from being least, we can now talk about the final two fundamental changes Lost brought to television storytelling: Crossmedia & Transmedia.
Simply put, crossmedia is distribution of one “story world” across multiple platforms, and transmedia is the usage of said platforms to tell the story.

Think of it this way: the ‘Lost world’ has many stories told through various mediums, the main one being the mothership (the television show on ABC). The rest of the (less important) side-stories can be told through, for instance, a series of books. This is crossmedia.
The show explored Information technologies as a way to distribute its stories. Case in point in December 2007 when Lost: Missing Pieces was launched on the Internet and mobile phones. The thirteen short videos (about three minutes each) were actually mini-flashbacks comprised of mostly deleted scenes. It wasn’t the first foray into mini-episodes (see 24 and Battlestar Galactica), but it certainly was the most effective of its time.

You also have transmedia, which is basically a more engulfing version of crossmedia. The most obvious example is what is called “Alternate Reality Game” (ARG), or, as Wikipedia describes it, “an interactive narrative that uses the real world as a platform, often involving multiple media and game elements, to tell a story that may be affected by participants’ ideas or actions.”
One of the best ARG was The Lost Experience in 2007. I won’t go here into the dirty deets of what made TLE so great (Ivan Askwith deconstructed the ARG pretty thoroughly in his paper), though I have to congratulate one of the masterminds behind it, Javier Grillo-Marxuach.
Though their later attempts were much less successful (Find 815, the Dharma Initiative Recruiting Project), what you had with TLE and other Lost crossmedia was a unified viewing experience that allowed the audience to decide on which level it wants to be involved with the series.
You could be an über-fan and follow The Lost Experience, or just a casual viewer and simply watch the series on TV.

At the end of the day, Lost may be most remembered for complex mysteries or lack of answers, but its most overlooked aspect will certainly be the one that will have the greatest impact on television: groundbreaking and timeless storytelling.

What’s it gonna take to bring your bubble show back?

It’s that time of the season again. Many shows are on the verge of being cancelled by the big Five networks, and several cable channels, and hopes are dimming for a few of them. So, let me get this out of the way: yes, ratings are a key factor, along with DVR showings, etc. It depends also on the level of the development season, and the will of the networks to balance scripted and unscripted shows, or to launch new scripted blocks. That’s what’s expected for ABC and NBC, at the very least, since they renewed the totality of their 2-hour comedy blocks, save for ABC’s “Hank”, but still ordered a dozen comedy pilots for next season.

All of that is obvious, and has been repeated in many stories all over the specialized sites. But lately, due to the financial crisis, both studios and networks have been creative in trying to find ways to bring shows back. So, stop trying to aggregate for “Save Show” campaigns or sending gifts to executives, and…


(That one takes us back, doesn’t it?)

International sales?
A very interesting story has emerged from the “New York Times” last week. It came on the heels of Sony negotiating with premium channel DirecTV to bring a fourth season of “Damages” to air. Sure, “Damages” garners critical acclaim and Emmys for Glenn Close, but this season the ratings have been disappointing to the FX brass.

This quote in particular is interesting:

The formula for making the cable drama business pay is changing, but, as Zack Van Amburg, president of programming and production for Sony Pictures Television, said, so is the world.
“International is critical for these shows,” he said. “Five years ago broadcast shows were more valuable. They were thought of as better-produced and of higher quality. Now cable shows have gone out and performed well.”
Sony’s “Damages” attracts about 1.4 million viewers an episode, barely survival ratings on FX (though Mr. Landgraf jokingly said it does very well “among viewers with I.Q.’s over 140”). But Sony has sold the show to international outlets for a total of about $2 million an episode.

So, the international sales, especially for a drama coming with a “prestige” stamp like “Damages”, have been instrumental in getting the talks going to finance more seasons. (However, it looks like that wasn’t enough, since Sony doesn’t want a substantial license fee reduction, so it might be dead after the Season 3 finale, according to Variety.)
Shows drawing an international audience can be saved from the bubble, like “Alias” in its time, or “Heroes” now. That’s the prime reason a final season, though short, can be ordered by NBC, since otherwise the show has nothing going for it.

Other networks?
Granted, that’s a rare case of networks jumping in, and usually it doesn’t take place until after the bubble show has been cancelled in the upfronts. (There are exceptions of course, “Friday Night Lights” on DirecTV being one.) But, lately, it has not been unusual: “Medium” jumped from NBC (poor marketing, consistently great ratings) to CBS (Friday Night Slot of Death, but great promotion); “Scrubs” ended its run on ABC after 7 seasons, including one aborted, on NBC. But “SAVE OUR SHOW” aficionados, don’t jump to conclusions that quick or try to play Armchair Executive too soon. That will happen if the parties willing to order more seasons have a personal stake in the show: “Medium” is produced by CBS Paramount TV (keyword: CBS. Sister arm of production), so Les Moonves had interest in promoting a new season. Plus, Glenn Gordon Caron already produced the late, great “Now and Again” for CBS back in 2000. Same case with “Scrubs”: not only is it produced by ABC Studios, but Steve McPherson himself developed the show, back when he was the head of Touchstone Television.

DVD sales?
This one is less realistic. Sales of a cancelled show on DVD, if significant, might help the network reconsider more seasons. Sadly, this has only happened for two animated shows: “Futurama” and “Family Guy”, both produced by 20th Century Fox. As far as I’m aware, selling 2 million copies of, say, “The Forgotten” season 1 won’t make Steve McPherson reconsider bringing Christian Slater back on the air. (Especially since Slater has already jumped ship on another pilot. And no, no one really wants to see new episodes of “The Forgotten”.)

A producer mogul with beaucoup clout?
The times where you could get a TV show made based on the sake of your name are now long gone. On network TV, that is. After all, David Milch got “John From Cincinnatti” ordered without HBO executives blinking once. But a few of those moguls subsist: that’s how John Wells, Executive Producer Extraordinaire, responsible for “China Beach” and especially “ER”, took the filmed episodes of season 2 of “Southland” to TNT. The first season, aired right after the end of “ER”, in the slot of Thursdays at 10, was already a sign of goodwill from NBC execs, who gave the keys to a late-season run to an eager Wells, that wanted to keep the real estate and momentum. But fall came, Leno at 10 too, so “Southland” was supposed to air on Fridays (gasp) at 9 pm (ugh). The rest is history: NBC chickened out, Wells got pissed and terminated his contract. But the 6 unaired episodes of “Southland”, broadcast after reruns of season 1, didn’t attract many eyeballs. So, specialists wonder if TNT made the right move by believing in the show. And among the bubble shows, save for “Cold Case” and “The Forgotten” produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, none of them are produced by a bigtime producer.

Many shows won’t get a second chance to come back next month. Some won’t even see the light of day on DVD, such as aforementioned “Cold Case”, held up ever since its premiere for music license rights. So, at the end of the day, it depends on the will of the studio and the network to find avenues to bring the show back and recoup the money well beyond the ad revenue.

The iPad: Where’s the objectivity?

I came across an article by New York Times’ David Pogue about the polarizing aspect of the iPad.
He writes:

The haters tend to be techies; the fans tend to be regular people.
Therefore, no single write-up can serve both readerships adequately. There’s but one solution: Write separate reviews for these two audiences.
Read the first one if you’re a techie. (How do you know? Take this simple test. Do you use BitTorrent? Do you run Linux? Do you have more e-mail addresses than pants? You’re a techie.)
Read the second review if you’re anyone else.

Besides the fact that this article is stuck in a 1999 cliché of what a “techie” is, my problem with this is Pogue gives a false sense of objectivity (showing both sides of the coin).
The thing is, not only is the so-called “anti” review comprised of just a basic spec list, but the whole article is overwhelmingly biased towards the iPad.
The “pro” review (three times the size of its counterpart), praises the same aspects of the tablet that, well, everyone else seems to praise (regardless of if they’re actually good/relevant/comparable, or not).

As I was reading through the review, it became clear that the author was enamored with the device – and so was the rest of the press corps.
Save for those few “techie” websites, every news outlet raves about the iPad, totally disregarding its many flaws.
Everyone is saying how “revolutionary” is is. And both Newsweek and Time have made iPad their covers.

The problem is that they’re buying their own hype.

Apple declares the product “magical”, and then on the other end the press emphasizes it to the point where you don’t know if some massive brainwash has occurred.

It’s as if people are more than happy to jump on the Apple bandwagon instead of taking a step back, and provide reasonable critical thinking.

The press is duping the public in thinking that a severely limited $500 tablet is better than a versatile $300 computer.
We all know people love to touch their stuff, but come on.
You can’t throw away all your other devices (laptop, home-computer, phone), and just use the iPad (that kinda looks like a clunky iPhoto Frame).

Apple knows their niche and exploited it to the max.

Wall Street Journal‘s Walter Mossberg says:

After spending hours and hours with it, I believe this beautiful new touch-screen device from Apple has the potential to change portable computing profoundly, and to challenge the primacy of the laptop.

If I understand this right, a tablet with a 4:3 screen and the same processor as my phone will replace my computer that has ten times the specs and power.
I’m sorry but intuitiveness is not the only thing that should make or break a technological device. Especially one that is positioning itself as a laptop-killer.

Going back to the New York Times article:

The iPad’s killer app, though, is killer apps. Apple says that 150,000 existing iPhone apps run on the iPad.

How are phone apps working on a fake laptop supposed to be a “killer app”?
For that matter, how is a laptop having apps anything new?
Ever heard of something called “software”? You know that your netbook can run programs too, right?
And they’re not limited by the iTunes store.
I can understand why having exclusive apps for the iPhone that no other phone can do might be interesting, but if your laptop-killer can’t even run laptop-level apps (Photoshop?) , you’ve got a problem.

And no, it can’t handle Adobe Flash.
What’s the reasoning? Steve Jobs says it’s “buggy.”
Nice personal vendetta.
Again, I can understand why the iPod Touch might not be able to handle Flash, especially seeing that web-surfing is not its primary component.
On the other hand, the iPad is marketed as a device made for web-surfing. And yet it can’t fully access it.
Steve Jobs called the iPad “the best web experience you’ve ever had,” though why shell out $500+ to only access a tenth of web content?

There’s also no multitasking, or more specifically app concurrency.
This is not hyped to be a one-app device, and yet you cannot run two apps at the same time (despite the size and speed).

Regarding its e-book capabilities, and the fact that the iPad is not an e-Reader, we’ve already covered that part in full detail.
Though I do get annoyed when the iPad’s e-reading function is praised for details like:

When you turn a page, the animated page edge actually follows your finger’s position and speed as it curls, just like a paper page.

I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that an animation of a page turning was more important than the actual book page.
When you read a book, do you spend much time looking at how cool the page turning is, or more time reading the actual thing?

This ode to the iPad has even reached television, with Modern Family dedicating this week an episode to the device.
I don’t know what is scarier: the fact that an entire storyline was crafted around the iPad, or that Apple didn’t have to pay for it.

Time Magazine’s review does have an interesting point towards its very end:

The iPad shifts the emphasis from creating content to merely absorbing and manipulating it. It mutes you, turns you back into a passive consumer of other people’s masterpieces. In that sense, it’s a step backward.

The iPad is a media consumption device, but it’s too damn limited.

Which brings me to Final Draft.
You’ve probably heard by now that the company is developing an app for the iPad.
The Final Draft app will primarily be designed to make small edits here and there, but I get the feeling that, even with a great screenwriting app, the iPad isn’t comfy enough for script edits.
Typing pages of text on a virtual keyboard? You must be joking. You can’t even write on your lap.
Except for short e-mails or messages, not much will be able to be done it feels like.
I’m still waiting to see how this one plays out though.

I think Engadget‘s Ross Miller nailed it when he described the iPad as:

A jack of some trades, a master of none.

The press felt bummed out they didn’t call the iPod or the iPhone as the game-changer they were, so this time around they’re all too keen to declare the iPad as the greatest gadget that ever was.
I’m not saying the iPad will bomb (it probably won’t), I’m just expecting a little more neutrality from a medium that is supposed to be unbiased and shouldn’t get “all tingly inside” when reporting about a flawed device.

And as for why ABC and CBS putting their TV shows on the iPad for free is a dangerous thing, that’s a story for another time.