I’m catching up with Battlestar Galactica and Heroes from the last few weeks, and reading some weblog and forum comments on them. I’m struck by how disconnected I feel from what it is that seems to most concern the posting fans. Specifically, I find that I genuinely just don’t care how well some things hold up under an allegedly dispassionate logical analysis. I’m really interested in qualities of experience: fascinating places, intense emotions, struggles and epiphanies, the tangible world and the internal growth and changes of interesting characters thrust into the midst of it.
This explains why I have such a tumultuous relationship with Whedon’s creations:
From Angel, it’s all about the emotions, stupid. Joss just hammered into all of us that ultimately, if you had to choose between logic and emotion, then go with emotion. You want to build as logical a show as possible, but if there’s no emotion, people won’t care. That was a profound influence on me, and I’ve forced that on people I’ve been involved with since then.
from an interview with Jeff Bell [LA Times]
NO, KILLING THE LOGIC MERELY DRIVES SOME OF US SPORKRIFFIC AND WE THROW YOUR SHOW ACROSS THE ROOM AND STOMP ON IT WITH SPIKES OF PREDICATE LOGIC AND WE STOP CARING ANYWAY.
I’ve been noodling at this topic during my spare time today. For those of you who aren’t big fans of SF/fantasy, us fans have a habit of tearing apart the logic of shows and books and the like. Inside most every fan is the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, ready to point out minutiae and grumble about “obvious” plot holes.
TV shows are especially fertile ground for this sort of thing. As John Rogers says in explaining the term “fridge logic,”
TV is a very tight little medium time-wise, with an enormous amount of hand-waving to begin with. Often a logic problem that seems to smack you in the face because you’ve had the time to read the script, reread it, give notes, break it down, etc. is going to fly by your average — and hopefully emotionally engaged — viewer.
When a show engages me, I glide right past plot holes. I’m actively participating in keeping my belief suspended. As I stop being engaged, though, I become more and more annoyed by inconsistencies. Eventually I reach the point of kicking holes in the story’s walls out of frustration and grumbling about its physics.
Trouble arises when you get a bunch of fans like me together. We all have different set-points where we are no longer engaged. We have different buttons to be pushed or left alone. There is no consensus; there is only disharmony. And in such an atmosphere, negative comments tend to amplify each other until all you hear is a standing wave of disapproval.
And look! The Internet has a large population of SF/F fans, removes geographic barriers to discussion, and tends to archive discussions for posterity. The result is an environment that fosters the worst of our group’s tendencies.
Critical analysis can be fun. I’ve spent a lot of time teasing apart the threads of shows like Heroes with friends. “What do you think that meant?” “Who’s Claire’s dad taking orders from?” “I wonder what the extent of Peter’s powers are?” It can be instructive. It can even be entertaining in and of itself. In watching Jericho, I’ve enjoyed the ludicrousness of it all. But there’s a point where you cross over into bullying by way of snobbery. You actively look for reasons to be disappointed in a story, and can’t believe anyone actually enjoys that dreck. You elevate matters of opinion to statements of fact and use them as cudgels with which to smite the unbelievers.
There’s not a bright line dividing good from bad here. I enjoy Mystery Science Theater 3000, which has a nougaty center of mocking bad movies. I read recaps at Television Without Pity, most of which point out numerous plot holes. Negative criticism is not a priori bad criticism. But at some point it passes a nebulous threshold and the only solution is for all involved in the discussion to step back, take deep breaths, and move on to something else.
It took me a while to come up with my own coping mechanism for dealing with the dark side of SF/F Fandom. For works that I like, I’ll gladly obsess over tiny details with others and further my enjoyment through what amounts to collaborative study. For most any story or show I’ll discuss what I thought worked and what didn’t. But if Fans are carving up something I like and are throwing the leftover bits at people like me while hooting their derision, I will smile politely and walk away. You can shove your anger towards me all you want. I will not take it from your hand.