Since I’ve been posting so much about television lately, I want to say a word of appreciation for the New Yorker‘s new (well, fairly new) TV critic, Emily Nussbaum. (She’s already written a whole lot of copy, but I think it’s OK to call her “new” until the magazine gets around to including her in its online list of contributors.) I enjoyed the “On Television” columns by Nancy Franklin, but I got the distinct impression that no one at the New Yorker, including and perhaps especially Franklin, actually thought they mattered much. Franklin wrote not as a person who cared deeply about the medium and spent a lot of time thinking critically and intelligently about it, but rather as an intelligent person who could take or leave TV and thought about it only when a deadline loomed. Her approach to the beat was casual to a fault. Nussbaum, on the other hand, takes television seriously as an art form, and takes her job seriously enough that she watches pretty much everything. What is more, she seems to really enjoy a lot of what she watches (sometimes to an alarming degree), which is a good quality in a critic. I don’t watch that much television, but Nussbaum’s enthusiasm is almost enough to make me think I should, in the same way that Sasha Frere-Jones can make me briefly consider listening to more Rihanna. Also, Nussbaum’s writing is crisp and funny and insightful (though I often think her pieces are a little longer than they need to be). Since she started at the New Yorker I am more excited about the back of the magazine than I have been in a long while.
The July 30 issue has an extra-long article by Nussbaum, “Tune In Next Week,” a cultural history of the cliffhanger. Much thought and research went into this piece, which covers everything from Scheherazade to Dickens to Dallas and beyond. It’s full of interesting historical tidbits and smart critical commentary about the evolution of serialized storytelling and what separates (or only seems to separate) “trash” from art.
A cliffhanger, Nussbaum says, “makes visible the storyteller’s connection to his audience…. [Cliffhangers] reveal that a story is artificial, then dare you to keep believing.” This is fascinating to reflect on. But by the end of the essay I felt the notion of “cliffhanger” had been stretched well beyond its useful meaning. Nussbaum gives a quick and very interesting history of how television went from shows like “I Love Lucy,” whose episodes were self-contained stories “designed to run in any order,” to “long-arc” series that sustain a story over many episodes and require more committed viewing. But is telling an ongoing story, one that ends and then picks up again in another installment, enough to qualify as employing “cliffhangers”? In her third paragraph, Nussbaum offers two definitions of the term:
Narrowly defined, a cliffhanger is a climax cracked in half: the bomb ticks, the screen goes black…. Cliffhangers are the point when the audience decides to keep buying.
That narrow definition is a very good one. But if you broaden it too much, it seems to me, you end up saying that any serialized story is a succession of cliffhangers, and that waters down the definition of “cliffhanger” too much for it to be useful. If a show is telling a story, in a serial fashion, well enough that I am invested in the characters, I will want to “tune in next week” to know what happens next generally. That is just the nature of being an audience to a narrative that isn’t over yet. But a “cliffhanger” is something more specific — a break, however long, that leaves a particular question unanswered. So the “Who Shot J.R.?” season-ender on Dallas, which Nussbaum discusses in detail, is a cliffhanger for sure. But when Jim kissed Pam at the end of season 2 of The Office — to take another of her examples — was that a cliffhanger? A “climax cracked in half?” Or was it just…a climax? A cliffhanger, I think, would have stopped the action just before Jim declared his love. (“Pam, I have something I need to say…” black screen; “to be continued.”) As a devoted fan of The Office I spent the summer before season 3 in suspense, eager to find out where the characters and their story would go when the show started up again. But I don’t think that suspense was specific enough for the ending to qualify as a cliffhanger.
This leads me to a quibble, and yes, it relates to Breaking Bad. Don’t read on if you haven’t gotten to the end of season 3 of that show (and you think you someday will). Go read Nussbaum’s article instead. Now, Breaking Bad viewers, I want to know what you think: Read the rest of this entry »