There's Too Damn Much TV
What comes after the second Golden Age of Television? And are we in it?
I’m stuck on Season 2 of The Bear, a season of television that first dropped nearly six months ago. Stuck not because I can’t find my way out and certainly not stuck from lack of desire to complete. I’m stuck because every attempt to finish The Bear somehow has me starting on a parallel journey with another show I’m told I need to watch. When the 2024 Golden Globe nominations were announced yesterday morning, I was struck by just how much television wasn’t represented despite how much was. I was struck again by how many performances I’d never seen, or even heard of, despite being something of a television devotee.
When I finished watching Netflix’s Beef weeks after all ten episodes had dropped, I felt a bizarre sense of pride in being able to actually finish something I’d started watching. It felt akin to the first player being eliminated on Squid Game: The Challenge and watching the remaining contestants’ faces light up for a split second then return to fear in realizing they had increased their odds of winning by only .002%. Or, for a more me reference, it’s like Season 4 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Faith tells Buffy’s mom, “It's like those animals in the tar pits. It's like you just keep sinking a little deeper everyday and no one even sees.” That’s how I feel about my television consumption. I try and try to check off more boxes, to be able to pipe up at a social occasion when the talk inevitably turns to “what’s everyone watching?” or “have you seen X?” but increasingly, I just can’t keep up. I’m sinking.
I’m currently watching, in some form, besides the aforementioned The Bear and Squid Game: The Challenge (neither of which I’ve finished): The Curse, Succession, Lessons in Chemistry, Poker Face, The Last Of Us, The Gilded Age, Frasier, Survivor and every Real Housewives franchise currently airing. I just finished Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God last night. Real proud of myself for banging that out in a weekend —- all three episodes! I’m sure there’s more, but hard to know for certain with the lack of comprehensive lists of all television shows currently airing. I mean, what even constitutes a television show anymore? I watched May December on my television, but it’s a movie. There’s so much content that entire networks have sprung up that I’ve never even heard of, let alone the programming they seek to get viewers’ eyeballs on.
And let’s not forget all the great TV that we had earlier this year, from And Just Like That… and Jury Duty to Somebody Somewhere and The Traitors to MILF Manor and The Super Models. Special shout out to Pamela, A Love Story and Being Mary Tyler Moore, two stellar made-for-television movies. And lest we forget the bad TV we weren’t able to pull ourselves away from, namely The Idol.
I have on the docket Fellow Travelers, Fargo, The Fall of the House of Usher, A Murder at the End of the World, Dead Ringers, Foundation, The Morning Show, Severance, All the Light We Cannot See, Reservation Dogs, Scavengers Reign, Swarm and The Diplomat. Surely I’m forgetting something — likely many things.
Remember Tiny Beautiful Things? Bupkis? Glamorous? Shrinking? I should add those to the list, too, no?
There’s no hope or solution to what, for many, isn’t even a problem. After all, more television shows means more employment opportunities for actors, writers, crews, publicists, critics, etc. It also means more kinds of shows of varying genres and for varying demographics. This is all well and good; even great. But the hurdle that often pops up with excess is the ability to discover. If I already love something, even if there’s a promise that I might like this other thing, too, or this other thing more, there’s the simple question as to why deviate from the thing I know and love? And let’s say I do the ideal from the purveyor standpoint and watch both, and even love both; is that a sustainable model for the future? More, more, more? Always, always, always?
I’ve always been a fan of monoculture. Taylor and Beyoncé are the closest we have to that these days, and I’m grateful for it. And though examples remain, I miss the ubiquity of monoculture; the idea that everyone was talking about ten things as opposed to everyone talking about ten of 100 things, but with which things the ten are always being up for debate. It’s not that I’m clamoring for the days of over a hundred million viewers tuning in for the finale of M*A*S*H. But as I made the rounds at a holiday party largely populated by gay men debating pop culture over the weekend and the topic of “what are you watching?” reared its head more than once, it occurred to me how little overlap there was.
At lunch with my friend Matthew on Friday, I tried to sell him on Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God while he did the same for A Murder at the End of the World. It was as though we were representatives for differing districts in The Hunger Games attempting to argue our case (I don’t think that’s a proper metaphor but I never finished watching The Hunger Games, original or prequel — but it’s on the list!). Everything Matthew was saying compelled me to watch, but the queue of unfinished offerings bore its weight upon me when I turned the television back on.
I don’t have a solution, let alone a firm grasp on the problem. It’s not so much that I want less television as I want more time in the day. Since neither are going to become realities, I’ll have to settle on endlessly feeling out of some, if not many, loops. Will I get around to watching all? Certainly. But by the time I wrap The Bear Season 2, a third season will have likely aired, outpacing my ability to reach a finish line. Again, not their fault. I like The Bear. More Bear good. But it’s an exasperating and nauseating feeling, constantly chasing and never feeling at all caught up.
And yet.
Who’s excited for Feud: Capote vs. The Swans?
True Detective: Night Country?
Masters of the Air?
Avatar: The Last Airbender?
Agatha: Darkhold Diaries?
Orphan Black: Echoes?
The Penguin?