The Hype Aversion Issue

I was in the middle of writing a rant about science-fiction. See, I've been struggling to get into a lot of hard (or relatively hard in the case of anything Star Wars related) sci-fi shows such as Battlestar Galactica, The Expanse, and worst of all, Andor, so I wanted to try and parse through why they weren't doing anything for me. My conclusion was these shows because they seemed to prioritize realism or being gritty over telling good stories, but pretty far into the rant, I started to wonder... what even was my evidence here? That Battlestar Galactica was a direct response to the Star Trek Voyager's Year Of Hell, a divisive storyline that even I couldn't defend? That Andor was made by a guy who doesn't usually write sci-fi? That's just not grounds for an argument and I knew it.

Even if they weren't for me, it's not like all hard sci-fi specifically exists to stick it to Star Trek. And even if it did (looking at you BSG), it's not like the people working on them weren't also trying to make the best products they could. The Expanse is based on a book based on a TTRPG, Andor was just Gilroy giving his own unique take on a fairly malleable universe, and even BSG was less of a "screw Star Trek" project and more of a "let's do what Star Trek couldn't" project. Even with my personal bias towards formalist art, I definitely can't say that these shows would be better if they were more colorful and light-hearted. So why was I getting so mad? Why was I willing to write a whole rant on stuff that wasn't even true? But then I realized something. My rant wasn't based on those shows, it was based on what I've heard about those shows...

Bring Back Episodic TV!

The fastest way to get me to completely lose interest in a TV show is when the showrunners call it a "10-hour movie". It gives off the impression that said showrunners don't know how to make a TV show, or that they're embarrassed to be working on one. I've kept it no secret that I'm dissatisfied with the direction television has been heading in over the years, and I finally wanted to talk about why.

The television medium is, in its nature, episodic. The brilliance of the format is that, even if the episodes come together to form a larger narrative, people can watch anything from one episode to an entire season back-to-back and still get some sort of satisfying experience. Whether it's in a strictly episodic procedural like Law And Order or a more continuity-driven epic like Breaking Bad, each episode needs to stand on its own with some sort of narrative or thematic throughline. Characters have to have a goal that is resolved by the end of the episode (whether or not they succeed in said goal may vary), and the episode itself should end in some sort of climactic moment that was built up to from the very start. There's this misconception that serialized TV is always inherently better, and while I seriously disagree (literally just watch The X-Files, the standalones are vastly superior), even if you prefer serialized television, there's no excuse for episodes to not tell their own entertaining stories. Viewers should be fulfilled after watching any episode of a TV show, and writers can be able to do this even if their show is fully episodic, fully serialized, or somewhere in between.

For example, The Sopranos is often regarded as one of, if not the first "prestige TV" show. People frequently compare it to a movie, and all of its episodes have a strong sense of continuity connecting them. However, there's not a single Sopranos episode that can't also stand on its own. There were experimental yet contained episodes like Pine Barrens and University, but even the grander and more plot-heavy episodes like Whoever Did This and Long Term Parking mostly focus on a single story, such as the burning point of a series-long rivalry in the former and a character's fight to survive in the latter. On the other hand, you get shows like the MCU shows where most of the episodes tend to blur together and watching weekly ends up leaving you unsatisfied. Kenobi was especially bad, the whole show felt like an overlong amorphous blob of a story since most of its episodes couldn't stand on its own (aside from the second one) and instead ended up seeping into the episodes that came before and after it. The poor structure also tends to negatively impact these show's final episodes, since they end up just feeling like generic third acts since the story is built more like a movie than a TV show.

Speaking of Star Wars, the show that really spurred this rant for me was Andor, an otherwise fantastic show with a structure so bad that I can't bring myself to enjoy it as much as I want to. The showrunner Tony Gilroy is a great screenwriter, he's good at what he does, but he's exclusively written for movies and it shows. Gilroy's plan to transfer his experience to Andor was to split the show into three-episode-long arcs, roughly the length of a standard movie. This isn't the only show to split itself into story arcs like this, hell it's not even the only Star Wars show to do so either, but having Andor be four 3-hour-long movies rather than a single 12-hour-long movie doesn't change the fact that its episodes still don't feel like individualized narratives. Of course, this is further exacerbated by the fact that Disney insists on airing each episode one at a time, making for a very unsatisfying weekly viewing experience.

It's especially frustrating because it's gotten to the point where I'm praising shows for being episodic. I shouldn't have to praise TV shows for being TV shows, but that's how bad things have gotten. I could highlight so many older shows as examples of how to tell a serialized story with individualized episodes. There's The X-Files and how it separates the Monster Of The Week and Myth Arc episodes. There's shows like Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Farscape which slowly build up their plot over the course of a season. There's shows like Avatar The Last Airbender and Person Of Interest, which get progressively more serialized in every successive season, once you get to know the show's world and characters. And there's shows like Babylon 5 and Deep Space Nine, which are mostly episodic but have plot-heavy episodes and short arcs every once in a while that whack the story in a new direction. But I think I want to highlight the two most recent shows I've watched since they came out somewhat recently.

Lycoris Recoil is an anime that aired in 2022, and I adored its structure. Anime tends to also have an issue with episodes blending together, especially if they're based off a serialized manga, but Lycoris Recoil being entirely original meant the series was made for the TV format, and every episode could stand on its own. Storylines ranged from "Chisato and Takina go shopping" to "Chisato and Takina stop an assassin", and yet every episode also slowly built up a more serialized story in the background. One of my personal favorite examples was an episode that started off innocent, with a storyline about the cast trying to save their cafe, only to end on one of the cruelest cliffhangers of the whole show. The episode built up to that cliffhanger organically, and the lighthearted money storyline made sure that the entire episode was memorable and not just the ending. And even the final few episodes all still had their own singular tales, like how the penultimate episode focused around the DA soldiers trying to get out of a tough situation. I would finish an episode of Lycoris Recoil and be satisfied with what I watched, but the serialized story would leave me excited to see what happens next. This is how a TV show should ideally be laid out. 

But then there's The Leftovers, an utter masterclass of blending together serialized and episodic story-telling. Each season had its own overarching plot, but each episode still tells its own story. From Season 2 onward, pretty much half of each season is composed of mostly standalone and experimental character studies, yet they rank as some of the best in the whole show. More than most shows, each episode of The Leftovers doesn't just feel like a "tv episode", it feels like a film in its own right. I could watch any episode of this show, even the ones with cliffhangers, and be left feeling fulfilled. Sometimes, an episode was so intense that I flat-out needed to take a break from bingeing it. It's rare to see a show nowadays that doesn't encourage you binge it like a snack, The Leftovers encourages you to take and process every single episode on its own merits rather than race through the entire season to get your fulfillment. 

Overall, television being episodic isn't a flaw with the medium, it's part of what makes it special. Whether or not a show is serialized or episodic, each individual episode needs to have something to make it stand out. If not, all of the show's episodes are going to blend together, and watching it weekly won't feel like a fulfilling or satisfying experience. You can have a show with a long, interconnected story, that's not the issue. The issue is in showrunners treating television like an entirely different medium. TV shows aren't movies, they're TV shows. Treat them as such.

I'm Done With The MCU

I haven't been reviewing anything Marvel related lately. I skipped out on Moon Knight and Mrs Marvel, and while I did watch (and enjoy) Multiverse Of Madness, I didn't have the energy to actually add it to the combined Phase 4 review. This was a long time coming, and if you read all of my MCU TV show reviews back-to-back, you can probably notice a slow decline in enthusiasm for the franchise. Phase 4 of the MCU has a lot of issues right now, and while I used to be eager to follow every movie they've made, I just can't bring myself to care anymore. I wanted to talk about the reasons why:

Oversaturation: This is probably the most common complaint about the MCU, the infamous "superhero fatigue". Frankly, I wouldn't say I have superhero fatigue, per se. I saw the recent Batman movie and loved it, I loved Peacemaker, I watched the Hellboy movies recently and the second one shot up to my all-time favorites, I'm not tired of superhero movies. I am, however, tired of MCU films, because there has been a lot coming out lately. Prior to the pandemic, we got around 2-3 MCU movies a year and nothing more. In 2021 alone, we got four movies and five TV shows, adding up to a whopping nine pieces of MCU media. And it's not like I could skip any of them, they were all important to the overarching MCU story, and it left me absolutely exhausted by the end of that year. Every time I finished an MCU show, another one would start up. Every time I'd think I was safe, a movie would come out that I had to go out of my way to watch. It was too much for me, and following the MCU as closely as I used to felt more and more like a burden. 

It also seems to have a pretty noticeable impact on Marvel Studios as well. Disney has all the money in the world that they can use for these movies but when they're churning out so much content, even they're going to start to suffer from some production issues. WandaVision got a rushed ending, Falcon And The Winter Soldier had rewrites because an entire plotline was removed, Black Widow and Thor Love And Thunder had noticeably bad CGI at points, the list goes on. I don't want to point fingers at the crew who's working on these movies and shows, of course, it's not their fault that the MCU has to have this much material made in such a short time, it's not their fault Disney can't delay their movies (outside of COVID circumstances as course) to maintain the MCU's tight continuity, and it's not their fault that almost everything they work on is filled to the brim with special effects due to the higher-ups' seeming refusal to do anything practical. At this point, it feels like the MCU is the movie version of fast food, a constant stream of content produced quickly and cheaply, putting quantity over quality. I wouldn't be surprised if one day we hear complaints from screenwriters and VFX artists about being overworked, this way of making movies can not be sustainable. 

Edit: So... umm... literally the day after I wrote this, a whole bunch of the MCU's VFX artists started to speak out about being overworked and underpaid. I hate that this felt inevitable, that you could tell from the movies themselves that the VFX artists were being overworked, but I hope that this increased outspokenness about the matter can lead to some sort of change.

Lack Of Direction: In its first three phases, the MCU felt like it had a sense of direction. In Iron Man, the first movie of the MCU, Nick Fury shows up and announces the Avengers Initiative, and thus all of the following films in that phase slowly build up to The Avengers, bringing that subplot more and more into the forefront with each successive film. Once we get to The Avengers, Thanos shows up, and now we have that threat to deal with up until the end of Phase 3. There's always a single focus that the MCU is building towards, but it also made sure that almost all of its movies are enjoyable on their own, with Civil War and the last two Avengers films being the only ones that you'd really need context for.

In Phase 4, on the other hand, there isn't this kind of focus or direction. We don't have an overarching villain like Thanos or a goal like assembling the Avengers. There is a running theme about the multiverse but we have no idea what the appearance of the multiverse would even be building towards. And not to mention the vast web of other subplots and storylines that movies are also setting up, like Valentina, the new Avengers, Kang, the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, should I go on? The MCU feels aimless right now because it doesn't feel like I'm going anywhere with any of its movies, all of the post-credits scenes used to feel like exciting hooks for the sequel and major plot bombs, but nowadays, they feel more like a vague advertisement for some random MCU film coming out in an indeterminate number of years (or days at this rate).

Safeness: But for me, my biggest issue with the MCU is just how frustratingly safe it has been. Feige, the movie's directors, and the fans tend to claim that every MCU movie is different and toys around in a new genre or with a new tone, but that's not the case at all. There are plenty of MCU movies that flirt with a tone or genre, WandaVision and Multiverse Of Madness flirt with horror, Eternals flirt with character-driven drama, Shang Chi flirts with wuxia, and most painfully Black Widow flirts with an incredibly dark Bourne-esque tone, but these movies never end up committing to it. They all end up reverting back to the homogenized "MCU action film" by the final act, with even Shang Chi ending on a mindless CGI dragon fight. This is the worst when it comes to the season finales of the Disney+ shows, because they should be the culmination of everything the show has led up to, but more often than not, feel like the most generic, safe, and least interesting parts of their respective shows. While WandaVision burned me the most, none of the MCU's finales really blew me away, and seeing the reviews of Moon Knight's finale, I fear that's not going to change any time soon.

I also wanted to bring up how safe the production of these films has felt as well, which somewhat links with my first point about Marvel rushing out movies. I brought up how every third act feels the same, but there's also the fact that (outside of Shang Chi) most of the action in the MCU is done by a second-unit team which makes them all feel similar, or the fact that these movies are almost entirely lacking in color or diverse camerawork (outside of Multiverse Of Madness), or the fact that the abundance of self-aware humor has completely eliminated the sincerity you need to make a superhero movie work. And the frustrating thing is that Marvel Studios tries to act like it has all of these things! Sam Raimi is brought in for one film to give it some visual flair, but Thor Love And Thunder is back to the usual MCU dullness. William Pope came in to bolster the action in Shang Chi, but that extra flair never ended up sticking. Even Eternals goes for a grand, visceral, almost DCEU-esque sense of scale that the other movies would never take cues from. The MCU never commits. It tricks you into thinking it's changed and that it's trying something new, but it never happens. This is what's frustrated me the most. Every time I watched a Disney+ show, I held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to stick the landing and create something better than "just good", but they never do it. 

The final straw for me was when I watched Top Gun Maverick in an IMAX theater, and I forgot that watching a movie could be this exciting. I forgot that the action could genuinely thrill me and have me on the edge of my seat, I forgot that the visuals could wow me through sheer movie magic, and I forgot that I could cheer not because of cameos or nostalgia, but because I care about the characters. I wasn't just casually enjoying myself like I would with an average MCU movie, I was fully engrossed and engaged. Top Gun Maverick is a simple blockbuster action film, not unlike any other MCU movie, but the passion and craft that went into it was so great that I feel it completely ruined the MCU for me. I'm still probably going to watch the next Spider Man and Guardians films because I like Spider Man and I like James Gunn, but otherwise, I've decided that I'm going to stop committing to watching and reviewing MCU media anymore. I've lost my love for the franchise, and I feel I have much better movies and shows that I would like to devote my time to instead.

The MCU was my childhood, The Avengers was my Star Wars, but now, I think it's time I let it go.

What Laid-Back Camp Taught Me

Like many other things, introversion hasn't really gotten the best depiction in television. A lot of the biggest introverted TV characters are abrasive or detached from society to some degree, from the socially awkward Sheldon Cooper, to the immensely cynical Daria and Dr House, to the literal serial killer Dexter Morgan. And the rest mostly just consists of those really shy characters who go through a character arc where they come out of their shell, usually upon meeting an extrovert. In a world where extroversion is rewarded, it definitely feels like being an introvert is painted as a bad thing in a lot of media, and as an introvert myself, I started to agree. But then I saw Laid-Back Camp, and by extension, Shima Rin, a character who was wholly secure in her introversion and spent plenty of episodes completely on her own separated from the rest of the cast... and it confused the hell out of me.

But before talking about the show, let's talk about what being an introvert really means. Many people seem to think that an introvert is someone who is shy, socially awkward, or abrasive, but that's not the case at all. As a matter of fact, extroverts can also have all of those traits I just mentioned. Because introversion and extroversion isn't a matter of personality as I may have initially thought, it's all about how people enjoy spending their time and recharge. Introverts enjoy spending time alone and in their thoughts, and use solitude to get their energy, while extroverts enjoy and get energy from spending time with others. And even more, introverts aren't incapable of interacting with others just as extroverts aren't incapable of being alone for a bit, they may just interact in a different way than you might be used to. Introverts might only speak up when they feel they have something useful to say, even if they're still going to be listening throughout the whole conversation. The point is, the difference between introversion and extroversion isn't as simple as someone's personality traits, it's a lot more their actions, and how and when they tend to spend their time. Not that I knew that, of course, and that's where Rin comes in.

Laid-Back Camp starts with a classic anime slice of life setup. The introverted Shima Rin runs into the extroverted Nadeshiko Kagamihara, and it immediately became apparent that Nadeshiko was going to get Rin to come out of her shell, join the school's camping club, and spend more time with others... but that's not what happened. Rin did end up making friends with Nadeshiko and the members of the club, and even finds enjoyment in going camping with them every once in a while, but she also spends a lot of time going solo camping like she usually does and never actually ended up joining the club. Rin makes sure to set her boundaries, and Nadeshiko is perfectly accepting of this, even trying out solo camping on her own in Season 2. In Laid-Back Camp, wanting to spend time by yourself or do things at your one pace is perfectly valid and understandable.

When I first saw this series, I was completely baffled, and it kinda shows in my review. While I gave Laid-Back Camp a generally positive score of 3/5, most of my criticisms revolved around the fact that the entire cast didn't spend enough time all together and that there were a lot of scenes with characters on their own, as if that made the show more boring for some reason. And sure, Laid-Back Camp's character interactions are great, but I feel like my reaction stemmed not really having seen an introverted character like Shima Rin. Rin doesn't start the series alone (she's friends with Ena Saito), and she doesn't have any desire to make more friends or put herself out there. She's perfectly fine with camping on her own, even taking enjoyment in it. That type of character is so rare that I didn't think a show could have been written around it, but Laid-Back Camp continues to surprise.

I rewatched Laid-Back Camp recently, partially because I wanted something comfy and partially because I wanted to focus on watching it through the lens of Rin, and I realized a lot. For starters, I really started to notice just how much I related to Rin, especially whenever she pulls out her disgusted face. But I also realized just how much the show manages to actually make her introversion interesting. For starters, Rin is the only narrator in the series, which makes perfect sense since introverts tend to think to themselves a lot. So whenever Rin is on her own, you still get some dialogue in her inner thoughts, as well as the beautiful backdrops of whatever camping site she's at in any given episode. In addition, Laid-Back Camp is the absolute gold standard for text messages in any show ever, using cute chibi sprites to denote the characters texting, having the voice actors read out the texts out loud, and keeping the eyes busy through either a charming character reaction or a beautiful piece of scenery. Here's a few examples:

There's something really forced about the way text is used in a lot of media, as if the crew and writers are trying to be trendy despite texting currently being a part of life. Part of that is with the dialogue, which has never felt as naturally as it does here, but another part is that media tends to just shove in texting just to scream at the viewer: "Hey! It's the 21st century! Did you know that people text?! We're hip!". But in Laid-Back Camp, the text messages serve a purpose of not only letting the characters interact despite being separated, but also by tying it into introversion. Many introverts feel more comfortable texting or using social media than interacting in person, since they'll still have their space and can spend more time thinking of responses. Laid-Back Camp depicts texting in a positive light and shows how Rin and the rest of the cast use it to connect and communicate, which is something I really wish more shows would do.

Laid-Back Camp changed the way I viewed myself and television as a whole. Ever since watching it, I have so much less patience for series who stereotype introverts, because Rin's depiction shows you can pull off that type of character in a respectful way while keeping the anime enjoyable. It also ruined texting in movies and TV shows for me, and I wish every show would take the Laid-Back Camp route in that front. I've related to shy characters before, like Mio Akiyama from K-On, but Rin was the first time I felt like I truly saw myself in a character. She makes all the decisions that I would've probably have made, and just watching her be secure in her introversion made me feel more secure in my own.

On Filler (And Long Seasons As A Whole)

I've written about this in a lot of my reviews, but I did want to compile my general opinions on the matter in a single post so I don't have to constantly reiterate it whenever the topic comes up. I don't like the term "filler", or at least how it's been used lately. I constantly see the term used to describe episodes that don't contribute to the overall plot, episodes that the viewers don't like, and even episodes that do contribute to the plot but aren't those big "Wham episodes" that really push the story forward. And look, I get that. I love big plot developments and climactic season finales as much as the next person, but they wouldn't be nearly as impactful if the show didn't have any room to breathe. And with TV seasons being so much shorter nowadays, it really feels like the medium is losing that breathing room that really makes it special.

So what really is filler? For me, it's when a TV show is blatantly padding itself out for one reason or another. It's most obvious in the case of an anime, especially when it's adapted from a manga. If an anime caught up to the manga it's adapting, or just started an entirely original arc, that's probably filler. In the case of live-action TV, the necessity for filler is usually warranted by a lack of budget. That's how we get stuff like clip shows and bottle episodes. And then there's the weird cases, like the first season of 24, which was originally intended on having 13 episodes before ultimately getting the full 24. It's pretty obvious the showrunners needed to find ways to extend the season's conflict, which is why we ended up getting that godawful amnesia plot. Still, this doesn't technically mean that filler can be bad, per se. For every TNG's Shades Of Grey, there's also a Breaking Bad's Fly, an episode that uses the show's limitations to great effect and is so gripping and well-shot that I tend to forget it mostly takes place in a single room.

Addendum: Sailor Moon had an entire filler arc in the Makai Tree arc, 13 straight episodes of anime-exclusive content. However, the fact that it is filler doesn't make it bad, it's still a really solid streak of episodes with fun villains, creative episode premises, and some of the best utilization of the side cast.

However, I absolutely do not think that just any episode that doesn't have any big plot developments can be classified as a filler. The term filler implies that the reasoning for an episode to be made is to pad out a show or season, so the only real way to know if an episode is "filler" would be to look at the production behind it. But I think my biggest issue with the term is that it's used derogatorily, as if to describe any episode that the viewer doesn't think is good enough. Once again, I love big plot-heavy episodes but episodes that don't progress the plot all that much still have a very important place in TV. The existence of these types of episodes allow more chances to flesh out the characters and the show's world itself. For example, I love it when TV shows start off episodic but slowly get more serialized over time. I wouldn't get as attached to the plot stuff if I didn't have all those standalone episodes to get attached to the cast and learn more about the world.

But most importantly, standalone episodes like these gives the cast and crew a chance to experiment, which usually leads to some of the best episodes in all of television. For example, Avatar's Tales Of Ba Sing Se and The Ember Island Players are some of my favorites in the series despite being almost entirely standalone, with the former especially being one of the most beloved by fans. The X-Files' Monster Of The Week episodes are often considered to be even better than the Myth Arc episodes. Not to mention Buffy's Dopplegangland, Psych's Last Night Gus, Farscape's A Constellation Of Doubt, Fringe's White Tulip, and of course, The Sopranos's Pine Barrens (often considered to be one of the best episodes of TV period). An episode not progressing the plot doesn't make it bad at all, it lets the crew develop the characters and experiment a bit. I've seen some people describe these as "good filler" but, I'm sorry, that just doesn't make sense!

Still, those are all legitimately great episodes. What if an episode doesn't progress the plot and I don't like it? Well, I still wouldn't call it filler. I'd just call it a bad episode. For example, the Ronaldo episodes in Steven Universe suck, but it's not because they tend to not progress the overall story, it's because they focus around an unlikable character (I actually really like most of the Beach City episodes, by the way). Passing off every episode you don't like as filler feels like an easy way to undercut any genuinely interesting and productive discussion on the quality of an episode. Since I'm probably in the minority when it comes to this topic, TV seasons have gotten a lot shorter, with many being around 6-10 episodes nowadays. And honestly, I kinda hate that. Sure, now every episode develops the overall plot and the pacing is usually really tight, but I feel like we're losing a core part of what I love about TV. And that's being able to invest a lot of time in a show's world and the characters that inhabit it. These "filler episodes" can help me learn more about characters I previously didn't like or found under-developed, they can let the writers take risks and do things that they wouldn't be able to with just a few episodes, and they feel like an integral part of their respective shows regardless. Shows like Star Trek, Buffy, The X-Files, Farscape, Agents Of Shield, and Person Of Interest wouldn't be what they are without their Monster Of The Week episodes, I don't even think I'd love them as much.

Once again, there are definitely many cases where the showrunners have to pad out a season due to concerns over a lack of budgeting, adaptation of the source material, or an obligation to reach a certain amount of episodes per season. But calling every episode that doesn't progress the story a "filler" episode implies the cast and crew didn't put the same effort and care into it that they put into any other episode, that it's a throwaway they had to do out of obligation rather than an artistic choice, which is rarely actually the case. Maybe they wanted to develop the characters, do something different, or just give the show time to breathe. And if you still don't like an episode beyond it not having any plot progression, then just explain why it's bad. As for me, I'll continue to watch every episode and take them all as they are, regardless of whether or not they have a big impact on the plot.

Dark (revisited)

I tend to be really positive with these reviews of mine, because I like to try and find qualities to enjoy about every piece of media I consume, even when it comes to stuff I don't like. However, in the case of Dark, I feel like I was positive to the point of sugercoating my own complaints. Probably because of how popular and well-received the show was, I felt like I had to put a disclaimer every time I criticized the show. Since then, it seemed like my Dark review just didn't reflect my true opinions on the show, so I want to revisit it one last time, to finally give my true, uncensored opinions: I don't like Dark at all. As a matter of fact, out of all the shows I have reviewed on this site, it's probably my least favorite.

First, I just want to get the positives out of the way really quickly. The production and cinematography is really good. The whole series has this eerie, chilling atmosphere that really makes it stand out. I also have to praise its approach to time travel. I've written multiple times about how easy it is to use time travel the wrong way and make a convoluted, plot-hole-ridden, mess of a story. And while Dark is definitely complex, its insane Gordian knot of timelines actually holds together shockingly well. This is an airtight show, one that definitely lives up to its claim that "everything is connected". While I don't like the show, I will always use it as an example of time travel done right. And probably my biggest compliment, I actually enjoyed Season 1. At that point, there was an actual novelty to the mystery and not knowing what was going on, and the show wasn't too overly complicated to the point where it became nearly impossible to follow. There are definitely aspects to Dark that I did really like, and I still agree with not giving the show a full-on 1 or 0 stars. However, don't get me wrong, I have a lot of gripes about this show.

Getting the most important complaint out of the way, I think Dark is too complicated. As mentioned above, the first season was fine, but as the show began adding timelines and alternate universes, it just became too overwhelming to keep track of. All the characters, storylines, subplots, and the insanity that is the show's family tree is too much for one person to handle. It all made watching the show a slog, since I pretty much had to spend around half an hour after every episode doing research to make sure I picked up on everything. I'm sure some people enjoy doing this, but I sure as hell don't. I shouldn't need to do homework to understand what's even going on in a TV show. The exposition definitely doesn't help with this. Dark is stuffed to the brim with dull exposition dumps that don't explain things in a clear manner, with many of the expositors delivering their information through vague metaphors. Even worse, these exposition dumps tend to end really abruptly, with the expositor withholding information that they obviously know from the other characters for no real reason other than to be enigmatic and mysterious. And I didn't even talk about how the exposition is delivered. For some reason, the showrunners thought it made sense for each line of dialogue to have 15-or-so seconds of silence spaced between them. Maybe it's to maintain a serious tone, but it just comes off as awkward. 

Speaking of a serious tone, Dark is so unbelievably lacking in any self-awareness or levity whatsoever that it just made the show even harder to watch. Look, I love me some angst and dramatic arguments, but every single facet of the show took itself incredibly seriously, to the point where the only times I laughed were completely on accident. The awkward silence and clunky exposition mentioned above definitely elicited a few laughs, but I think the sheer repetition of Dark also contributed to a lot of that unintentional humor. The fact that nearly every episode starts with a sex scene and ends with a musical number, the absolutely ridiculous incest storyline, the bizarre twists that only get more and more insane, all of it was played entirely seriously. However, the repetitive aspects of Dark also probably contributed to why none of the later seasons stacked up to the first. Those vague expository conversations were intriguing at first, but eventually, they just became frustrating. The initially chilling and unconventional soundtrack was reused so frequently that it lost its luster. And the more crazy mind screw twists the show would throw at me, the less I could bring myself to care.

And that leads to my biggest problem with the show, which is the characters. Dark boasts a massive cast of characters, made even larger due to their variants from the other timelines and realities. However, I can't remember a single one other than Jonas, who's arguably the main protagonist. There's the obvious problem that such a massive cast can be spread pretty thin, but I think even worse is the fact that none of them really get any development. Eventually, most of these characters end up serving one of two roles: delivering exposition or receiving exposition. They're all assholes who keep secrets from each other and screw over their family members, with nothing differentiating them in terms of personality. If you've seen my reviews, you know how much I put stock in a strong cast of characters that I can empathize with. They don't even need to be good people as long as I can understand their motivations. None of Dark's characters have clear motivations, so I don't care about any of them. I've heard this argument that you're not supposed to care about the characters, that your role as a viewer of Dark is just to observe this town and the events that happen there. That leads a big problem, though. How am I supposed to care what happens in this town if I don't care about any of the people who live in it? And even more, why would I want to watch this town if I don't care about anything that happens in it?

I felt like I had to force myself to finish this show, just because I wanted to write a review about it. I was as positive as I could possibly be, just knowing that maybe I was missing something and that it really was the near masterpiece the internet said it was, and I was wrong. I shouldn't have forced myself to finish a show I didn't like, and I shouldn't have watered down my own opinions just because I was in the minority. I didn't like Dark, and that's perfectly fine. It has its good points, like all media does, but the forgettable characters, clunky and frequent exposition, overly complicated plotting, hilarious lack of self-awareness, and repetitive story elements all added up for an incredibly unenjoyable experience for me. I don't mean to take away from anyone who did like the show, I just wanted to fully explain why it didn't work for me. And with this, I hope I can close the book on Dark once and for all.

2/5 Stars