Happy Pride Month!
I keep telling myself: I’m going to carve out more time. I’m going to carve out more time to read academically-minded books about TV, I’m going to carve out time to watch those older iconic prestige dramas on my list, I’m going to carve out more time to write. Any time I seem to free up gets filled up, lately, by the TV Bloat. Episodes are too damn long! There, I said it. Stranger Things was the straw that broke the TV critic’s back, for me. I can’t even bring myself to engage with it (for now) because the idea of sitting down for a 2-hour episode of a scripted show seems exhausting. It’s almost like I have to watch it in small chunks. In shorter…episodes.
As we say goodbye to This Is Us, also gone are the days of the tight 42-minute drama episode. If Lost could do it, why can’t today’s dramas? I don’t mind the occasional 50-minute episode, sometimes it feels quite warranted for a show like Yellowjackets where there’s so much going on. But lately, television has been making me feel like I’m constantly stuck in indigestion. Instead of putting on Stranger Things, I suddenly feel myself gravitating toward briefer shows instead: throwing on the final episodes of Grace & Frankie, watching Molly Shannon on I Love That For You, and avoiding some of the lengthy dramas I have yet to get to (Shining Girls, We Own This City, Under the Banner of Heaven, Slow Horses, Angelyne, Night Sky…good god the list goes on). Hell, I might even start watching Barry, just for those delicious 30 minute episodes. So, what to do?