*Spitting out my coffee*
Mad Men was a truly great show but it was essentially a very brainy and sociologically-themed soap opera. You could definitely feel for characters, as you would in any quality film, but it wasn't exactly "real" nor did it rise above escapism at all times.
Breaking Bad was a comic book thriller.
The Sopranos was an extremely well-written crime soap.
Ok, you started off arguing that fiction in "real" settings is inherently more compelling, but now you seem to want to talk about "reality tv" shows instead.
Of course that's only part of it, as I have already said. Unless we come up with an example we will keep talking past each other.
No... he's *more* relatable because DD is a human being.
For any practical narrative purpose, Frodo is a human being as well. He's got human emotions, human psychology, human facial expression, lives in what is for all intents and purposes a human agrarian culture, and literally the only thing that makes him not human is that the author called him a Hobbit. If Tolkien had merely said he was short would you then be willing to buy in?
If you're unwilling to buy into Frodo because he's short, why would I buy into Don Draper, who is a powerful male? How can I identify with this Diana Prince person, when she is clearly a brunette?
Ultimately the reason we build rapport with fictional characters isn't physical characteristics or labels that are attached to them.
(sidebar: in a genre where major events always seem to center around Kings and Lords and great heroes and powerful entities of all kinds, Tolkien made the Hobbits the most relatable protagonists possible. Surrounded by the likes of Aragorn and Gandalf and Galadriel, Frodo and friends represent the everyman.)
Robert Reed (Mr. Brady from The Brady Bunch) wrote a famous memo to Sherwood Swartz:
https://www.ericdsnider.com/blog/batman-in-the-operating-room-why-some-comedy-isnt-funny/
He's making a point that relates to something I've learned in writing, which was expressed to me as "make a promise to your reader, and keep it." You need to establish a tone quickly to let your reader know what you're offering them, and if it's interesting to them they'll keep reading and if it's not interesting to them or if they can't figure out what you're offering them, they'll put your story down and read something else. Batman showing up in the operating room, or turning your satire into a slapstick, would be examples of breaking your promise to your audience. On the other hand, when the gang in Blazing Saddles brawl all the way off the set into the movie studio and out into the parking lot, we've already been primed for something completely absurd to happen, so this is right up our alley.
Nothing in what Reed is saying actually suggests that a "real" frame is inherently better. Indeed, as the accompanying article says:
To summarize, Reed’s basic point is this: You cannot mix wildly different theatrical styles within the same production. If a show starts out being realistic (whether drama or comedy), then the audience expects realism. We don’t have to suspend our disbelief very much. But if suddenly a non-realistic element like slapstick or fantasy is injected, we are thrown off. We have not been prepared to accept something like that.
We have no problem accepting a fire-breathing dragon in a production that has already established itself as fantasy. But if that dragon were to appear in a Neil Simon comedy, we would find it baffling and unbelievable.
If you're watching Lord of the Rings, and find yourself unable to empathize with a main character because he's 3 feet tall and has hairy feet, you're just watching the wrong movie.
In Game of Thrones, we don't actually see any dragons until episode 10. But they set a tone right from episode 1 that lets us know we're not watching a fairy-tale with knights in shining armor and happy endings. The hatching of the baby dragons at the end of episode 10 is preceded by 9 episodes of brutal violence, gut-twisting tension, startling betrayal, and all manner of other unpleasantness. Anybody who thought they were getting a happy care-free fairy-tail was probably long gone by the end of episode 3.
I struggle with 'less worthy'. Like saying 'Coca Cola isn't nutrious' it's not exactly true. I have never said that there's no worth to escapist fiction or trivial fiction but that - like a balanced diety - a healthy society demands more.
Ok, well I have watched most of the things I have commented on. I haven't seen GoT so I can't comment on it much, except to say that I don't see how fantasy can challenge reality for a deep experience. It's no comment on GoT which I hear is great.
Because like all great fiction, it taps into human experience that transcends genre.
Can you explore grief without causing it 'grief tourism' ? If so, then I don't see how you could go more real than intervention. The Americas have a huge addiction problem and this is a way to see it in front of your face, and feel it in your heart.
We need to explore our pain through the arts. Do you disagree ? There is indeed a counter-argument. I think of 'Sullivan's Travels' which is a serio-comic classic film that explores this question in an entertaining and intelligent way.
I'm not sure that spending a half-hour a week vicariously sharing the grief of drug-stricken families would really make me understand the drug crisis any better. It might make me feel sad for a while, but is that inherently valuable? "The drug crisis goes on, but Kimmy has shed tears and is now Woke
tm."
Obesity is a huge problem (no pun intended) as well, and I accidentally watched a few minutes of one of those shows that follows the struggles of morbidly obese people trying to lose weight. I understood that it was a big struggle for them. I understood that they felt very bad that they kept letting themselves down. But so what? At the end of the day, my feeling sorry for some fat-people for a few minutes didn't make me feel "edified" or "nurtured". I'm struggling to think of any positives I took away from it.
And how real is it, anyway?
Every once in a while I hear a reporter on CBC radio go do interviews with homeless people. Apparently an attempt to humanize them and build sympathy or something. But the interviews never talk about the freak-outs and fights I see on a regular basis, never talk about people passed out in a pool of their own vomit, never talk about dropping trow and pissing on the street in front of pedestrians. Doesn't talk about business owners shoveling human excrement off their steps each morning... stuff that I know is real that somehow doesn't make the cut for radio. What did the fat-people show decide didn't merit showing? What part did the intervention show leave out? Are you being "edified", or just being manipulated?
-k