To spoil or not to spoil, that is the question.
And what a question it is when the resolution to the season’s best cliffhangers is a mouse click away.
The temptation to skim over those few lines that promise the mind reprieve from their rerun-stunted existence is all too difficult to bear.
I must say, I’ve always considered myself somewhat of a spoiler whore. I read them en masse then discuss them with everyone I know, irregardless of whether they care or not. This is has led to broken relationships and a disgruntled TV-watching friend circle, but I digress. Turns out, some people like to be surprised.
There is much to be said about the element of surprise and revelation in prime-time today. The twisty plot-paths adopted by shows like Lost, Alias and 24 place big emphasis on revelation as a means to keep audiences interested. But what happens, when you’re the executive producer of a mega-hit and all your deep, dark cliffhangers are hanging out to dry on some of the most frequented spoiler sites the net has to offer?
Many a discontented TV writer has spoken about spoilers in the past. They take away from the show’s appeal, ruin the flow of a long-standing narrative and turn viewers away prematurely.
If writers are doing their job effectively though, spoilers shouldn’t matter.
A fan may want to skip mid-season show hiatuses by reading what will happen next, or perhaps they simply want some satisfaction that their oh-so-beloved characters will end up okay. It’s instant wish-fulfillment, and unfortunately, cinematic suspense is forfeited.
What isn’t forfeited however is the literary suspense. The shock that comes with a piece of good writing—a simple etching of a pen on paper, or in this case of a few words on the internet.
Yes, spoilers will inform me of the big happenings of my favourite show weeks early, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it. I’d be lying if I said my heart doesn’t skip a beat, or if I’ve yielded from frantically messaging everyone on my MSN list about the latest breaking spoilers of my favourite TV show. If anything, the spoilers make me anticipate the episodes even more–I’ve read the reveal, now I want to live it vicariously through the characters in their full, Technicolor TV world.
If the fans rant and rave about certain plot occurrences, writers should be pleased, not discouraged that the word got out too early. First of all fans choose to read these websites on their own accord and most people who don’t want to come across them, simply refrain from visiting those areas of the web. Secondly, it is the job of writers to endow the audience with passion for their favourite television shows. I can think of no better way to create buzz then to allow the frenzied spoiler-gabber of fan boys and girls to seep across that thing we call the World Wide Web. The internet never closes: exposure, promotion and discussion 24-7 never hurt the life of a TV show; if anything, it’s done the opposite.
Ultimately what the spoiler argument comes down to isn’t a question of the lack of impact a climax will have if its been prematurely revealed; it has more to do with the quality of the storytelling in a program.
The real mark of a good show these days is one that has been talked about, spoiled and ripped to pieces, yet still draws in its viewers every week. If scribes are desperately relying on the occasional Shockapalooza to keep their audience, they’ll have to challenge themselves to utilize newer, more original storytelling motifs.
The stakes are high in the Age of the Spoiled; the real cliffhanger is what shows will survive.
