Rewatching is changing art
How many times have you watched your favorite TV shows and comedy specials?
Confession: I’ve been rewatching Parks and Recreation.
With the endless sea of #content available to us, why would anyone spend hours watching something they’ve already seen (let alone watched all the way through twice before)?
That’s a question I’ve been thinking about a lot because I’m far from alone. Millennials have famously rewatched Friends and The Office to the point that the removal of either/both from Netflix has been viewed as an existential crisis for the streaming platform. Parks and Rec is almost continually trending on Netflix, and when we’re not rewatching a Greg Daniels show, millennials are watching New Girl for the fourth time.
Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, etc. have caught on to the binge-watching trend, but I think they’re missing a much more important way to keep your viewers hooked: the comfort rewatch. These platforms are investing shocking amounts of money into expensive shows to fulfill the demand for shiny, new, binge-watch-worthy content, but wouldn’t offerings that people will want to watch over and over (and over) be a better long-term investment?
In a golden age of streaming, great sitcoms are a glaring omission. All of the beloved, much-rewatched shows I just mentioned built up a fan base over years on good old-fashioned network TV. The Catch-22 of sitcoms is that we love to rewatch them, but in the age of streaming, they’re rare because they take time to get good.
When platforms are prioritizing immediate binge-watched hits in season 1, they’re not going to give shows several seasons to build and get better. Netflix’s One Day at a Time, for instance, was just beginning to get traction in its fourth season when the platform dropped it. I binge-watched Merry Happy Whatever over a weekend and would have enjoyed the promised follow-up season where the family hangs out for Easter, but its season 2 was cancelled.
I don’t know how to solve streaming’s sitcom problem, but I think art evolves around the way we consume it, and canny creators will reflect that with the art they make in 2020 and beyond. Sitcoms and comedy specials are both created to make us laugh, but the world of streaming has served one far better than the other. Hannah Gadsby, best known for her comedy special Nanette, talked about the rewatching trend in a recent interview on fellow standup comedian Mike Birbiglia’s podcast Working It Out. For her follow-up special, Douglas, she intentionally created a show that feels whole and builds on itself with layers of callback jokes, a show to reward repeat viewings because that’s how people watch things now.
As they talk about in the interview, both Birbiglia and Gadsby have been accused of “not really doing standup comedy.” I found this accusation hilarious and also very revealing about whoever is saying it. As a mid-generation millennial, I didn’t really discover standup comedy until Netflix not only existed but also had time to build up an incredible treasure trove of diverse comedic voices. Birbiglia’s second special, My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend, was one of the first times I remember being blown away by comedy, realizing a special could be funny AND tell a whole story that sticks with you for a long time. It never occurred to me to say what Birbiglia did “wasn’t” standup comedy because … it was literally one of my main introductions to standup comedy.
Art is shaped by its audience, for better or worse. I worry for sitcoms. But I’d say that standup comedy is evolving for the better, with millennial comics like John Mulaney and Taylor Tomlinson creating specials that people watch over and over because they’re genuinely worth watching over and over. As Gadsby explains, there’s a difference between creating a show that is a series of good jokes strung together and building a whole special that feels complete. To quote her new special, Douglas, “invest.” These stories are worth rewatching.
For anyone who needs a movie escape with Twilight Zone vibes:
My obsession with Rod Serling’s then-groundbreaking TV series goes way, way back, and there isn’t really a higher compliment from me than saying “this felt like a Twilight Zone episode.” The One I Love, a 2014 Sundance film billed as a thriller and starring Elisabeth Moss and Mark Duplass, has all the hallmarks of the best episodes: a normal situation with relatable people that rapidly becomes very, very weird. If that sounds like your jam, stream it on Netflix without googling it beforehand. You don’t want any spoilers for this quirky suspense flick/dark comedy that will have you wondering what goes on in the other rooms of your house when you’re not in them.
For readers who are ready to lean into the swerve of this whole COVID-19 thing:
Sometime back in late March/early April when the pandemic felt new and terrifying, I tried to read The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker. It wasn’t the right time to pick up a book about the potential end of the world and humanity as we know it. For whatever reason, now that we are all matter-of-factly wearing masks and making references to getting tested and being in quarantine, I was able to pick up and recently finish reading her viral pandemic novel, The Dreamers. The story starts with one college student who goes into a heavy sleep and just doesn’t wake up; she’s still alive and she appears to be dreaming. Her condition spreads to others, until there are hundreds of cases and the city is on lockdown. Walker is a lyrical writer who weaves in and out of the lives and perspectives of her novel’s ensemble cast with ease, and while her vision feels frighteningly close at times, the hopeful ending (if that’s not too much of a spoiler) renewed my belief in human resilience and our own reality’s journey to an After. This is not forever.
For standup comedy fans who love to invest in new voices:
The fascinating and delightful thing about hour-long comedy specials is that you are seeing the results of a comedian working hard for years to build up a repertoire of jokes and learn through trial and error to make it look easy. We are truly in luck in the age of streaming because Netflix has been investing in a range of diverse voices, ensuring that 1) there’s a comedic voice for everyone to relate to and 2) standup comedy is a great way to stand in someone else’s shoes. Sam Jay’s 3 in the Morning comedy special, which came to Netflix this month, is one of my latest “telling everyone to go watch this now” obsessions. Whether she’s relating self-deprecating observational jokes about her own neurotic tendencies on airplanes or worrying about having a kid that’s obnoxiously smart, Jay doesn’t hold back. I loved this special because I also get very stressed out when people don’t put their phones on “airplane mode” when the pilot says to, but more than that, I loved being reminded about the infinite space in comedy for new voices and representation and joy. After almost four years, you might think there isn’t anything new and funny to say about the, ahem, current presidential administration; of course, we can trust a black, queer, female comic to come along and prove that wrong.
Easily three or four