On Television and Conan
Apologies for the non-sequitur, but I think what’s happening with the Tonight Show is relevant for those in my demographic who, like me, were raised by television. It was a childhood I remember fondly. I woke up to morning news, came home to cartoons and was gently rocked to slumber by the local news and late night talk. Like any good parent, TV had some pretty outrageous bedtime stories, only instead of princes and dragons, it offered Joey Buttafuoco jokes, the Dancing Lance Ito’s and closed each evening with a musical guest. (Sorry, unless your dad is Mel fucking Brooks, that’s not going to be topped) Back then, before the heady days of Tivo, on-screen channel guides and even remote controls[1] with which to jump back and forth, you had to choose one or the other. The children of the 80’s had “Magic or Bird?” we had “Leno or Letterman?” That choice wasn’t a matter of simple preference, it was an expository statement on one’s very being. I was (and still am though I never watch) a Letterman. Where does that put me politically, philosophically, socially, spiritually? I have no idea, but I think my being a Letterman is more richly descriptive than being conservative or Buddhist or bisexual[2].
That being said, I’m moderately saddened by these recent developments with Conan and NBC even though I long ago stopped watching late night. They should have known the golden age of the 11:35 time slot was going to die once Leno left. Like any great empire, the success of the charismatic post-local news funny man was also the source of his downfall. The longevity of each late night personality through the years gave them a direct association with their respective generation. The grandparents watched Sullivan or Allen[3]. The parents watched Carson (or Koppel, if they never had sex). And the current TV consumer associates the conclusion of their day’s media intake with either Letterman or Leno. I don’t love Conan, but the problem isn’t him—he’s actually pretty good at what he does. The problem is that the current audience, raised by Jay and Dave, is the last generation of Americans whose chief entertainment is television. I’m not saying TV viewers as a whole are disappearing; we’re watching more television than ever, if anything. The internet enhanced the viewing experience. Not only can you watch Lost, you can now also catch up on episodes online, read blogs dedicated to plot conjecture and find out exactly what Matthew Fox was doing all these years between Party of Five and Lost.
It’s not that we’ve replaced TV consumption with the internet, it’s that we’re consuming more media than ever before (in more mediums than ever before). With such inflation, there comes a natural shift in demand. The shrunken attention spans of the viral-video generation have no patience for hour long shows with draconian amounts of commercials and fillers. Just how annoying is the we’re back from commercial, but we’re not actually back, we’re just getting your hopes up to send you back to commercial? Why put up with that when the internet will boil down the show for you the next morning? Even for those who possess archaic, pre-Tivo amounts of patience, is there a demand for current events regurgitated in joke-form at the end of the day when Twitter and Facebook already did so in real time. Think of how frequently Dave and Jay open jokes with “Did you hear about this?” Actually, yeah. Yeah, we did hear about that. Many times, in fact. Even Shaq tweeted about it.
While I thought it was a noble gesture for Conan to take a stand with his open letter to the viewing public, I think it will ultimately be futile. Men of his ilk are going the way of the dinosaur. Our pop-culture ecosystem is as intricate and fragile as anything seen on Planet Earth; even the slightest imbalance can cause extinction. It’s disheartening, but inevitable… they cycle of life. All I can really say is, “thanks for the bedtime stories guys.”
No comments:
Post a Comment