When TV Becomes Trivial - Analysis of The 100 S5

"I'm going to write because I cannot help it," -Charlotte Bronte

As you all well know, my favorite hobby is analyzing stories. And, of course, I like to analyze the content I'm consuming. 

Is anyone surprised?

Anyway, Season 5 of my third favorite tv show - The 100 - has been airing for the past month, and I've been noticing a trend that's concerning. It has also plagued The CW's Riverdale. It could be that these two shows come from the same network, but alas. It's still a problem. 

Season Five picks back up at the very end where Season Four left off, with Clarke radioing Bellamy, and a mysterious ship appearing in the air. And from there, there's only about a one episode interlude of establishing both where Clarke is on earth and where Bellamy and the others are in space. One other episode is spent on Octavia in the bunker, but otherwise, the episodes plunge right back into the thick of the plot. 

And already, we have a problem. This season's conflict arises when a group of prisoners come down from their mother ship to fight for the last habitable spot on earth - well, North America at least. 

And my question is this: why focus on this when there are six years worth of quality material that is just skipped over? The stories within the six years are far more interesting that just watching our heroes defeat yet another villain. Imagine all of the things that happened to them over six years that changed them and shape them into who they are. Skipping all of this time and just breezing right past all of that good character material is just a disservice. 

This is, unfortunately, a pitfall that many tv shows fall into. Once Upon A Time and The Walking Dead, to name a few. And it all culminates to the fact that the writers start writing for the thrills and stop writing for the characters, which is a one-stop-shop to failure. The characters of The 100 feel disconnected from who they were, which is a tragedy. But it would be less of a tragedy if the writers spent more time developing who they had changed into. 

However, I think this is a systemic problem with television though. The writers can't see a permanent end in sight because they never know if the show is going to be renewed, and if they do, it's probably too little too late to fix all of their problems. When you can't see a permanent end in sight, meaning something that overarcs through the whole series, it all feels . . . trivial. Like nothing matters, and all of the characters seem to reset at the beginning of another season. 

The problem when tv shows drag on and on, like The 100 is gearing towards, is that it starts writing for the thrills and not writing for the characters. The writers think they need to keep the watchers hooked with big reveals and plot twists, but all they really need is solid characters with growing arcs. I'm afraid that this is what The 100 is becoming, because jumping right back into the action without giving these characters time to develop - or even breathe - makes all of the other time we spent with them in past seasons feel wasted. It all loses meaning when the writers forget to focus on the most important part of the story. 

The 100 is a good show. It has strong characters, heartbreaking arcs, and interesting and complex themes and morals. Don't let stats, viewership, or the uncertainty of renewal draw your focus away from what really keeps viewers: the characters. I'm looking at you, Jason Rothenberg. You can do better. You have done better. 

~The WordShaker

New Novels, Living Life, and Endings

"Stay faithful to the stories in your head," -Paula Hawkins

I think I've been really slacking on these analysis posts, guys. While I love them, they do take a lot of work - a.k.a. a lot of time and effort that I just haven't had lately. 

However, a lot of things have happened in my life that are definitely worth noting.

First off, being that I started a new novel! You may know this if you follow me on Instagram, because I've posted several hints as to what it is - 

- and unfortunately this is not the place nor the time at which I'm going to tell you what my current WIP is about. All I'll reveal is the title: 

Casually Homicidal

And an aesthetic collage to satisfy the masses:

Alas, some changes have been rolling through my Instagram - I've changed my theme! The blue sheet is gone, and now every photo will be taken in front of or around my bookshelf!

Unfortunately, Casually Homicidal is moving at a snail's pace - which is better than not at all. But I've realized that I have two settings: living and writing. I can't really seem to do both. 

My life goes through phases - either I'm out living my life to the fullest, having new and different experiences, or I'm neck deep in a story. And when I try and do both, both aspects suffer. It's a bit frustrating because I feel . . . incomplete if I'm not working on a story. 

I've got a sign in my room that says "live for the moments you can't put into words". I've been trying to live by that. If I don't live my life, how will I have anything to write about?

Speaking of life, I graduated high school. 

I suppose the weight of that speaks for itself. If you saw the post I made this past Tuesday, then this might be some recap. 

But really, overall, I just feel . . . conflicted. Part excited and part so incredibly done but also a lot sad. Yeah, mostly sad. 

It's a surreal feeling really, how much my life is going to change. A lot of lasts have happened in the past few weeks, and just having that itching and clawing at the back of mind makes everything a shade grayer. 

I've been reflecting on, I guess, how I started high school, what place I was in, and now how I'm leaving high school. 

When I started high school in 2014 I wanted to die. Sorry for the bluntness - might as well get it out of the way now. But really, I suffered from really bad anxiety and depression from about 2013-2015. I still struggle with anxiety, but it's nowhere near as bad. But truly, for a long time, I was nothing but a well of unending pain. 

Fast forward four years, and here I am. Better than ever, with a published novel, amazing friends, and . . . a bright future. That sounds sappy, but trust me, it's true. I'm not the person I was four years ago, which, by all accounts, is a good thing. 

So, I guess there's not really a point to that story other than reflecting on what these four years have done to me and what they've given me. Reflecting back on who I've been, so I can know who I'll become. 

And I also want to say thank you. 

I don't really feel like listing anyone, because I know I'll forget someone and then I'll feel bad.

Alas. Thank you for changing me. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for giving me a home. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the heartache. 

For it all has made me who I am. 

~The WordShaker

An Open Letter to Marvel: Respect Your Dead

"If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people," - Virginia Woolf

WARNING: This post contains massive spoilers for 2017's Logan and 2018's Avengers: Infinity War. 

Did y'all really think I wasn't going to make an analysis post about Infinity War? C'mon, do you even know me?

Well, this post really isn't about Infinity War strictly. It's more of a recurring trope in Marvel properties that drives me up a wall, across the ceiling, and down the other side. 

An Open Letter to Marvel: Respect Your Dead

Marvel does not respect its dead. 

Marvel does this in two ways - one being the just-kidding death slash the resurrection death, and the second by not giving fictional death the proper treatment it deserves.

Consider Loki's death at the beginning of the movie. Loki has died . . . how many times now? Maybe just once, but the fact is that we all believed he was dead, and then he 'resurrected'.  Same with Nick Fury. The problem is that many deaths in the MCU are seen as temporary, as plot devices, or for shock value instead of being portrayed as what they actually are - deaths of (fictional) human beings. (Shoutout to my homie Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 for actually giving a character a good and respectful death.)

If you'll remember from my review of the masterpiece that is Logan - read that here - then you'll remember my only real gripe was that Professor X's death wasn't given more time. The title character of the entire X-Men franchise just died. His death really needed to sink in, and there needed to be just a bit longer of a lull for both the characters and the audience to feel the full effect of the moment. 

And I have this same complaint with Infinity War.

At the very end, Thanos snapped his fingers and half of our beloved characters dissolved into dust, including Bucky Barnes. This is where the biggest crime of the century comes in. 

But it all starts with earlier in the Wakanda sequence, when Steve and Bucky are reunited. I was so incredibly excited for an emotional scene of the two life-long best friends finally seeing each other again after years of separation. 

But no. From what I remember, we got a smile and a handshake and a half-hug thing. I wanted to stand up in my seat and riot at what an absolute disappointment and bloody disservice this was to what undeniably is one of the most important relationships in the MCU. 

And it only gets worse. 

When Steve Roger's best friend of 70+ years who is his only link to his former life and whom he just got back after the trauma that was Civil War literally disappears into dust in front of his very eyes, Steve just kind of . . . touches the ground, looking shocked. 

This is not at all how he would react. His best friend has just been taken from him again and assumed dead. It was an extraordinary disservice to both Bucky and Steve that Steve had very little emotional reaction to this life-altering event. This is honestly what broke Infinity War for me, and why I'm here ripping this aspect to shreds. 

In contrast, Peter Parker's death was an absolute tear-jerker. It was so heart-breakingly human and perfect for the context of Peter and Tony. Okoye's reaction to seeing T'Challa disappear was stunning and horrifying and real. 

But the problem with all of the deaths at the end of Infinity War harks back to what I mentioned about Loki, as well as the deaths of Bucky and Professor X, etc. Most of the people who died in Infinity War probably aren't actually dead. There is the time stone after all, and heck, Red Skull is technically still out there. 

But the problem that the MCU has is, that when a character does die, the audience has trouble believing that this character is actually dead or permanently dead. This causes a myriad of problems, ranging from the inability to mourn characters when they actually do die, to breaking the suspension of disbelief within the universe. It dissolves all tension, all of the impact that a good character death can have, when in the back of the audience's mind, they're thinking of all of the other times that characters have 'died' or died and gotten resurrected. Why trick the audience with an emotional bait and switch? What narrative purpose does this serve other than shock value? By devaluing character deaths, it creates an emotional separation between the audience and the character, which is the exact opposite of a good thing. 

The truth is, is that the MCU does not allow the characters nor the audience to fully mourn the deaths of the characters, or even believe their deaths at times, abusing and overusing the intended effect of a character death. 

An argue against this is that sometimes death is sudden, and sometimes, in reality, we don't have time to process death as it happens. And to that I say: fiction - much less, superhero movies -  aren't real life. The writers/directors can and should give the characters and the audience the mourning time they deserve. These are characters we've spent hours with. Give the fictional dead and their fictional loved ones respect and care. 

Wow, it sounds like I'm crazy, doesn't it?

~The WordShaker