Before I dive into my review of Alan Sepinwall's latest book "The Revolution was Televised," let me share some facts. As you notice, a lot of my blogging output on Optigrab consists of TV recaps in some form or manner. This particular phenomenon hit me around 2011 when I first began reading weekly coverage of my favorite shows via the AV Club. Around that time, I also discovered the amazing TV recapping podcast called Firewall & Iceberg hosted by Dan Fienberg and Alan Sepinwall from Hitfix. It was one thing to read recaps, but to listen to two veteran writers dispense criticism on a week to week basis not only helped me to look at TV in a more structured way, but also introduced me to shows that I otherwise would have never watched. Since, their podcast ranked #7 on My Top 50 Favorite Podcasts of 2012. In this still young year, Sepinwall has published a book detailing the progression of the modern drama TV series, and sure enough, I was excited to pick up a copy. Was this self-published book from a man who wrote an entire book on the O.C. worth it?
What exactly does "The Revolution was Televised" cover? According to the excerpt, "These 12 shows, and the many more made possible, ushered in a new golden age of television - one that made people take the medium more seriously than before." Starting the book with a brief chapter on shows that paved the way (Hill Street Blues, NYPD Blue), he helps to paint a canvas of the shows that he will cover in the upcoming 12 chapters, starting with the HBO series Oz and the Sopranos and ending with AMC's Mad Men and Breaking Bad. In between, he packs in interviews with creators, including David Milch (Deadwood) and David Simon (The Wire) who explain the creative process behind the series.
While die hards to each individual show may find some of the information as familiar, what Sepinwall manages to do is package a historical account of each of the shows as well as the networks. The book begins with Oz and how its unconventional choice to kill off its protagonist in episode one paved the way for darker, edgier content like the Sopranos. It explains how HBO went from looking for ways to escape the premium movie channel phase and become something respectable. As a result, they now have a collective of some of the best shows on TV, including alliterative cursing from Deadwood, which was inspired by Milch's insane work schedule on previous shows like NYPD Blue and Hillstreet Blues.
Almost every channel gets a few entries to show how their contribution to the medium has changed the face of culture. While many share the network looking for an identity crisis, most were uniquely hedged bets. The chapter covering Lost is a brilliant example of how a show essentially created by a TV executive after watching Robert Zemeckis' Castaway lead to him coming up with a series that shaped the way that shows now interact with their audience. It is a fascinating account of how based on the internet and feedback, the show was able to properly become the anti-Heroes and actually maintain quality for over the course of seven seasons.
Sepinwall is an expert writer and therefore is able to make all of this clinical data come off as fascinating discoveries. He almost writes as a fan as well as a historian. He isn't afraid to explain that season two of Friday Night Lights was a little bit incoherent, though he backs it with comments about why it is important for die hards to watch it. He is also able to explain how 24 and Battlestar Gallactica evolved out of the Twin Tower attacks and became metaphorical analogies of the modern times while exploring themes like racism and unity.
Almost every single chapter, while perfect in isolation, builds on top of the last. It is the effect of influence and the domino effect leading to riskier chances taken by networks. People like David Milch and the Sopranos are brought up almost repeatedly to show examples of how even Buffy the Vampire Slayer related to each other. In many ways, it was the small constructs of plots, promotion, and business executives that created what essentially reads as a golden age for the televised drama. Sepinwall covers it all in fascinating detail and while I went in knowing nothing about Oz, it will leave you wanting to watch the show for yourself. True, in order to explore certain impacts, there are spoilers, but if you are reading this book, you kind of set yourself up for it.
As someone who hasn't watched majority of these shows, I am impressed by how easily I could get engrossed in chapters on details that I knew nothing about. Sepinwall is a fine writer, whose inserts of new and old interviews, small factoids, convention coverage, and his own personal opinions build to what is essentially a love letter to drama. It isn't always a discreet chronicle of the series, but it does help to better understand why the shows were created the way they were. Sometimes small goofs ended up changing the way we look at the shows.
In closing, this book has a loose consistent historical narrative of the modern TV landscape, but is essentially 12 very fascinating essays on the shows that impact our screens now. While shows before the late 90's are referenced as having significance, the reason that he chose post 90's is because that is when shows changed tonally. There is an evolution, and to hear a veteran who has been writing about TV since 1996 write in graphic detail with the people behind it almost makes it essential reading for anyone wanting to take criticism seriously. At very least, it will make you see the people behind it in a different light and respect the efforts more clearly. As long as you have passion for the medium, there is plenty to enjoy out of this book.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5
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