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1. Just saw the last episode of Barry or episode 7 - Season 2. And whoa. Talk about a cliff-hanger. Also this show has gotten progressively better with each episode -- in both it's satirical critiques of Hollywood and the screen industry, and our violent toxic male society.

2. I'm still thinking about THIS analysis of various and diverse reactions, critical and fan related to Game of Thrones S8 - Episode 5.

The below statement reminds me a lot of debates I had online in S6 2002 and long after with various fans regarding Willow's Arc in Buffy.

Sometimes, it’s a sign of an artistically challenging work when nobody can quite agree on why a character does a thing. And sometimes it’s just a sign of sloppy writing. (Plus, my example of sloppy writing may be your artistically challenging work — and vice versa.)

This statement, almost word for word was stated during debates I've seen on BSG's final season, Lost's, Buffy S6 and S7, Doctor Who's latest season -- which was controversial and disappointing to DW fans, while some enjoyed it a great deal.

I think this is so true. I told one person who liked the episode far more than I did that it made a great Michael Bay movie. But she disagreed. She saw it as artistically challenging and beautifully rendered, and that the story-arc made sense.

Much of Game of Thrones season eight seems designed, ultimately, to deny us the kinds of closure we might want. That’s an artistically valid choice, and one that could be immensely powerful in the right hands. But its potential impact relies on viewers’ belief that the choice to forgo closure is a deliberate one on the part of the artist, and not one made accidentally via clumsiness.

The need for narrative closure is fascinating. Serials as a general rule don't usually have it -- it goes against the very nature of the serial -- on-going. And if you think about it, we so seldom get it in life. Closure is death, and even then -- it's rare that we get to come to terms with those who have wronged us or those we've wronged, or even figure out what ever happened to so and so. Life is not neat.

Think about mystery novels that are written in a series for a moment. The Dresden Files has yet to be completed. The writer just stopped after the last installment.
To the best of our knowledge, Harry is still out there somewhere wrestling with his demons and solving crimes as the Winter Knight. Or Janet Evanouvich's novels with Stephanie Plum still jumping between her two boyfriends, and solving crimes as a bounty hunter in New Jersey.

A Song of Ice and Fire -- the George RR Martin series in which Thrones is adapted from -- has not reached closure. And it may never do so outside of the television show.

The Sopranoes ended controversially -- with no true closure at all. And anyone who saw the season finals of Angel and Buffy -- can hardly describe that as closure.

Daytime Soap Operas go on for 50 years, if they get cancelled prior, there's seldom narrative closure.

Doctor Who? None at all. If there's never another season -- all we know for certain is he or she is wandering about out there somewhere.

In a way, for fandoms' the lack of closure is a cool thing. It jump starts the creative juices, allows them to write it for themselves without nasty canon getting in the way. The story never ends. Star Trek is an example of canon that didn't really get any true closure until the films, and yet it still keeps continuing. And Star Wars -- while it's arguable that Return of the Jedi provided a sense of closure, it still left it open-ended. And not everyone found it satisfying. Most did not.

Think of the series that were cancelled on a cliff-hanger or ended on one.

* Farscape had a mean cliff-hanger -- so mean, that fans rallied for a movie or something to provide them with a sense of closure. And the writers more or less handed it to them, wrapped in a bow. Leaving just enough of an opening to write fanfic, if they so desired. But to also be satisfied.

* Angel the Series -- ended on a cliff-hanger as well. Which was sort of wrapped up in the comics medium but to the satisfaction of few fans, since the original creators were peripherally involved.

* Firefly got a movie to wrap it up, after fans rallied due to it's non-ending. Not all were satisfied with how the movie played out.

We all want it. We all crave it on some level. While often applauding the choice not to give it.


And crucially, there’s also an entire larger conversation happening that centers on the idea of madness as a trope applied to women, and especially to women who lead. But in the interest of brevity, I’m going to leave most of it to Vulture’s Kathryn VanArendonk, who wrote my very favorite piece on this topic, and to Joanna Robinson at Vanity Fair, who touched on how both the books and the show have handled this idea. Suffice to say, making Game of Thrones a story about how a woman who has long wanted power going a little crazy the closer she gets to it has rubbed many people the wrong way.

This is the sociological/political message that has rubbed a lot of fans the wrong way. It didn't bother me, but then that's not something I tend to react to in art.
But this bit reminds me again of some of the socio-political arguments regarding 10 in Doctor Who, and Willow in Season 6 Buffy. And how these character arcs were handled. Not to mention River Song's arc.

For instance, I tend to side with Slate’s Willa Paskin in thinking the Dany turn is not anti-feminist, but I do sort of think the scene violates the show’s former attempts at psychological realism. Game of Thrones has simply gotten so big that its spectacle overwhelms everything else.

Interesting comment. It nails a lot of the reactions I've seen on Dreamwidth. While everyone agreed that it was a great spectacle, beautifully filmed, the disagreement lay at whether this was something they wanted.

This show used to be about the moments between the spectacle, the moments that made us understand why a character would do what they did, even as their ultimate action proved shocking.

This comes down to how we watch or view works of art, and what we find entertaining.
It also shows a divide between professional critics of art and the viewing public, who often prefers the spectacle.

I would argue we don’t. At some point, Game of Thrones became all about the spectacle, with less and less room for the little moments. Its evolution is not without merit — massive spectacle has an operatic emotionality of its own, and clearly the fact that I’ve written nearly 4,000 words about roughly 60 seconds of television proves something of merit happened in that scene.

But somewhere along the way, Game of Thrones fundamentally stopped being the Game of Thrones many people fell in love with and became something else, something bigger and louder and just a little bit dumber. Its awe-inspiring spectacle made it the biggest show on television, but it also distanced the series from what made it so addictive and engrossing in the first place. The uproar over the final season isn’t a fluke. It was inevitable.


I think the same thing can be said about political elections -- which have increasingly over time become about the spectacle. I remember many commentators on the US 2016 election stating it was less an election about issues or resolving problems, and platforms, and more about personality -- and the cult of celebrity. It was all spectacle. And one could argue Donald Trump's Presidency has largely been just that spectacle. So much is nowadays -- from the reality shows to the award shows, to the Royal Weddings.

Even movies -- you reserve seats weeks sometimes months in advance, watch in 3D or on IMAX, pay about $25, and everyone comes in costumes -- and it's almost more about the spectacle than the story itself. Game of Thrones -- gave away tickets to the premiere showing that were hard to come by and expensive -- and it too was about spectacle.

And most, if not all the positive reviews I've read have noted how beautiful and operatic the spectacle of Game of Thrones was. In fact, non-viewers found these comments to be...inspiring? One of my favorite comments was "that was the most beautifully filmed spectacle of the trashing of a major character that I've ever had the dubious pleasure to watch", and another "it made for a really good Michael Bay film" which of course, if you've ever watched them, is all beautifully rendered spectacle.

Are we slowly morphing into a culture that praises and inadvertently asks for spectacle over substance? And it so, are we repeating the mistakes of the ancient cultures that came before -- the ancient Romans, Greeks, Mespotamians, Egyptians, Hebrews of King David's time, the ancient Mayans, Incans...all fell arguably into the trap of spectacle at all costs.

It's an interesting question that I'm pondering. But don't know the answers to. The above I find sad and depressing and scary, to be honest. And would prefer another answer...than the one I've currently come up with. Perhaps, I'm thinking this view is a tad too myopic? And if we look broader, we see other patterns emerging, far more positive ones...after all a lot of fans despised the use of spectacle over character. And it can be argued that not all spectacle is bad -- take for example the film Avengers: Endgame, which did work on many levels. Or look at the spectacle as a celebration -- such as a wedding.

Life, I don't think, can be broken down so simply. Or art for that matter. Or people. There sometimes aren't any answers, just more questions.

All I know for certain? Is nothing at all.

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