If I open a book, I go to the end. Systematically. Even if she puts me to sleep faster than Bianca’s monotone on the island of love strain my eyes and my mind to the last page.
It is so. It is anti-Daniel Pennac, which allows the reader to leave any job, at any time. I hang myself, like an apron in the cloakroom of bosses! after a tough elimination. A mix of guilt, stubbornness, and curiosity: I want to know how it will end, good.
Yeah, I could skip right to the last few pages for the end, I thought about that, duh. But upon discovering the epilogue, I would have a billion questions, which would force me to go back in the text and reweave the thread of intrigue. In short, it is easier to suffer for a few hours than to read in a deconstructed way, a term that makes the restaurant of 2004 very chic, where the so-called traditional dishes were eaten in the formula to assemble oneself.
On television, it’s the opposite. If my digital recorder were a nightstand (use your imagination), it would precariously balance a stack of books that were started but never finished. It is so. I start a lot of TV series, which I usually leave after three or four episodes. Deja vu, predictable, no time to waste on that.
In the last few months, I have started the good fight, station eleven, the golden age, Bridgerton Y Tokyo vice without ever completing the cycle. I want to finish them because these series are among the best, but I lack time, patience, and willpower. I see the goal without crossing it.
What, you haven’t seen the end of Breaking off on Apple TV+? No. You don’t know what you’re missing, honey!
Adherents to cheap psychoanalysis will detect repressed separation anxiety here. At the end of a series, it disappears from our imagination and makes us experience a kind of rupture. Can be. Other fans love a show so much that they refuse to watch the ending so that their buzz lasts forever. Possible too. But strange in the meantime.
I often read the punch from a TV series into an article – hello self-disclosure – and I’m no longer interested in putting in seven hours of filler to get there. If a series ends after just one season, red flag, I’m guaranteed to never see the end. Why invest so much energy in a neverending story?
The abundance of good software, scattered across a plethora of different platforms, encourages this spirit of navigation. At the slightest disinterest, soup, we switch partners, like one person on Tinder, swiping more left than right.
Besides, we all know it when we settle in front of a transition series, the television equivalent of the love rebound. The transition series looks at itself by default, waiting for the next love at first sight.
This week, I quickly learned that I would not be watching all ten hour-long episodes of The Lincoln Lawyer (Lincoln’s Defense), the most-watched title on Netflix. Originally, this is the book. the lead verdict by Michael Connelly led to a 2011 film starring Matthew McConaughey as a charismatic lawyer who works from the backseat of a Lincoln brand car. Really.
Note to fans: Detective Harry Bosch appears in Connelly’s book, but not in the Netflix TV series.
Then, The Lincoln Lawyer. It’s good, but not very original. It’s a typical David E. Kelley series in The law Where The practice. Comforting, unpretentious, and conventional. Americans call this TV genre “meat and potatoes”, which perfectly describes The Lincoln Lawyer which takes place under the blinding sun of Los Angeles.
After a surfing accident, wily attorney Mickey Haller (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo) descends into opiate hell and loses all of his clients, along with custody of his daughter.
Coming out of rehab, surprise, Mickey inherits the office of a former colleague, who was murdered in a multi-story parking garage. in the manner of SuitsWith less slime, however, Mickey solves petty cases while leading the super trial of a wealthy video game creator accused of the murder of his wife and her lover.
You also suspect that the multi-story car park murder hides a much bigger story. It doesn’t matter, I’m not going to finish The Lincoln Lawyer. I’ve seen enough to make up my mind. And I deliberately self-revealed the ending.
Do you see? It’s easy to divorce a series with a sense of accomplishment. To impress the gallery, I would quote here, from memory, Schopenhauer who said that life is short and that time and strength are limited.
It would be very hypocritical because I found this quote while googling: “Can we launch a series on the road? »
The answer is yes.
#finish #series #start