It’s not easy being a TV series anymore. Why? Because an audience is a fickle mistress. She’ll think you owe her something just because she’s read the book you’re based on. She’ll think she’s smarter than you just because she’s seen The Wire. She’ll think she’s better than you because she’ll say its your job to entertain her, not her job to understand you, and ultimately she’ll think she doesn’t need you because NCIS is on in half an hour.

So why bother? Well because sometimes you might just find the one. The one who will send over 20 tons of nuts to CBS headquarters to keep you on the air for just seven more episodes (Jericho), the one who will pay over $5 million out of their own pocket to see you reach the big screen (Veronica Mars), the one who will form conventions and reunions and follow your universe into comic books, video games and novels long after you’re dead (every single Joss Whedon show) and as seen in the lecture (Morris 2013), the one who will lose their job, blow off their friends and harass complete strangers all in the hope of just seeing one more episode. Every TV series needs their soul mate, their fan-base who will stick with them through thick and thin. The fan-base that will only be disappointed in a misplaced plotline or character arc because they know how much better it can be. They will not turn away or switch off, they will be supportive and hopefully see their baby grow into the behemoth and cultural phenomenon that they know it can be.

What better example to discuss then than HBOs True Blood, the most shamelessly ridiculous show that year after year keeps getting sillier but continues to draw some of HBOs biggest ratings and most loyal fans. I’ve been with the show since it started, and I’m still here six years later on the hook for some of the most ludicrous television I’ve ever seen. So why am I still here? To answer this we have to first ask why I started watching it in the first place. Once upon a time, back in 2008 when I was far too young to be watching it, I tuned into the pilot and witnessed the start of something. I didn’t really know what it was but there was an interesting premise, cool characters, gorgeous cinematography, epic violence and a lot, and I mean a lot of sex. Basically I was hooked. Over the years, I believed it to be suspenseful, surprising and really top-notch TV and week after week for 12 weeks every year I would keep coming back for more. This is the True Blood experience that its fan-base enjoys.

However, watching the episode “I Will Rise Up” this week from Season 2 (cited in Morris 2013), I’ve just now realized how biased this experience is. Out of context and out of sync with the big picture that the season was drawing, I could finally see True Blood for what it really is. I’ve always enjoyed the show with a grain of salt, and as a self-confessed Truebie i’m not blind to its flaws. But when watching an episode at random, and the arc-based narrative goggles are off, oh my god is this show stupid. For a newcomer to the show to watch this episode and to have to follow a plot thread where “Meanwhile across town, Jessica and Hoyt are dealing with the fallout of realizing that as an immortal virgin she has a regenerative hymen” (I mean really? this is quality television?), it must seem like an outlandish piece of trash. As fans, we can simply just forgive and forget (I know I did), and idealise the journey we’ve been on.

True Blood is a heightened experience, everything is over the top and it doesn’t apologize for it. As a fan who’s been watching since the pilot I can still harken back to the interesting premise, the cool characters and the sleek look, and to date it remains the top dog in the “southern gothic-fantasy-horror-romance-comedy-drama” hybrid genre. But the secret to its success I think, doesn’t lie in its separate parts, but in its evolution from interesting premise to outlandish execution without losing anyone along the way.

References:

Morris, B 2013, Week 6 – Matters of Taste, PowerPoint Slides, RMIT University, Melbourne