
The latest issue of Time Magazine features an article by James Poniewozik chronicling the week he spent as TV critic with a broken TiVo. The article, entitled “Viewing Outside the Box” grabbed my intention because at the top it asked, “When TV moves from your living room to your laptop and your phone, how does it change? A critic’s look at the big (and little) picture.”
Poniewozik discusses the “posttelevision society:” Netflix online, Hulu, iTunes, etc. Going into the week his questions were “Could I satisfactorily watch TV without a box? How would it change my experience? And more broadly, now that TV (the medium) is divorced from the television (the machine), now that video is as portable as a Grisham paperback, now that big-budget series can be blog-embedded and e-mailed just like your YouTube video of your cat falling asleep – what are we even talking about when we talk about TV?”
“For a good half-century, ‘watching TV’ meant one thing. It was something you did at home, with friends or family, in front of a stationary machine in a dedicated room, preferably with snack chips. You experienced a broadcast exactly when and how millions of others did – same Battime, same Bat-channel – or you did not experience it at al. And unless you got proactive with a VCR, you did not copy, carry or remix what you saw. This was why mass media were culturally unifying (or homogenizing): those moments that mattered, we all saw in exactly the same way.
Poniewozik’s description of how TV used to be is correct and he’s correct in saying it isn’t like that anymore. If I happen to catch an episode of The Office on Thursday night on NBC I know the majority of my friends will either be TiVo-ing it for the next day, watching it on Netflix, watching it on Hulu, or downloading it to their iPods or iPhones for something to do while they wait for the T Friday morning.
Poniewozik, however, believes that his week dedicated to the small screen actually made him more focused and attentive to what he was watching.
"That brings us to a truism about online video: it rewards brevity and scatters attention. That's true to an extent. Five to seven minutes seem to be the sweet spot for a webisode; 'Baby Panda Sneezes' loses its magic after about 11 seconds. But a funny thing happened in my cable-free week: I found myself paying closer attention to the TV shows I watched online. Here's the important physical fact that separates online from off-line TV: you're holding something. Watching old-school TV, you flop on the couch and let the medium wash over you. New school, you hold a screen in your hand, balance a laptop or sit at a desk. There's a small but constant effort, the tiniest bit of physical feedback."
I can't really say whether or not I agree with this statement because although I watch a lot of TV on my laptop, I still watch a lot of TV on my...TV, and I'm always invested if it's a show I like. I'm definitely a "loyal" watcher. I can see, however, how this theory makes sense. Poniewozik goes so far as to say that watching TV on a smaller screen is similar to reading a book.
"I apologize to all the English teachers to whom I have just given aneurysms. But the watching-as-reading analogy is true in more ways than one. Whereas channel-surfing is like turning on a faucet, finding a show online is more like rummaging through a new-and-used bookstore, where House is shelved next to Hill Street Blues. Like reading, viewing online TV is more solitary. You don't gather the family around your MacBook to watch the Super Bowl."
My roommate can attest to this as whenever I put my headphones on to watch something on my computer I hear a loud SIGH followed by "Why do you have to do that, I get bored because it's like you're not here. Can't we watch something together?"
Poniewozik thinks there are some things that are suitable for one kind of screen, and some things that are suitable for others:
"We'll have tiny screens and giant screens: online devices and ever cheaper flat-screen video walls. To me, lush cinematic shows like Big Love and Mad Men need a big canvas; for others, it's football that demands the real estate. Some shows are more interchangeable. I was not surprised to find that MTV's The Hills, with its sleek visuals and forgettable dialogue, is perfectly suited to the bauble-like screen of the iPhone. So some shows will be big and grand for the giant screen. Other shows, like Comedy Central's on- and off-line hits, will thrive on both platforms. Producers will start conceiving series both as whole entities and repurposable parts--like the Jan. 31 SNL skit involving Pepsi that ran the next night as a Super Bowl ad for Pepsi."
I agree, there's no way you'll ever catch me watching Lost on my iPod - not even the second time around.
