How Do Netflix’s Production Practices Allow for Complex Storytelling?
An Analysis of House of Cards
Tim Fennis
Supervisor: Dr. S.M. Dasgupta Second Reader: Dr. J.W. Kooijman
Television- and Cross Media Culture, MA Thesis University of Amsterdam, 24 June 2016
Table of Contents
1. General Introduction 2
1.1 Aim and Research Question 3
2. Theoretical Background 5
2.1 Approach to Complex TV: Poetics 5
2.2 Complexity 6
2.2.1 Definition 6
2.2.2 The Operational Aesthetic 7
2.2.3 History of Complexity 9
2.2.4 HBO 11
2.2.5 Quality Constraints 12
2.3 Netflix and the Television Spectrum 13
3. Netflix’s Production Practices 17
3.1 Sources 17
3.2.1 Pre-production 18
3.2.2 Netflix Offers Creative Control 19
3.2.3 Netflix Refrains from Interference 19
3.2.4 Netflix’s Two Season Commitment 21
3.2.5 Writing 22
3.2.6 Deep Subject Matter 22
3.2.7 Character Development 23
3.2.8 Unexpected 23
3.2.9 Production Method 24
3.3. Motive 24
4. Narrative Complexity 26
4.1. Beats, Acts, and Arcs 26
4.1.1 Beats 26 4.1.2 Acts 28 4.1.2 Arcs 28 4.2 Seriality 32 4.3. Chekhov’s Gun 34 4.4. Curiosity Hypotheses 35 4.5. Comprehension 37 4.6. Visual Style 39 5. Conclusion 41 5.1 Findings 41 5.1 Further Research 43 Works Cited 44
Appendix A: Character Plot Lines 49
Appendix B: Grid Analysis of Beats and Acts 50
1. General Introduction
One of the main characteristics of television is that it is a medium that is always in transition. Throughout its lifespan, which started with the first broadcasts in the 1920s, television has changed. The medium as we know it today is hardly the same as it was when it was first introduced to the public. The average viewer might argue that television has remained essentially the same the past eighty years: staring at a screen that beams television content. But when examining the phenomenon that is called television, one will find that television is almost always in a state of change. To underline this point one could try to give a definition of television, which is harder than it seems. Television contains a lot of different aspects; you can look at the medium itself and analyze its form and cultural meaning, or focus on television texts such as programs, genres and narratives. Another way of examining television is looking at the use of television by its viewers. In sum, television is a versatile field of study.
Perhaps scholar William Uricchio provided one of the most comprehensive descriptions: to consider television as a bundle of technologies, institutions, texts and practices (Uricchio). Yet even this description is rather vague, invoking television’s unstable nature. For instance, one might look at how the images on the screen are actually delivered into the living room. Traditionally, signals were distributed to the television set via three different distribution methods: terrestrial broadcasting, cable, or satellite. In the last decade however, there has been a strong rise in the widespread availability of broadband internet. As a result, new types of distributors have entered the scene that require only an internet connection to broadcast content, such as Netflix, HBO Now, Amazon Prime and Hulu Plus. Furthermore, television is not watched on a television set anymore; laptops, tablets and even mobile phones constitute contemporary ‘television’.
Out of these online video on demand services, Netflix is by far the most popular with over 81 million subscribers (IR Netflix 2016). Runners up Amazon Prime and Hulu Plus do not publicize up-to-date subscriber counts, but Nielsen’s last audience report in which these numbers were disclosed details a thirteen percent and six-and-a-half percent market share respectively, while Netflix dominates with 36 percent (Turril). These numbers represent a changing television landscape, as they indicate a shift from content viewed through cable subscription services to internet-only streaming services.
These changes most significantly impact its distribution practices, but the evolution also has implications for the production and reception of television. Netflix decided to venture in original programming when they announced House of Cards (2013-present) in 2012. Since its inception the series has been inextricably connected to Netflix as a distribution service. It is Netflix’s flagship program and when the first season was released, Netflix’s key personnel
and the creative forces behind the series were vocal about House of Cards’ supposed unique position in relation to contemporary television. In an effort to create publicity for the series, significant claims were made regarding its production practices, Netflix’ss distribution pattern, and viewer reception prognoses; House of Cards would supposedly be a game changer (Brock, Elia, Hass, Jurgensen, Kornhaber).
From a scientific perspective it is worth examining these claims and to analyze due to which characteristics House of Cards was deemed a game changer. Only after scientific research the significance of these characteristics can be evaluated in order to determine if, or how it impacts the contemporary television discourse. Because Netflix is a relative new service and its first original program House of Cards can already be considered critically very successful (IMDB House of Cards), its significance can easily be overstated. In order to make any claims about Netflix’s relation to the success of its series, the potential causes for the success need to be investigated. As a result, House of Cards’ production process could act as a positive example for producers to make quality television drama.
Furthermore, whether or not Netflix does have any impact on the television landscape might not become clear immediately, since a ‘game changing’ service as Netflix could potentially exist alongside current production practices and forms of television. However, its presence should be scrutinized in order to make any comments about its significance.
1.1 Aim and Research Question
This thesis aims to answer how Netflix’s production processes allow for complex storytelling. It does so through a case study of Netflix’s first original series House of Cards. An analysis of second hand resources uncovers the series’ production practices, and consequently explains how these practices allow for artistic control. Subsequently evidence from a textual analysis of the first two seasons is used to explore how these production practices and the associated artistic control result in complex storytelling.
Before examining this case study, it is important to understand the concept of ‘complex television’. To that effect, the second chapter provides a theoretical background. First, a brief explanation of Mittell’s approach of poetics1 is given, which is the same concept utilized in this thesis. Subsequently, the history and theory regarding complexity are outlined and discussed. The third section presents an overview of the television landscape, detailing the shift from network, to cable, to digital, and exploring how Netflix’s evolvement relates to these different periods.
1
Poetics stems from Aristotle’s work Poetics (335 BC). In it, Aristotle offers an account of what he calls "poetry" (a term which in Greek literally means "making"). In literary criticism poetics focuses onunderstanding how a text's different elements come together and produce certain effects on the reader. This model has emerged within media studies, and subsequently focuses on the question “how does this text work?” (Wikipedia; Mittell 4-5).
Chapter three presents the findings of literary analysis, detailing the production practices imposed by Netflix on House of Cards’. Furthermore the chapter explains how these production practices enable artistic control for the series’ creators. These practices were uncovered through an analysis of second hand sources, which consist of business press and trade journals. Firstly, the issue of legitimacy regarding these sources is touched upon. Secondly, the production practices are categorically presented and discussed on the basis of three facets of production: pre-production, writing, and production method. The chapter scrutinizes the way in which these practices differ from that of conventional television series, as well as how these specific production practices enable the creators of House of Cards to exercise artistic control. Finally, a possible motive for Netflix’s imposed production practices is phrased.
Chapter four: ‘Complex storytelling in House of Cards’ examines how these production practices affect complex television. Mittell’s framework of poetics of contemporary television storytelling, as discussed in chapter two, is used to uncover storytelling strategies that can be considered complex.
The final chapter formulates an answer to the research question at the heart of this thesis, and provides a summary of the research. It also presents suggestions for further research.
2. Theoretical Background
This chapter can be divided into three sections. The first section explains Mittell’s approach of poetics, and the second section outlines and discusses the definition, theory and history of complexity. Finally, the third section presents an overview of the television landscape detailing the shift from network, to cable, to digital, and discussing how Netflix’s position relates to this periodicalization.
2.1 Approach to Complex Television: Poetics
In this thesis cultural texts are analyzed using Mittell’s approach of poetics, which is characterized by a mode of cultural circulation, “in which practices of the television industry, audiences, critics, and creators all work to shape storytelling practices, and thus questions about form are not restricted to the realm of the text, but deeply connected to contexts” (5). Mittell’s approach is influenced by scholars in three crucial ways: David Bordwell’s concept of historical poetics, cognitive poetics, and Robert Allen’s notion of reader-oriented poetics (4-6).
Historical poetics provide a contextual anchor for studying narrative form, because “historical poetics situates formal developments within specific historical contexts of production, circulation, and reception, where innovations in media form are not viewed as creative breakthroughs of visionary artists, but at the nexus of a number of historical forces that work to transform the norms established with any creative practice” (5). Accordingly, in order to understand how complex television works in House of Cards, its development needs to be contextualized within technological, industrial and reception shifts (6).
Furthermore, in order to understand how viewers engage with television series, the model of cognitive poetics is essential. Mittell explains: “According to this model, viewing (or reading of literature) is understood by drawing upon our knowledge of cognition and perception, and then positing how the formal elements in a text might be experienced by such a viewer—while viewers are not reduced to their mental mechanics, the insights of cognitive science informs how we imagine the possible ways that viewers engage with film or television” (6). When considering questions of comprehension of narratives and memory when watching serial television, a cognitive approach is essential to understand how viewers engage with content (6).
Finally, in studying viewing practices by fans that posit their findings on websites and fan-wikis Mittell draws inspiration for the notion of reader-oriented poetics. However, this will be of limited use in this thesis, since viewer activity will not be discussed.
2.2 Complexity
The research question of this thesis revolves around complexity. It is therefore critical to first, define and demarcate this term—complexity is a rather problematic term as it has different meanings depending on the context it is used in (the term is very closely linked to the notion of quality television, and these two terms are even used interchangeably by scholars); second, to distinguish different modes of complexity; and third, to illustrate the causes for the emergence complexity.
2.2.1 Definition
Mittell’s definition of complexity is a mode of television storytelling that has emerged because of shifts in three areas. He argues that the last fifteen years have seen significant changes in expectations of how viewers watch television, how producers create stories, and how series are distributed (Mittell 2-3). These shifts constitute a new television storytelling mode, which Mittell calls Complex Television.
Within this broader term of complex television sits the model of storytelling, which Mittell calls narrative complexity. “This model has emerged as a new paradigm of television storytelling over the past twenty years as an alternative to the conventional episodic and serial2 forms that have typified most American television since its inception” (Mittell 17). For example, instead of being strictly episodic or serial, series tend to employ a hybrid form that emphasizes continuing plot. “It redefines the boundary between episodic and serial forms, with a heightened degree of self-consciousness in storytelling mechanics, and demands intensified viewer engagement focused on both diegetic pleasures and formal awareness” (Mittell 53). In other words, the viewer is expected to be more active and attentive to comprehend this hybrid form of storytelling, because producers apply different innovative narrative devices in these series (for example jumbled chronology). Viewers then document and debate their discoveries about the series on discussion websites dedicated to these series (Mittell 3).
To illustrate, different sort of series possess elements of complex narrativity, from comedies such as Seinfeld (1989-1998) and How I Met Your Mother (2005-2014), to science fiction and dramas like Lost (2004-2012) and The X-Files (1993-2002). Cable network HBO is arguably most known for their narrative complex series like The Sopranos (1999-2007), The Wire (2002-2008), Six Feet Under (2001-2005) and more recently Game of Thrones (2011-present), as they have employed specific branding strategies around complex series (which will be elaborated later in this chapter). Recently, other cable channels such as
2
Episodic storytelling is characterized by a format in which problems that arise at the beginning of an episode are all solved at the end, and therefore provide closure to the viewer. In serialized storytelling the narrative picks up where it left off last episode, often after a cliffhanger, providing possibilities for long continuous narratives .Showtime (Dexter (2006-2013), Homeland (2011-present)) and AMC (Mad Men (2007-2015), Breaking Bad (2008-2013)) have also invested in narrative complex series (Mittell 17). The diversity of these series signifies that complex television is not merely a genre, “but a storytelling mode and set of associated production and reception practices that span a wide range of programs across an array of genres. It is a site of tremendous genre mixing, where conventions and assumptions from a range of programming categories come together and are interwoven, merged and reformed” (Mittell 233).
Narrative complexity stands out in its blending of conventions of episodic and serial form. More specifically, it is “an interplay between the demands of episodic and serial storytelling, often oscillating between long-term arcs and stand-alone episodes” (Mittell 19). Both modes have their unique constraints and revenues, and narrative complexity operates in the tense field in between. It needs to balance the competing demands and pleasures of episodic and serials norms (Mittell 19). However, this does not mean narrative complexity can be defined as prime time episodic seriality: “within the broader mode of complexity, many programs actively work against serial norms but also embrace narrative strategies to rebel against episodic conventionality” (Mittell 20). Seriality should not be regarded as just a marker of continuity (such as the never ending openness of traditional soap opera episodes) but rather as a multifaceted variable that can spring a range of storytelling possibilities (Mittell 22).
In short, a narrative complexity is a narrative mode “that operates within various options of locating events, time, characters, and story worlds within the spectrum between contained episodes and ongoing seriality” (Mittell 30). Complexity is signified by unconventionality, which might be considered as complex television’s most significant feature. A realm in which unconventional devices can be categorized in the operational aesthetic.
2.2.2 The Operational Aesthetic
The term operational aesthetics stems from Neil Harris’s accounts of P.T. Barnum; an American showman who in the nineteenth century travelled the country with his circus and museums, portraying curiosities, hoaxes and stunts to the public. The mystery regarding the success of his shows was why the public was naive to deception, and why it could yield so much pleasure in experiencing deception, even after it knew it was fooled (Harris 67-69). The answer lies in the public’s delight in learning and looking for clues that would explain how the hoaxes worked: “to discover how deception had been practiced, was even more exciting than the discovery of fraud itself” (Harris 77). Thus the pleasure was derived from pondering the operational aesthetic.
In complex television the concept of operational aesthetics works in much the same way, argues Mittell: when considering a complex comedy series with multiple plotlines, rather than conventional television’s main A and B plot, viewers revel in the series creators’ ability to employ complex plot structures. He compares Barnum’s mechanical apparatus consisting of gears, levers and pulleys to the writer's ability to structure plotlines into a carefully calibrated narrative machine (42-43). While the viewer enjoys the narrative in a rather conventional way, on a deeper, reflexive level it can be satisfying for the viewer to find out how the complex narrative mechanics work.
A specific mode of the operational aesthetic is what Mittell calls the special effect. This can work on two levels. First, spectacular moments in complex television series make the viewer aware of the operational aesthetic through special effects. Here, the narrative makes place for the visual, harking back to the cinema of attraction in its early days (Mittell 43). However, visual spectacular moments are rare in complex television series (although contemporary series like Terra Nova (2011), Boardwalk Empire (2010-2014) and Game of Thrones demonstrate numerous scenes with special and visual effects, blurring the historical separation between visually-focused cinema and narrative-driven television (Heusser; Wikipedia).
The second level in which the operational aesthetic becomes visible is through the narrative special effect, or narrative spectacle. Mittell describes this phenomenon as a series flexing its storytelling muscles to amaze the viewer, as it pushes the operational aesthetic to the foreground to which the viewer marvels and asks themselves: “How did the writers do that?” (43-44). An example of this is Breaking Bad’s use of the cold opener (or teaser) in each season. A short flashforward scene is shown in the beginning of the first episode, which suggests where the show in that season is going, or provides a major theme for that season. In the last season however (season five), this technique is used to offset the viewer, because it gave no real indication to what was to happen, and merely showed a transformed protagonist. The flashforward made suggestions about the character’s fight against cancer— his grown-back facial hair indicated he beat cancer—contradicting the show’s premise that he would die of cancer, and therefore had become involved in criminal activity to provide for his family. This scene only makes sense when fastforwarding sixteen episodes, as at that point the complex narrative mechanics are made clear to the viewer.
However, techniques such as the flashforward or cold opener employed in Breaking Bad, alterations in chronology, dream or fantasy sequences, or retelling the same story from different perspectives are all devices that can be found in conventional television (Mittell 49). These devices alone do not make a program complex, but the way in which they are implemented does. Non-complex series tend to announce these devices beforehand in order to avoid confusing the viewer. On the other hand, complex television is not afraid to daunt
the viewer; “these variations in storytelling strategies are more commonplace and signaled with much more subtlety or delay” (Mittell 49). In complex television, it is up to the viewers themselves to recognize and figure out the implications of the narrative spectacle they witness.
In conclusion: “Through the operational aesthetic, these complex narratives invite viewers to engage at the level of formal analyst, dissecting the techniques used to convey spectacular displays of storytelling craft; this mode of formally-aware viewing is highly encouraged by these programs, as their pleasures are embedded in a level of awareness that transcends the traditional focus on diegetic action typical of most mainstream popular narratives” (Mittell 46-47).
2.2.3 History of Complexity
When tracking the beginnings of complex television, it is important to first address the terminology. In this thesis, House of Cards will be analyzed through Mittell’s framework of narrative complexity. Mittell’s own narrative complex analyses predominantly concern series that are contemporary complex. His observations declare complex television predominantly a phenomenon that has been taking place in the last fifteen years (2-3). Furthermore, he mentions complex narrative series that go back as far as 1989 (Seinfeld, Twin Peaks (1990-1991)), and argues the mode of narrative complexity is now “sufficiently widespread and popular, we might consider the 1990s to the present the era of complex television” (31). However, some complex television series arguably predate Mittell’s temporal demarcation of complex TV. In the field of television history, these series are not labeled as complex, but more commonly as quality television. Different scholars use these two terms interchangeably.
The first series that can be considered complex was Hill Street Blues (1981–1987). It was the first quality serial drama to be aired on primetime (Kompare 299). Thompson agrees, and names Hill Street Blues as an entirely new standard for television drama, dubbing it the ‘Second Golden Age’ (after the first golden age in the 1959s). With the airing of Hill Street Blues, the formation and subsequent rise of complex television was a result of a number of changes in television industries, technologies and audience behavior.
In the late 1970s the three major networks—ABC, CBS, NBC—could account for 90% of the primetime viewing audience tuning in to one of the stations, whereas in 1989 only 67% of that audience was attuned to one of these networks (Thompson, Second Golden Age 36). During the 1980s pay and basic cable, the remote control device, VCR and independent stations were introduced, which led to the end of network domination since broadcast networks suffered declining viewership (Newman and Levine 26). The initial response by the networks to these declining numbers was to play it safe, churning out shows that were
variations to formats that worked before. Unfortunately, most shows that were introduced in 1981 were cancelled half a season in (Thompson, Second Golden Age 37).
However, it was NBC that tried a different approach with Hill Street Blues. They reasoned that the old-fashioned way of targeting a large audience was becoming increasingly hard due to the increasing amount of choice available to the audience. Instead, NBC executives decided to target smaller audiences, mostly young, upscaled and well-educated viewers, as this was the demographic advertisers would pay the most for (Thompson, Second Golden Age 37-38). They figured these ‘yuppies’ were tired of the conventional television shows and wanted a show that was more sophisticated and cinematic, which would gain viewing numbers based on critical acclaim. As Thompson describes, this move was shockingly uncharacteristic for television executives (38).
Although Hill Street Blues’ first season ratings were dismal, it did manage to rack up a record-breaking eight Emmys. The show was literate and visually complex, cinematic and novelistic (Thompson, Golden Age 15) and its dramatic structure was unusually complex, interweaving a dozen or so major characters and several ongoing plots each week.
NBC renewed it, and gradually a dedicated audience of people who claimed to watch little else on TV took shape (Zoglin and Dutka 89). So the quality gamble paid off, and NBC started more quality shows like St. Elsewhere (1982-1988) and Cheers (1982-1993). After a couple of years NBC rose from third to first in most watched channels amongst the big three. However, at the end of the decade, the most successful shows were still traditional, as sitcoms like Cosby (1984-1992), Family Ties (1982-1989), and Roseanne (1988-1997) became the biggest hits (Thompson, Second Golden Age 45). By 1990, NBC had notably tuned down their quality programming output. According to critically acclaimed producer Andrew Susskind this was because “NBC was caught in real short-term thinking...They’re number one, but their lead is shrinking. I’m not sure they have the confidence they had when they were number three and shooting for number one, which was to give quality shows a chance” (44).
At the beginning of the 1990’s, the perception towards television shifted as it gradually legitimized itself. Television has always been a ‘lesser’ medium than cinema amongst public and critics, much in the same way as theatre is commonly acknowledged as a higher form of art than cinema (Newman and Levine 16-17). Despite this conception, accomplished writers, directors and screenwriters moved from cinema to work on television shows during the 1990s. According to Mittell, the reason for the shift of movie personnel was twofold. First, where the production of film was centered on a director, television had a reputation of being a producer’s medium. This means writers and creators retained greater control over their television work than they would have over their work in film. Secondly, compared to a two-hour film writers were given a bigger canvas to work on with multiple
episodes per season (Mittell 32). Television’s nature of long-form series provided writers with more options and possibilities.
It is hard to pinpoint the exact time this perception shift occurred, but David Lynch’s Twin Peaks might be one of the instigators. As a result of NBC’s rise to the top of most viewed channels, runner-up ABC tried the same ‘quality-route’ NBC elected a decade earlier. According to NBC’s reasoning, ABC felt it needed to do something completely different in order to address the ‘quality demographic’. By teaming up Hill Street Blues writer Mark Frost with feature film director David Lynch, they would combine the proven quality aspect of Hill Street Blues with the legitimate cultural character of cinema. Upon the airing of its pilot in 1990, the series received enormous amounts of press coverage and was hailed as “The series that would change TV” (Newman and Levine 26). Maybe television needed this change, badly. As Thompson argues: “Perhaps after thirty years of virtually the same dramatic formulas, many viewers were simply getting tired of network TV. (...) Television had been on in the average household for over six hours per day throughout the 1970s, and the same old was getting old” (43). Although it is hard to ascertain that this was indeed a reason for audiences to tune in to new sorts of content, it would not be surprising.
2.2.4 HBO
Aside from the earlier mentioned broadcasting channels, a significant player emerged to the scene of complex television halfway through the 1990s. HBO (Home Box Office) might be the most significant force that drove complex television forward. HBO differed fundamentally from conventional network television, in that it was a paid subscription channel. This made them less dependent on advertising revenues, albeit much more concerned with their number of subscribers. Subscribers were collected, as opposed to incidental viewers, by creating a certain brand identity. HBO did this by conveying first-order commodity relations, in contrast to basic cable and free-to-air network television's second-order commodity relations:
The premium cable sector operates according to first-order commodity relation, which Nienhaus defines as 'symbolic object of flows actually exchanged for money or having prices attached' (1993: 309). In other words, unlike the broadcast networks, HBO performs a 'wholesaler function' for cable subscriptions, which then operate as retail outlets that deal directly with cable subscribers. And, (...) first-order relations provide strong incentives for creating 'quality' television programmes - incentives that are not as relevant to the advertising-supported media. (qtd in Reeves, Rogers, and Epstein 86)
In order to create a first-order community relation, HBO differentiated itself from broadcast television by showing premium content, or quality or complex television.
Another reason why HBO is significant when tracing the emergence of complex television, is that HBO tried to very clearly distinguish themselves from the conventional networks. Most notable was their slogan, by which HBO expressed its divergence from broadcast television: It's Not TV, It's HBO. This insinuated a radical difference to 'normal' television content in that HBO was "better, more sophisticated, and more artistic than the usual network fare" (Reeves, Rogers, and Epstein 83). HBO stood apart from the rest in that there certainly was a difference in quality between their content and broadcast television. Since HBO did not depend on advertising or sponsors, it could experiment with content: it did not really matter if a single program or series failed or succeeded, as long as there was something to watch for the subscriber in its roster of programs (Santo 24; Kelso 48-50). In a way, as Kelso describes, their position as the 'other' forced them to take risks in programming as there was plenty of 'normal' content to be viewed on hundreds of commercial television channels. This resulted in shows that allowed for slowly developing plots, and deep, rich stories where the viewer had to invest in, such as The Wire (2002-2008), Six Feet Under (2001-2005) and The Sopranos (1999-2007).
2.2.5 Quality Constraints
Whereas the abovementioned developments are mostly causes for quality, the question remains why this did not happen earlier. It is remarkable that the ‘invention’ of quality television coincided with a drop in viewing audiences of conventional programming. In this sense, quality television is merely accidently invented, as everything else was failing.
However, the nature of American television history is to only make changes when there is absolutely no other way out. This is largely due to classic economic behaviorism. “The commercial television industry in the United States has historically avoided risks in search of economic stability, embracing a strategy of imitation and formula that often results in a model of least objectionable content” (Mittell 32). This philosophy, courtesy of the 1977-79 NBC vice-president of programming Paul Klein, is based on the idea that people do not pick what they want to watch, but rather what they least-not-want to watch. As the audience could be divided up in roughly three parts, each network needed to get their ‘32% share’. Instead of attracting audiences with original or controversial programming, Klein figured all it needed to do was to make sure one third of the public would reject the competitors’ content and land on NBC: “We exist with a known television audience and all a show has to be is least objectionable among a segment of the audience (...) Thought, that’s tune-out, education, tune-out. Melodrama’s good, you know, a little tear here and there, a little morality tale, that’s good. Positive. That’s least objectionable” (Thompson, Second Golden Age 39).
According to Klein’s theory, television needed to be as easily digestible as possible, in order to safely provide economic stability.
Furthermore, episodic closure and limited continuity instead of seriality was prioritized, because of its syndication possibilities. As the television industry’s cash cow, reruns demanded to be readily aired in any order, so continuing storylines were deemed costly since they could not be sold to the lucrative syndication aftermarket (Mittell 32). The only serial narratives to be found were mostly in strict genre shows as the daytime soap opera.
Besides the industrial practices that were in place which restricted serialized and complex storytelling, the medium’s mechanisms of storytelling provide some notable constraints on how stories can be told, which are, more or less, still in place today. First of all, television has a highly restrictive structured delivery system (Mittell 33). This means episodes and seasons must conform to set parameters, such as prescribed episode length and commercial breaks. Producers do not have complete control when episodes will be aired, in what order, and how long breaks are in between episodes, as this is in the hands of the networks. Furthermore, the viewing and producing of television series is simultaneous, which often makes for unexpected changes in the midst of the producing process. Adjustments can be made as a result of “casting constraints, as in an actor’s pregnancy, illness, or death, or feedback from networks, sponsors or audience in reaction to an emerging storyline”, as Mittell sums up (33). Finally, in American commercial television, a series is deemed a success only as long as it keeps going, which is why most successful television series typically lack an ending. This logic makes for a significant constraint for storytellers, who are encouraged to create narrative worlds with recyclable characters and interchangeable situations, which can be sustained indefinitely, rather than closed narrative plans created for a specific run (33).
2.3 Netflix and the Television Spectrum
Now that the concept of complex television is defined and historicized, the position of Netflix within the broader television spectrum must be delineated. Netflix (in its recent form as an over the top service provider) is still a relatively new television service. As briefly described in chapter one, it claims to break with the status quo in terms of producing and broadcasting television content. A historic overview of the American television landscape will be provided, in order to contextualize Netflix’s contemporary position.
The American television landscape can be roughly divided into three periods: TVI, TVII, and TVII. These distinctive eras, coined by Rogers, Epstein, and Reeves (although Behrens coined TVI and TVII in 1986) can be considered results of major economic and
technological transformations in the television industry as well as the larger American economy (41). Media scholar Roberta Pearson summarizes them as follows:
The distinctions among TVI, TVII, and TVIII rest broadly on notions of channel scarcity versus channel abundance and of broadcasting to a mass audience versus narrowcasting to niche audiences. In the United States, TVI, dating from the mid-1950s to the early 1980s, is the era of channel scarcity, the mass audience, and three-network hegemony. TVII, dating from roughly the early 1980s to the late 1990s, is the era of channel/network expansion, quality television, and network branding strategies. TVIII, dating from the late 1990s to the present, is the era of proliferating digital distribution platforms, further audience fragmentation, and a shift from second-order to first-second-order commodity relations (107).
During these three eras, transformations can be categorized as follows: technology, creation, distribution, advertising and audience measurement. What follows is a brief account of the developments and changes during these eras.
In the era of TVI, which Amanda Lotz calls the network era, conventions of industrial practices and modes of organization were established (9). The television set (and in some cases the antenna) was the technology available to the viewer and there was choice of only three networks: ABC, CBS and NBC. These networks were run by corporate figureheads, which portrayed the networks’ vision and identity and structured hierarchically with multiple management layers (9). Since there were only three networks to sell to, television content producers and studios had little power and were compelled to abide by practices set by the networks, which essentially meant minimal risk in content and limited rewards (10). Economic support came through thirty second commercials embedded at regular intervals, which provided revenue for the networks, a practice still in place today (10). Television in the network era was characterized by uniform programming, uncorrelated with programming and universal availability (Webster 201). Consequently, network programmers opted for the least objectionable programming, because they knew the whole family watched television together and thus designed a schedule acceptable to the widest range of viewers (Lotz 11).
Where TVI can be regarded as a rather static period, TVII, or in Lotz’s words the multi-channel transition, is signified by change:
New technologies including the remote control, video-cassette recorder, and analog cable systems expanded viewers’ choice and control; producers adjusted to government regulations that forced the networks to relinquish some of their control over the terms of program creation; nascent cable channels and new broadcast
networks added to viewers’ content choices and eroded the dominance of ABC, CBS, and NBC; subscription channels launched and introduced an advertising-free form of television programming; and methods for measuring audiences grew increasingly sophisticated with the deployment of Nielsen’s People Meter (Lotz 12).
From this range of changes, the most significant to this thesis is the emergence of many new networks and channels in this era, because this impacted the competitive dynamics of the industry and the type of programming to be produced (Lotz 14). This resulted in program development specifically catered to smaller audiences, instead of having to adhere to (or least objected by) the biggest audience as possible. This targeting of niche audiences seemed economically viable and resulted in different productions. Cable channels started producing what Lotz calls ‘broadcast quality’: series with themes and content unlikely to be found on broadcast networks (15). As discussed earlier, HBO is arguably the most significant example of this development.
TVIII, as described by Rogers et al. starts around the late 1990’s, and shares the fundamental characterization described by Lotz’s demarcation of the post-network era. In terms of viewing experience, viewers now have greater control over when and where to view television content, as well as a greater choice of what to choose from. Although signified as post-network by Lotz, this era does not “suggest the end or irrelevance of networks—just the erosion of their control over how and when viewers watch particular programs. In the early years of the post-network era, networks and channels remained important sites of program aggregation, operating with distinctive identities that help viewers find content of interest” (15). However, the emerging of digital distribution methods has instigated an abundance of channels, rather than programs. Specific channels have been comprised to target niche audiences. Even more so, television content broadcasted on the internet has been targeted to such small viewers, we could term this as splintercasting. Another significant shift that characterizes this era can be found in advertising strategies. Branding, such as product placement and integration has become a viable model that co-exists with the decreasingly dominant thirty-second advertisement (Lotz 16). Furthermore, modern technologies in audience metrics have allowed for new ways to engage audiences with content. Instead of just measuring and aggregating data through services, Netflix made it possible to make precise recommendations to viewers for what to watch next.
Beyond the demarcation made by Lotz, Pearson, and Rogers et al, some argue Netflix has instigated a new era of television. Mareike Jenner argues that Netflix’s move to producer, distributor and exhibitor of its own content signals a unique position significant enough to allow for a terminology of TVIV (269):
Increasingly complex narrative structures demand our attention in a way scheduled television rarely can. In this sense, Netflix may be viewed as part of a television matrix, but, apart from offering serialised content, it signals a further move away from what is still understood as television. A key aspect here is Netflix’s independence from branding infrastructures that link television with online media. Instead, orienting itself more towards much more prolific online-based companies like Amazon or Google, Netflix builds its own brand, a premium online channel independent from more ‘traditional’ forms of channel branding in network and cable television with even smaller ‘niche’ audiences with the autonomy to build their own schedule. (...) The shift signaled by Netflix concerns issues of technology, but maybe more importantly, branding and programming strategies, viewing practices independent from scheduling that lead to a complication in how audience behaviour needs to be understood and ‘success’ of a programme measured, and how familiar associations with the concept of television are not ‘merely’ subverted, but changed completely. In a matrix media and (potentially) TVIV landscape, this does not eliminate existing and familiar concepts of what ‘television’ is, but it extends them significantly and introduces a range of other media forms and discourses to this matrix (Jenner 269-270).
As Jennifer pointed out she sees Netflix as part of a television matrix era: “the matrix era is characterized by interactive exchanges, multiple sites of productivity and diverse modes of interpretation and use” (Curtin 13). This term acknowledges the increasing complexity of television, and “it moves beyond a periodization of television that proves to be quite limiting when discussing shifts in such a complex media landscape” (Jenner 260). This thesis will focus predominantly on Netflix’s production practices and its produced texts (House of Cards). In the further research section Jenner’s arguments about Netflix as an instigator of the TVIV era will be revisited.
3. Netflix’s Production Practices
This chapter presents House of Cards’ production practices imposed by Netflix and discusses how these practices enable artistic control for its producers. These practices were uncovered through an analysis of second hand sources, which consist of seventeen business press and trade journals. The first section of this chapter touches upon the legitimacy of these sources. Subsequent sections categorically present and scrutinize Netflix’s production practices the basis of three facets of production: pre-production, writing, and production method. In particular, analysis will discuss the way in which these production practices differ from that of conventional television series, and explore the ways in which these specific production practices allow for artistic control for the creators of House of Cards. The final section of this chapter formulates a possible motive for Netflix’s imposed production practices.
3.1. Sources
The material that is analyzed consists of second hand sources; mostly interviews in trade journals and business press. These sources of information were preferenced over an attempt to gain first hand access, since the latter was found to be unfeasible. Neither the personal contacts nor the time or financial resources required in order to gather information from any member of House of Cards staff, who are mostly based in Los Angeles, were available. Instead, as much relevant material was gathered as possible. Since House of Cards was the first original series to appear on Netflix there was a lot attention from the press (so-called ‘buzz’) increased the availability of sources. Furthermore, Netflix has been rather generous in disclosing information about Netflix and House of Cards by granting press interviews from top-level creative staff.
These second hand sources may bring about potential pitfalls and limitations. As Wilkinson and Merle point out, the greater ease of access to information researchers enjoy in the current information age, does not automatically translate into increased credibility of this information (427). In this case Netflix would try to control press surrounding their service and programming as much as possible, in order to shroud their product in positive buzz. In the same vein, journalists and press outlets are likely to be keen to get first hand access in the form of exclusive interviews. If granted, one would not expect them to ask very critical questions.
However, utilizing trade publications as a legitimate source of information is not uncommon in the academic world. Television scholar Amanda Lotz did exactly this when writing her influential book The Television Will Be Revolutionized: “I read trade publications (...) for years before establishing my own theories of industry operations and identifying key
industry players, issues, and events. These trade publications also functioned as a data source—primarily in the form of quotations from top industry executives who I might not reasonably expect to interview” (34). Furthermore, House of Cards is a relatively new phenomenon. As academic articles usually take a while before they are published, trade publications are often the only source of information that is up-to-date on the latest developments.
3.2.1 Pre-production
The series started to come together when Media Rights Capital, the film and television studio that owned the rights for a remake3 of House of Cards, approached cinema director David Fincher in 2008. Fincher expressed interested in making a series for television with his partners Josh Donen and Eric Roth, whom he worked with on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008). He liked the original British series, and was interested in television as it allowed for complex, deep, layered characterizations that could be revealed slowly, which is not possible in cinema as due to its time restrictive nature. “I felt for the past ten years that the best writing that was happening for actors was happening in television. And so I had been looking to do something that was longer form” (Sepinwall with Fincher 2013). They needed someone to adequately translate the story to Washington, and Fincher and his partners turned to Beau Willimon. Although Willimon did not have a proven track record in television, they were impressed by his play Farragut North (which later became the Oscar nominated screenplay for The Ides of March (2011)). But foremost, he had worked on three Democratic presidential campaigns, which gave him plenty of knowledge about the workings on Capitol Hill.
While it is officially a remake, Willimon views his work as a reinvention of the original. He wanted to be sure that he could write the series on his own terms from the onset, while using big story points from the original (Pierce). Willimon presented them with a script about a year later, which meant they could start casting actors.
They approached Kevin Spacey for the lead, and although he was interested, he could not commit to the project for another year due to conflicting schedules (Sepinwall 2013). Instead of choosing to look for other possible candidates, Fincher opted to wait a year for Spacey to be available while he attached Robin Wright to the project. With the lead actors confirmed the creators pitched their show to HBO, Showtime and AMC. However, it was Netflix who offered terms that were unheard of in the television industry. Wanting to get into
3
The original House of Cards (1990) is a British television mini-series written by Andrew Davies that consists of four episodes, based on a novel from Michael Dobbs. The serial revolves around Francis Urquhart, a fictional Chief Whip of the Conservative Party, played by Ian Richardson. The plot follows his amoral and manipulative scheme to become leader of the governing party and, thus, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom (Wikipedia).original programming, Netflix was willing to offer the producers complete creative control and could guarantee two seasons upfront (Pierce).
Regarding House of Cards’ pre-production phase as described above, there are three significant points to examine: first, Netflix’s hands off approach in terms of creative control; second, Netflix’s two season commitment; and third, Netflix’s lack of interference with regards to cast and crew. These are production practices imposed by Netflix that are unconventional in television production. These practices were described by Willimon as “too good to be true”, and were the reason why the production chose Netflix as its home (Pierce).
3.2.2 Netflix Offers Creative Control
Netflix’s statement of offering ‘essentially complete creative control’ demands scrutinization, because it does not explain what this means in terms of production practices. Out of all the material that was gathered the aspect of artistic control is never mentioned in detail, or brought up in relation to any production practice. The most comprehensive quotes found were from Willimon stating: “‘We [Netflix] place our faith in you. We believe in you as artists, and we want you to make the show you want to make’. And while we were always in communication with Netflix and always kept them in the loop, we never had anyone breathing down our neck” (Ryan). And in another interview: “I can say that for us we had as close to complete creative control as I think you can possibly get. Netflix was there at the table reads. And they certainly had scripts available to them and looked at the dailies and all that. But they never once came at us with some sort of suggestion as to work” (Sepinwall with Willimon). While Willimon makes it clear that Netflix gave them control creatively, this becomes meaningful only in relation to particular aspects of production. On creative control will be reflected when the different stages of production are discussed in this chapter: pre-production, writing, and the method of production.
3.2.3 Netflix Refrains from Interference
In television series the most important individual is the showrunner. He is in charge of a variety of tasks in pre-production, production and post-production. Its most important job is to deliver quality scripts in time. This is directly related to the overall quality of a show, as when a showrunner falls behind in writing and is unable to catch up, not only does the quality of writing suffer, but also the acting, directing and post-production (Writers Guild of America 41). Therefore, the network and studio are prone to hire veteran writers, with proven credentials in showrunning, since they are most likely to produce quality television. From a financier's perspective it is uncommon to refrain from using its power to control what staff are involved in a project.
House of Cards’s showrunner Willimon had no credentials in television work whatsoever. Furthermore, Willimon chose his writers not on the basis of proven track records either, but looked for risk-takers, writers that could surprise him (Pierce). Netflix could therefore have considered it a risk to invest in the project, since there was little guarantee on the quality of the final series. Surprisingly, however, Netflix did not interfere.
Instead of appointing a showrunner and writers the traditional way as described above, Netflix’s practice was to believe in Willimon et al. as artists, wanting them “to make the show you want to make” (Ryan). To give a showrunner this amount of artistic freedom without interference from the network is not a regular occurrence. Even more so when taking into account that the rest of the key staff did not have much television work on their resume either; Fincher is a cinema director who had never done television before and Kevin Spacey last acted in a television production twenty-five years ago.
In sum, Netflix’s ‘belief’ in the producers was not based on their credentials. Instead, Netflix had access to a pool of metadata, which allowed them to predict that House of Cards would be safe to invest in. Their numbers indicated there was a large audience who loved Kevin Spacey movies, David Fincher movies, the original House of Cards series, and political thrillers. Sarandos (Netflix’s Chief Content Officer) argued that if these elements were combined into a show, and if it were executed well, audiences would want to see it (Curtin et al 137). Spacey and Fincher were arguably a safe bet, as they had the credentials to back up their status. Prior to House Of Cards, Spacey had already been a successful film and stage actor since the early nineties and had since won several Academy Awards, Screen Actor Guild Awards, BAFTA’S and Tony’s (IMDB Spacey). Likewise, Fincher had also been critically and commercially successful: he has been nominated for three Academy Awards and has won a Golden Globe (IMDB Fincher). Yet Netflix had no guarantees with regards to its showrunner—Netflix took a leap of faith and put its trust in Fincher, who subsequently chose Willimon to become the showrunner.
However, Netflix’s access to the metadata pools only partly justifies their unconventional hands-off approach. There was by no means any guarantee that this approach would yield the desired effect. In theory, Sarandos’ reasoning could be correct: combining beloved ingredients is likely to turn into a great product. But in this case, these ingredients (Fincher and Spacey) were inexperienced with television work. Furthermore, this practice had never been executed before. Thus, even though Netflix argued their unconventional practice of no interference over cast and crew in House of Cards was justified by metadata, it can still be regarded a risk, considering the amount of money that was invested.
3.2.4 Netflix’s Two Season Commitment
The fact that Netflix provided an upfront commitment of two seasons is very significant in terms of production practice. It meant that the producers of House of Cards did not need to make a pilot, and it allowed the writers to lay out the fundamentals for a two-season story from the beginning.
Traditionally a studio will only guarantee a pilot, which has a big impact on the way a series commences. Writers are pressured to sell the whole series, its actors and the story to audiences and the studio in the first episode, which is by no means beneficial to the story’s quality. Willimon describes the commercial pressure of a pilot as “the blade of the guillotine hanging above you constantly” (Pierce).
Netflix allowed House of Cards to take off with a beginning, instead of a pilot. The distinction between a pilot and a beginning is that a pilot is an artificial construct, which has to adhere to commercial goals determined by the network or studio. A beginning, much like the first chapter of a book, is to initiate the viewer to the series; introduce its characters, setting, tone, and so forth.
An explanation for Netflix’s ‘no pilot policy’ might be found in their decision to release all of House of Cards’ first season episodes instantly. Traditionally, serialized episodes are aired every week. In order to make sure viewers tune back in after the first episode a week later, a strong opener is needed; hence the importance of a pilot. For House of Cards, Netflix eliminated the need for an enthralling opening since viewers were not forced to wait a week before they could continue the story.
The second consequence of Netflix’s two season commitment, is for the writers to be able to create a story that would have a two season span. This is significant, because series are traditionally not written out for a whole season, but only the first two or three episodes. This is because new series rarely get picked up after a pilot is produced (Douglas 67).
Traditionally, the pilot is an indicator for the network if audiences have sufficient interest in a series. If so, either a couple of episodes (a so-called short order) or a full season is ordered. However, when a network decides to order a full season of 22 episodes, in practice they pick up “13 plus the back 9”: After thirteen episodes are aired, a decision is made for the rest of the season based the performances of these episodes (Douglas 67). If this season is successful enough in terms of viewer ratings, a second season is ordered, and so on. However, if a series fails to find an audience after the first initial episodes, it is cancelled. For illustrate, last season between ABC, FOX, and NBC, ten new series did not make a full season, and this season three series have been prematurely cancelled already (Gutelle; Wikipedia).
Netflix, in contrast to traditional networks, claims to be uninterested in ratings for individual shows, and is only concerned with the amount of total subscribers. According to
Sarandos, the industry’s traditional obsession with ratings and its measure of success is detrimental for the creative side of television (Gutelle). A valid point, as history has shown that some critically lauded and financially successful series started out with significantly lower ratings than hoped, such as Breaking Bad and Seinfeld.
According to this logic, Netflix’s strategy of focusing on membership rather than ratings allowed them to implement a production practice of committing to two seasons upfront. As a result, the writers had been given the artistic control to construct a long narrative that spanned two seasons.
3.2.5 Writing
Besides its commitment for two seasons, Netflix required all episodes of the show’s first season to be available for streaming on day one. This form of distribution will affect audiences more than production, because it opens up new ways in which audiences can consume the material. This thesis however, is interested in how Netflix supposedly changes production process and television series in terms of complexity, not how series are consumed (although this will be touched upon briefly in the chapter on conclusions and further research).
Nevertheless, distributing all episodes at once did have implications for its writing process and production in general. It meant the production team had to finish thirteen episodes before a set date. Although some series that are labeled as ‘quality television’ (HBO series, AMC series Breaking Bad and Mad Men) have their seasons completed before airing, most conventional television series have episodes written and produced mid-season (Douglas 66). This system allows for writers to react to ratings of beginning episodes of a season. For instance, when a series does not meet its numerical threshold of viewership to be continued by the network, they implement dramatic twists to attract more audiences. However, this is not beneficial to the series’ narrative consistency; Lost might be the prime example.
The production practices of Netflix’s proposal of creative control, Its refrain from interference and Netflix’s commitment to two seasons, enabled artistic control for the writers in three significant ways: deep subject matter, character development, and the ‘unexpected’.
3.2.6 Deep Subject Matter
For Willimon, having to write the whole season at once meant he had a large canvas to write the story on. He makes the comparison to a movie script, but with the freedom to go much deeper in terms of subject matter: “There’s only so much you can tell in two hours. (...) You have many chapters, many characters, you can investigate. Your stories can have a great deal of complexity because you don’t have to jam everything into 90-120 minutes. We really
see it, this first season as a thirteen-hour movie. (...) We have episodes because that’s the convention of the form. But really it’s a thirteen-hour film” (Pierce). William’s quote implies that because of Netflix’s employed production practices of committing to two seasons and having the first season ready on one date, the story could consist of deep and complex subject matter. In practice, this meant that scenes could, for example, have a duration longer than ten minutes, which is rare in television (Sepinwall with Willimon). These longer scenes allowed the writers to deepen the story and take the time to lay out the story, rather than being forced to adhere to conventional episode structures that predominantly consist of two-minute scenes.
3.2.7 Character Development
Artistic control over character development allowed for “characterizations to be complex, deep, layered, and to be revealed slowly and be faceted” (Sepinwall with Fincher). It allowed for scenes that centered purely around a specific character, without driving the plot forward in any meaningful way. These scenes are uncommon in traditional series because network executives are not very willing to spend valuable shooting time on scenes that do not progress the story, argues Fincher (Ryan). Furthermore, artistic control meant Willimon could portray his characters’ unlikeable and evil qualities. Unethical protagonists are not new to television series (HBO’s The Wire and The Sopranos, as well as the more AMC’s Breaking Bad all fall in this category), but Willimon argues character likeability is definitely an important selling point in television series. However, Willimon was uninterested in the likeability of his characters. He only cared if the viewers would be attracted to them (Ryan).
3.2.8 Unexpected
The final manner in which Netflix’s production practices allowed for artistic freedom in writing, was implementing the so-called ‘unexpected’. This is when minor characters or events might end up playing a huge part later on, or vice versa (Pierce). This means characters and events cannot be dismissed as unimportant, even though they initially are given little screen time. Conversely, conventional assumptions about main characters or events based on their screen time or attention in the story could be invalid. Willimon argues that writing in unexpected elements is not possible in conventional television series, because “In the normal TV writing process you don’t have time to consider that, so you’re constantly playing catch-up. You’re just trying to get the next 60 minutes ready in time for the cameras that are shooting in two weeks”. Willimon explains that, when writing House of Cards, he was instead able to “really step back and say, ‘where is this going?’ And put elements early on in the story that will pay off huge dividends later” (Pierce). It was only because Netflix chose to
deliver whole season at once and committed to two seasons that Willimon was able to implement the unexpected.
3.2.9 Production Method
As described above, during pre-production Netflix granted the creators of House of Cards complete artistic control. This allowed Fincher to implement a production method of unimpeded directorial authority (Abele). Fincher’s goal was a creative process that was liberating for directors; Fincher directed the first two episodes, after which he assigned the rest episodes to five other directors of his choice, who worked in pairs. This made for a unique working environment, because there was no involvement on set or script interference, which is conventional in directing for television recalls McDougall, one of the House of Cards directors (Abele).
Another consequence of Fincher’s production method was that directors, rather than writers, had final cut. In addition to having the artistic control on set, this meant the creative freedom was extended into the editing room. The significance of Fincher’s production method lies in the fact that directorial artistic control (both during production and post) is highly unusual in television production. Television is considered foremost a writer’s medium, because storylines evolve and characters continue over many episodes. In contrast, cinema is a director’s medium, because its two-hour format only allows for little excavating of the story and its characters; the plot is more important (Douglas second edition 52). It is therefore significant that House of Cards knew a director centered production method, with final say for the directors.
3.3. Motive
As previously outlined, the practice of hiring staff without appropriate experience is highly unusual in television. It is an industry that historically relies on worn rules and proven methods whilst avoiding risks in search of economic stability (Mittell 32). Whereas sitcoms and reality television is rather cheap to produce, dramatic series are significantly more expensive. The production costs for an hour of dramatic serial content typically range between five and twenty million dollars (Douglas 21). Therefore, Netflix’s decisions to shell out one hundred million dollars and commit to two seasons seems very risky from an outsider’s perspective. In terms of marketing, Netflix capitalized on this ‘risky’ move by creating a discourse and image around Netflix as the company that was willing to gamble, mostly effectuated by the media that covered the premier of House of Cards (Ryan, Levin, Jeffries).
However, Netflix had the unique ability to create a predictable pool of viewers from its data, which would likely be interested in the combination of earlier-mentioned creators and
the story of House of Cards. This gave Sarandos the ability to make a commitment to the project: “I feel much better spending what we did knowing that I’m going to end up with twenty-six hours of content that at worst is going to be mediocre, and I highly doubt David Fincher would create a mediocre product. So that was the bet. That’s as far as I wanted to bet creatively. It had the stars attached. It had scripts written. It had a showrunner. It had a bible. It had executive producers with great track records” (Media Industries Project 143). Therefore, when looking at the investment from Netflix’s side, instead of spending eight to ten million dollars on a pilot, they hired the best talent available and paid them top dollar. Subsequently, the only way to get a return on investment was to leave them alone artistically. The artistic control Netflix gives to producers may lie in their belief that this is a sustainable business model. The decision was obviously backed by their algorithmic calculations, but it was still a departure from conventional methods of producing television series. This approach also emerged in the production processes surrounding the cancelled FOX show Arrested Development (2003-present). They renewed it for a fourth season in 2013, while FOX canceled it due to low ratings seven years earlier. Netflix’s belief in a product that has a cult status is comparable to how they initiated production on House of Cards: by calculating they could attract an audience large enough to justify the investment, and subsequently allowing the creator's artistic control.
4. Narrative Complexity
This chapter examines the effects yielded by Netflix’s production practices in relation to complex television. Mittell’s framework of poetics of contemporary television storytelling will be used to uncover storytelling strategies that can be considered complex. This chapter is broken up into six segments: Beats, acts and arcs; Seriality; Chekov’s gun; Curiosity hypotheses; Comprehension; Visual style.
4.1. Beats, Acts, and Arcs
Any narrative consists of beats, acts and arcs. Each of these narrative elements has parameters by conventions, which are mostly driven by commercial incentives (as described in chapter two, but will be repeated in this section) Theoretically, House of Cards should not be constrained by these parameters.
4.1.1 Beats
Series are broken into episodes that can be divided into three or four acts, that each consists of a certain number of beats. Beats are dramatic scenes that are essential building blocks for storytelling: each scene has a motivated protagonist who wants something and drives the action to get it through conflict with an opposition, usually an equally motivated antagonist. (Douglas 84). Dramatic beats push the narrative forward, and should each consist of no more than two scripts pages, which roughly equals two minutes of screen time. According to Douglas, scenes over two minutes tend to lose focus and become abundant, which risks losing the viewer’s attention. Anything over three minutes is a red flag for television executives (89-90). As Newman argues, beats must therefore be efficient, must have a dramatic function and should not be digressive from the narrative’s forward progress (18). However, this is a constraint on writers, because telling a story in equally short segments is, for obvious reasons, unnatural. The framework in which the story is cast (a beat sheet) is in place for imperative commercial reasons: to keep the viewer from becoming bored by having to concentrate on the same scene too long, and consequently change the channel.
To suggest that House of Cards could abandon a beat sheet model entirely as there is no fear of changing a channel on Netflix, would go too far. This is because in its core, a beat sheet serves to keep an audience entertained, which is the raison d’etre of any television drama series. In the light of complex TV, it is important to uncover House of Cards’s interpretation of the beat sheet, as supposedly there was no executive power to keep strict parameters.
