Lights, Camera, Inaction

I wanted to find something cheerful to talk about this week but I really wasn't up to much. That's because I've been dragging around my house for the last seven days – when I wasn't in the emergency room or at my doctor's. Bad cold with attendant bronchial problems. A drawerful of medications and days of blowing my nose until it twitches when it scents a tissue, coughing noisily but not musically, and generally feeling about as much use as a chocolate teapot have left my mind, such as it was to begin with, nearly unfit for purpose.

So I tried Twitter in the hope that it would cheer me up – which should give you an idea of how far gone my reasoning abilities are at this point. I ran across something by Haraldur Thorleifsson, the nice Icelandic designer and musician we all started following after he had the flap with Elon Musk. He's a talented guy, but you never know what he's going to come up with next (like most of us, I guess.) He had this:

Heard a joke this week that I can’t stop thinking about.

Q: what did the frog say to the dead frog?

A: I miss you.

Halli says he got this from an 8-year-old, which sounds about right. Eight-year-old philosophers can knock you over sometimes. I was tempted to natter on about this – not that I have anything cogent to add to that profound observation, but it reminded me of something a television screenwriter had said in an interview once a decade or so back. I wondered if the internet's version of the akashic record could yield up a quote. I went hunting.

I kind of wished I hadn't.

In the years since I'd last spared a thought for that writer, he'd apparently gone from strength to strength. He'd become a famous 'showrunner' – producer, boss of bosses, well-known auteur of the streaming open-ended serial. I noted approving articles describing his successes in glowing terms: the popularity of his series, which I'd never seen nor even heard of, which is obviously my own fault, I don't even try to keep up.

I even skimmed one detailed interview in which he discussed the 'production process' with an admiring journalist from a specialty publication. In this article, the famous producer expanded on the subject of how important it was to respect the input of each and every person involved in the creation of a series: writers, technical crew, actors. How the showrunner had to learn to step back and let the others create. It sounded like a marvelously generous artistic approach. 'It must be serving him well,' I noted approvingly.

This was very far from the subject of sad stories told by small children, which was the quote I was looking for. So I tried a few more search terms. And got stopped in my tracks. 'Famous Showrunner Fired by Network,' I read next. 'Famous Showrunner Investigated for Unspecified Misconduct.'

Hm. 'Unspecified', but 'not sexual harassment.' No surprise about the lack of specificity: people have lawyers. Lawyers have sharp eyes. One could make this worse.

Of course, being 'unspecified' about such things seems unfair to the accused. After all, what if you were the victim of a smear campaign? The lack of specificity could make lead to wild speculation. At least they said it wasn't sexual.

I stumbled across an entertainment news site which had coverage. The story was the by-now-familiar general announcement that a popular show was on hiatus until they found a new showrunner, 'unspecified allegations', etc. But this article had a comment section. And the comment section was full.

A few people said they'd worked with Showrunner X, briefly, and enjoyed the experience. The majority, however, had other things to say. They claimed this man was miserable to work for: he took credit for other people's work, he fostered a hostile environment, he belittled his subordinates. In short:

Just glad this guy's day has finally come.

Anonymous comment

Others complained that they weren't being given specifics and that the commenters were all anonymous. The commenters replied that they couldn't give specifics because the website couldn't publish them legally, and that they were anonymous because they were so terrified of the showrunner, even now.

So what are we to think?

I have no idea if any of those charges are true or not. I don't know any of these people from Adam's housecat. I have no way of researching, either: in this case, further googling would not qualify as research, merely time-wasting. Collecting more rumour and gossip is not productive, especially if you're not part of the milieu that's producing the rumour and gossip.

On the other hand, does it matter to anybody what I think about this business? Not only do I not know anyone involved, but there is absolutely no way any action of mine could influence further events one way or another. Those television shows have gotten along just fine without me and will continue to do so. I'm not in a position to do anyone any favours. So I'll just have to shrug and conclude that the interconnectedness of the universe does not extend to its needing my approval in matters of entertainment labour relations.

I'm kind of glad about that. I didn't really want the responsibility.

So, back to the frog joke. I'll just express my own opinion and tell you that sometimes kids can be our best philosophers. No matter how badly the grownups try to be insightful or witty or clever – and no matter how badly they fail – the kids will be there to remind us that a sudden burst of empathy can be just around the corner.

Let's aim for that, shall we? Excuse me, I've got to go and blow my nose…

Dmitri Gheorgheni

10.04.23 Front Page

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