Okay, I cheated with the title of this post. I know this isn't Abrams' intention. And I know there's a certain irony to taking his words out of context when those very words are about things being taken out of context.
Still, I couldn't resist.
From Wired's article J.J. Abrams on the Magic of Mystery:
People often ask me how Lost is going to end. I usually tell them to ask Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse, who run that series. But I always wonder, do they really want to know? And what if I did tell them? They might have an aha moment, but without context. Especially since the final episode is a year away. That is to say, the experience—the setup for a joke's punch line, the buildup to a magic trick's big flourish—is as much of a thrill as the result. There's discovery to be made and wonder to be had on the journey that not only enrich the ending but in many ways define it.
If you merely skimmed that paragraph, go back and re-read it.
Obviously, Abrams does not condone spoilers. He's talking about how the story is about the journey, not just the destination. And he's right. Yet I'm going to take part of what he's saying, twist it around to defend spoilers, then explain why I think spoilers are wrong, then talk about why I read them anyway. And probably not in that order.
Confused? Well, just remember "it's about the journey." So journey on...
Abrams was pointing out that spoilers don't give you the full experience of the story. They actually rob you of most of the experience — arguably, the best part of the experience. For example, there's more going on in Sixth Sense than just the plot twist. And as Ned pointed out in RandomChatter #35, you know how Shakespeare plays will end, yet you still go see the plays — because it's about the journey. It's about how the play is done.
That is, if you're a Shakespeare fan. I'm not, but that's a discussion for another time.
But if Abrams' point is true, then perhaps spoilers aren't as bad as people are saying, right? I mean, a certain person left Lost at the end of the third season, and I had that spoiled, but wouldn't you say that it didn't really spoil much? That the story leading up to that was really what it's all about?
We're all gonna die, but the journey along the way is what makes life worth living. If the writer/producer/whoever makes the journey enjoyable enough, is the destination really that important?
Why do I read spoilers? I don't honestly know. On the surface, I'd say it's because I'm impatient. Or curious. Or have no self-control.
But I think it goes beyond that. There are two different circumstances in which I read spoilers. First is if I want to know whether I want to spend my money and/or time watching a film (or sometimes a television series). The other is if I'm so completely addicted to a world created in a piece of fiction that I can't stand being away from it.
Reading spoilers have saved me from many, many movies that would have infuriated me to watch. City of Angels, for example. Or, better yet, Battlefield Earth. And they've saved me from countless television series. However, I'm sure I would have enjoyed Serenity better had I not heard who was going to die. And I probably would have enjoyed The Fountain a bit more.
I guess I can sum it up best by saying I read movie spoilers to best get an idea of whether I should watch the film, and I get television spoilers (at least, for shows I enjoy) because I can't stand the wait between seasons.
Contrary to popular belief, I don't just read every spoiler that comes across my news feeds. I'm selective.
For movies, I want very basic stuff. What the premise is, how certain elements are handled, etc.
See, I love plot twists. My favorite movies are those whose endings I can't see coming (rare finds). If I were to get spoilers for everything, I'd bore myself out of a hobby. So I actively avoid anything that spoils the end of a movie. For me, it's about both the journey and the destination.
Sure, there are exceptions. If a movie I wanted to see is doing abysmally in its reviews, and if those reviews are by people whose opinions I normally agree with, I may try to find out a bit more about the movie, even if it means more significant spoilers. And 95% of the time, I've found that to be beneficial.
For television, it's not much different. I want to know basically what's going on. For example, I wanted to know that the Lost episode "The Constant" was about Desmond, and I wanted to know the basics of what it was covering (what was happening to him mentally). I didn't want to know how it ended.
My mom used to make brownies and/or cakes when I was a kid. The picture on the box was much like the press release. Looking at it come out of the oven was much like the teaser commercial for next week's episode.
Licking the spoon from the bowl, or the beaters from the mixer, was like the spoilers I get. I wanted more than just a picture or the smell from the cooling brownies. I wanted a taste.
But only a small taste. Eat too much of the batter, and you won't be hungry anymore. Worse yet, it'll make you sick, and then you won't want the brownies at all. It's only about getting a taste to hold you over until the brownies are ready.
Thats how I handle my spoilers.
More from Abrams:
In my profession, this mentality is illustrated by the spoiler: that piece of information meant to be kept secret, like the end of a movie or TV show or novel. Spoilers give fans the answers they want, the resolution they crave. As an avid fan of movies and TV myself, I completely understand the desire to find out behind-the-scenes details in a nanosecond... But the real damage isn't so much that the secret gets out. It's that the experience is destroyed. The illusion is diminished. Which may not matter to some. But then what's the point of actually seeing that movie or episode?
How does knowing the twist before you walk into the theater—or what that island is really about before you watch the finale—make for a richer viewing experience? It's telling that the very term itself—spoiler—has become synonymous with "cool info you can get before the other guy." What no one remembers is that it literally means "to damage irreparably; to ruin." Spoilers make no bones about destroying the intended experience—and somehow that has become, for many, the preferred choice.
For the record, as I hope I explained above, it's not my preferred choice. I'm far more selective than people realize, and I'm very in-tune with what ruins something for me. I'm very careful not to cross that line, and I'm usually very successful.
So as Abrams points out, spoilers are a double-whammy — not only does one rob themselves of the plot surprise, they ruin the journey itself. If you know the ending of a book, why bother reading it? Knowing the ending makes the journey uninteresting.
At least, it usually does. I'll concede Abrams' point as being accurate more often than not, but let's not forget the Shakespeare effect. And let's not forget that some movies and/or television series are enjoyed by many people on multiple viewings (I stopped counting how often I'd watched the entire Babylon 5 series on the twelfth viewing).
Sometimes the journey is enough.
One last quote from Abrams:
In some cases, spoilers don't just prevent the intended experience of something, they prevent the very existence of it. Case in point: I had spent close to two years working on a version of a Superman script for Warner Bros. Then an early draft was leaked, reviewed, and spectacularly decimated on a Web site that I still adore and read daily. It wasn't just that the review was bad. Which it was. I mean, like, kraptastically bad. And probably deserved (I'm the idiot who made Lex Luthor a Kryptonian). What was so depressing wasn't just that the thing being reviewed was an old version of a work in progress. What killed me was that the reviewer—and then readers of that reviewer—weren't just judging my writing. They were judging the movie. A movie that was barely in preproduction and many drafts away from final. A film that ultimately never got made—in small part because that review, and subsequent posts, made studio decisionmakers nervous. The fact is, that Superman film might have been awful. Or it could have been something else. We'll never know.
If I understood their points correctly, Brian and Ned thought it arrogant of a writer, producer, or studio to scrap a project and rewrite it if it's spoiled.
I still don't understand that. No, I don't think it's necessary. Yes, I know it'll get leaked again (though usually full leaks are much closer to release dates). But I think it's their prerogative to make that decision, and I don't think it makes them arrogant.
I was looking into "Fair Use" the other day for something unrelated to this post, and I found an interesting sentence about how authors are protected in how their material is first released to the public. I think that very concept is why these rewrites don't bother me.
But I digress...
Wow. Been a while since I've typed something this lengthy.
For those wondering why I sound wishy-washy — or perhaps even hypocritical — regarding my personal pursuit of spoilers or my feelings on it in general and on how it affects the fandom community, I hope this clears some things up.
For me personally, I know the line between getting a better taste of something and having it ruin my appetite entirely. It's a fine line, but I'm quite in-touch with it.
Generally speaking, I don't recommend people read spoilers. I've considered doing spoiler episodes of LostChatter, and I keep deciding against it. That may change in the future, but I doubt it. I'd keep it within my own guidelines of just giving a taste of things rather than things like finale endings, but I'm still on the fence about any contribution I'd be making toward that culture. I've been on both sides of the fence before, and I'm constantly rethinking my stance.
Regardless, J.J. Abrams makes some great points in the Wired article (none of which actually support my post title), and I highly recommend you read it.
The problem is that this fine line you have defined is nebulous for any other person. What you consider a fair and tasty morsel, I consider a true and textbook spoiler. And because you and so many others are hungry for these little bits of justification, I can no longer watch actual movie trailers.
I can typically tell a lot about a movie from the people who made it, the visual style, and the opening premise. Often it helps to know what genre the film will fall into, but it’s often better not to know that as well. I watched From Dusk till Dawn with someone who had no idea what the movie was about, and I will forever envy that reveal moment when she finally saw the pieces fall into place. We don’t get that any more. I thought Disney had it right by just showing the very beginning of their new Pixar film, Up… but even they have delved fully into the meat of the movie with their new previews. Previews are designed to get you into the theater, not make you enjoy the movie once you get there.
AWESOME! WES IS HERE! And he actually risked listening to an episode of RandomChatter too! :)
…which, seriously, is a cool thing. Wes and I have talked about spoilers before (via the CP forums, if I recall correctly), and I totally support his feelings on them. And more specifically, I take absolutely no offense that he doesn’t listen to RandomChatter, as we do often discuss things he considers spoilers. Just want to point that out.
“The problem is that this fine line you have defined is nebulous for any other person.”
EXACTLY. Which is why I’ve generally stopped recommending people visit websites like Ain’t It Cool News, Dark Horizons, io9, and others. I used to endorse those all the time. Now I don’t.
As you point out, not only is everyone’s line different, for some people it’s not even clearly defined. And the best way to define it is through trial-and-error — which means you’re gonna get burned a few times.
So for those of us who have already gone through that and who know where to get info that doesn’t cross their own lines, that’s great. For everyone else, better they don’t attempt it.
But in today’s society, we’re constantly bombarded with marketing. So to some extent, the line is drawn for us, whether we want it to be or not.
Frankly, I don’t think the crappy trailer designs are the fault of people like me as much as they’re a result of the sensationalism and one-upping by the studios. The idea for a comedy, for example, is that if you’re laughing that hard during the trailer, just think about how awesome it must be to have an hour and a half of that! Of course, comedies are the worst example of trailers spoiling movies.
This didn’t used to be such a problem with trailers. If you look back to the 70′s and 80′s, trailers weren’t like they are today. It seemed to get really bad during the 90′s, and these days, as much as I like to poke at Wes about it, I can TOTALLY understand how people don’t want to watch movie trailers anymore.
That last Terminator trailer for example. Sure, the reveal in that trailer makes me want to see the movie, because it’s cool they’re taking that approach with the story. On the other hand, I would have seen the movie anyway, and I REALLY wish I’d seen that for the first time in the film instead of in the trailer.
Wes, I agree that trailers are way too spoilery now. I still think it’s not as much a result of the Internet spoiler crowd (which wasn’t very prominent back in the 90′s when this really started ramping up) as it is other factors, but I otherwise support your stance 100%.
Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve had more fun robbed from me by movie trailers than I have by online spoilers. Interesting…