I want to be entertained. I find current entertainment lacking. Find my own entertainment? No thank you – I’d like my entertainment presented to me, cut up into bite-size pieces, occasionally pre-chewed. Is that too much to ask? Honestly? That somebody else is responsible for my fun? For bringing something fabulous? Something delightful? After many months consuming prestige TV as if a Michelin meal, dodging online spoilers, I am entering a time in my life where I would like to sit low in a beanbag chair and have a little excitement, a little joy poured directly down my throat like a foie-gras goose. Currently, I have to settle for less.
It is no coincidence that reports of the end of “prestige TV” coincide with my own personal exhaustion of the stuff – I have, I believe, singlehandedly maintained this industry through my personal relentless viewing. There is not an award-winning drama I haven’t watched, there is not a darkly comic show investigating grief and/or trauma I haven’t mainlined with biscuits, there is not a philosophical American review I haven’t read solemnly at midnight, occasionally looking up Shakespeare references by the light of a phone.
