The incredibly slow death of TV shows

If you’re trying to find a show that was made over 10 years ago on streaming services, you’ll likely find a huge back catalog. You can easily find eight or more seasons, each with over 20 episodes, often over 40 minutes long. But if you compare an old show to a show made recently, you’d be lucky if this newer show’s total episode count matches two seasons of an older show. What happened?

The way TV shows are made changed. Previously, episodes would deal with a new problem or scenario each week, and it would be solved within the episode. There might be a loose thread connecting episodes in the season together or callbacks to previous episodes. Ultimately, each episode was mostly self-contained, and it was quick and cheap to make an episode. 

But the scale of what showrunners were trying to accomplish expanded and the cost along with it. TV shows entered a new era with “prestige TV.” Rather than focusing on a purely episodic format, each episode became more of a straight continuation of the last. Essentially, TV shows became 10 hour-long movies broken up into segments. Chasing the same scope as movies dramatically raised the cost of episodes, requiring multiple large-scale climactic events in order to keep viewers engaged. It’s not uncommon for episodes to cost over $10 million, making it unsustainable to have large episode counts. Twenty-episode seasons dwindled down to 13, which then fell to 10, and now it seems like we’re lucky to get more than eight episodes a season.

Not only are TV producers making fewer episodes, but the waits between seasons are getting longer. House of the Dragon (2022) took a year and a half for its second season to come out (with two fewer episodes). The Last of Us (2023) took over two years to come out with its second season (also with two fewer episodes). Severance (2022) took a ridiculous three years to come out with its second season (mercifully, with one more episode than its previous season). Euphoria (2019), perhaps the worst offender of any show, is taking an absurd four years to release its third season (with the same number of episodes). These wait times are a symptom of the same problem as the lower episode counts: accomplishing more takes more time. Just as movie sequels seem to take two to four years to come out, now TV shows do, too.

As TV shows draw closer to being more like 10 hour-long movies, it becomes harder and harder not only to write and obtain funding for a show but also to plan around the actors’ schedules. The actors casting directors choose nowadays are simply harder to work with scheduling-wise. TV shows becoming more like movies means they can cast movie stars, most of which have many other projects that need their attention, requiring even greater delays. We sometimes even have to deal with frustrating waits mid-season.

It used to be a mark of prestige to split up seasons of a show. As far as I can tell, the first season to be split up was the final season of The Sopranos (1999), the originator of prestige TV. Lots of other forerunners of prestige TV did the same thing, like Breaking Bad (2008) and Mad Men (2007). 

Since then, however, things have spiraled out of control. It seems like every show is splitting up their regular seasons, not even saving the gimmick for the last season. Invincible (2021), Outer Banks (2020), Better Call Saul (2015) and Bridgerton (2020) are all more recent examples, and splitting seasons used to be rare. The rise of streaming services is likely to blame for this trend becoming more common.

The week-to-week episodes model had people talking about shows constantly while waiting for a new episode. But with streaming, entire seasons come out on the same day, meaning, to avoid potential spoilers, you now have to watch every episode as soon as possible. This model substantially limits how long the chatter around each show lasts: shows have a lot of buzz when they first get released, but it dies out very quickly. To sustain the excitement around a new show, streamers have split up seasons more and more to keep people talking. Stranger Things’ (2016) final season has already been announced to be three parts rather than just releasing episodes weekly. It’s the worst possible middle ground.

While shows are becoming more “prestigious,” I honestly don’t think they’re getting more enjoyable. It’s hard to remember everything that happened in a show I haven’t seen in years, making it harder to get excited for new seasons. Often the first few episodes of a new season become an exercise in trying to remember character names and decipher the goals of their actions. 

So many of these shows also feel too similar. They often have the exact same templates, where morally gray protagonists descend further and further into evil acts in the pursuit of their ultimate goals (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Mad Men, Succession (2018), the list goes on). Sometimes they win, sometimes they lose, but it’s always at the cost of their humanity. It’s either that or an ensemble taking on a more powerful group and/or trying to solve a mystery. The large cast of characters makes the plot tropes no less noticeable. Increasingly common is a mix of the two styles, with a morally gray ensemble. If you blur the lines enough, I think every prestigious show will fit into one of these three categories. This form of elevated TV has completely taken over the medium; it’s unavoidable at this point.  And, you know what, it’s exhausting! 

It’s the exact same template every time with a new coat of paint. They’re like Marvel movies with philosophical musings on morality: They always hit the same emotional beats of being thrilling but depressing at the same time. Even if you can’t predict the exact turn of the plot, you know exactly what to expect on how a prestige show is going to make you feel. 

I miss comedies. Maybe I’m just looking in the wrong circles, but it seems to me that most new comedies are more dramas with the occasional joke sprinkled in. I mean, in 2023, The Bear, with its dramatic monologues and stressed-filled chaos, won best comedy at the Emmys, certainly a comedic far cry from The Office, Seinfeld or Friends. 

You want to see characters make morally grey choices with the show still being fun? Watch some reality TV — at least its seasons come out regularly.