Don’t Believe The Hype
Some of you may remember that a while ago, I posted a blogpost complaining about WandaVision, a show so poorly-written that it is to date the last Marvel Cinematic Universe work I have watched of my own free will. I deleted that post, because, well, it was basically 3000 words of nerd-whinge, which didn’t reflect well on me. However, I did hit upon an idea which has influenced the way I approach media ever since.
In that post, I named what I perceived to be a problem in the way capital adversely affects storytelling decisions when it comes to popular art, especially big moneymakers like the MCU and Star Wars. I called it the “hype economy” – when compelling, character-driven storytelling takes a backseat to cheap, hype-driven storytelling; when what keeps people watching is FOMO and a superficial desire to find out what comes next, at the expense of actually telling a satisfying story.
Since then, I have noticed a change in my behaviour when it comes to films, television, music and books. I have begun staunchly refusing to experience any sort of popular art while it is still in its “hype cycle”, with the notable exception of Doctor Who, which I do try to watch on the day of broadcast (old habits die hard).
Barbenheimer? Haven’t seen them. The Bear? Heard it’s good. Haven’t seen it. That book TikTok urged you to read right away? Almost certainly haven’t read it. In fact, if a book is listed on a website as being a “TikTok sensation”, I tend to assume it’s horrible and avoid it.
Now, do I believe a show like The Bear is a hype-driven, cynical cash-in? No. By all accounts, it’s a great show. Do I believe that Barbie or Oppenheimer were deliberately released close together to create an amusing juxtaposition? No, but it was a marketer’s dream come true that the meme took off as well as it did.
Yet, even though these works are not driven primarily by hype, I am still deeply suspicious of the current ecosystem when it comes to the popular arts. Because I have worked in marketing, and I guarantee you that people watched what happened in Summer 2023. It would not surprise me in the least if another attempt at Barbenheimer is made over the coming few years. No marketer wants to believe that lightning in a bottle or a flash in the pan is ever just that.
I believe that following hype is not only antithetical to art, but it also encourages you to spend money to waste your time. To sink hours of your life into movies and TV shows, to make homework of your life, just to keep up with the relentless hype train, lest you be left behind, lest you miss out on what everyone’s watching and talking about.
The hype economy creates art that is like any cheap consumer product. Art that is intended to be used up in the moment and thrown away. Art you must experience the year it is made, lest it become irrelevant next year, or the year after.
The art that has staying power is the art that isn’t driven by hype, isn’t pushed to you by TikTok algorithms. It’s the art you discover running your hand along spines in a second-hand bookshop. It’s the art whose name you hear in a conversation between strangers on the train, which you go on to Google. It’s art that sticks in the mind, art that lasts.
I have no doubt that Barbie, Oppenheimer and The Bear will all pass this test in years to come. But I would rather experience them as works of art that have graduated to the paradise of timelessness, works to return to for years to come. Not works of art to experience in their FOMO moment, before I miss out on a conversation about a novelty. Great art inspires analysis and critical thought for years to come. Hype-driven art inspires fan theories.
Does this make me out of touch? Perhaps. But I’ll tell you one thing. I am much happier for watching things dislocated from their moment in time. I could watch 2001: A Space Odyssey, or Koyaanisqatsi, or The Simpsons, or Breaking Bad, or Mad Max: Fury Road over and over.
History will always separate the wheat from the chaff. And I would rather be a little behind the times than waste my own.