The Fifth Season Dilemma

One of the clearest arguments in favor of the “Five Season Show” is the obvious logic of Aristotelian dramatic structure.  (Bored yet? I promise this won’t be too academic.)  Basically, this structure states that a story consists of five parts: the exposition, the rising action, the climax, the falling action, and the denouement.  In TV terms, I think each season represents a stage of the structure.  The first season the writers set up the show and the characters; the second season they put the characters into action; third season, they take risks and change/mature the show a bit; fourth season, the story unravels/expands as the characters cope with/adapt to the changes from season three; and the fifth season, the characters and story arrive at their final destination, hopefully a good one.

Furthermore, I think this structure is not just limited to the story arc of the show. It also applies to how the show is made and how the writers/showrunners deal with each season.  Not to be repetitive, but let me break down the seasons once again, this time from a grander standpoint.  The first season is where the writers get their sea legs and figure out what works on the show and what doesn’t.  Second season takes advantage of this growth time and runs with it, really getting into a groove.  In the third season, the writers up the ante, realizing that they can’t skate on previous successes; often times, they add game-changing elements to spring them into – season four, where the game change either pays off or, more often than not, weighs the show down.  In season four, the show either tends to fall into a bit of a funk, hampered by a desire to stay fresh and reality that the show can’t quite achieve it, or it has a surge, enlivened by the changes made in season three.  Then, there is season five where everything from the four previous seasons comes together.  The writers have learned their lessons from seasons that came before and often have a creative resurgence so that when the show ends, it goes out on a high. Don’t believe me, yet?  How about an example?  Take Angel, an excellent five season show whose structure perfectly fits into Aristotle’s ideal. (Did I mention I love Joss Whedon? This is one of the reasons why.) PS. The show’s been off the air for eight years, but if you haven’t seen it, spoilers ahead.

Season one takes its time establishing the world of the spinoff, introducing us to new characters (Hello, Doyle), creating a villain in Wolfram and Hart and setting up the procedural case structure of the episodes.  Season one has some great episodes – “I Will Remember You” and “Hero” come to mind – but it’s still a little weak around the edges. The writers need a little while to figure out what to do with Lesley or how Cordelia’s character should change or how involved Angel should be in the world around him.  Basically the show is still developing, and that’s fine for a freshman season.

Season two is a better year, a more focused year.  The writers introduce the character of Gunn as a regular (he appeared in season one, but only peripherally); Lorne becomes a bigger presence; and, in the last few episodes, Fred appears into the mix.  There are still excellent standalone episodes, in particular “Are You Now or Have You Ever Been,” but in general, the series becomes less about investigating cases each week and more about expanding arcs of the characters and the broadening scope of the show.  The mythology of Wolfram and Hart deepens; the big bads, Drusilla and Darla, become more entrenched in the action. It’s evident that, unlike in the first season, the arcs of the show are more defined, better thought out. Take Angel’s descent into evil – this is something that the show wouldn’t have been able to handle in season one, but which exists as a tent-pole of season two.  As I said, this is the season when the show finds its groove.

The third season is quite clearly the turning point of the series.  If pressed, I could give you the moment, to the episode and minute, when the show climaxes and starts its “falling action,” but since this isn’t an article about Angel, I’ll not get too deep into things.  Let’s just say that it starts off with all the momentum it gained in the previous seasons and has an excellent run of episodes.  Fred becomes a member of the team and the group unofficially becomes a Whedonesque family.  Oh, and Darla gets pregnant with Angel’s child.  Should I have mentioned that earlier?  Game-changer, right? Undeniably, season three is the season the writers decided they were comfortable with taking risks, and for a while, these risks truly paid off.  Some of the best episodes of the show involve Angel, the arrival of his son and the ensuing repercussions, just look at “Lullaby” and especially “Sleep Tight.” Everything is on point, tight, distinct and eminently watchable. And then the show reaches it’s tipping point.  Around the middle of the season, the risks stop working and start falling flat.  When Connor, Angel’s son, comes back to LA as a full grown man, all the plates that the writers were balancing start to go off kilter. Begin the funk.

Season four of Angel is an unmitigated mess. (I know some people, even friends of mine, disagree.  But they are flat-out wrong.) There are plot lines all over the place, red herring big bads, real big bads, big bads that everybody is tricked into loving.  And did I forget to mention borderline “Mary Kay Laterno” sex? It still makes me uncomfortable thinking about it. Clearly the writers of the show are trying to take risks similar to the ones that paid off the previous season, but those risks have with less effect.  It’s too much for the show to handle. When I list them, it makes me surprised the show didn’t collapse under it’s own weight.  Cordelia becomes a god.  Angel transforms into Angelus.  Several characters die.  Wesley is a villain for a while.  There’s a mystical birth of a full grown woman who appears to be a messiah but turns out to be a human-eating monsters.  It’s all goes very, well, pear-shaped.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s still the show that people loved for three previous seasons, and there are some very good episodes (“Habeas Corpses” “Orpheus” and “Home”), but it’s pretty plain that the show has lost some of its steam/direction.

Then we arrive at the fifth season.  I’ll admit right now that the writers of the show didn’t plan for this to be the last season.  But even so, it fits as a denouement to the series.  At the end of season four, the group becomes the key-holders for Wolfram and Hart, their one-time nemesis.  This complete shift in paradigm adds new life and direction to the series and brings the show back to the focused greatness of season two and three.  There is a renewal of creativity from the writing team now that they are not tied down to the case of the week structure.  Whole new paths for the stories to go open up.  Also, Spike enters the mix, changing the dynamics of the group for the better in my opinion (but, of course, this is all my opinion).  It’s evident that the writers of the show have learned their lessons from previous seasons; they’ve taken a step back to see what works and what doesn’t, and better television results.  It goes out at the top of its game, and it leaves the viewer wanting more but also satisfied with the way things end.  It’s a denouement in the best sense, and because of that, I will always look back fondly on the show.  Season five has some of the best episodes of the series.  If you can watch “A Hole in the World” without crying, then you are a hard-hearted individual, and you should stop reading my blog now.  Leave.  Go. Good riddance.

Now, enough of Angel.  This five-act structure relates to other shows as well.  I could have just as easily examined The Wire or Buffy.  You can look at shows already past five seasons and apply this idea to them.  Try it.  I’ll wait while you think about Lost or Gilmore Girls.  I’m right, aren’t I? And needless to say, there are shows on right now, in their early years, that are on track to follow this same pattern.  Look at Community and Parks and Rec.  Examine Fringe‘s seasons so far.  Their seasons fit the model, too.  Aristotle was on to something.  Who would have thought he would be so good at TV?

Need More Proof?: Let’s try The Garmin Hypothesis.

4 thoughts on “The Fifth Season Dilemma

  1. I really enjoyed this post.

    I think an interesting side point to this topic would be Dollhouse, as it was intended to go for five seasons but was condensed into two. It suffers because of that.

  2. Thanks for commenting. I didn’t know that Dollhouse was planned as a five season show. But that’s fascinating to know. And I agree, it did suffer from being shoehorned into two seasons. (I still love those seasons, though) I think Joss Whedon shows really are some of the best examples I could ask for when defending the five season theory. They just fit so perfectly.

    • Well at least that’s what I heard – It was certainly sketched out for a longer run than it had.
      You can sort of see it in the show itself. If you remember in season 2 there is a section where Echo is working outside of the dollhouse. They more or less just skip over it because they literally didn’t have time to tell that story proprerly.
      If it was to be a major season arc (which I feel it could well have been) then it would fit nicely with what you were saying about the third season breaking the established rules and taking more risks.
      I still think the show would have ended in roughly the same way that it did, only they would have peered into a few more corners along the way. [That’s why I think it suffered, I quite like peering into corners 🙂 ]

  3. Excellent article, and spot on regarding the quality benefits of a five season run. I would however have loved a season six of Angel, as there was some genuinely brilliant character development and interactions coming, in regards to Illyria, Wesley, Angel and Spike, and even Gunn, who I felt often lacked in good character development. Though, I feel that “Angel” season five is so fondly looked upon perhaps mostly because of the new dynamics explored, and that last six-episode range from “A Hole In The World” til’ “Not Fade Away”, which was among the best I’ve seen in television. There were some holes in the season, especially in the first half, but that was mostly negated by the inclusion of Spike into the cast. I actually wasn’t particular fond of him on Buffy, but his rapport with Angel was wonderful in all its pettiness, history, and emotional depth.

    Basically though, the reason “Angel” was a good show was because it constantly changed, embraced the fleeting nature of human life and interaction, while maintaining its emotional charge. That “Angel” constantly reinventing itself was the drive and subtle matter of the show, as it was a show with an existential core, creating its own meaning and purpose, and then recreating them in different clothing and situations. This could be interestingly examined in contrast to the five season run limit you proposed, as it meant that the structure it built up wasn’t leading to any particular climax, just that the climax was fairly easily created out of it. Was “Angel” a show that by accident fit into the five show success mold, or was its wonderful ending and run due to its existential and constantly reinventing nature? The grand finale, where Angel the character chooses something he desperately wanted in favour of doing the right thing, would perhaps point to the latter, but the question would be up for debate.

    Kathiravan Isak Arulampalam.

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