by Freddy Tran Nager, Founder of Atomic Tango + Recovering Hate Watcher…
I recently fell in love with a new expression. And, thankfully, it’s not “sharing economy.”
“Hate watching” has been around a few years (I’m slow on the uptake). In case you’re not familiar with the term, that infinite fount of
wisdom knowledge hearsay, Wikipedia, defines it as “watching a television show while simultaneously hating its content or subject.”
I may have to update that definition, because it should include movie sequels and, more significantly, two key qualifications:
- Hate watching involves a thin yet stubborn steel string of hope that your show/movie will get better.
- For movie sequels and shows in their later seasons, hate watching also involves nostalgia for the glory days.
Anyone who insisted on watching the last 3 Star Wars installments (The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, and Revenge of the Sith) will know that soul-killing feeling.
Hate watching certainly describes my experience watching the last few seasons of Dexter.
And more recently, it describes my experience with Fear The Walking Dead (FTWD), the spinoff of the monster series The Walking Dead. In fact, I first heard the term “hate watching” when someone on Facebook posted that she was doing it with FTWD.
Now, I’ve also long held a love-hate relationship with the original Walking Dead series, but I became addicted to it once I grew attached to the the characters — which came early.
Not so much with FTWD. The spinoff is set in Los Angeles, where I’ve lived for over two decades surrounded by dazzling personalities, eccentrics, geniuses, and assorted egos so inflated they’re rented out for balloon rides.
Yet FTWD decided to focus on some of the least interesting people in the city. A dysfunctional family? Gee, how original for TV. Indeed, these characters — and the entire story — could have been set in Oklahoma City or Poughkeepsie for all it mattered. The only nod to L.A. is traffic jams (yeah, that makes great TV) and a few characters speak Spanish. I commend the writers for ethnic diversity, but language alone doesn’t make people compelling.
Sadly, this show suffers from a lobotomizing lack of imagination. The uninspired title should have clued me in: “Fear The Walking Dead”? Really? What else am I supposed to do? Date them? Hey, there’s an idea for a show…
In terms of action, where are the zombies attacking a Hollywood studio? (“Hey, get those guys off the set! What movie do they think they’re in?!”) How about zombies in the surf? Or zombie supermodels feasting on gangbangers? Or zombies at a basketball game? (Oh, wait, those are the current Lakers…) No, FTWD gives us a family playing Monopoly in a living room. What’s more, the characters alternate between dull and whiny, so I find myself rooting for the zombies.
But I’m hate watching FTWD, hoping for a creative spark or at least some semblance to the original Walking Dead series. It’s like sitting in L.A. traffic, praying it will clear while reminiscing about the times you could drive over 25.
For the Hollywood execs who impose such entertainment atrocities on their most devoted fans, hate watching still means eyeballs, and that translates into shiny dinero in their pockets.
Guess who’s eating our brains?
So I call upon all of you: RESIST! Break the chains of these abusive relationships. Forget what the good ol’ days of a series were like, and give the latest manifestation a good hard sniff test. If something smells rancid and decaying, go ahead and decide that the limited hours of your life are just not worth investing in it. Because watching something you hate will ultimately destroy your cerebral cortex.
And that, of course, is how the zombie apocalypse actually begins.