Over the last decade, The Blacklist has dominated popular entertainment with its interesting central premise, good action sequences, and iconic Reddington moments. I hope the following lines provide a useful opportunity to reflect critically and to clarify some possible misunderstandings.
Some people are praising the ending as a beautiful and moving sequence in the great finale. Let me say right off the bat that I found it to be a facile, clunky, and poorly filmed sequence with uninspired visuals and a frustrating lack of genuinely emotional momentum. The cinematography simply did not have the same resonance as in previous seasons. This aspect is, however, the least problematic aspect of this fatally flawed episode. Just as a point of clarification, please keep in mind that my argument is not simply an expression of dislike. I did indeed dislike the episode, but that is not what I am trying to justify here. My purpose is different, and perhaps even more ambitious. I am trying to provide an account of why this episode has creatively failed, and any assessment of the validity or lack thereof of the point I am trying to make should be made on those terms. To understand this point we need to turn to the very heart of this story (indeed, to the very heart of any story): the art of story-telling itself.
The first 5 or 6 seasons were thoroughly entertaining, and although there were highs and lows, the quality of its storytelling and well-developed characters sustained the interest in the show, with additional help from some surprising twists. Season 3 was an obvious highlight--it was the moment when the show made bold, original and exciting decisions and found its own identity. Things went a bit awry through most of seasons 7 and 8. It started to become obvious that the writers were stretching the plot a bit too far at times, but, generally speaking, the episodes were still watchable, and so I kept hoping the show would eventually know how to end. I was willing to give the series the benefit of the doubt. From the very first episode, the show has been held together by one fundamental question: what explains Red's interest in working with Liz? This was not a Liz only show nor was it a Red only show. It was always about these two characters together and about the mystery that connects them. True, most of us tuned in just to watch James Spader's charismatic criminal mastermind, but according to the way in which the entire show was framed, the show was for many years about the relationship between two people.
I know some people think that the fact that this season finale does not address this question is irrelevant. Let me be very clear: When you make those kinds of choices as a writer, you are entering a contract with your audience. Set-up and pay-off are two of the most basic structural notions in creative writing (see also the principle Chekov's gun), and they are so central to the craft for a reason: when used skilfully they bring satisfaction to the audience. Not only was the mystery of Red's identity a crucial plot point, it was also the central motivation of Red's character from beginning to end. Over the years, we met a man willing to do anything to protect Liz. Everything he had done had been for her. So why? The lack of an explanation automatically weakens the characterization, depth, and motivations of our central protagonist. The ending of Season 8 had a golden opportunity to end the series on a great note that would have provided much-needed explanations. But the show went in a different direction that contradicted the tone of the previous seasons and broke the fundamental promise the writers had made to their audience.
My point is not that audiences are not getting what they want. I am arguing that audiences are not getting what the series itself had, from its beginning, told us we needed. Why do we want answers? Because that is the main expectation the show set repeatedly season and after season, and a piece of writing that does not follow its own rules is not successful story-telling. A failure to deliver compromises the overall integrity and quality of the entire story. I am insisting so much on this point because it is so fundamental. James Spader's acting has been phenomenal since day 1, but at the end of the day, a story really boils down to its most essential elements, and these are elements that writers have complete creative control over. Actors and set pieces and special effects only work when they have good ideas and well-crafted scripts to build on. The decision not to reveal what was promised is not just about whether the writers have spent the last few years toying with the audience, it is about the consistency and success of the story itself, and it affects the overall impression of the series as a whole. It is disappointing to see that a show that had so much potential and was held together by careful planning has been derailed by poor creative decisions.
The Blacklist is one of many other textbook examples of what happens when corporate greed and the imperious need to prolong the show for one more season eventually work to the detriment of the final product. The creative team seemed to be more interested in getting renewed for just one more season than in actually delivering a worthy finale that people can revisit and remember fondly in the future. Thankfully, other shows like 'Fleabag', knew how to end properly. The Blacklist is not one of those. Red spent 30 years of his life building a criminal empire only to keep Liz safe, but it took only a few seasons of creative missteps to leave viewers with a bad taste in their mouths after watching the ending of what used to be a beloved show.
Leaving themes or big questions deliberately ambiguous is one thing. Making the motivations of the main character utterly unintelligible is quite another. There are certainly many thematic ambiguities in Shakespeare's 'Macbeth', but understanding the most basic aspects of the personality and characterization of Macbeth is not one of them. In an episode of the Big Bang Theory, Sheldon Cooper discusses TV Shows. He says "'Heroes' gradually lowered the quality season by season till we were grateful it ended". I am sorry to report that The Blacklist has now suffered a similar fate.
Night, night.
Some people are praising the ending as a beautiful and moving sequence in the great finale. Let me say right off the bat that I found it to be a facile, clunky, and poorly filmed sequence with uninspired visuals and a frustrating lack of genuinely emotional momentum. The cinematography simply did not have the same resonance as in previous seasons. This aspect is, however, the least problematic aspect of this fatally flawed episode. Just as a point of clarification, please keep in mind that my argument is not simply an expression of dislike. I did indeed dislike the episode, but that is not what I am trying to justify here. My purpose is different, and perhaps even more ambitious. I am trying to provide an account of why this episode has creatively failed, and any assessment of the validity or lack thereof of the point I am trying to make should be made on those terms. To understand this point we need to turn to the very heart of this story (indeed, to the very heart of any story): the art of story-telling itself.
The first 5 or 6 seasons were thoroughly entertaining, and although there were highs and lows, the quality of its storytelling and well-developed characters sustained the interest in the show, with additional help from some surprising twists. Season 3 was an obvious highlight--it was the moment when the show made bold, original and exciting decisions and found its own identity. Things went a bit awry through most of seasons 7 and 8. It started to become obvious that the writers were stretching the plot a bit too far at times, but, generally speaking, the episodes were still watchable, and so I kept hoping the show would eventually know how to end. I was willing to give the series the benefit of the doubt. From the very first episode, the show has been held together by one fundamental question: what explains Red's interest in working with Liz? This was not a Liz only show nor was it a Red only show. It was always about these two characters together and about the mystery that connects them. True, most of us tuned in just to watch James Spader's charismatic criminal mastermind, but according to the way in which the entire show was framed, the show was for many years about the relationship between two people.
I know some people think that the fact that this season finale does not address this question is irrelevant. Let me be very clear: When you make those kinds of choices as a writer, you are entering a contract with your audience. Set-up and pay-off are two of the most basic structural notions in creative writing (see also the principle Chekov's gun), and they are so central to the craft for a reason: when used skilfully they bring satisfaction to the audience. Not only was the mystery of Red's identity a crucial plot point, it was also the central motivation of Red's character from beginning to end. Over the years, we met a man willing to do anything to protect Liz. Everything he had done had been for her. So why? The lack of an explanation automatically weakens the characterization, depth, and motivations of our central protagonist. The ending of Season 8 had a golden opportunity to end the series on a great note that would have provided much-needed explanations. But the show went in a different direction that contradicted the tone of the previous seasons and broke the fundamental promise the writers had made to their audience.
My point is not that audiences are not getting what they want. I am arguing that audiences are not getting what the series itself had, from its beginning, told us we needed. Why do we want answers? Because that is the main expectation the show set repeatedly season and after season, and a piece of writing that does not follow its own rules is not successful story-telling. A failure to deliver compromises the overall integrity and quality of the entire story. I am insisting so much on this point because it is so fundamental. James Spader's acting has been phenomenal since day 1, but at the end of the day, a story really boils down to its most essential elements, and these are elements that writers have complete creative control over. Actors and set pieces and special effects only work when they have good ideas and well-crafted scripts to build on. The decision not to reveal what was promised is not just about whether the writers have spent the last few years toying with the audience, it is about the consistency and success of the story itself, and it affects the overall impression of the series as a whole. It is disappointing to see that a show that had so much potential and was held together by careful planning has been derailed by poor creative decisions.
The Blacklist is one of many other textbook examples of what happens when corporate greed and the imperious need to prolong the show for one more season eventually work to the detriment of the final product. The creative team seemed to be more interested in getting renewed for just one more season than in actually delivering a worthy finale that people can revisit and remember fondly in the future. Thankfully, other shows like 'Fleabag', knew how to end properly. The Blacklist is not one of those. Red spent 30 years of his life building a criminal empire only to keep Liz safe, but it took only a few seasons of creative missteps to leave viewers with a bad taste in their mouths after watching the ending of what used to be a beloved show.
Leaving themes or big questions deliberately ambiguous is one thing. Making the motivations of the main character utterly unintelligible is quite another. There are certainly many thematic ambiguities in Shakespeare's 'Macbeth', but understanding the most basic aspects of the personality and characterization of Macbeth is not one of them. In an episode of the Big Bang Theory, Sheldon Cooper discusses TV Shows. He says "'Heroes' gradually lowered the quality season by season till we were grateful it ended". I am sorry to report that The Blacklist has now suffered a similar fate.
Night, night.
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