Sarah Cardwell
I specialise primarily in television aesthetics and adaptation studies. My perspective is most often inspired by the methods and principles of analytic aesthetics.
My first two books, Adaptation Revisited (2002) and Andrew Davies (2005), examined television classic-novel adaptations; theories of adaptation; and questions of authorship, interpretation and evaluation. Recent work explores how adaptation studies might benefit from a fresh perspective drawn from analytic aesthetics.
My ongoing interest in and commitment to television aesthetics informs my three recently-published books: Style/substance: moments in television (2022), Complexity/simplicity: moments in television (2022) and Sound/image: moments in television (2022), all co-edited with Jonathan Bignell and Lucy Fife Donaldson. The books foreground close stylistic and evalutaive analysis alongside meta-critical reflection.
Current projects consider episodic TV; the potential crossover between analytic and television aesthetics; and questions of medium specificity in relation to adaptation.
I am Honorary Fellow in the School of Arts at the University of Kent (from 2011), where I was previously Senior Lecturer (2000-7). Alongside my research, I supervise postgraduate students at Kent and Reading.
Outside academia, I am also a professional dancer and teacher of authentic Argentine Tango: www.atse.co.uk
My first two books, Adaptation Revisited (2002) and Andrew Davies (2005), examined television classic-novel adaptations; theories of adaptation; and questions of authorship, interpretation and evaluation. Recent work explores how adaptation studies might benefit from a fresh perspective drawn from analytic aesthetics.
My ongoing interest in and commitment to television aesthetics informs my three recently-published books: Style/substance: moments in television (2022), Complexity/simplicity: moments in television (2022) and Sound/image: moments in television (2022), all co-edited with Jonathan Bignell and Lucy Fife Donaldson. The books foreground close stylistic and evalutaive analysis alongside meta-critical reflection.
Current projects consider episodic TV; the potential crossover between analytic and television aesthetics; and questions of medium specificity in relation to adaptation.
I am Honorary Fellow in the School of Arts at the University of Kent (from 2011), where I was previously Senior Lecturer (2000-7). Alongside my research, I supervise postgraduate students at Kent and Reading.
Outside academia, I am also a professional dancer and teacher of authentic Argentine Tango: www.atse.co.uk
less
Related Authors
InterestsView All (18)
Uploads
Papers by Sarah Cardwell
Television has been overtly and sustainedly correlated with everyday life – in practice, in criticism and in scholarship. The Introduction explores the value of this existing work, going on to recommend that we also attend more closely to everyday aesthetics. The established genre of epic TV is examined, tracing its connections with earlier and alternative epic forms. However, the idea of epic is then explored more deeply, revealing surprising, previously unacknowledged ways in which it shapes perceptions and evaluations of modern television. Furthermore, though epic and everyday can be conceived as near-opposites, this book argues that they are intimately interdependent.
The introduction closes by presenting the chapters, briefly summarising the content of each one. Most importantly, it highlights the connections and flow within the book, especially in terms of the exploration of the binary ‘epic/everyday’, but also in terms of the programmes chosen, the approaches taken by authors, and other themes that arise across chapters.
The Long Wait was created within a televisual landscape and critical context in which complexity is celebrated as a criterion of value, yet it demonstrates, commends and celebrates simplicity. It does so by drawing extensively and creatively, explicitly and implicitly, upon conceptions of simplicity old and new. In its intricate layering of details, The Long Wait is formally sophisticated, its meticulous artistic design becoming apparent under close scrutiny. Thus the work maintains its formal simplicity via two complexities: the deft artistry behind its creation, and the concealment of this creative process to make a virtue of simplicity. Similarly, its clarity of purpose and the inextricable connections between its chosen perspective and its theme confer simple, singular coherence.
In a critical context which prioritises complexity, The Long Wait’s commitment to simplicity offers a salutary reminder of its aesthetic value – one that we might appreciate more keenly.
Overt references to complexity and ‘complex TV’ have burgeoned in recent years. Complexity has played a particularly salient role in television aesthetics, where it supports evaluative appreciations of specific programmes. However, the range of television works considered in terms of ‘complexity’ is rather narrow: twenty-first century, American, ‘quality’ serial dramas predominate. Furthermore, narrative complexity is frequently prioritised over other kinds. We suggest that conceptions of complexity drawn from analytic aesthetics might help direct attention to other sources of complexity and complex pleasures.
In TV studies, the word ‘simplicity’ is often used as a negative counterpoint, associated with unfashionable and critically-slighted television, rather than as an alternative criterion for value. We make a case for reappraising simplicity, not merely as a route to clarity, concision or accessibility, but also as a potentially valuable aesthetic feature. We note that the achievement and indeed the appreciation of simplicity, just as in the case of complexity, requires complex skills on part of the creator/viewer.
The Introduction sets out the book’s chapters. Contributors come from diverse areas of TV studies; the range of television works addressed is similarly broad, covering UK and US drama, comedy-drama, sitcom, animation, sci-fi, adaptation and advertisement. But all chapters attend closely to stylistic details of specific moments, and all explore the chosen programmes’ achievements in terms of their balance of complexity and simplicity.
The introduction was written by Sarah Cardwell, Jonathan Bignell and Lucy Fife Donaldson.
The introduction was written by Lucy Fife Donaldson, Sarah Cardwell and Jonathan Bignell.
The introduction was written by Jonathan Bignell, Sarah Cardwell and Lucy Fife Donaldson.
Our apparent commonalities, however, lead us not only in diverse directions, but often also into disagreements and mistrust. I write as someone committed to television aesthetics, who embraces the arrival of new perspectives, and recognises the usefulness of much cognitive work, but who nonetheless will admit to some uneasiness about the presumptions underlying cognitive science, and trepidation regarding its deployment within TV studies. This chapter is a preliminary foray into the two approaches side by side. But rather than comparing and contrasting, I aim to uncover something a little more nuanced and elusive: the distinctive sensibility of each perspective and the implicit values which inform it.
The chapter proceeds by identifying some of the commonest notes of concord and discord between aesthetic and cognitive television scholars, uncovering differences of purpose, scope and values, in order to better appreciate the points of urgent distinction which separate the approaches, and to illuminate the hazards of speaking at cross purposes.
So that I might grasp more positively the specific strengths and merits of each perspective, I briefly consider how a specific moment of television might seize the attention of its practitioners. I have chosen two moments drawn from recent US television series – The Closer (FOX, 2005-12) and Desperate Housewives (ABC, 2004-12) – that I argue are most sensitively and persuasively appreciated via cognitive and aesthetic perspectives respectively.
My exploration of these two examples leads me, finally, to revisit this book’s core focus – the television serial – via a consideration of ‘moment’. The ‘sense of moment’ in this chapter’s title consciously denotes two meanings of the word. The first is more commonplace: a moment is a short time, an instant. The second refers to importance, weight, significance. What is the ‘moment’ of a particular fragment within a long-running serial? How do cognitive and aesthetic approaches weigh this moment? As we shall see, cognitivists and aestheticians take up subtly dissimilar stances in relation to seriality and moment(s), and in each approach, the two meanings of ‘moment’ are differently interconnected. Attending to these distinctions helps us uncover something of the sensibility of each perspective. And in keeping with the values and sensibility of a television aesthetician, I ultimately aver that it is television programmes themselves, or the unique particularities of selected moments within them, which will guide us – if we let them – to choose the most appropriate appreciative approach in each case.
There is another long-established, persistent televisual form: the episodic series, composed of fully self-contained episodes (‘small packages’) in terms of plot, and dependent upon core characters supported and supplemented each week by changing cameos. Many scholarly works celebrating the open, evolving serial posit the episodic series as a dead counter-weight: closed, constrained, simplistic, out of date. Unsurprisingly, then, the study of episodic series lags behind that of the serial. Performance in these programmes is likewise overlooked – regarded perhaps as necessarily trivial, repetitive and hollow in nature.
This chapter challenges the prevailing perspective to offer a sensitive and appreciative exploration of specific aspects of performance within traditional episodic series structure. It begins by briefly acknowledging some of the challenges faced by this form, eg. each episode must be self-contained, plausibly incorporating any development, complication and resolutions, yet simultaneously offer interesting characters and engaging performances worthy of return viewing. It then elucidates the implications of episodic form specifically for performances, which must delicately balance several things, including forward momentum with equilibrium, and character revelation and growth with the need for immediate recognisability, ideally avoiding caricature. Finally, it highlights the importance of effectively deploying the essential trope of repetition, whilst avoiding tired repetitiveness.
I focus on a particular programme, exploring how it meets the challenges and implications of episodic series form specifically via performance. Death in Paradise (2011– ) is ignored by scholars and sneered at by critics, but loved by audiences. Like many light-hearted police procedurals, this one is noticeably conventional in structure. Each episode is self-contained, comprises a central cast complemented by extras and cameos, and follows a predictable narrative structure. It embraces episodic series form wholeheartedly. How, then, does this programme continue to engage us? I will suggest that it does so in great part via its management of skilful performances which strike the balances outlined above. I will consider the performances of central characters in comparison with those of cameos, the handling of character development, and above all the pleasure the programme proffers via its repeated revelation and confirmation of character.
Episodic series form is arguably more challenging for its creators than is serial form, and my paper will celebrate the achievements of one specific series, emphasising the crucial importance of performance to its success, and revealing that sometimes good things come in small packages.
However, our concept of adaptation is necessarily diluted as it expands to form a catch-all category for various permutations of borrowing, remaking, inspiring, etc. The question 'What is (an) adaptation?', which pertains to the very definition and delineation of our field, lies neglected. Whilst our appreciation of individual works develops, the crucial conceptual dimension of adaptation studies suffers.
Moreover, the vocabulary adaptation scholars once relied upon appears to be in crisis, its explanatory power increasingly undermined, as alternative terms proliferate. Potentially valuable distinctions between adaptation and closely related practices become blurred.
This chapter recommends we rejuvenate conceptual exploration by attending closely to the language of adaptation studies, taking inspiration from the Anglo-American analytic philosophical tradition.
This chapter sets the ball rolling, taking up one critical concern: the relationship and differences between adaptation and intertextuality. It aims to unravel and revitalise the two concepts, thereby demonstrating how adaptation scholars might develop a more precise vocabulary from which new conceptual insights and debate can evolve.
NB - the Powerpoint slides that accompany and support this paper are available here too - just click on file 2 of 2.
The paper evaluates the usefulness of these distinctions for our conceptual understanding of television, appraisal of television works, and appreciation of television in relation to other arts. Via its reconfiguration of ‘medium/media’, it challenges narrowly contemporary notions of the televisual, positing a more historicised model and situating television alongside other arts – amongst friends.
I contrast the 1971 Persuasion’s understated visual aesthetic and theatrical presentation, with the 1995 version’s liveliness and innovation, and the rather disorientating and rootless interpretation offered in the 2007 production.
Aspect ratio is my primary focus in this paper. I note the current trend is towards wider images and larger television screens, aping the cinematic experience. This paper assesses the often overlooked and sometimes surprising impact of these developments upon the aesthetic qualities of the three serials, and will ultimately assess how persuasively each adaptation exploits the potentialities of its mode and moment of production.
The term ‘television aesthetics’ has become increasingly visible in the field of television studies since the early 2000s. It is used primarily to denote and demarcate both a particular attitude to the televisual medium, and a distinctive approach to the study of television programmes.
Generally, those scholars working comfortably under its aegis take the attitude that television has the potential for artistic integrity, and regard a range of (though not all) television programmes as worthy of the kind of study that closely examines aspects of style. Indeed, to some extent, quite reasonably, ‘television aesthetics’ has become shorthand for a thoughtful, reflective and respectful consideration of texts’ stylistic qualities.
Further, in an important sense, the term functions as a signifier of difference and distinctiveness within the field of television studies, wherein approaches that focus on sociological, ideological and broader cultural matters, but which neglect stylistic analysis and reject artistic evaluation, have been historically dominant. To situate one’s work within ‘television aesthetics’ is to distinguish that work from those previous approaches. The term takes on a declarative function.
However, there is greater potential contained within the term. What else might ‘television aesthetics’ include, beyond close textual/stylistic analysis? What investigations might be undertaken which could allow useful reflection upon the modes and purposes of close analysis in the specific case of television? What other matters are raised by the particular association of ‘aesthetics’ with television? This paper aims to tackle such questions.
Philosophical aesthetics has historically been concerned with difficult questions regarding definitions of art; the nature of taste; and the interrogation of art in terms of beauty, truth, and value(s). Some of these concerns are complicated even further when considered in relation to television, with its increasingly unclear delineation and specificity (now that its original broadcast form is only one of many platforms via which it is viewed), and what Noel Carroll would call its mode of ‘junk fiction’.
My central task in this essay is to examine the notion of ‘aesthetic experience’, which has been much discussed in philosophical aesthetics, but not at all within television studies. Television may appear to mitigate against such experience as it is typically understood, yet this very collection of essays stands as evidence for its existence. Relatedly, I consider the notion of criticism as ‘aesthetic training’, developing Carroll’s notion that one function of aesthetics/criticism is to illuminate current and future texts, and thus enhance the quality of future aesthetic experiences.
Television has been overtly and sustainedly correlated with everyday life – in practice, in criticism and in scholarship. The Introduction explores the value of this existing work, going on to recommend that we also attend more closely to everyday aesthetics. The established genre of epic TV is examined, tracing its connections with earlier and alternative epic forms. However, the idea of epic is then explored more deeply, revealing surprising, previously unacknowledged ways in which it shapes perceptions and evaluations of modern television. Furthermore, though epic and everyday can be conceived as near-opposites, this book argues that they are intimately interdependent.
The introduction closes by presenting the chapters, briefly summarising the content of each one. Most importantly, it highlights the connections and flow within the book, especially in terms of the exploration of the binary ‘epic/everyday’, but also in terms of the programmes chosen, the approaches taken by authors, and other themes that arise across chapters.
The Long Wait was created within a televisual landscape and critical context in which complexity is celebrated as a criterion of value, yet it demonstrates, commends and celebrates simplicity. It does so by drawing extensively and creatively, explicitly and implicitly, upon conceptions of simplicity old and new. In its intricate layering of details, The Long Wait is formally sophisticated, its meticulous artistic design becoming apparent under close scrutiny. Thus the work maintains its formal simplicity via two complexities: the deft artistry behind its creation, and the concealment of this creative process to make a virtue of simplicity. Similarly, its clarity of purpose and the inextricable connections between its chosen perspective and its theme confer simple, singular coherence.
In a critical context which prioritises complexity, The Long Wait’s commitment to simplicity offers a salutary reminder of its aesthetic value – one that we might appreciate more keenly.
Overt references to complexity and ‘complex TV’ have burgeoned in recent years. Complexity has played a particularly salient role in television aesthetics, where it supports evaluative appreciations of specific programmes. However, the range of television works considered in terms of ‘complexity’ is rather narrow: twenty-first century, American, ‘quality’ serial dramas predominate. Furthermore, narrative complexity is frequently prioritised over other kinds. We suggest that conceptions of complexity drawn from analytic aesthetics might help direct attention to other sources of complexity and complex pleasures.
In TV studies, the word ‘simplicity’ is often used as a negative counterpoint, associated with unfashionable and critically-slighted television, rather than as an alternative criterion for value. We make a case for reappraising simplicity, not merely as a route to clarity, concision or accessibility, but also as a potentially valuable aesthetic feature. We note that the achievement and indeed the appreciation of simplicity, just as in the case of complexity, requires complex skills on part of the creator/viewer.
The Introduction sets out the book’s chapters. Contributors come from diverse areas of TV studies; the range of television works addressed is similarly broad, covering UK and US drama, comedy-drama, sitcom, animation, sci-fi, adaptation and advertisement. But all chapters attend closely to stylistic details of specific moments, and all explore the chosen programmes’ achievements in terms of their balance of complexity and simplicity.
The introduction was written by Sarah Cardwell, Jonathan Bignell and Lucy Fife Donaldson.
The introduction was written by Lucy Fife Donaldson, Sarah Cardwell and Jonathan Bignell.
The introduction was written by Jonathan Bignell, Sarah Cardwell and Lucy Fife Donaldson.
Our apparent commonalities, however, lead us not only in diverse directions, but often also into disagreements and mistrust. I write as someone committed to television aesthetics, who embraces the arrival of new perspectives, and recognises the usefulness of much cognitive work, but who nonetheless will admit to some uneasiness about the presumptions underlying cognitive science, and trepidation regarding its deployment within TV studies. This chapter is a preliminary foray into the two approaches side by side. But rather than comparing and contrasting, I aim to uncover something a little more nuanced and elusive: the distinctive sensibility of each perspective and the implicit values which inform it.
The chapter proceeds by identifying some of the commonest notes of concord and discord between aesthetic and cognitive television scholars, uncovering differences of purpose, scope and values, in order to better appreciate the points of urgent distinction which separate the approaches, and to illuminate the hazards of speaking at cross purposes.
So that I might grasp more positively the specific strengths and merits of each perspective, I briefly consider how a specific moment of television might seize the attention of its practitioners. I have chosen two moments drawn from recent US television series – The Closer (FOX, 2005-12) and Desperate Housewives (ABC, 2004-12) – that I argue are most sensitively and persuasively appreciated via cognitive and aesthetic perspectives respectively.
My exploration of these two examples leads me, finally, to revisit this book’s core focus – the television serial – via a consideration of ‘moment’. The ‘sense of moment’ in this chapter’s title consciously denotes two meanings of the word. The first is more commonplace: a moment is a short time, an instant. The second refers to importance, weight, significance. What is the ‘moment’ of a particular fragment within a long-running serial? How do cognitive and aesthetic approaches weigh this moment? As we shall see, cognitivists and aestheticians take up subtly dissimilar stances in relation to seriality and moment(s), and in each approach, the two meanings of ‘moment’ are differently interconnected. Attending to these distinctions helps us uncover something of the sensibility of each perspective. And in keeping with the values and sensibility of a television aesthetician, I ultimately aver that it is television programmes themselves, or the unique particularities of selected moments within them, which will guide us – if we let them – to choose the most appropriate appreciative approach in each case.
There is another long-established, persistent televisual form: the episodic series, composed of fully self-contained episodes (‘small packages’) in terms of plot, and dependent upon core characters supported and supplemented each week by changing cameos. Many scholarly works celebrating the open, evolving serial posit the episodic series as a dead counter-weight: closed, constrained, simplistic, out of date. Unsurprisingly, then, the study of episodic series lags behind that of the serial. Performance in these programmes is likewise overlooked – regarded perhaps as necessarily trivial, repetitive and hollow in nature.
This chapter challenges the prevailing perspective to offer a sensitive and appreciative exploration of specific aspects of performance within traditional episodic series structure. It begins by briefly acknowledging some of the challenges faced by this form, eg. each episode must be self-contained, plausibly incorporating any development, complication and resolutions, yet simultaneously offer interesting characters and engaging performances worthy of return viewing. It then elucidates the implications of episodic form specifically for performances, which must delicately balance several things, including forward momentum with equilibrium, and character revelation and growth with the need for immediate recognisability, ideally avoiding caricature. Finally, it highlights the importance of effectively deploying the essential trope of repetition, whilst avoiding tired repetitiveness.
I focus on a particular programme, exploring how it meets the challenges and implications of episodic series form specifically via performance. Death in Paradise (2011– ) is ignored by scholars and sneered at by critics, but loved by audiences. Like many light-hearted police procedurals, this one is noticeably conventional in structure. Each episode is self-contained, comprises a central cast complemented by extras and cameos, and follows a predictable narrative structure. It embraces episodic series form wholeheartedly. How, then, does this programme continue to engage us? I will suggest that it does so in great part via its management of skilful performances which strike the balances outlined above. I will consider the performances of central characters in comparison with those of cameos, the handling of character development, and above all the pleasure the programme proffers via its repeated revelation and confirmation of character.
Episodic series form is arguably more challenging for its creators than is serial form, and my paper will celebrate the achievements of one specific series, emphasising the crucial importance of performance to its success, and revealing that sometimes good things come in small packages.
However, our concept of adaptation is necessarily diluted as it expands to form a catch-all category for various permutations of borrowing, remaking, inspiring, etc. The question 'What is (an) adaptation?', which pertains to the very definition and delineation of our field, lies neglected. Whilst our appreciation of individual works develops, the crucial conceptual dimension of adaptation studies suffers.
Moreover, the vocabulary adaptation scholars once relied upon appears to be in crisis, its explanatory power increasingly undermined, as alternative terms proliferate. Potentially valuable distinctions between adaptation and closely related practices become blurred.
This chapter recommends we rejuvenate conceptual exploration by attending closely to the language of adaptation studies, taking inspiration from the Anglo-American analytic philosophical tradition.
This chapter sets the ball rolling, taking up one critical concern: the relationship and differences between adaptation and intertextuality. It aims to unravel and revitalise the two concepts, thereby demonstrating how adaptation scholars might develop a more precise vocabulary from which new conceptual insights and debate can evolve.
NB - the Powerpoint slides that accompany and support this paper are available here too - just click on file 2 of 2.
The paper evaluates the usefulness of these distinctions for our conceptual understanding of television, appraisal of television works, and appreciation of television in relation to other arts. Via its reconfiguration of ‘medium/media’, it challenges narrowly contemporary notions of the televisual, positing a more historicised model and situating television alongside other arts – amongst friends.
I contrast the 1971 Persuasion’s understated visual aesthetic and theatrical presentation, with the 1995 version’s liveliness and innovation, and the rather disorientating and rootless interpretation offered in the 2007 production.
Aspect ratio is my primary focus in this paper. I note the current trend is towards wider images and larger television screens, aping the cinematic experience. This paper assesses the often overlooked and sometimes surprising impact of these developments upon the aesthetic qualities of the three serials, and will ultimately assess how persuasively each adaptation exploits the potentialities of its mode and moment of production.
The term ‘television aesthetics’ has become increasingly visible in the field of television studies since the early 2000s. It is used primarily to denote and demarcate both a particular attitude to the televisual medium, and a distinctive approach to the study of television programmes.
Generally, those scholars working comfortably under its aegis take the attitude that television has the potential for artistic integrity, and regard a range of (though not all) television programmes as worthy of the kind of study that closely examines aspects of style. Indeed, to some extent, quite reasonably, ‘television aesthetics’ has become shorthand for a thoughtful, reflective and respectful consideration of texts’ stylistic qualities.
Further, in an important sense, the term functions as a signifier of difference and distinctiveness within the field of television studies, wherein approaches that focus on sociological, ideological and broader cultural matters, but which neglect stylistic analysis and reject artistic evaluation, have been historically dominant. To situate one’s work within ‘television aesthetics’ is to distinguish that work from those previous approaches. The term takes on a declarative function.
However, there is greater potential contained within the term. What else might ‘television aesthetics’ include, beyond close textual/stylistic analysis? What investigations might be undertaken which could allow useful reflection upon the modes and purposes of close analysis in the specific case of television? What other matters are raised by the particular association of ‘aesthetics’ with television? This paper aims to tackle such questions.
Philosophical aesthetics has historically been concerned with difficult questions regarding definitions of art; the nature of taste; and the interrogation of art in terms of beauty, truth, and value(s). Some of these concerns are complicated even further when considered in relation to television, with its increasingly unclear delineation and specificity (now that its original broadcast form is only one of many platforms via which it is viewed), and what Noel Carroll would call its mode of ‘junk fiction’.
My central task in this essay is to examine the notion of ‘aesthetic experience’, which has been much discussed in philosophical aesthetics, but not at all within television studies. Television may appear to mitigate against such experience as it is typically understood, yet this very collection of essays stands as evidence for its existence. Relatedly, I consider the notion of criticism as ‘aesthetic training’, developing Carroll’s notion that one function of aesthetics/criticism is to illuminate current and future texts, and thus enhance the quality of future aesthetic experiences.
The contributors to this collection come from diverse areas of TV studies, bringing with them myriad interests, expertise and perspectives. All chapters undertake close analysis of selected moments in television, considering a wide range of stylistic elements including mise-en-scène, spatial organisation and composition, scripting, costuming, characterisation, performance, lighting and sound design, colour and patterning. The range of television works addressed is similarly broad, covering UK and US drama, comedy-drama, sitcom, science fiction and detective shows. Programmes comprise The Incredible Hulk, Game of Thrones, Detectorists, Community, Doctor Who, The Second Coming, Years and Years, The Americans, Columbo and Lost.
Epic /everyday is essential reading for those interested in how closer attention to the presence of the epic and the everyday might enhance our critical appreciation and enjoyment of television.
The contributors to this collection come from diverse areas of TV studies, bringing with them myriad interests, expertise and perspectives. All chapters undertake close analysis of selected moments in television, considering a wide range of stylistic elements including mise-en-scène, spatial organisation and composition, scripting, costuming, characterisation, performance, lighting and sound design, colour and patterning. The range of television works addressed is similarly broad, covering UK and US drama, comedy-drama, sitcom, animation, science fiction, adaptation and advertisement. Programmes comprise The Handmaid’s Tale, House of Cards, Father Ted, Rick and Morty, Killing Eve, The Wire, Veep, Doctor Who, Vanity Fair and The Long Wait.
Programmes studied comprise The Americans, Call the Midwife, Les Revenants, The Good Wife, Friends, The Simpsons, John From Cincinnati, Police Squad!, and The Time Tunnel. Substance and style are evaluated across these examples from a wide range of television forms, formats and genres, which include series and serial dramas, sitcoms, science-fiction, animation, horror, thrillers and period dramas.
Programmes studied comprise The Twilight Zone, Inspector Morse, Children of the Stones, Dancing on the Edge, Road, Twin Peaks: The Return, Bodyguard, The Walking Dead and Mad Men. Sound and image are evaluated across these examples from a wide range of television forms, formats and genres, which includes series, serial and one-off dramas, children’s programmes, science fiction, thrillers and detective shows.
I have a few brand new, first-edition copies of this book for sale at £10 each plus p&p (1/3rd off RRP). Please contact me if you wish to purchase.
I have brand new, first-edition copies of this book, with full-colour frame grabs (in later reprints, these are black and white), for sale at £10 each plus p&p (1/3rd off RRP). Please contact me if you wish to purchase.