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During one of many long, geeky conversations with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pixyofthestyx (but not thegeekiest, as that honour most likely goes to the one on how best to plot an Angel/Gargoyles crossover, and whether DC comics elements should be included), we discussed those stupid canned laugh tracks beloved of television comedy producers and how annoying they are. Which moved me to generate a long, rambling two pages of pseudo-academic babble about it. The following may or may not make some kind of sense:
I know laugh tracks are holdovers from the days when television shows were filmed in front of a live audience (something talk shows and Saturday Night Live still do, and, you know, I don’t mind laughter in the background on those, since they're intended to be parodies), but really, now that most tv shows are filmed an edited far in advance of being aired, with no studio audience at all half the time, why do we still need them? The laughter of those around you is part of the shared experience at the theater, but when I’m watching something by myself or with a couple of friends, I prefer to share the experience with only the people in the room with me, not with some imaginary studio audience who do not, in fact, actually exist.
It’s irritating, and not just because they laugh at things that aren’t necessarily funny, or because they occasionally make it hard to hear bits of dialogue, or because they’re always the same canned laughter and get really old after about the second commercial break-—it’s because they make it jarringly obvious that the whole episode is being staged.
Real people do not have disembodied laughter following them around,* unless they’re Rand al’Thor from the Wheel of Time books-—and he’s arguably crazy to start with. It drives home (in case the audience has temporarily gotten so involved in the story that they’ve forgotten) the fact that these are not, in fact, real people with lives and existences of their own, but merely actors playing a role. Canned laughter erupting from nowhere whenever a character does something that could be construed as funny is the television equivalent of Bottom and company halting their production of The Most Tragical Comedy and Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisne mid-scene to explain to the audience that their lion is really just a guy in a costume, ladies and gentlemen, so please don’t be scared—-okay, a little scared, because Snug here is trying real hard to be scary--but not too scared. It breaks the fourth wall and makes it more difficult for viewers to suspend their disbelief.
And as someone who watches television shows because I like and sympathise with the characters, not because I want cheap laughs, I want that fourth wall to stay right where it is. There’s a reason I prefer William Gregory Lewis to Lawrence Sterne, and it’s not just because Lewis has cross-dressing demons in monastic robes and undead nuns. Sterne is so busy pointing out to you how clever he as the author is that he never gets around to the all-important business of telling you a story. If the concept of canned laughter had been around in the 18th century, you can bet Tristram Shandy would have made use of it (I can see it now: little parenthetical notes scattered through the text, saying, “All readers, including yourself, are now laughing, because this last line—in case you missed it--was funny.”).
And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there are probably a lot of other fans who also watch and read things because of the characters, who prefer to view the characters and world of the show as real, at least until the episode is over. Why else do you get so much concern over characters acting “like themselves” in fanfiction—if there isn’t, somewhere along the line, an idea that these are people as opposed to mere constructs, why bother so much with characterization?
However, I’m also going to go out on a limb and say that there are probably large sections of the viewing audience who don’t mind being reminded that their favourite shows are just constructs; who may, in fact, prefer things that way. Most people seem to feel that there’s something a little… off… about anyone who expends too much emotional energy on an imaginary construct, and laugh tracks make it harder to do that, because they make it harder to take things seriously. None of it’s real, and everyone’s “just kidding”—look, the audience is laughing, see? It’s all just pretend. (And you’ll note that shows that viewers are supposed to get emotionally involved in, soap operas being the classic example, usually choose not to have laugh tracks).
As an example of this phenomenon: has anyone out there ever watched a MASH dvd with the laugh track turned off? If you haven’t, try it sometime. It makes the show a lot darker, more like a drama than a comedy, even a black comedy. When there’s no fake studio audience to remind you that you’re not supposed to take this seriously, the series is sadder, more thought provoking, more bitter, and, occasionally, painful to watch. It’s still really funny, but more in that “laugh because it’s better than crying way.”
The show’s writers, by the way, never wanted a laugh track in the first place, but the network insisted that they include one, so that the audience would know this was supposed to be a comedy, and not the unholy lovechild of Emergency! and Catch-22.
*Actually, now that I think about it, disembodied laughter that followed the protagonists around would have been a good plot for an episode of BtVS.
pixyofthestyx (but not thegeekiest, as that honour most likely goes to the one on how best to plot an Angel/Gargoyles crossover, and whether DC comics elements should be included), we discussed those stupid canned laugh tracks beloved of television comedy producers and how annoying they are. Which moved me to generate a long, rambling two pages of pseudo-academic babble about it. The following may or may not make some kind of sense:I know laugh tracks are holdovers from the days when television shows were filmed in front of a live audience (something talk shows and Saturday Night Live still do, and, you know, I don’t mind laughter in the background on those, since they're intended to be parodies), but really, now that most tv shows are filmed an edited far in advance of being aired, with no studio audience at all half the time, why do we still need them? The laughter of those around you is part of the shared experience at the theater, but when I’m watching something by myself or with a couple of friends, I prefer to share the experience with only the people in the room with me, not with some imaginary studio audience who do not, in fact, actually exist.
It’s irritating, and not just because they laugh at things that aren’t necessarily funny, or because they occasionally make it hard to hear bits of dialogue, or because they’re always the same canned laughter and get really old after about the second commercial break-—it’s because they make it jarringly obvious that the whole episode is being staged.
Real people do not have disembodied laughter following them around,* unless they’re Rand al’Thor from the Wheel of Time books-—and he’s arguably crazy to start with. It drives home (in case the audience has temporarily gotten so involved in the story that they’ve forgotten) the fact that these are not, in fact, real people with lives and existences of their own, but merely actors playing a role. Canned laughter erupting from nowhere whenever a character does something that could be construed as funny is the television equivalent of Bottom and company halting their production of The Most Tragical Comedy and Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisne mid-scene to explain to the audience that their lion is really just a guy in a costume, ladies and gentlemen, so please don’t be scared—-okay, a little scared, because Snug here is trying real hard to be scary--but not too scared. It breaks the fourth wall and makes it more difficult for viewers to suspend their disbelief.
And as someone who watches television shows because I like and sympathise with the characters, not because I want cheap laughs, I want that fourth wall to stay right where it is. There’s a reason I prefer William Gregory Lewis to Lawrence Sterne, and it’s not just because Lewis has cross-dressing demons in monastic robes and undead nuns. Sterne is so busy pointing out to you how clever he as the author is that he never gets around to the all-important business of telling you a story. If the concept of canned laughter had been around in the 18th century, you can bet Tristram Shandy would have made use of it (I can see it now: little parenthetical notes scattered through the text, saying, “All readers, including yourself, are now laughing, because this last line—in case you missed it--was funny.”).
And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there are probably a lot of other fans who also watch and read things because of the characters, who prefer to view the characters and world of the show as real, at least until the episode is over. Why else do you get so much concern over characters acting “like themselves” in fanfiction—if there isn’t, somewhere along the line, an idea that these are people as opposed to mere constructs, why bother so much with characterization?
However, I’m also going to go out on a limb and say that there are probably large sections of the viewing audience who don’t mind being reminded that their favourite shows are just constructs; who may, in fact, prefer things that way. Most people seem to feel that there’s something a little… off… about anyone who expends too much emotional energy on an imaginary construct, and laugh tracks make it harder to do that, because they make it harder to take things seriously. None of it’s real, and everyone’s “just kidding”—look, the audience is laughing, see? It’s all just pretend. (And you’ll note that shows that viewers are supposed to get emotionally involved in, soap operas being the classic example, usually choose not to have laugh tracks).
As an example of this phenomenon: has anyone out there ever watched a MASH dvd with the laugh track turned off? If you haven’t, try it sometime. It makes the show a lot darker, more like a drama than a comedy, even a black comedy. When there’s no fake studio audience to remind you that you’re not supposed to take this seriously, the series is sadder, more thought provoking, more bitter, and, occasionally, painful to watch. It’s still really funny, but more in that “laugh because it’s better than crying way.”
The show’s writers, by the way, never wanted a laugh track in the first place, but the network insisted that they include one, so that the audience would know this was supposed to be a comedy, and not the unholy lovechild of Emergency! and Catch-22.
*Actually, now that I think about it, disembodied laughter that followed the protagonists around would have been a good plot for an episode of BtVS.
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You can definitely divide the viewing audience up by their reaction to a laugh track. There are some people who like it, some who just don't care, and those who hate it. The people that like the laugh track also seem to be the kind of people who like reality shows- the mental and emotional investment they have to put into their entertainment, the better.
M*A*S*H is actually a great example of this- I've occasionally caught an episode on television, and having seen it without, the laugh track is just incredibly jarring- the fact that it's often on at really inappropriate times just highlights how dark their situation really is.
That would be a great Buffy episode. The laughter would start out relatively un-threatening- laughing at Xander's snark and such, but would end up being really creepy, laughing at all of the wrong times and such.
From:
no subject
From:
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And you also need to come visit me again.
*misses*