Oh, the maddening frustration, the lack of completion, the irresistible lure of needing to know what happens next. The dreaded words “To Be Continued” flashing up on a black TV screen. The movie that fades out before we find out if the heroes reach their destination. The comic book that ends with one character’s shocked face, seeing something we won’t for another thirty days.
Some of us wait patiently. Some of us bite our nails and post to speculation threads at online message boards. Some of us cheat and sniff out spoilers (spoilers will be addressed in a separate entry in the future).
Although novel series do leave questions answered, conflicts unresolved, at the end of each volume, books less frequently leave off with the characters literally on the brink of death. Even if the bigger conflict remains unresolved, novels end with some rounding off of the story.
Novels used to be serialized more often than they are now, however. Charles Dickens’ nineteenth century fans mobbed the dock waiting for the next chapter of The Old Curiosity Shop to arrive, shouting their questions about a beloved character’s fate to the boat’s crew rather than waiting until they had the pages in hand. The modern form of cliffhangers got its start in the silent films of the 1920’s, which ended with the hero or heroine on the brink of death or destruction as a hook to get the audience to come back next week. They evolved from there, and are a frequent tool of storytelling in every format, but most rampant in comics, TV, and movies.
However you slice it, cliffhangers are a permanent and primal part of storytelling. But are they necessary? Recent changes in format and technology have lessened the need to wait, just as changes in book publishing in the early 20th century lessened the need for serialization. It’s easier now to consume series in whole chunks rather than waiting in between episodes or issues.
With comics, there is the trade paperback collection (not to be confused with the graphic novel, which is intended as a single, self-contained longer work), which bundles together five or six months of individual comics. Trade paperbacks usually follow one story arc. Although often even a collected volume will end unresolved. But it’s one big cliffhanger instead of several over a period of months.
Comics by their very nature lend themselves to unresolved suspense. The lower right-hand page frequently tantalizes and sets things up for the big reveal, or resolution, at the top of the next upper left-hand page, a storytelling technique that rises from the format itself. When reading individual issues, we have to wait an entire month to get to the next chapter.
Some people prefer to stay with the month-to-month format. They enjoy the suspense, the wondering, the anticipation, the not-knowing. Others prefer to get the comic book story in one flowing whole, where there may be a cliffhanger at the end of the volume (and tiny cliffhangers every few pages or so) but mostly it’s a whole story in one go.
Likewise, with TV shows, it used to be there was no choice but to wait an entire agonizing seven days to find out the resolution of a two-part episode. Most TV episodes do wrap things up, at least for that self-contained story, but leave bigger “myth-arc” questions hanging. TV season enders are notorious for stopping just at the moment of greatest peril and importance, and many TV shows then go on a hiatus that can last anywhere from three to five months. Season end cliffhangers are usually, though not always, larger in scope than any that fall during the season for a multi-part episode. It makes practical sense, from a marketing standpoint, to keep people talking and interested during a long wait during a hiatus. However, as with trade paperback collections of comics, changes in technology have lessened the impact and need for the wait. Boxed DVD sets of TV seasons may mean a wait until the next volume of DVD’s gets released. But for those who choose to follow shows only on DVD after they’ve been out a few seasons, there is no wait.
Sometimes a story emerges more clearly without the artificial gaps. But it’s a loss as well, because we can’t participate in the communal wondering, the perspective time gives. VCR’s were the first revolution in letting the viewer dictate when to watch and how, but VCR’s aren’t nearly as convenient as DVR’s (digital video recorder) or TiVo’s. The latter two are what have really altered television, along with DVD boxed sets. It’s now very easy to let episodes slide a week or more, and then sit down and watch them back to back.
When we care deeply what happens to particular characters, a cliffhanger can be agonizing. The creators have done their job if we care enough to give a mental (or literal) howl of indignation at not getting to find out what’s going to happen next.
Do we still need cliffhangers? Are they a luxury item? In a hectic world, sometimes it’s easier to consume a series in big gulps rather than remember to go to the comic shop each month, or watch a TV show the same time next week.
Getting the whole story faster has a different emotional impact than having it doled out teasingly. The delay of catharsis, or having it right away, may in fact result in two completely different kinds of stories from the same tale. Whether we’re avoiding cliffhangers as a choice or for convenience, they transform the effect of the story.