I am revisiting an old experience; that of watching television shows ‘in real time’. Broadchurch, Girls, Big Little Lies. Rather than getting to them a little late and downloading the whole series and bingeing, goggle-eyed, three hours at a time, I am having to wait for a WEEK. And it kind of keeps the magic alive. It’s a little like waiting to have sex with a new bloke – doing it too soon sometimes works but sometimes kills the magic.
Much to my surprise, my Midult brain seems to hold on to the plot. Not so efficiently that I could tell you what happened in the most recent episode (literally no idea, as I sit here, typing) but the old grey matter re-engages as the credits roll. And now I understand why they do that ‘previously on’ bit at the start.
It is rather a joy to have something to look forward to, un-tinged with the addict greed of knowing that you’re in for a ‘session’.
And I wonder if these shows are designed to be seen like a great big movie – where you fast forward all the ads and play that game to see if you can do x30 but hit play at precisely the moment the credit sequence turns into proper action. Comedies lose their charm a little when you gorge on them. Thrillers lose their grip on your imagination if you don’t have that uneasy ruminating, marinating time between episodes.
So I’ve gone old school and it feels rather nutritious. Yes, yes, I know it’s not an improving book. Were you a reader once too?