By Greg Guma
For the Star Trek generation – which should also cover most Baby Boomers
– the notion of a single cool, compact device that delivers all imagined media
functions has been a captivating vision of the future. Just push a button and,
presto, you see whatever info you need. But now that we’re well into an era of
media convergence, that’s apparently no longer the goal. Instead, devices are proliferating,
while information and stories are conveyed across more and more platforms.
Some predict extinction for the “old media.” But will books really disappear
because of the new digital options? Not likely, since printed books do seem to deliver
a unique experience. Then again, so do handheld devices, laptop computers and home
theaters, among others. What seems to be
happening, for the moment anyway, is a rough and tumble multi-platform co-existence,
and the drivers include culture, economics and technology.
For corporate media giants it’s a matter of synergy, the ability to
develop and market their franchises across various divisions. But convergence
is also turning more media “consumers” into active participants – as engaged fans,
volunteer distributors, and, increasingly, producers of content. As Middlebury
College student Aaron Smith noted in a 2009 study of “Transmedia storytelling
for Television 2.0,” the processes of convergence “form a perfect incubator for
transmedia stories to flourish, setting the stage for narratives to flow across
media platforms.” This in turn is changing how both creators and consumers see the
storytelling process.
These issues and more will be explored in Vermont on April 26-28 at Transmedia:The Future of Storytelling Across Platforms, a weekend film festival in White
River Junction. In addition to the screening of seven feature films, the festival
will include hands-on workshops and presentations that examine the intersection
of filmmaking, writing and web design for interactive and user-generated
storytelling.
One of the earliest to notice our changing media landscape was Henry
Jenkins, currently teaching and writing at the University of South California after
a decade as director of MIT’s Comparative Media Studies Program. In 1992, for
example, Jenkins noted the impact of fan culture as more people began
appropriating and “repurposing” content for their own amusement. Twenty years
later it’s common for fans of a TV show, film or book to interact with the
creators and artists through social media.
Jenkins calls transmedia a set of choices about how to tell “a
particular story to a particular audience in a particular context depending on
the particular resources available to particular producers.” What he specifically excludes from this
definition is “business as usual” projects that are “simply slapping a
transmedia label on the same old franchising practices we’ve seen for decades.”
In an influential 2007 essay, "Transmedia Storytelling 101," Jenkins
described a process in which “integral elements of a fiction get dispersed
systematically across multiple delivery channels for the purpose of creating a
unified and coordinated entertainment experience. Ideally, each medium makes it
own unique contribution to the unfolding of the story.” Most such stories aren’t based on individual
characters or specific plots, he argued, but on “complex worlds which can
sustain multiple interrelated characters and stories.”
Because this type of storytelling requires coordination across media, he
believes it has worked best either for indie projects where one artist shapes
the story across all media involved, or those where strong collaboration is
encouraged across divisions of the same company.
New media tools have reduced production costs, removed some of the distribution
barriers, and expanded the range of delivery channels. At the same time,
however, concentration of ownership continues to accelerate. Global corporations like Viacom, News Corp,
Disney and Time Warner all have divisions creating films, TV, video games and
comics. This gives them the ability, and an enormous economic incentive, to
produce and market productions across various platforms.
But branding and repetition aren’t usually enough to assure success.
Along with convergence has come another dynamic, the attraction of “divergent
narratives,” ones that extent stories and characters through social media,
games, magazines, newspapers, and other channels. Viewers increasingly follow their favorites
online, download episodes or webisodes, and use syndication platforms like
Hulu. You can watch – and learn about the back story, the production and
players—whenever you want on a smart phone or streamed to your TV screen. Some shows, particularly sci fi and fantasy,
urge viewers to “synch” up and participate online as they watch episodes.
This shift in how people consume media – especially films and serial
stories – also seems to be “unbundling” them; that is, the primary object in
the exchange isn’t always a CD, DVD, newspaper or TV channel. Very often it is
a specific article, episode or scene, sometimes just a brief clip or single track.
You obtain it however you can, then share it and perhaps add a comment. Whether this improves communication or adds to
human knowledge remains to be seen.
On the other hand, it’s much easier these days to create or manipulate
photos, video and music; in effect, to become an independent content producer.
As Jenkins sees it, the power of this participation isn’t mainly its potential
to challenge the dominant commercial culture, but rather the ability to write
over it, to remix, remold, amend and extend it – and then re-circulate a new creation,
possibly even crossing back into the “mainstream” media.
For corporate media, one early model of transmedia storytelling emerged
out of the NBC series Homicide: Life on the Street. In 1997, a cross-platform
episode began with the investigation of a webcast killing. Detectives from the “Second
Shift” closed the case on the Internet only to have it re-opened on the next Homicide
TV broadcast. The case concluded online the following week. Each part made
sense, but crossing platforms enhanced the experience.
Two years later, two productions marked transmedia’s full emergence as a
cultural force. The two could barely be more different.
First, in March 1999, came The Matrix, the iconic movie franchise later
extended into an online game, comic books and anime films, along the way contributing
enduring memes and phrases. Rather than offering adaptations of the original
material, each project added something new. The video game wasn’t well received,
and the connection of Parts 2 and 3: Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions, to transmedia
content left some film viewers in the dark. However, those who crossed
platforms got the full effect.
The summer after the first Matrix film, The Blair Witch Project became a cultural phenomenon, and
soon one of the biggest low budget successes in film history. The key ingredient
was a website. Established a year before the film was released, it extended the
story with alleged sightings, faux-documentaries and other devices designed to
make the events seem real. Blair Witch
demonstrated the power of a devoted fan base and effective multi-platform promotion
and storytelling.
Since then, shows like Heroes and Lost have attempted something
similar, spreading their narrative across platforms, while Canada’s ReGenesis,
a mystery series about bio-terrorism, used a website to let viewers become “field
agents” and play an extended reality game. Two new post-apocalypse TV shows, Revolution
and Defiance, currently urge viewers to synch up as new episodes air. There’s something about sci fi that lends
itself to extensions and interactivity.
Still, the transmedia revolution has been relatively slow, in part due
to a 2007 writer’s strike just as the power of multi-platform storytelling was
being noticed. The big studios nevertheless argued that streaming video and
other “ancillary” content is just promotional, and thus declined to offer writers
much in residual payments. The theory is that Guild writers haven’t done their
best work since because they aren’t being fully compensated. Perhaps. But it
could also be true that, regardless of how much money is involved, it isn’t that
easy to do.
Ideally, a transmedia story invites the consumer to gradually discover
a world across various media, layer by layer, and perhaps also interact with
it. It encourages examination and ongoing investigation. But this means attention,
involvement, and enough ability and time to follow a narrative across various
platforms – at least to fully appreciate or understand it. Well, you can rule out my mom, anyone not
online, and most folks over 60.
It’s a perfect approach for some projects, especially those hoping to
tap into a base of collective knowledge or interest. But it’s not for everyone,
and there will always be works of singular vision that, though they may be
adaptable, aren’t necessarily improved by extension. Sometimes the best media experience is just to
plow straight through to the end, then “close the book” and see what’s next.
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