Monday, September 7, 2026

The Flaw in the Well-Made Play

 Gustav Freytag isn't a name that pops up in dinner conversations very often, but back a few decades ago when I was teaching media analysis at NC State, I spent a lot of time with him.  You see back in 1872 he wrote a book called The Technique of the Drama, which gave us Freytag's Pyramid or the model of the well-made play.  It looks like this:



I'll unpack it in a moment, but first let me explain what brought me to this post.  Here at home we tend to stream either "continuing series," like  Professor T and Reacher or "limited series" like those Harlan Coban shows that have a few episodes. It is in those programs that the flaw in the well-made play rears its frustrating head. [Interesting aside. I just saw on some site or another, that Coban has just published a book called Plot Twist in which he discusses his writing process. I look forward to checking it out.]

So back to the pyramid. The exposition these days is usually provided by the opening montage - that series of visual clips featuring the main characters accompanied by the theme music. Most shows, thankfully, give us the option to skip the exposition and jump right to the inciting incident which is when the caper begins - the body is found, the diamonds are stolen, whatever - something disrupts the lives of the protagonists who are called into action.  The rising action or complication  traces the protagonists actions necessary to catch the bad guys - which happens at the climax, shoot-out, fight, clever capture, etc.  The falling action, resolution and denouement are the bits of action and dialogue that returns us to the calm of the exposition, ready for the inciting incident that will open the next episode. 

It works. Go ahead and plot the next episode of your favorite show. See?  And that is the flaw. It works too well. We get hooked on a particular show and we don't want it to end. So the producers just keep 'em coming! To steal some examples:
  • Daytime Soap Operas: Shows like Days of Our Lives (streaming on Peacock) and The Young and the Restless have tens of thousands of episodes spanning multiple decades.
  • Long-Running Animated Series: The Simpsons has over 760 episodes [0.5] and streams via platforms like Disney+.

  • Primetime Procedurals: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit has over 500 episodes and is widely available across multiple streaming apps like Hulu and Peacock.

  • Grey's Anatomy: Among popular binge-watched primetime serialized dramas on Netflix and Hulu, Grey's Anatomy leads with well over 400 episodes.
and
  1. The Office (US): 201 episodes, streaming on major subscription services.
  2. Friends: 236 episodes, available on platforms like HBO Max.
  3. Seinfeld: 180 episodes, streaming online.
  4. Supernatural: 318 episodes, available to stream.
  5. Criminal Minds: Over 350 episodes, streaming on Paramount+.
  6. The X-Files: 218 episodes, available on streaming platforms.
  7. Lost: 121 episodes, available on various subscription video services.
  8. Gilmore Girls: 153 episodes, popular for re-watching on demand.
OK, you get the idea. But here is the problem. You get to know the pyramid the writers use as well as they do, and soon you know pretty much how each episode will unfold right after the initial incident. Boooooorrrrring!  So you hunt a new series, which also gets boring after the first 30 or 40 episodes.

So you give up and try actually reading books in the same genres.
  • De Cock Series by A.C. Baantjer & Peter Römer: 86+ novels following Amsterdam police detective Jurre de Cock. Baantjer wrote the first 70 books, and Peter Römer took over the De Cock Series after his passing.
  • The Amelia Peabody Series by Elizabeth Peters: 20 novels (plus companion books) following the intrepid Victorian archaeologist and sleuth Amelia Peabody across Egypt.
  • The Hercule Poirot Series by Agatha Christie: 34 novels (and 50+ short stories) featuring the famous Belgian private detective.
  • The Hamish MacBeth Series by M.C. Beaton: 36 books about a laid-back Scottish Highland police constable.
  • The Stephanie Plum Series by Janet Evanovich: 30+ books following the lovable New Jersey bounty hunter.
And:

Harry Bosch Series 24+ Books: Written by Michael Connelly, this series follows Hieronymus "Harry" Bosch, an LAPD homicide detective.

The In Death Series written by J.D. Robb (the pseudonym for Nora Roberts) is one of the absolute giants of the police procedural genre, currently standing at 63 novels.

The Aloysius Pendergast thriller series by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child consists of 23 primary books starting with Relic in 1995.

And my beat goes on - and my sister could give you more!  

I never thought I would recommend the Harry Potter series for its brevity! However, I would also recommend Rowling's mysteries - written under the name Robert Galbraith. There are 8 of them - but compared to the lists above that shows admirable restraint.

So why do we do it? Why do we seek out these repetitive narratives? Why do we follow these fictional protagonists through their increasingly predictable lives? Will Susie Glass and the Duke finally get together in season three of The Gentlemen? Oops. [I digress, but I'm thinking yes.] So why will I watch? Because it is comfortable.

There is a sub-genre of mysteries called "cozies" which Wikipedia tells us are: a lighthearted sub-genre of crime fiction featuring amateur sleuths, small close-knit communities, and zero graphic violence or explicit content.

I would assert that all the programs and novels I mention in this post are cozies. Not because they fit Wikipedia's definition - as many of them, particularly in the "hard boiled" and "action-thriller" sub-genres - do not. It is their predicability - as revealed by Freytag's model - that makes them "cozy." They are old friends. We know what will happen - not the specifics, but the steps that will unfold taking us from the inciting incident to the resolution. Like a roller-coaster our author will toss our protagonists through some engaging plot twists, but in the end we pull into the platform from which we departed - perhaps a bit bloody, but unbowed - ready for our next ride.

One might think that, tired of the chaos, we might turn to another sub-genre - the single work, the stand alone novel. One story, one protagonist. I have tried it with several "stand alones." And even if the work is excellent, at the end, part of me starts humming that old Peggy Lee song, Is that all There Is?