Last week, I left off with the question: if I were given the chance to produce a TV or film adaptation of my series, knowing that it would surely outpace my production of the original content, should I wait or take advantage of the moment?
As an artist, I would choose to wait. I have a vision for how the storyline should play out, and no one will be able to understand that vision better than myself. I don’t mean to say it is the best vision. Such a proposition is impossible to accomplish, as it involves variables that are subjective to each viewer. This is why fan spin-offs exist. But ultimately, there should be some kind of direction rather than none, otherwise that generates another kind of criticism. Hence, it is reasonable to follow the original creator’s direction. A vision that is “faithful” to the one who composed that universe. Given the confusion casual viewers have about which Fullmetal series to watch, that is not a destiny I am keen on following for my life project.
However, as a producer, it would be a difficult decision. Not only would I be concerned about the look and feel, but also the logistics and financing. As a producer, I cannot purely be an artist, I must be a designer as well. In my current state of mind, if such an opportunity came, I would most likely choose to take advantage of the excitement. I am not confident with the current state of media consumption to wait a few years. Especially if I’m not a household name. The attention span is just too short. People browse through shows just as they would when window shopping, back when that was a thing. This is a consequence of the rapid pace at which content is generated and distributed today thanks to the world wide web. I’m not necessarily against this trend, as it opens more doors. But now, there are more doors to choose from, and I better choose them well.
There’s a chance things will change. No, I am certain the industry will change. The rate of change is too rapid for prolonged stagnation. Just a decade and a half ago, smartphones were not much of a thing. Now, they’re everywhere. In comparison, it took the internet several decades to become as ubiquitous as the smartphone has. Granted, those two technologies are not apples-to-apples, but it gives a sense of the rate of change.
Here’s one change I think a lot about nowadays. Many services are trending towards subscription-based models rather than one-time purchases or rental. Adobe bundled their apps under the Creative Cloud subscription rather than selling CDs and licensing keys for thousands of dollars each. Netflix moved on to content streaming rather than renting out discs through snail mail. HBO, traditionally a television network, has their own streaming service too. And Hulu. And Amazon. Disney. Spotify streams music. So does Tidal. YouTube Premium provides ad-free viewership and access to Premium shows. YouTube also has music. EA Origin Access gives subscribers, well, access to a library of games for a monthly fee. Same with Google Stadia, except the games are hosted on their own servers. Even Apple wants to join the service game with Apple TV+ and Apple Arcade. See where this is going?
Now in terms of animated series, it makes me wonder if remasters would be more viable in a world of streaming services. If a scene or episode needs some adjustments, what if the studio could make the necessary changes and send them off to the streaming services? If content is streamed rather than bought as physical copies, the vast majority of viewers will see this new version. Only torrenters and other forms of illegitimate acquisition would see the old. This would be great for studios who started with a lower budget, but now has the means and viewership to go back and refine its earliest episodes. The risk with this strategy is overusing it to the point of diminishing returns. It would be easy to overdo it and pick on the little details too often, or change something for the worse. It could also be tempting to rush the episodes, not doing such a great job, then fixing them later after the initial release. I could see people reminiscing of the “good ol days” back when people put in their 100% at the start. Having this flexibility could also tempt remake levels of revisions to be made to components such as the script and voice acting to fix inconsistencies or remove an actor that simply wasn’t convenient for the series’ or studio’s image. Does it diminish the value of a director’s skill to nail the writing from the start? Is it a skill worthy of valuing? After all, many books have editions where the author revises their writing. The difference here is that I’m proposing the older “editions” would be lost and the cycle of revisions would be constant, like the always-on connection to the world wide web. Video games are almost expected to follow this process, with massively popular games such as Fortnite and League of Legends. They are expected to churn out new “editions,” or patches, every month, and it’s not like those older patches are available in some archive to return to at a later date.
This is a conflicting question for me to decide upon, as I would love the flexibility, yet I value the perceptive skill to nail the story rather than winging it and fixing up the leaks later. There is bound to be some substantial, negative consequences from this kind of always-changing environment. Documenting history would be a pain, just like gaming as a service is to gaming history. Using this process could face backlash, both from talent and the audience, similar to the introduction of CGI. Nevertheless, the prospect makes me excited, even though I’m sure there are logistics I don’t know about that may make this future insensible to justify. I have a specific vision I want to execute, and if this is an option, then sacrificing a little vision to deliver the product will be a little less world-breaking.
To wrap this up, is it sensible to remaster an animated series? As of today, no. Not unless you’re a big name in the saturated pool of entertainment. As streaming becomes ever increasingly ubiquitous? That depends heavily on audience and industry sentiment. Producers and distributors won’t adopt this strategy unless it’s financially advantageous to them, and just as importantly, if they believe, or observed, the target audience’s sentiment and cultural values would permit them to get away with this process without pushback or loss of viewership. I could see how the audience might think of a remaster, executed five to ten years after the series’ premiere, as an attack on their safe zone; as if the creators are trying to bury the past, their childhood memories, with a revised vision to fit the generation of viewers after them. But just as I’ve done with my other rambles, I now open the conversation to your thoughts. What is your sentiment on this prospective future, and how feasible do you believe it to be?