How Limited Series are Limiting Series

Anya Taylor Joy in The Queen’s Gambit                                                                     Tribune Content Agency

Have you felt unfulfilled lately while scrolling on Netflix? It may be because producers don’t want to make real shows anymore. 

Instead of taking risks on storylines and committing to multiple seasons, most major producers try to churn out limited series that offer limited bang for the viewer’s buck.

Stories are timeless, but how we engage with them changes with trends. For example, we don’t have many fictional radio shows like we did in the 1940s, but we have tons of podcasts. 

Visual storytelling operates the same way, but it feels like the bottom dollar has been prioritized over the audience lately. Don’t believe me? Look no further than what’s being made.

Movies aren’t profitable enough unless you can turn it into a cheap trilogy like “The Kissing Booth.” As a result, every film lately becomes a series.

Mini-series perform well, but you can’t add to the story without compromising its integrity (See: “Squid Game” season 2). As a loophole, spin-offs are made (See: the “Squid Game” competition show).

But what’s different about limited series?

At its core, a limited series is meant to be a standalone plot that spans a specific, limited amount of episodes. 

Think “The Queen’s Gambit.” Though the series is only seven episodes, it completely tells the story of Beth Harmon without feeling rushed or incomplete.

Unfortunately, most “limited series” made by Netflix, Hulu, etc. fail to live up to that shining example. Limited series now aren’t even always limited– at times, a “limited” series gets picked up for a second season. Other times, shows that are canceled after a single season are relabeled as a limited series.

Aside from the confusing labeling system, what’s the issue with limited series? 

When it isn’t done correctly, limited series are either surface-level or needlessly complex. Though it sounds contradictory, some limited series seem like a movie chopped up into ten episodes while others seem like four seasons condensed into four hours.

We need to prioritize form and structure just as much as we do character and plot. How can characters truly develop in limited series? How can relationships form? Where are the arcs that don’t offer immediate gratification?

We need to return to our sitcom roots. Give us filler episodes, bottle episodes, and holiday specials! Give us slow-burning tension between characters who won’t kiss for 50 episodes!

Above all, give us something to root for… for longer than a weekend.