There was once a time when, if you asked someone to tell you the difference between movies and television shows, they might reply with something about the scale or grandeur of the story. Or perhaps they would mention the artistry of the cinematography or the caliber of the acting or writing. Maybe it was the production value or the quality of the special effects. Whatever it was, one thing was clear: movies were almost always superior in nearly every way. They were the de facto king of the hill when it came to visual media.
In the modern era, this line of thinking has not only started to dissolve, but in many cases it’s even begun to flip wholly on its head. How is this possible? What does it mean for the industry as a whole? Let’s discuss!
A Brief History
So, as per usual in situations like this, I feel it’s best to begin this discussion by talking about what has traditionally always been the case when it comes to movies versus television shows.
As film was the first medium on the scene, it’s perhaps unsurprising that it became the star of the show. For a good many decades, if you wanted to see Moving Pictures, your only real option was to go to the cinema and see a traditional movie.
*And, just for clarity, when I speak about movies, I’m specifically talking about: “a narrative story told with moving pictures that typically occurs in one chunk over the course of one to three hours.” While there are films that are both shorter and longer than this, and exceptions to every rule – generally speaking, this is what has always constituted a film. That and, unsurprisingly, being shot on film stock (something that was done throughout most of film history because… well, it was the only way).
That all changed in the 1950s with the advent of the television set. With this one invention, it was suddenly possible for people to have visual media entertainment pumped directly into their homes. No longer was it necessary to have to make a special trip to be entertained – instead, they could relax in the comfort of their own home and enjoy entirely original tales made for the medium. Unlike their film counterparts, these stories were usually presented in one of three ways:
First, a television show might consist of a collection of short, self-contained stories that take place over the course of each episode. While characters and certain momentous events might carry over throughout a show’s lifetime, each individual story has a beginning, middle, and end all its own.
The second option involves having a long-form narrative that takes place throughout multiple episodes or seasons. In this case, while each individual episode might have many of the elements people have come to expect from a traditional story, they all bleed nicely into the next – in theory, creating a cohesive whole (aka. A much longer story than what could be found in film.) That said, as a consequence of this type of storytelling, particularly in the early days, there was typically a lot of filler and fluff. After all, television shows had to hit quotas of certain numbers of shows per year, and that meant a lot of time to fill.
The third and perhaps easiest methodology for telling stories in television shows was… Not to tell stories in television shows. These were typically shows like late-night talk shows or news programs – effectively anything that didn’t have a narrative and, thus, was uniquely distinct from anything found in film.
While all of these categories of television shows evolved throughout the medium’s lifespan – sometimes mixing and matching with one another to create entirely new hybrids – they roughly remained consistent.
Where Each Succeeded
While movies and television shows have many similarities, they were (for most of their lifetime) very distinct entities with very different goals.
Movies typically attempted to put their focus on powerful and resonant stories coupled with quality production values. (There might be drops or waivers in these sorts of broad-spectrum statements, particularly in regards to smaller studios or films, but generally speaking, that was the case.) Movies were, for lack of a better term, an event. Something you looked forward to and that was crafted with expertise to evoke strong emotions.
Television, on the other hand, was more often than not viewed as a smaller-scale medium meant to tell more limited stories better suited for quick, bite-sized entertainment to pass the time. This is not to say that you couldn’t enjoy the characters or worlds seen on the screen, but just that they were – typically -, when compared to their cinematic brethren, much more limited in scope and craft.
*One could argue that this was a result of the fact that television shows were meant to be aired only once and then never seen again – whereas films often ran in the cinemas for months or even years on end… Before eventually becoming impossible to watch ever again (at least, until the advent of home media).
These differences may also all be related to the ways in which these mediums were shot. Movies were typically filmed with a singular camera that would be placed with purpose in the scene, with each shot specifically lit and considered. In television, this was most certainly not the case. Shows were typically shot on soundstages using multiple cameras at a time. This allowed them to be shot more quickly, as it meant that you could capture several angles and actors all at once.
To do this, it also meant that the entire scene had to be lit evenly so that anything in the frame would be visible and clear. While this was certainly effective at simplifying the production process, it also had the effect of striping a lot of the visual flair from what was shot – after all, the artists here weren’t being as deliberate about camera or lighting placements: they were only concerned with capturing a usable image.
Couple this lack of visual artistry with the smaller-scale stories being told and it was no surprise that the experience of viewing something on a small screen in your home was often viewed as a lesser experience and, thus, a lesser medium. (Keep in mind that lesser doesn’t always mean bad, just lesser than.)
And it would remain this way for most of television’s life. That is, until more recently…
Enter Prestige TV
The term prestige TV is a relatively new one in the grand scheme of things. It first became bandied about in the early 2000s, particularly when referring to the television shows put out by HBO – especially The Sopranos. Unlike much of the content found on Network or even cable channels, The Sopranos was shot with a single camera. Lighting and stylistic choices seemed very intentional and artistic, often invoking similar scenes and situations from films such as The Godfather. Not only that, but the acting on the show was top-notch. High-caliber performances were being used to bring to life fascinating and complex characters.
Moreover, due to the structure of hour-long episodes comprising an entire season of a show, the writers were free to delve deeper into the morally complex world and characters they had created. It allowed the audience to get a better sense of who these people were on a deeper level and allowed the stories to be more methodical – to fill the world with additional layers and characters that would be otherwise impossible within the shorter runtime allotted by films.
While other premium channels like Showtime, STARZ, and Cinemax, began following suit (to varying degrees of success), Network and cable channels also started to take notice. As a result, big-budget, expansive shows like LOST on ABC started to crop up: with large casts, known actors, and rich storylines, they showed that the medium was capable of delivering some truly impressive stories, even within the limits of non-premium channels.
Breaking Bad, Dexter, Deadwood – the beginning of the new millennium was a renaissance for unique, original characters and stories. Studios and networks were willing to take risks on ideas that, due to their inherent complexity and sometimes moral ambiguity, would be very difficult to contain within the limits of the runtime of a single film. They realized that what was once a shackle – the necessity of having to fill an entire season with story, often resulting in filler to pad the length – had become an asset. They then started using this considerably longer period of time to endear the characters to the audience in a way previously impossible. They were able to weave complicated and intricate stories that took their time and unspooled over seasons or years.
In essence, what they had truly found was the ability to use the increased runtime of television to add untold layers of depth – far more than what could be fit into 90 minutes alone and light-years beyond what the medium had previously been known for.
TV and Movies: Switching Sides
While all of this was happening in the television sector, something completely different was happening to movies. As special effects continued to improve and computer-generated imagery became the dominant form of creating visual spectacle for the big screen, more and more films began to lean on it as their primary hook for the audience: “Come see the grand spectacle! Be impressed by the sheer scope of what there is to see!”
Don’t get me wrong – to a certain degree, this was always the hook of the cinema. Epic stories. However, with the rise of such complex narratives being delivered straight to people’s homes in the form of television (and then later streaming), movies began to rely more heavily on visual spectacle and less on the inherent weight of the stories they were telling. After all, it was far more profitable to rake in nearly $1 billion at the box office with the latest Transformers or Marvel film than it was to try and entice people to leave their homes to see a simple romantic comedy or drama. These types of stories were now quite commonplace on television and, thus, had a lower perceived value to potential audiences. People had so many choices and never even had to leave their homes to be taken on interesting and twisting storylines. So, how can you convince them to give you $8 to $20 for two hours of their time? By going as big as possible, of course!
Inevitably, this meant that blockbusters became the de facto genre of the medium. Sure, horror and comedy films were still being made (and certain production houses have absolutely benefited by leaning into these), but the biggest releases of the year were almost always the tent pole films with the correspondingly biggest budgets. In fact, movies were now selling people on the idea that they could come have a “short-term” singular and exciting experience that didn’t require they commit years to watching. This is in direct opposition to television, which was now enticing people with the idea of being able to experience long-form stories with interesting characters that oftentimes required a sizable commitment of time.
When coupled together, it’s clear to see that this is a complete reversal of how these mediums originally began: where film was the medium with the deep, long-form stories and television was comprised of bite-size escapism.
The irony of such a flip was even further exacerbated when the trend of “cinematic universes” – started in its current incarnation by Marvel’s MCU – began to treat each individual film as not only a story in and of itself, but as a smaller part of a larger whole. Sure, you could show up to the theater to see what Doctor Strange was up to on his own, but you were just as much there to see how all of this was leading to the next big event – be that fighting Ultron or taking on the mad titan himself. By creating this cohesive whole, studios were able to convince moviegoers to see films that they perhaps otherwise might have skipped. After all, no one wants to miss an important part of the story they’re already following.
And if you’re thinking this all sounds a lot like narrative long-form television – you’re not wrong. In fact, that’s almost exactly what it is. In a sense, films within these larger cinematic universes oftentimes feel more like an episode of a very expensive TV show than they do a complete and meaningful standalone experience. Not only does this remove the weight and power once held by the distinction between movies and TV shows, but it also gets even more complicated when you throw in spectacle-heavy shows like Game of Thrones and Stranger Things now produced by the likes of HBO and Netflix, respectively.
In these shows, the long-form and deep storytelling associated with prestige TV is combined with budgets and effects quality once exclusive to the medium of film. In these cases, audiences would be hard-pressed not to be awed by the visual spectacle of the battles taking place in Westeros or of the Hellfire Club fighting the supernatural forces of the Upside Down.
in essence, the stories are modern hybrids. Tales that, while still categorized within the medium of television, also share nearly as much in common with the traditional domain of film… And they’re only becoming more common.
Conclusion
Because of all the above, it’s become increasingly difficult to draw a line, however blurry it may be, between what constitutes film as a medium and how it’s different from that of television. The cross-contamination of rich storylines, impressive effects, and ongoing series can’t help but muddy the waters of one’s ability to discern one from the next.
At the same time, each of them has managed to absorb and reflect many of the same values once exclusive to the other. In this way, they have almost entirely flipped the script on what their traditional intentions were. Movies are now (generally) meant to be singular, one-off experiences with less depth, while television shows are seen as long-form engines of complex narrative storytelling.
This doesn’t mean, however, that all movies must necessarily lack depth nor that all television shows have to have an intricate web of plotlines constantly assaulting the viewer. There are still simple comedies and episodic dramas just as there are still powerful and emotionally affecting films. It’s just that, in the modern world, these are more often than not the exceptions to the rule rather than the staple expectations they once were.
And while it would be easy for me to sit here and pontificate as to whether this is better or worse for the industry or whether we as viewers should be disheartened or excited about these changes, at the end of the day, this isn’t the final incarnation for either medium. Just as they always have, they will both continue to evolve alongside changes in public perception and the advancement of technology.
As movies continue to premiere and be watched at home and shows continue to expand what it means to be “television,” the lines will no doubt get blurrier. Does this mean that one day the distinction might entirely disappear, replaced with the singular moniker of “visual media?” That the length or cost of a particular story will become irrelevant and that viewers will only care that the media they’re watching is portrayed in the form and time necessary to best do it justice?
I genuinely have no idea. But, I will say, given humanity‘s penchant for loving labels and categories, it seems unlikely that we will ever truly do away with the distinction between movies and television. It’s just that the factors that comprise that distinction might not mean what they do today – just as they don’t mean today what they once did.
After all, the only thing that doesn’t change is the fact that things always change.
chris