This week in TV land, because who needs movies, right? We’ve got a slew of new shows and seasons to dive into, because apparently, 500 channels and streaming services just aren’t enough. The Paper, a spinoff of The Office, returns for its second season, because the world was just missing a show about the inner workings of an Ohio newspaper. I mean, who doesn’t want to watch a bunch of reporters “gradually mature” as they navigate the thrilling world of journalism? It’s not like we’ve seen that before in every other newspaper-themed show or movie ever made.
The new season of The Paper premieres on September 9 on Peacock, because of course it does. Because what’s a streaming service without a plethora of shows about office politics and quirky coworkers? Meanwhile, the final season of Colin From Accounts, an Australian series that has apparently been an international hit since its debut in 2022, drops on September 10 on Paramount+. This show follows a couple who meet after one of them accidentally strikes a dog with their car, because that’s exactly the kind of meet-cute we all want to watch.
In other news, Made in Korea, a South Korean crime thriller, returns for its second season on Hulu, because who doesn’t love a good smuggler-turned-secret-agent story? And on Netflix, we’ve got Dang!, an animated series about squabbling siblings, because the world was just missing a show about dysfunctional family dynamics. And because Netflix loves to cancel shows after one season, we’ve also got Crew Girl, a drama about high school rowing, which promises to deliver “a lot of drama, a lot of abs, a lot of rowing.” Because that’s exactly what I want to watch – a bunch of teenagers in spandex, rowing.
The Never-Ending Content Cycle
It’s a never-ending cycle, folks. New shows and seasons, new streaming services and platforms, new ways to consume the same old content. The Content Mines remain fully operational, churning out show after show, season after season, because that’s what the algorithms demand. And we, the loyal viewers, are just along for the ride, consuming whatever is fed to us, because that’s what we do. We watch, we binge, we forget, and then we move on to the next thing, because there’s always something new to watch.
And don’t even get me started on the marketing. Every trailer is apparently “the most anticipated event of the decade,” every show is “game-changing,” and every season is “the most epic yet.” It’s all just a bunch of empty hype, designed to get us excited about the next big thing. But let’s be real, folks, most of these shows will be canceled after one season, and we’ll all just move on to the next thing, because that’s what we do.
The Familiarity Trap
Hollywood has once again mistaken familiarity for originality. We’ve got remakes, reboots, and spinoffs galore, because why take a risk on something new when you can just rehash the same old ideas? It’s a safe bet, right? I mean, who needs originality when you can just rely on nostalgia to carry your show or movie? The Franchise Resurrection Department is one of Hollywood’s busiest offices, because there’s always another beloved franchise to revive, another intellectual property to extract from its natural habitat.
And don’t even get me started on the merchandising opportunities. Somewhere, a whiteboard contains the words “bigger,” “darker,” and “multiverse,” because that’s what the merchandising department demands. It’s all about the benjamins, baby, and if we can just slap a familiar logo on a t-shirt or a toy, we’ll make a killing. The Merchandising Department reportedly approved the decision before the writers did, because that’s how it works in Hollywood.
In the end, it’s all just a big game, folks. A game of cat and mouse, where the studios try to outdo each other with bigger, flashier, more expensive shows and movies, and we, the viewers, are just along for the ride. So, go ahead, binge-watch the latest shows, buy the merchandise, and attend the fan conventions. But just remember, in the immortal words of the great philosopher, Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Or, you know, you could just watch Netflix.
Finn McFrame, celebrated satirical mastermind and self-proclaimed “Emperor of Irony,” started his illustrious career as a cinematographer, where his expertise in capturing every single frame of a squirrel stealing a baguette earned him accolades at obscure film festivals.
Born in the glamorous town of Boring, Oregon, Finn grew up with dreams of being a Hollywood director until he realized that satire, not cinema, was his true calling—or at least the one that let him sleep until noon.
Finn McFrame: changing the world, one satirical lens flare at a time.
