The definition of what constitutes a single "season" of television used to be simple. It was 20-something episodes of any given show that were shot consecutively and would begin airing in fall and run regularly, with certain weeks off for things like the holidays, all the way through spring. Then the show would take the summer off, replaced by either reruns or special programming, only to come back with a brand new season in the fall.
That's obviously gone through a metamorphosis in recent years, most notably in regards to how many episodes make up a season. Thirteen episodes became the cable norm for a while, and now you'll see seasons as small as ten episodes or even less. (The just-ended season of HBO's The Newsroom included only nine.) Meanwhile, some networks began splitting seasons into two halfs, the first of which would run continuously, with no weeks off, in the fall while the latter half, after a break, would resume in late winter or spring. (AMC's The Walking Dead is an example of a show that currently does this.) Ultimately, though, those two halfs would still promoted as a single season and would eventually be packaged together as one season for DVD release.
But now, thanks to AMC, the definition of a television "season" has grown even murkier, and it's no longer just a matter of semantics. Viewers are actually getting screwed over, courtesy of the language.
Here's the deal: When AMC officially announced the fifth and final season of Breaking Bad, they revealed the season would be split in two with part one consisting of eight episodes to air summer 2012 while part two, also eight eps, would air summer 2013 — one full year later. Now, traditionally, no one would consider that a single season of television. Despite the low episode count, two groups of episodes separated by a full year would have to be considered two separate seasons. This is especially true when you consider the Breaking Bad production team wrote and produced each batch of episodes separately, as if they were creating two different seasons. Part one had a clear and completed arc that felt like a finished entity unto itself, as has part two.
So why then would AMC bother calling both parts "season five"? Here's why: Money. These days, what gets designated a "season" is all contractual, and no doubt AMC saved money by agreeing to pay Sony and the Breaking Bad talent a rate consistent with a single season of television. (Yes, many of those people are paid by the episode, not by the season, but it's still easy to guess AMC execs got the deal they wanted by putting all of those episodes under a single-season umbrella.) In a recent Nerdist podcast that Breaking Bad showrunner Vince Gilligan did to promote the series, he even makes a passing joke about how it's thanks to the lawyers that he needs to address these final episodes as "season five."
The fact is, letting contracts determine what constitutes a season of television seems dumb, and it opens the curtain a bit so we can peak at the soulless corporate machine operating behind the shows we love. But, at the same time, does it really matter how we label a group of episodes? Well, it didn't … until Apple decided that folks who bought an iTunes season pass for the "fifth season" of Breaking Bad were only going to get access to the season's first half. And now an Ohio resident named Noam Lazebnik is suing Apple for breach of contract.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'm against this kind of frivolous lawsuit, but, in this case, I actually hope Lazebnik wins, or at least gets Apple to re-evaluate how they handle their season passes. Look, I realize Apple and AMC are non-related companies and that Apple had no hand in AMC deciding to contractually bind what appear to be two separate seasons together as one. But it strikes me as extremely unfair that, at the front end of this, AMC is allowed to save money by declaring, in writing, that this is one single season of television, and then, on the back end, Apple can say, "Nuh-uh! Sorry! It's two seasons. If you want to see it all, you have to pay us twice." It's even worse that Apple customers didn't realize that the second half of season five wouldn't be included as part of their season-five pass until after those episodes became available.
On top of that, it turns outs that while AMC may contractually consider these last eight episodes the second half of season five, the network isn't promoting them that way. All the advertising for the last eight hours has branded them not as "season five, part two," but as "the final episodes." And a "season five" DVD containing only the technical first half of the season is now available to buy, making it seem like it's a complete season unto itself. Coupled with the Apple fiasco, this all gives the appearance of being extremely sketchy, like something underhanded is going on. In poker, there's this phrase — "angle-shooting" — that means trying to gain an unfair advantage despite technically playing within the rules. That's what it feels like AMC and Apple are doing here — angle-shooting.
And, apparently, AMC wants to keep on doing it, as they just announced the 14-episode final season of Mad Men will also be split in half, with the first seven episodes airing in 2014 and the final seven in 2015. This seems even worse than the Breaking Bad split. For starters, limiting a season to just seven hours is ridiculous. (And, yes, it's a season in execution, even if it's just a half-season in name.) One of the joys of television is seeing storylines play out over the long haul. With enough hours, good writers can allow TV characters to grow and change in an infinite number of fantastic and interesting ways. But, as TV seasons keep shrinking, you lose some of that, and series begin to more closely resemble movies in terms of plot — more focused, but sometimes less rewarding. The bare minimum of what constitutes a season of television should really be eight episodes. And that's being generous. I think shows like The Shield and Justified have proven than 13 is really ideal. That's long enough to tell an appropriately epic story, but not too long that you end up with filler episodes padding out the season.
Additionally, unlike with Breaking Bad, the final season of Mad Men will be produced all at once as one season. There's no reason AMC couldn't run it a single full season — 14 episodes, straight through, as creator Matt Weiner almost assuredly intended. They just don't want to because it's more profitable this way and, perhaps even more importantly, it allows them to keep their most culturally relevant show "active" for as long as possible. AMC execs figure it's a no-lose proposition to sit on that last half-season of Mad Men rather than give it to you when it's ready. It's not like the people who have watched Mad Men for this long are going to skip the final seven episodes out of protest.
It makes you want to root for Netflix, doesn't it? The DVD-rental and movie-streaming company got into the TV business this year by offering original series such as House of Cards, Orange is the New Black and a new season of Arrested Development. They took the unusual tack of releasing the entire season of each show all at once, so viewers could binge-watch the shows if they wanted (emulating how some folks choose to watch series on DVD). Originally, I wasn't sold on the concept. Part of the joy of television is experiencing that excruciating wait after a particular cliffhanger, be it seven days or many months, to see what comes next. (And to be clear, that wait is the deliberate intention of the writers, not the network.) It's then that you talk over what you just saw with fellow viewers and put together theories about what might come next. It's part of the fun of television, and Netflix eliminated it by offering up all 13 episodes of a show at once.
But, honestly, if the alternative is to let AMC execs string people along for no other reason than to bolster their network's image and pocketbook — as well as giving Apple the opportunity to screw viewers over — then I'd rather the whole business move toward the Netflix model. It may not be ideal for old-school TV watchers like me, but at least it's up front and honest. Plus, we know exactly what qualifies as a season of television.
UPDATE: Apple has admitted they were in the wrong and are now offering the final eight episodes of Breaking Bad free to those who purchased the season-five pass. An email being sent to customers states: "We apologize for any confusion the naming of 'Season 5' and 'The Final Season' of Breaking Bad might have caused you. While the names of the seasons and episodes associated with them were not chosen by iTunes, we'd like to offer you 'The Final Season' on us by providing you with the iTunes code below or the amount of $22.99. This credit can also be used for any other content on the iTunes Store. Thank you for your purchase."
