Fixing Carnivale

HBO?s marketing group is polling viewers of Carnivale, very likely in an effort to improve the show?s ratings. (Despite a strong premiere, only about half of the initial audience stuck around for the first season?s final episode.)

Search no more, Carnivale producers! Here?s what you need to do to fix the show:

1) Continue exploring your great characters, but do so in ways that move the story forward. Ben Hawkins, Justin Crowe, Samson, Clayton Jones, Sofie, and Ruthie all offer us compelling backstories and complex motivations. Your writers have created strong characters ? but the current storylines give them too little of consequence to do.

Example: in the episode, ?Black Blizzard,? we were treated to extended characterization of Samson (who visits the prostitute) and Sofie (who has a sexual encounter in town). While a story like this one gives us a lot of insight into these two characters, the characterization, as presented, doesn?t move the story forward. You must find ways to reveal character and, at the same time, advance the story.

The fix: if you can leave out a sequence (like Samson?s visit to the prostitute) and there?s no impact on the overal direction the story is taking ? then the sequence needs to be left out.

2) When you build up, deliver. Frankly? The majority of first season episodes were like a disappointing hootchie-koochie show: all jiggle and no blow-off. Portents abound. Mysterious questions arise. Babylon looms. Ben?s dreams become more vivid. Justin realizes more about his own nature.

In each case, though, the show teased us with promised revelations and confrontations that never happened. By the time the ninth person hisses, ?Ben, you?re the one,? the announcement loses any impact. Raising questions is great ? but you must answer some. The violence at Babylon was, in many ways shocking ? but seemed to have very little to do with advancing Ben or Justin?s story. Ben?s dreams are creepy, but unless they get wedded quickly to real events that force difficult decisions (something they finally seemed to do in the season finale), they do little more than slow the storytelling. Justin can show numerous people visions of their worst sins, but, at some point, he?s got to start taking action on his own behalf.

The fix: Early in an episode, set up a question. Later in the same episode, provide enough of an answer to justify the investment of an hour spent watching the program. Also, early in each episode, set up a problem or conflict, let key characters respond to it, and include in the same episode the consequences of their actions.

3) Decide what the story is about. Frankly, as the relationships between Clayton and Rita Sue or Sophie and Libby prove, a show providing a realistic glimpse into the brutal lives of Dust Bowl-era carnies could be really gripping. There?s also the possibility of doing a great show about the impending clash between two people who embody opposing mystical powers.

Unfortunately, at the moment, Carnivale wants to be both these things ? and, because the two story goals aren?t currently connected to or supporting each other, they compete with each other.

What?s the overall story? Who?s the main character? What?s his personal journey? What opportunities for change does he face within each episode? Within the entire season? Who is his impact character in each episode? What specific influence does that person exert? And how does the Main Character?s story tie into the Overall story? What common theme do the two stories share?

I get the impression no one in charge knows the answers to these questions. And that?s a problem, because you have to know the answers to these questions like the back of your hand. If you don?t, the most you can manage is an increasingly less interesting muddle of characters, setting, and events.

That, pretty much, describes Carnivale?s first season.

The fix: Don?t shoot Season Two until your writers can answer the questions above.

4) Don?t be afraid to go into the dark. Carnivale presents itself as a creepy, potentially disturbing show. Currently, though, it serves up more disconnection than anything else. It?s almost as though the show’s writers and producers aren’t willing to let it become as black-hearted as it wants to be.

Example: Ben?s gift gives life ? but demands death in return. There?s the possibility for terrible consequences there; allow them to be explored. (What if healing a cripple girl?s legs unexpectedly required the death of her widowed mother? What if healing Gabriel?s arm had, instead of killing a pond full of fish, demanded the death of a character who had befriended Ben earlier in the same episode? And what if those killed in this process were to stick around by some means, stalk Ben, and further threaten him or his sanity?)

There?s danger here, of course: the show could become so black, so depressing, no one would watch it. (Remember Millennium?) You?ll have to be careful to balance the darkeness with humor ? or with something redeeming near the end of each episode.

The fix: Stop deliberating so long! Let characters take action. Let the consequences be terrible and wrenching.

And finally, here?s a tip for the next season?s story line: both Ben and Justin have deliberated too long about who they are and how they feel about it. In Season Two, we should see both men completely embrace what they believe they are.

This allows for great tension with other characters: members of the Carnivale troupe who refuse to believe that someone like Ben could really be anyone special, Iris (and perhaps certain expendable parishioners) becoming aware (perhaps too late) of just how terrible Justin can really be, etc. The climax, of course, would then involve a startling revelation: neither man, it turns out, is really who he believes himself to be ? and each is being manipulated in ways neither suspected.