Despite the amazing availability of television online, at locations both legal and illegal, the box set is making a comeback. The Guardian recently launched a ‘Box Set Club’, and sales keep rising: from the nostalgia of rewatching old Frasier seasons to the excitement of a spanky American drama you’d otherwise have to track down on an obscure Sky channel, we can’t get enough. We want TV on our own terms, and we’re bored of squinting into our undersized laptop screens. Enter the DVD.
In my mind, television is the purest form of procrastination. It is the truest, harking back to an age when we didn’t even know what procrastination was, we just knew that the natural thing to do when returning from school was switch on the kids channel and be sucked in to that unnaturally shiny world.
Now, with the advent of iPlayer, 4oD and other on-demand resources, we can watch snippets of television whenever we like. A Peep Show here, an episode of Africa there; it all addsup. However, there is an alternative to procrastaTV which feels oddly guiltless, and that my friends, is the box set.
Buying a box set is like the procrastinator’s version of putting a downpayment on a Ford Focus. It is a commitment, you have made an investment, and sitting watching 40 hours of West Wing suddenly has a greater meaning. You have a project, much like taking up a new hobby or completing your degree.
It is pre-meditated viewing, designed for those who missed something the first time round, those who’ve read an insightful article about the moral integrity of [insert-gritty-drama-here] or for those who insist on blogging a review of every single episode.
It is no coincidence that their popularity is on the up during a time of Big Important Dramas. They are often American, extremely well crafted and they just look bloody cool. As do their boxes. Whoever thought of spreading out the logo of a show across several DVDs was a genius. It means I have to complete the set. I have to have every series of House.
American drama in particular has dominated in recent years, and its continued success can be seen in the recent revival of shows such as The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and The West Wing on Sky Atlantic. They are still being talked about, compared to, sourced from, and thus people continue to buy them years after their airing.
One of the reasons shiny American drama like The Wire is so engaging is that it’s completely alienating. With highly paced colloquial language, grit-cop jargon and no flashbacks or catch-ups, you’re required be completely engaged for five whole series. These slow-burning, novelistic dramas require a satisfying sort of dedication, meaning the payoff is far greater at the end. It takes a while, but on the upside my inner voice is now that of a Baltimore drug dealer.
It’s not just the old favourites that are having a boxy renaissance; semirecent shows that you might have missed by a whisker are everywhere at the minute. Super-meta-sitcom Community has a huge cult following, appealing to those who like TV and those who are very aware of the fact that they like TV. Equally, shows that haven’t even finished, such as Breaking Bad, are being snapped up quicker than crystal meth on a street corner.
For me, buying box sets is part of my television-enthusiast vanity complex, the part that knows every character history of House and watches The Wire without subtitles. I’ll be out of a loan before Trinity.
