Short and Sweet
In defense of creative constraints
Despite being the progenitor of a Substack whose existence relies, at least in part, on people finding its recommendations useful, I’ve become quite tired of the “Are you watching this?” recommendation swap that occurs at some point of most adult gatherings I attend these days. With a few notable exceptions, most of the movies and shows that come out of these conversations are ones that I’ve already heard of or seen.
Yet I still feel the social pressure to participate and throw my own recs into the ring. What I noticed recently is that the three shows I’ve most vociferously advocated for over the past year—The Bear, Reservation Dogs, and Beef—share a common trait: They’re all a half-hour long.
In the age of streaming, traditional run-time considerations have gone out the window. No longer do TV shows have to be a tidy 22 or 44 minutes to fit into half-hour and hour-long network blocks that leave room for commercials. And the only movies that are in the 90-minute range these days are animated kids films. (Martin Scorcese’s Killers of the Flower Moon is slated to clock in at three hours, 26 minutes. That’s half a workday.)
The conventional wisdom is that fewer constraints lead to more creative freedom. But more creative freedom doesn’t always lead to better creative work. Constraints can be a feature, not a bug. They’re one of the reasons that haiku is such a beautiful art form.
I’m of the opinion that one of the highest compliments you can pay a song, book, TV show, or movie is, “it’s tight.” That means the work has everything that it needs, and nothing that it doesn’t. Every note, word, or scene is included because it provides something vital to the work. Constraints like length provide a self-imposed tightness. The creator is forced to make hard decisions about what’s really necessary and what’s superfluous in order to get the finished piece to fit. The work is almost always better for those edits.
One of the reasons that’s true is that the cuts tend to shift the balance toward what the audience wants to consume versus what the creator wants to serve. One of the most important lessons journalists learn is to never lose sight of who you’re writing for. When I first became a magazine editor, my first instinct was to fight for as many words as possible in the stories I was working on. After seeing my own work get cut during my time as a reporter, I felt it was my duty. But a more senior editor (who would become a mentor) reminded me that my responsibility was always to the reader, not the writer. The reader didn’t necessarily want more words, they might want more (or bigger) pictures. My goal was to fit all of what they wanted into the fixed space of a magazine page.
That shift in perspective made me a better creative person in so many ways. It made me a better writer because I had to excise self-indulgent prose; it made me a better creative director because I had to see the whole picture, not just my contribution. And I owe it all to the fact that I was forced to operate within certain constraints.
I could go on, but then I wouldn’t be following my own advice.
Curren Caples for Vans
There are certain skaters that you become aware of when they are young and have a tough time disassociating that image of them as kids with the adults they become. Curren Caples falls into that camp, but after watching his recent Vans’ part, I think I’m ready to acknowledge that he’s now a full-grown man. His skating is smooth, and his lanky style looks even more fluid now that he’s taller.
—Justin
Rap Caviar Presents: Tyler, The Creator
I love listening to Tyler talk. I may love it more than his music. He has that perfect blend of intelligence, eloquence, and not to be overlooked, goofiness that makes him so charming. Listening to him trace his music career in this Rap Caviar series is fascinating. It provides some incredible insight into the thoughtfulness that went into each phase.
—Justin
What’s a God to a Machine?
Thank you to HL for being the first of many to recommend this.
Every once in a while I read something about a topic I’m interested in, written in a way that I could only dream of doing, that absolutely blows my f***ing mind. About a week ago, Jeff Weiss (of Passion of the Weiss) shared his annual Coachella report, centered around the “human mess” that was Frank Ocean’s weekend one performance. And it did just that. Fan of Frank or not (how the hell not?), if you’re here, read this.
—Andrew
Keinemusik - Mayan Warrior - Burning Man 2022
This may be the best video I’ve found to describe my Burning Man experience: a breathtaking sunrise, otherworldly beautiful people mixed amongst weird and wonderful freaks, music that you can’t help but move to, despite never having heard it anywhere else in the world, and a bunch of random Diplo sightings. You should really watch this first and then feel free to listen to it (on Soundcloud) thereafter. Rachel and I have been, nonstop, for a month.
—Andrew