Netflix's
Making a Murderer
Key to understanding Making A Murderer is understanding the role of Netflix in the industry. Worried about their falling ratings and the threat of streaming services, studios raised their licensing costs. To avoid relying on the existing television system, and also to differentiate itself competitively, Netflix created its own original series. Its business model was founded on user and creator control. Exemplary of this is its release of full original series at one time, giving the viewer unprecedented autonomy and reign over their consumption. Networks have followed suit with this ideal of user control. The control afforded to users is also given to creators. Program creators are practically given free reign over their product, allowing for more creative autonomy and auteurship. Netflix is also able to experiment more because it has no set number of program slots to fill.
Though their original programming does partially seek to brand Netflix, it also reflects their intentions to provide as many different kinds of shows. While other channels want to narrow down their image, Netflix wants to offer programming for every niche. They embrace audience fragmentation (while fostering and advancing it) of the post-network era by incorporating every genre and subgenre they can, appealing to the masses on an individual basis, the epitome of the publishing model. Their brand undefinable, except in terms of personalization, or in having no brand at all. They enjoy freedom from advertisers’ influence and linear scheduling, so their target audience can be as large and wide-ranging as it desires, and they need no cap to programming numbers. Without a brand to maintain, shows can enjoy more creative freedom. Making a Murderer was created by the streaming platform to target true crime lovers, capitalizing off the recent resurgence of the subgenre.
But why now for true crime TV? I believe it plays off of our societal distrust of the institution. Increasing exposure of police brutality due to smartphones and social media, and failures of the criminal justice system have led to suspicion around these establishments. These true crime shows play into our distrust and cynicism and our cultural values of justice and order. They reaffirm our notions of flawed systems and present these failures as fixable by motivated, good individuals. These new true crime TV shows based around restorative justice modify the heritage of true crime that vilified only the person who committed the crime, and kept police and the law in their established roles as above reproach. In these older stories, the system works. Making a Murderer breaks this hegemony down, but upholds traditionally accepted morals of justice and order, and relies on aesthetics of action and sensation.
The true crime documentary blurs the lines between fact and fiction, representation and reality. This issue is most clearly shown with dramatic recreations. The show uses these to create drama and emotion, but is drawing on the heritage of true crime films like the critically acclaimed Thin Blue Line, a masterpiece, in my opinion. Though the events are allegedly “real”, the documentarian has complete control over the narrative. Framing is everything, and televisual techniques used in the show such as POV and extreme closeups create a lens through which to view the situation and the people involved. The issue that arises is its propagation as “the truth”. I think it is the duty of the creator to include an air of reflexivity that allows for reflection on its representation of non-fictional events, something I think Thin Blue Line does really well. Though I have not watched Making a Murderer all the way through, I did not pick up on self-referentiality. Especially in the era of “fake news” there is an increased desire to watch something “true”. There is an educational connotation to this type of non-fiction programming, so it has received even more attention in the post-network era of “quality” content with social themes. Viewers are now very aware of TV’s previous association with mindlessness, and want to feel like they are watching something more virtuous. Now, they do not feel the need to turn to film for artful, smart content. The show’s antecedent, the podcast Serial, rescued the genre from its prior associations with cheapness and guilty pleasure. Distributed on the intellectually associated medium of the podcast and the widely admired NPR, Serial could be enjoyed as high entertainment. Not to mention its explorations of social issues such as Muslim-American culture, interracial dating, and masculinity. So Making a Murderer’s roots in critically acclaimed cinema, Serial, and its televisuality marked by POV, dramatic recreation, animated graphics, and collage bring it up towards higher art.
Netflix’s structural differences also promoted alternative storytelling tactics. Like pay cable and premium channels, Netflix’s programming is free of commercials that fragment storytelling. They do not need to hold the audience’s attention through interruptions or create “outros” and “re-intros”. This gives them much more creative control over pacing and structure of series. Making A Murderer is divided into two parts, each consisting of ten episodes. The episodes vary in length, from 47 to 77 minutes. This allows for narrative flow and a structure that makes sense for the story, instead of forcing the story into traditional formats that affect its continuity and rhythm. I think this makes timing feel more natural.
Typical of the complex TV forms of this post-network era, this show follows a more serial format. Netflix users can watch each episode when they please, and can rewind and pause as desired. Because of these functions, creators can assume that the viewer is following the complex, building narrative from beginning to end and therefore do not need to reintroduce characters or premise. Memory is not an issue as it is in broadcast television, lending itself to longer-form stories like this one.
Though Netflix is free to abandon conventions of television standards, and has disrupted the generic model, it still relies on this heritage in many ways. For example, they have picked up a number of canceled shows created in the bounds of traditional TV. These revivals show that the streaming platform is not trying to differentiate itself, but instead building off of traditional television. Recently, too, they have made more of an effort to position their brand under titles of exclusivity. They are now carrying fewer programs that they hold all rights to, and expanding their original programming cache. But they still refrain from a specific niche in favor of a mass-market approach that demonstrates its authority. Netflix has redefined viewing habits and expanded the definition of TV.
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Making a Murderer exemplifies the model of publishing in that it is one of innumerable true crime shows. It has specified itself among the masses, just one of a wide range of choices not only in the genre of crime, but in the numerous subgenres it encompasses. It exists as one of many of its kind in the huge bookstore called Netflix. It also follows the model of continuous viewing and complex seriality. The forum structure has been broken down by complete viewer control and the loss of group viewership. It was likely commonly watched on an individual basis, typical of the publishing model.
Though perhaps only characteristic of an increasing demand for true crime series based on actual justice, it will likely influence more documented investigations into obstructions of justice and misuse of power. Hopefully it will even inspire more transparency in the criminal justice system, though this is doubtful. The popularization of the docu-series and innovatively structured content will probably also be part of its legacy.