You’re Taking my Heart to Pieces

This week, I watched the season finale of the TV show, Roswell New Mexico. This show was a remake of the original TV show simply named Roswell, which I adored. I loved it so much, in fact, that I dived deep into the fan community spending hours on message boards, reading a lot of fan fiction and making friends with nearby fans. This group of Midwestern fans began to get together for weekends to celebrate our love for the show. We provided comfort for each other when the original show was canceled and when the final episode aired. The show truly meant something to us.

When we heard that the show was coming back in a new formed, we decided to watch, cautiously and with an open mind. This led me to watch each episode of the new series. At times, I forgot that it was a remake and just watched it on its own. At other times, the emotions of the original came flooding back. Anyway, as I watched the season finale, I hoped to feel satisfied with however it ended, not knowing if it would return. All the while, attempting to keep relatively unattached as the previous show broke my heart into a million little pieces throughout the three seasons and that it ended.

Well, as the final episode wrapped up, it became clear to me that my plan to keep the show at arm’s length didn’t totally work. How do I know? I ranted and raved at the end of the episode for multiple reasons. If I didn’t care, why would I respond so passionately? Even now, days later, I’m left thinking about the finale and how frustrating it was. It led me to even seek out fan fiction again. My thinking was simple. Surely someone out there wrote an alternate ending that was so much better, right? Then, the next thing I know I started searching to find out the fate of the show. Is it coming back for a second season? Do I even want it to? After all, there was a lot that just sucked at the end. (It apparently is coming back for another season.)

As someone who has studied and thought about fandom, I started to wonder if anger and disappointment actually keeps fans attached. Now, I know that if the subject of a fandom changes in a dramatic way, fans can and do walk away. There are countless stories about TV shows, for example, that lost fans when the show changed directions or got rid of a favorite character. But did that exodus happen right away? I’m sure that there were some fans who left immediately but could it also have drawn others in as many fans would want to know about how it was going to go?

Then, I think about Duran Duran. In recent times, the album that caused the most controversy surrounded Red Carpet Massacre. For many fans, that album felt like a significant change in direction. Likewise, it was also the album right after Andy left. Did RCM send some fans running away right away? I’m sure but could it also help keep some fans interested? For example, did this change cause some fans to be so annoyed that they actually started talking more online with others in the fan community? Actually increasing their participation? Did it make some more interested to hear the new music? Could it have kept some in to wait and see how the following album after RCM would be? I think about Rhonda. During the RCM era, she didn’t walk away. Instead, she found herself talking a lot with other fans about the album. The passion she felt was not indifference but more likely to be described as frustration.

What is really the opposite of love? Is it hate or is it indifference? If it is indifference is that what causes fandoms to die or is it negative reactions to a project?

-A