From the Small Screen to Your Screen, Part One.

The personal screen has descended upon us faster than anyone could have ever expected. The ViPod (or whatever the hell we’re supposed to call it these days) was a revolution, combining the gotta-have-it aesthetics of Apple Computer’s best non-computer products and the consumer desire to shake the bonds of crappy TV. The possibilities for your viewing choices on this platform are, given the ease of conversion from any other format, nearly limitless, which doesn’t stop your average user of the iTunes music store from downloading last night’s Battlestar Galactica or a vintage episode of The A-Team. While I have fallen victim to this mainstream supply a few times, as I was interested in how terrible the pilot episode of Night Stalker really was, my attention has drifted more towards the proliferation of DIY productions for this new machine. I was never a huge fan of mainstream television anyway; my attentions were always drawn towards WLNY (New York 55!), PIX, MNN, and the other giants of way-out local television. The on-the-cheap syndicated shows, the no-budget Secaucus-based crap, and the near-forgotten late movies were more fascinating to my eyes than anything that the “Big Three” could ever provide.
For independent TV fans like me, the phenomenon of the video podcast is a boon to our entertainment palette, an alternative to the rather slim pickings among new television shows (Conviction, anyone?). In honor of the format’s one-year anniversary, I want to talk about a few of my favorite video podcasts (or Vodcasts, if you’re a total contraction whore) and try to pinpoint exactly why this phenomenon is flourishing outside of the technology addicts and the fans of Steampipe Alley. First up is. . .

--Rocketboom

Okay, I guess this one doesn’t really need that much additional publicity, seeing as this podcast is the first to cross over onto “conventional TV” through an episode of Crime Scene Investigation, but I really have to comment because I can’t fathom how the show is popular outside of New York City. I personally dig the hell out of the show’s style, but, y’know, duh. Host Amanda Congdon delivers the news in a cutting style which will be familiar and welcoming to anyone who grew up watching Rosanna Scotto, Chuck Scarborough, or Ernie Anastos, but completely foreign to anyone else. That’s not even mentioning her off-handed comments which pepper the broadcast in-between headlines, which drip the subtle sarcasm of a girl raised by the New York private school system. By the end of the first headline, I was beginning to wonder if she went to Chapin, Spence, or Marymount by the way she cut through the absolute stupidity of certain headline subjects. The content of the show is intriguing as well, acting like a Bizarro-World MSNBC designed specifically with geeks in mind. I wouldn’t have known about the headless mule-bot, the Nerd Prom, or Spore without it. In fact, the stories seem to appeal to the larger near-nerd crowd which has long been neglected on the Internet, those who dwell somewhere between the popular kids and the out-and-out P.B.D.s (Parent’s Basement Dwellers). So I guess my initial reticence about the widespread viability of the program comes not from the content, but from the host herself. I’m a fan of Ms. Congdon (despite the fact that I have reason to believe she may be a Cylon, which I may or may not address in a future post), so I’m a fan of the show. In the end, I guess, widespread acceptance of a show like this really doesn’t matter. There are no ratings and there is no adspace; all that Ms. Congdon needs is a few devotees who speak her language and are interested in the same stories. I do, I am, and I’ll be watching every weekday without fail.

--Ask a Ninja

Here’s another reason why we need video podcasts: this sort of absurdity would not fly on any conventional broadcasts, let alone a network. The format of the program is typical internet fodder, giving a quirky character free reign to answer often ridiculous questions drawn from e-mails. The strength of the character dictates the success of the series, and the titular ninja is one of the most insane characters I’ve yet seen in a podcast. From telling us that “a tape covered in worms is not a gift” to the assertion that video podcasts are the internets answer to “a factory that serves pies to whales,” The Ninja is a consistently hilarious personality. The idea of merchandising a show like this scares me, due to the fact that it’s inherently not commercial, but it’s on its way regardless; check out the website for the link to Ask a Ninja-brand ringtones. Yes, I grabbed one, mostly to supplant my phones awful supply of ringtones, but also to show my respect and admiration for the show. This of course raises another question about video podcasting, which is how the loyal fans can keep their favorite show “on the air.” There are no sponsors in the conventional sense, and the merchandising structure is nowhere near as sophisticated as it is within the corporate world. So how does one go about ensuring the survival of a particular show when the medium is so tenuous? I welcome your comments and theories, because I have no honest idea. The format is only a year old, after all; I’m sure Milton Berle wasn’t concerned about the longevity of The Texaco Star Theater in 1948. It’s assured that these shows will end eventually; how long the first hits last in comparison to their idiot-box counterparts will be an interesting harbinger of the format as a whole.

Coming in Part Two: Advertising the podcast, recycling the public domain, and reinventing old personalities. . .