Volitional Reconsumption

It’s Been a Long Pandemic and We Need Our Stories

When I first visited San Francisco in the early 90s, some friends and I went out to eat at a family-style Italian restaurant in North Beach called Michelangelo Cafe. We had a great time, but the thing I remember most about it was the food — it was a mind-expanding dining experience. I was from little Burlington, Vermont, which had not yet experienced the farm-to-table culinary renaissance that was still a decade away, and Michelangelo’s was a perfect combination of big-city-quality and down-home, family-style comfort eating. I ate at other great places in that city on that trip and on the many trips there I have taken since, but I always made it a point to go back to Michelangelo’s on each visit — partly because I wanted to recapture the feeling of that first eye-opening experience, and partly as a pilgrimage of sorts — paying respect to the spot that began my love of taking food holidays in unfamiliar cities.

Going back to beloved restaurants and ordering favorite dishes instead of choosing to try something new has a name, I just learned: “volitional reconsumption.” It’s the active choice to re-experience something we have already consumed — food, books, movies, TV shows, travel destinations, etc.

I know what this behavior is called because Vox just published an interview with Pepperdine University Professor of Marketing, Cristel Russell, who co-authored a study back in 2011 about why it is that so many of us like to re-consume things we have already tried.

If you google “comfort TV” you’ll find a bunch of lists of shows that people think make for good comfort viewing and re-viewing, and these lists tend to be populated with shows that have literally comforting content — like The Good Place, or The Great British Bakeoff. I like those shows, but that’s not what I’m after in a good re-watchable show. I don’t need my TV to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I am drawn to shows that I thought were great the first time through, that give me some sort of dopamine hit in terms of the characters, situations, and writing, and that reveal more of themselves on re-watches. So generally, I am drawn to shows that are fun (“fun” can mean adventurous, funny, sweet, exciting, ridiculous, scary, etc.) and with some depth and subtlety. Shows where the fun is in the surprises or reveals (The Good Place, Westworld, most mystery-box shows) are generally lower on my rewatch list.

Seeing the Vox interview was timely, because I was under the weather a bit last week and Emily and I wound up binging through some of our most comforting comfort-watches, and I thought I’d mention them here in case I ever need a reminder of what evergreen content I can go back to in times of need.

The list below starts with the shows we have recently or are currently rewatching, but I am adding a few series that are just as satisfying (for me, at least, YMMV).

Band of Brothers (2001, 1 season, 10 episodes, HBOMax)

My friend Andrew Liptak recently joked on Facebook that his wife had put on the first episode of Band of Brothers and that as a result, “now I can’t do anything for the next 10 hours.” I commented that I understood and that just reading his post would likely also be enough to get me to binge the whole thing, and I did just that.

I get something new from this WWII series from co-producers Stephen Spielberg and Tom Hanks on each watch. It’s a nearly perfect piece of filmed entertainment. Each episode is a standalone story but the ten episodes also work as a cohesive whole. The story is based on real events but as with the best fiction, it manages to have themes and subtext and it has meaningful things to say about the events it depicts, and also about ourselves as Americans, and about war and the larger world. It’s also a page-turner. I’m eager to click “next episode” as each one ends. Chef’s kiss. Perfect television.

I remember when HBO first aired the series. Partly because it followed hot on the hells of Spielberg and Hanks’ epic WWII film, Saving Private Ryan, and partly because HBO did not quite yet have the reputation it has since earned for top-tier entertainment, I assumed at the time that it was going to be a pale imitation of SPR and a cheap attempt to keep earning money off the success of that project. Boy, was I wrong.

I’ll note that I have never re-watched the follow-up series by the same creators, The Pacific. It was good, but really grim, and the thought of sitting through it again feels like work to me. I am, however, eager for their third outing, Masters of the Air, about the role the Eighth Air Force played in WWII. It’s coming to AppleTV+ later this year.

Pride and Prejudice (1995, 1 season, 6 episodes, BBC, Prime Video)

Oh, Mr. Bennet, you take delight in vexing me! In the past 30 years the world has been treated to a number of excellent filmed Jane Austen adaptations, whether in the form of transmogrifications like the Bridget Jones films and Clueless, or straight ahead period pieces like Autumn De Wilde’s recent adaptation of Emma or Ang Lee’s outstanding 1995 version of Sense and Sensibility (1995–96 was a particularly stellar year for Ms. Austen). 2005’s Pride & Prejudice (note the ampersand replacing the word “and”) with Kiera Knightly as Elizabeth Bennet and Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy was a hit, and is indeed a fine adaptation, although these days it’s difficult to see Matthew Macfadyen in anything and not have his performance polluted by the spirit of Tom Wambsgans (“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you … I’m just fucking with you, Greg! But really, though, I love you … Greg! I got you!,” etc.)

But the greatest Jane Austen adaptation of all remains 1995’s amazing six-hour-long BBC production of Pride and Prejudice, from Andrew Davies. I can practically quote the whole thing, I’ve seen it so many times. The casting is perfection, and the mood of the story is at turns serious, romantic, and comical.

The casting of the 2005 version is also terrific, and a few of the stars are arguably better actors (or at least more celebrated) than their 1995 BBC counterparts (compare Dame Judi Dench as Lady Catherine De Bourgh to Barbara Liegh Hunt, for example). Simon Woods and Rosamund Pike are both quite good as Mr. Bingley and Jane Bennet, respectively, and Brenda Blethyn is always amazing and her turn as Mrs. Bennet is no outlier in her career. The 2005 film also looks wonderful, with believably candlelit nighttime scenes and sumptuous cinematography.

But the 2005 version suffers in comparison to its 1995 counterpart in two important ways, I think.

Firstly, Pride and Prejudice is a 400 page book in its paperback form, and the 2005 film’s runtime of just over two hours simply doesn’t allow for much nuance or character growth. Lizzie Bennet’s relationship with Mr. Wickham, for example, is barely given one scene in the film, while the six hours of the 1995 adaptation allows time for that relationship to mature, such that when her trust in the man is shaken, it resonates with the viewers. Wickham’s fall from grace is central to the plot of P&P and the 2005 film just doesn’t have the minutes to spare to show it to us. The 127-minute film feels rushed.

Secondly, its tone is decidedly more dour than the 1995 series. Broad comic characters, like the insufferably ridiculous Mr. Collins, and the ever-vexed Mrs. Bennet, are played for laughs, but there’s a realism and pathos in their performances that, while laudable, misses some of the overt silliness that imbues the 1995 series. This strikes me as a missed opportunity and a fundamental misread of the novel:

Mr. Collins … was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily, —

“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”

“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”

“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things, I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”

“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted — — ”

He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a quarter of an hour.

The 2005 film doesn’t get the tone completely wrong, but it fails live up to the inherent absurdity of scenes like this, it seems to me. By contrast, the 1995 series is all-in on the inane pompousness and absurd entitlement that Austen was so cleverly mocking.

Perhaps most damning is the simple fact that I don’t really have a desire to rewatch the 2005 film. That’s the funny thing about comfort-watches — sometimes the thing that makes them so re-watchable is greater than the sum of all their parts.

The Expanse (2015–2021, 6 seasons, Prime Video)

We are beginning season three as I write this post. I’m actually amazed at how binge-worthy this show still is. This is our third time through and the series only ended two years ago, yet we are constantly picking up on little things throughout. I have written about The Expanse before — about how the books and TV show compliment each other and improve the experience of consuming each mode of storytelling in equal measure, and about how faithful it is to basic scientific accuracy (a few minor quibbles notwithstanding). But the characters and relationships are what keep it such a lovely thing to revisit. I won’t drag on about this. If you know, you know.

I will, however, take a moment to level a minor complaint about The Expanse. It’s a problem that stems from the books and was compounded by the TV production, and its name is James Holden. The books center Holden as the moral hero/leader of our ragtag group of misfits who save the system time and again, which wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that he’s just so bland. His character comes straight out of central casting in terms of white guy hero/savior, and whatever, the authors are white guys too so I get it, and I wouldn’t have even mentioned it if he wasn’t actively less interesting than literally everyone else in the series. I mean, he’s fine. He’s not a bad character, he’s just not as great as all the others, so his blandness is accentuated by proximity.

The show made matters worse by casting Steven Strait as Holden. No shade against Steven Strait — I’m sure he’s a lovely person and he’s very good looking and he does the dark, tortured brooding thing rather well, but in scenes where Holden is expected to be emotional, Strait is just not in the same class as his fellow cast and it really shows. Anger, in particular, is an emotion the actor doesn’t wear well, and Holden is full of rage at many key moments, so it’s a problem.

But whatever. The Expanse is still one of my all time favorite science fiction shows and I suspect I will be happily rewatching it for many years.

Justified (2010–2015, 6 seasons, FX)

I haven’t binged any Justified in a couple of years, but I would watch the whole thing right now (now is actually a good time to re-watch because a new limited series, Justified: City Primeval is set to premiere in mid 2023).

I’ve always appreciated films based on the books of Elmore Leonard. Stephen Soderbergh’s Out of Sight (1998) is a comfortable rewatch for me as well. Jackie Brown (based on Leonard’s novel, Rum Punch) is one of my favorite Quentin Tarantino films (Out of Sight and Jackie Brown actually share a character in common from Leonard’s cops and criminals universe: Ray Nicolette, played in both films by Michael Keaton).

There are lots of very good Leonard adaptations out there (52 Pickup, Get Shorty, 3:10 to Yuma, etc.), but just as the BBC Pride and Prejudice is the definitive screened adaptation of Jane Austen, Justified is that for Elmore Leonard. There’s just something about the way Timothy Olyphant delivers Leonard’s dialogue. There’s a poetry to it that he and the show runners are able to hear and translate to the screen. Leonard agreed, and before his death in 2013 he penned the novel, Raylan, which was inspired by the show, which was originally inspired by Leonard’s short story, Fire in the Hole. Then several scenes from Raylan wound up being used in Justified. Such was the symbiotic relationship between Leonard’s work and the show.

Justified has this way of introducing small, bit-part characters who seem fully fleshed out and real from the jump. They rarely survive an episode (if they’re bad guys), but they are never disposable. The central baddies on the show (Boyd Crowder, Mags Bennet, Robert Quarles, Wynn Duffy, et al) are each worthy of their own shows. And while there is an over-arching narrative over the course of the six seasons, you can really just drop in anywhere and pick it up mid stream. Sometimes if I can’t decide on anything to watch, I’ll just pick a Justified episode at random and hit play. The danger is that I won’t want to stop at just one.

Below are some honorable mentions in no particular order…

Fringe (2008–2013, 5 seasons, Fox)

I would argue that really just the first three seasons are particularly re-watchable. This is a rare example of a bingeable show from the era of 22-episode network seasons. And despite my belief that mystery box shows are usually less re-watchable, Fringe’s characters are so great that it’s an exception.

Warrior (2019 — present, 2 seasons with a 3rd on the way, HBOMax)

Based on an idea for a show that Bruce Lee shopped around in the early 70s (and which eventually got whitewashed into the David Carradine show, Kung Fu), Warrior kicks all kinds of ass. It follows the exploits of a Chinese immigrant to the U.S. in 1870s San Francisco who has come to America searching for his sister. He gets caught up in the gangs of Chinatown and the racial politics of the city, and is generally the coolest badass on the streets. Politicians, cops, the Irish labor unions and the Chinatown “tongs” are all rival factions for our hero to navigate. So good!

Fleabag (2016–2019, 2 seasons, Prime Video)

Based on Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s one woman show, which she premiered at the 2013 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Fleabag tells the story of a single woman living in London and all the various complications and tragedies that she endures, particularly as they pertain to her love life. Season one was largely a fleshed out version of the one-woman show, and season two was originally written for TV. The whole thing is great, but I actually think the six episodes of season two of Fleabag may be the greatest single season of television ever produced in the English language. So yes, it’s worth a re-watch.

Rome (2005–2007, 2 seasons, HBOMax)

Rome is the first of three European historical dramas on the list. It only lasted two seasons because it was so expensive to make. It’s a dramatization of historical events from Julius Caesar’s victories in the Gallic wars in 52 BC, his rise to dictatorship over Rome following his battle with the Roman Senate in 49 BC, and his fall and ultimate assassination on the Ides of March in 44 BC. The series also depicts the early years of the young Octavian, who is destined to become Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome. The second season focuses on Octavian’s rise to power and his clash with Mark Antony following Caesar’s assassination, and ends with the suicide of Antony and Cleopatra in 30 B.C. after their defeat at the Battle of Actium. Like the other European historical dramas on this list, the thing that makes Rome so compelling is its mix of real historical figures and events and plausible fictional characters who are witness to and directly involved with those events. These characters act as proxies for the viewers and moral centers for the action. They also provide real stakes since viewers who know the history will already know which historical characters will succeed and which will fail.

The Borgias (2011–2013, 3 seasons, Showtime)

The Borgias is Neil Jordan’s retelling of the sex and politics surrounding the rise of Pope Alexander VI (Jeremy Irons), who was basically the head of an Italian crime family who was elevated to Pope in the 15th century (yes, really). The new pope believes his ascendancy will make his family rich and powerful beyond their wildest dreams but it turns out the papacy and politics of the Vatican are every bit as corrupt and venal as the streets of Rome. Whomever was responsible for casting the show had an incredible eye for actors who fit the period (Sean Harris, OMG). The Borgia family members serve as the show’s main characters but the supporting cast is filled with wonderful (and terrible) fictional characters too. This is gorgeous and horny stuff, filled with poisonings and incest, but all in service of something great (unlike the cheap and tawdry shenanigans of lesser historical dramas like The Tudors).

The Last Kingdom (2015–2023, 5 seasons and an upcoming movie, Netflix)

Now is the perfect time to watch all five seasons of The Last Kingdom because a concluding movie is set to premiere this summer. I joke with Emily that The Last Kingdom is so re-watchable because I always forget about what the hell was happening in the show as soon as I stop watching it, but while it’s on, it’s completely engrossing. The Last Kingdom is based on a series of novels called The Saxon Stories by Bernard Cornwell. The five seasons of the TV show cover events that take place in the years 866–918 (roughly) in the land that will become England, and focus on the exploits of an Anglo-born and Dane-raised protagonist named Uhtred (a fictionalized amalgam of real historical characters) who weaves his way through the major conflicts and events of the late 9th and early 10th centuries in the British Isles. Early seasons focus on the reign of King Alfred the Great’s dream of uniting England. The show is full of blood and politics and alliances forged and broken. I hear from my friends who know about such things that the show is pretty historically accurate in its broad strokes. If medieval historical fiction is your jam, this is about as good as it gets.

What shows do you like to volitionally re-consume?

Thanks to Emily for helping me brianstorm the shows I love to re-watch.