TV Review: Binge fatigue

‘Orange is the New Black’ remains good, but we’re exhausted

Considering my late start, I had no intention of ploughing through the entire second season of “Orange is the New Black,” which became available through Netflix on June 6, for this column. But, as was the case with last summer’s first season (as well as Netflix’s other addictive drama, “House of Cards”), I found myself mainlining the majority of the 13-episode season in one sitting, even as I watched the possibility of a proper night’s sleep dissolve and the anxiety of an approaching deadline grow.

The comedy-drama about day-to-day life in a medium-security women’s prison premiered last year and immediately became Netflix’s biggest success, drawing more viewers and better reviews than the much-hyped “Cards.” Creator Jenji Kohan (“Weeds”) used Piper Kerman’s memoir as the blueprint for a lively, lightly satirical romp about race, class, and gender that never felt high-minded or preachy. The contrasting tones of the show—serious in its approach to social issues but with an airy, bright artifice and sitcom plotting—was summed up perfectly in its opening credits, a montage of real ex-cons’ faces set to the bubbly pop of Regina Spektor’s “You’ve Got Time.” As disturbing as it often was, the sharply written first season always felt light on its feet, breezy and comforting like one of the beach reads found under the bunk of Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling), Kerman’s fictional alter-ego.

While not as focused or consistent as its first run, this new batch of episodes is entertaining enough to sate fans and demand a third season. If you liked last season, you’ll also enjoy this one. If you hated the show, nothing here is likely to change your mind. The characters are, for the most part, more dynamic this time around (save for Chapman’s fiancée and best friend in an annoying, pointless tangent), but the plotting is sloppier and the sharp edge that made last season feel dangerous has been dulled. It’s more sitcom, less satire.

The new binge model of television watching promulgated by Netflix is, for this writer, quickly losing its appeal. The entertainment giant first reshaped how we rent movies by making the video store a thing of the past (RIP Blockbuster and Hollywood Video). Now, it has redefined how we consume television by venturing into the content game with a handful of original series (in addition to “Orange” and “House of Cards,” it has Eli Roth’s horror soap “Hemlock Grove” as well as revivals of “Arrested Development” and “The Killing,” which Netflix rescued from cancellation) produced in-house and released exclusively to subscribers. The trick: each season is released in full with every episode available right out of the gate. The upside: the viewer controls how the episodes will be parsed out for consumption. No worrying about setting the DVR, no waiting a week to find out what happens next. The downside: the ritual of appointment viewing is gone. Water cooler conversation is now stifled, dominated by spoiler concerns and questions about how far along you are in the story, and everyone is always on a different page.

Inhaling 13 hours of a good series in one sitting is akin to burning through an entire novel in a night. When it’s over, you feel exhausted and hollow, proud of your devotion until you realize you can’t remember half of what you just read. There’s no time to linger on a chapter, to contemplate the particulars of the plot, to soak up the characters, to discuss with friends, to allow your opinion to evolve organically over an extended period. You got through it, you enjoyed it, but its memory starts to fade almost immediately.

So it goes with “Orange is the New Black.” I finished the last episode just two hours ago, but already I can barely remember it.