Warning: I tried not to put any spoilers in here about Star Trek or Lost, but if you’re a spoiler stickler, might not want to read this post
This free tip goes out to all the writers of the world: hey guys, time travel doesn’t make your stories better. It makes them suck more. When characters start time traveling, you’re being LAZY. You aren’t smart enough to deal intelligently with all the paradoxes inherent in time travel. Butterflies changing how they flap their wings in 1977 affecting hurricane patterns two years later and all that. The Philosophy 101 paradox about what would happen if you went back in time and killed your grandpa.
That stuff makes plots dumber. It doesn’t make sense, you aren’t smart enough to deal with it, we aren’t smart enough to understand it, and you’re going to end up spending lots of precious air time with obligatory explanations about “destiny” and whether you can/can’t affect things and alternate universes and what happens when you meet yourself anyway?? Pretty soon we the viewer/reader are having to learn complicated sets of rules for your stupid little parallel universe.
It seems like we’re being subjected to the crap over and over. Lost and Star Trek are fun despite the time travel, but I’m sure they’re a lot more fun in the parallel dimension in which J.J. Abrams is interested in, say, entomology instead of time travel.
The Heroes writers botch time-traveling storylines so badly that they ended up basically pretending the second season never existed. The writer’s strike was a big relief for those poor lazy writers.
The one exception I’ll allow is for stories that are actually built around time travel, instead of using it as a plot contrivance. You go into a movie like Terminator or Back to the Future with full knowledge that it won’t address its own paradoxes and absurdities.
And one franchise that made GREAT use of time travel was the Enders series of books by Orson Scott Card. Want to “live” for hundreds of years? Jump in a spaceship traveling the speed of light! (Though you can only jump forward in relativistic time, not backward). Card used this to great effect, and actually delved into the emotional ups and downs of lightspeed travel and leaving loved ones behind in both space and time.
Overall though, adding time travel to a story is really cheating your audience, because what’s the point of getting invested in this imaginary world if everything can change by one character going back in time and doing something differently? If the H-bomb in Lost goes off and undoes everything that happened on the Island–the crash, the relationships, the death, the struggles–what does that say to the viewer? “Guess what, chump? Even in this imaginary world you’ve invested yourself so heavily in, none of that stuff really happened after all. Thanks for watching!”
The sadness you felt when Charlie died, the confusion over The Others and the smoke monster, the anger when Mr. Ecko was killed off–none of it matters, because none of it happened. Ima be pissed if it comes to that.
Anyway, time travel is Plot Killer No. 1. For Plot Killer No. 2, we’ll turn to the old contrivance of characters who can change shape to look like other characters. This has screwed over many a show, from Star Trek to X-Files to Heroes to Lost to X-men to Mission Impossible and on and on and on.
“Anybody could be anybody!” Well, writers, that isn’t especially exciting for us viewers, sorry. You’re basically telling us not to get too involved in what your characters are doing, because their identities are fungible in your stupid little story.
“Wait, why is Agent Scully choking that man to dea…oh, wait, THAT’S NOT SCULLY!” And then there’s the inevitable moment in which the two lookalikes are fighting! only one of them is evil! and the onlooker with the gun doesn’t know who to shoot! Oh, the suspense!
Maybe you lazy writers should stop reverting to cheap tricks to tell your stories. Or maybe I just need to stop watching science fiction stuff.
