Spoiled Rotten

By Ross Lincoln

Citizen Kane: Is it our fault if you don't know how it ends? 

Warning: Everything is getting hell of spoiled in this. Deal with it.


I once enjoyed a most amusing workplace argument thanks to my casual reference to the fact that Luke Skywalker is the son of Darth Vader during an unrelated conversation with two coworkers. One of my coworkers practically fainted for having this extremely well known thing revealed to her; then again, she also believed that Tim McVeigh wasn't a terrorist, so you can get the gist of her politics and maximum brain function. Still, her neanderthal right wing beliefs aside, she had somehow managed never to have seen The Empire Strikes Back, and my other coworker angrily berated me for having so rudely failed to take that possibility to into account. This was, I should point out, in 2007, when the film in question, available in multiple formats at that very moment, was approaching 27 years old.

'Fuck your spoilerphobia,' I wanted to say, 'and fuck you for making the rest of us cater to your refusal to participate in the culture at large in a timely manner.' I didn't say this because I was too busy being mystified by the idea that a nearly 30 year old reference so widely known even your parents get it can in any way be spoiled; plus I didn't want to get fired. But I can say it now, so please reread that first sentence, and commit it to memory. Because it's not the job of the rest of us to forever protect the precious your virginal ears from finding out things so widely known they've become cliches.

What makes the conversation about spoilers so maddening is that the vast majority of novels, movies, television programs, comics, you name it, do not contain stories that can actually be spoiled, at least not in the sense shrinking spoiler wimps mean. Much like how every religious person on earth is actually an atheist minus one in one form or another, you're already spoiled on almost everything ever written, and especially about things you've possibly never even read or seen. And frankly, it doesn't matter. Is Moby Dick really ruined by knowing before you read it that Ahab gets nearly his entire crew killed in the quest to kill the white whale? Hardly. Do you really need to be surprised by the revelation that 'Rosebud' is a sled in order to get the full Citizen Kane experience? Please.

You can argue that Spoilerphobia makes a kind of sense in the case of a story that contains an actual twist. Knowing that Bruce Willis is a ghost before you see The Sixth Sense takes a way some of the (limited) fun that film offers. And perhaps you'll want to experience the horrible fact that Battlestar Galactica ends approximately 150,000 years ago, on Earth, for yourself. If the surprise matters, then it's good to go in able to be surprised. But get the lead out and see them as quickly as you can, because these secrets are going to become public knowledge pretty quickly. Even if you fail to turn on your TV, open a book, or go to the movie theater in a timely fashion, you are guaranteed to be exposed to them regardless of your personal fastidiousness.

This makes the ardent hostility from people who hate being spoiled even more insufferable. These people insist the rest of the world cater to their nonparticipation in the same way parents expect the rest of us not to tell their special snowflakes that Santa Clause doesn't exist (Spoiler alert, kids: Santa isn't real. It's just your parents sneaking into the living room while you're asleep.) Not my job, people. Not my job.

Sure, out of politeness I'll refrain from spoiling something if I'm told in advance someone would prefer it remain secret. But that doesn't mean you get to be angry about stray references that might reveal plot points. Once something becomes part of the cultural conversation, it's up to those who refuse to take part to recuse themselves, not the other way around.

But there's something else worth considering, particularly when we're thinking about the importance of a good ending. A good story ought to remain good even if the story's gimmick no longer has any potency. Planet of the Apes remains thoroughly enjoyable even after you know what's coming because the film's actual themes have nothing to do with the reveal. On the other hand, try watching reruns of St. Elsewhere without laughing; no matter what you do, you can't escape the fact that the whole series is the delusional fantasy of an autistic kid. Lame. And that's the point: if the story loses entertainment value once the surprise is gone, then it's a bad story and it doesn't matter if you know the secret or not.

So consider this your warning: whatever we discuss in this space is going to be spoiled from here to hell and back.

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