I recently got into an online discussion on fanservice. Is it always a bad thing? Maybe writers should always give the people what they want. The term hardly needs defining, self-explanatory as it is. But to be clear, fanservice is adding elements to a story specifically designed to make the audience happy.
What could possibly go wrong?
When I worked in the coffee shop I was pretty good at upselling the drinks. “Yes, we can make you a hot chocolate. Would you like to add a shot of espresso and some powdered peanut butter to that?” New hires would sometimes balk at the idea, uncomfortable with seeing it as talking people into things. I looked at it differently. It wasn’t my job to give customers what they asked for. My job was to give them what they wanted, and they couldn’t know what they wanted unless I told them.
My conscience was clear.
Obviously, I wouldn’t take their order for a plain hot chocolate and give them a raspberry latte. No, I was there as a guide. The role of the storyteller is the same. We have to deliver on what Blake Snyder called the promise of the premise, so if a thrilling adventure is promised we can’t tell a story of internal struggle. But at the same time, the audience might appreciate a more nuanced look at the hero’s inner turmoil between thrills. And they might not know that until it’s presented as part of the whole.
Just like how peanut butter adds depth and texture to a hot chocolate.
This is not subversion.
I’ve seen a couple of movies that promised goofy adventure and subverted my expectations by giving me a message. Usually that message is men are pathetic creatures to be resented and loathed. All the ingredients of a story were there, and for the most part it delivered on the promised premise, right up to the very end when I found a dead rat in the bottom of my cup. Surprise!
Gross.
Sometimes it falls to a guide has to say, “No. I’m not taking you there.” Just because the tour group thinks going to the edge of the active volcano would be cool, the guide has to say not so much. In the terms of story, now we’re in the area of wants versus needs. The audience might want the main character to do or say or certain thing. It would be so cool! It would be so satisfying!
It would wreck everything that’s come before. Even if it technically fits within the premise.
Moments like that are what I think of when hear about fanservice. When a character does something that’s, well, out of character, for the sake of pleasing the audience, it’s a sort of betrayal. To the writer who carefully crafted that personality and breathed life into it. To the readers who know better. To the fans who deserve more than being pandered too. It’s not that people (real and imaginary) can’t surprise us. But there are limits.
When the cold-blooded mobster suddenly decides to dress like a pirate, maybe we’ve gone too far.
Ultimately, it falls to the writer to determine what the story needs, regardless of what fans want (or think they want). If he’s done a good job, the two things will be the same. The internal structure of the world must be maintained and anything, no matter how seemingly insignificant, that’s inconsistent to the established order cannot be permitted. You, the writer, are the expert of your world and it’s your sacred duty to be a trustworthy guide.
