On COPS
The best part of the show COPS wasn’t the car chases. It wasn’t the drug busts or drunken bar fights. The best part of COPS was the pensive moments right before they cut to a commercial.
This is when someone (often an officer) would speak over their shoulder to the camera and explain the scene that just unfolded. Sometimes they were sincere. Sometimes funny. But no matter what was said, when that COPS logo appeared, it made the entire scene feel profound.
This was the basic formula:
- Close up of the interviewee
- Interviewee laments that things aren’t like the good ol’ days
- Interviewee’s voice continues as the screen fades to black
- COPS logo fades in
Practically speaking this was an effective narrative device that gave the viewer a sense of closure. But it was so much more than that. That combination of logo and voice-over somehow gave the interviewee’s words deep significance.
They didn’t have to say much. Even if Officer Smith only spoke a sentence or two about the crack epidemic, when the screen faded to black and the logo appeared, his words lingered thick with meaning. The effect gave the viewer a (perceived) deeper understanding of the event that just occurred. You didn’t need to know the background of the crack addict, or the poor economic conditions in her hometown of Detroit. You felt it.
I’m torn.
Part of me hates this all-powerful logo which supposedly creates meaning from thin air. But another part of me really likes it.
The problem is, after the logo has worked it’s magic, your new understanding about the scene you just watched isn’t true. No new facts were revealed. It just felt like it. To use an analogy, that magical COPS logo delivered the same satisfaction you’d get after reading a good book, but without having to actually read or internalize it. It’s a hollow victory.
But I still loved these transitions. I liked hearing how the officers perceived the situation (even if they were glib). And I liked thinking that the upset mom whose son was stabbed got justice (even if we never saw that her son assaulted the guy’s sister first). I liked thinking that those teenagers drinking was just a case of boys being boys (and not a result of a chaotic home life). These thoughts that the logo encouraged felt good even if they weren’t true.
I’m certain that David Foster Wallace, a self-proclaimed American culture and T.V. aficionado liked these transitions. In fact they feel strikingly familiar to the end of several chapters in Infinite Jest, where some small scene gets examined as the chapter fades to black.
Fargo too! The end of Fargo feels like the end of a COPS episode.
I don’t know why these transitions had such an effect on me. They’re unremarkable, but they work. Collectively their message is clear: It’s a rough world out there.