‘13 Reasons Why’ Makes For a Weird Netflix Show Because It’s Anti-Binge

If you’re looking for controversial takes on the Netflix series 13 Reasons Why, you’ll have no problem finding them. Making a TV series where the premise is that a teenage girl who committed suicide leaves behind a series of cassette tapes as a kind of combination suicide letter and breadcrumb trail to unlock the mystery of her demise is morbid enough. To then use that as the basis for a show about teens and their problems is an invitation to controversy. But if we can set aside for a moment the issue of whether 13 Reasons Why should have been made at all, can we discuss the form and function of the series as it exists? Because while the show was compelling, sensitively acted, and (in this writer’s opinion) cognizant of the gravity of its subject matter and working hard to be responsible to it, it was also an often maddening series of logistical head scratchers. And at the center of it all, one question I was never able to fully shake: HOW DOES THIS KID NOT LISTEN TO ALL THE TAPES AT ONCE?

I’m not even trying to be glib here. Sure, it’s neatly ironic that the biggest flaw of this Netflix series is that its main character is weirdly opposed to binge-consumption of media, but it’s also a legitimate sinkhole in the middle of the show’s whole premise.

The way the series lays it out, Clay Jensen (Dylen Minnette), receives a box of audio cassettes on his doorstep, doesn’t know who sent them, and he spends half of the episode trying to find something to play them on. This kind of intentionally retro technology choice is purposefully annoying and a good fit with the story, so you won’t hear me complaining about why the audio recording isn’t on a flash drive or in the cloud or whatever. Hannah wants to make these jackasses from school work for it, and that’s fine. Hannah is Hannah Baker (Katherine Langford), who has very recently committed suicide. Clay’s getting the tapes because he’s mentioned on them. As he begins to listen, Hannah lays out the rules: listen to the tapes, then pass them on to the next person. There are seven tapes, with each side of each tape containing the account of why one particular individual contributed to Hannah’s suicide. Clay has no idea why he would have been sent these — and thus implicated as a cause of Hannah’s suicide — because she was his friend. He’s understandably distraught to find this out.

So what does he do? Well, obviously, he listens to each side of each tape individually, taking long breaks in between to have confrontations with his fellow high-schoolers, most of whom, as it turns out, are among the 13 reasons why Hannah killed herself. Thinking about this in terms of writing a 13-episode television series, this makes sense. 13 sides. 13 people. Each distinct story gets its own episode. This is why Justin’s to blame. This is why Jessica’s to blame. This is why Alex is to blame. And so on. Each episode adds new pieces to the puzzle that was Hannah. In essence, 13 Reasons Why becomes a mystery-box show, only the mystery ends up being the reason why a young girl killed herself. Dark, morbid, and above all episodic.

But for as much sense as it makes from a TV showrunner’s perspective to parcel out all this information one side of a tape at a time, it makes ZERO REAL-LIFE SENSE for Clay to move this slowly. It completely violates the suspension of disbelief. Clay gets these tapes that purport to tell him why his good friend killed herself and why he’s one of the reasons, and he decides to savor them one by one? Even the dullest among us could see that doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.

Every once in a while, the show tries to explain this away by showing that it’s too painful for Clay to keep listening. But as he continues to listen, he keeps unravelling the mystery, and we’re supposed to be right there with him, looking over his shoulder. But he’s not discovering clues. He’s not cracking the case. The case has been cracked, and is spilled out there on those tapes SO JUST TAKE A SICK DAY AND LISTEN TO THEM ALL FOR PETE’S SAKE. It’s like watching a detective story where the guy has all the evidence he needs to solve the case, only instead of presenting his findings, he wraps each piece of evidence in cellophane and then goes about slllllowly unwrapping each piece, over the course of two weeks.

Not only is it insane to ask the audience to accept this about Clay, it also means the narrative is annoyingly unbalanced for the entire run of the season. Every tape Clay listens to, he finds out more about the people who mistreated his friend. And as he learns these awful new things about his classmates, he confronts them. But since Clay is one of the last people on the list, that means everybody he ends up confronting knows way more than he does, because THEY’VE LISTENED TO ALL THE TAPES LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE WOULD. So it’s just a series of cryptic conversations that go something like this:

Clay: I know what you did to Hannah.
Other student: You don’t know the whole story.
Clay: Why am I on the tapes?
Other student: You haven’t figured it out yet?

AD freaking NAUSEAM. It’s infuriating. The entire reason Tony (Christian Navarro) exists as a character is to be the person who’s listened to all the tapes who then shows up and says something cryptic about Hannah that Clay hasn’t found out yet.

This didn’t necessarily have to unfold like this. The novel that the series is based on has Clay listen to the tapes all in one night; since the whole story of the book is laid out in those tapes, it makes sense. Present-day Clay is just a framing device. Understandably, showrunners Diana Son and Brian Yorkey wanted to open up the narrative a bit. But if they were so desperate to keep its 13-act structure, couldn’t have Hannah just hidden the tapes around town for Clay to find? Sort of a variation on the scavenger hunt in Gone Girl? She already went to the trouble of drawing a map of important locations – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say she also created this massive Easter egg hunt.

Instead we’re left with a compelling TV series with a crack in its foundation. It doesn’t ruin the show, exactly, but it is a constant nagging even when the show is at its best. The lesson, as Netflix would surely like you to learn it: always binge. Always.

Where to stream 13 Reasons Why