Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | TV | January 21, 2026
I need to tell you all something. Something huge. Something that’s going to blow your mind. You’re never going to believe it. It will raise the hair on your arms. It might even make you pee a little. It’s that big.
But first, let me back up and give you about eight paragraphs of context.
And that, folks, is In Medias Res, or “a narrative technique where a story begins in the midst of the action or plot, rather than at the chronological beginning, plunging readers directly into conflict or intrigue to immediately hook them, with backstory revealed later through flashbacks.”
It’s killing me.
I’m not the first to complain about it (and I won’t be the last), but I am so tired of every streaming series and movie White Lotus-ing a dead body in the first five minutes before jumping back in time 24 hours, or 48 hours, or six weeks. It’s maddening. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned storytelling? (Another reason I like The Pitt so much: The story unfolds chronologically, hour by hour.)
In Medias Res is obviously not a new narrative technique. It’s been employed in crime novels forever, and historically, it has often been used to brilliant effect. For instance, the opening of Breaking Bad sees Walter White in his tighty whities, standing in the middle of the road after an RV crash, pointing a gun before the narrative jumps back in time.
But the difference between the Breaking Bad opening and the proliferation of them now is this: Breaking Bad posed a thematic question: How did Walter White end up in his underwear holding a gun? Every other series since then, seemingly, asks the question: Will you keep watching?
It’s largely Netflix’s fault. The binge model does not reward patience. Not only does every episode need to end with a cliffhanger, but every movie and series has to hook viewers in the first five minutes. Ozar, You, The Queen’s Gambit, The Night Agent, Black Rabbit. They all do it. I was reminded of this again, reading about Matt Damon’s interview on Joe Rogan, where he said that Netflix asked them to structure films around three big set pieces: one in the first act, one in the second, and the biggest in the third. The first large action beat, however, needs to land in the first five minutes.
It’s why The Rip opens with a murder. It’s why His & Hers opens with a dead body.
It’s no longer a storytelling device. It’s viewer retention dictated by an algorithm. And Netflix has shoved it down our throats so aggressively that we’ve been forced to learn Latin phrases to describe it. Also, Hoc me ad insaniam agit, or: it is driving me insane.
