Third episodes are now the most experimental place on TV

Indeed, it’s no coincidence that these signature third episodes started to pop up just as the era of Peak TV was ending. The combination of the COVID-19 pandemic and the 2023 Hollywood strikes transformed television production such that two-year waits for eight-episode seasons increasingly became the norm, even as TikTok-addled attention spans, those long gaps between seasons, and the sense that any show could be cancelled at any time made it harder for audiences to sign up for a new series. We’re now in an age that you might call Limited TV, which holds itself to the high standards of Peak TV and the Golden Age that preceded it, but with a lower volume of programs made and renewals handed out. That makes it more important than ever for shows to define their voice and pull in audiences early, rather than relying on a slow build of momentum over time. A standout third episode means you can hook new viewers while there’s still plenty of season ahead, rather than once it’s almost over.

Sometimes that means a splashy gimmick, like when Ncuti Gatwa’s first season of Doctor Who brought back Steven Moffat to write an episode where the Doctor is standing on a landmine the whole hour. Other times, it’s an unexpected shift to a new set of characters. Pulling from the “Long, Long Time” template, the third episode of Heated Rivalry paused its central love story to explore a parallel romance for hockey player Scott Hunter (François Arnaud) and smoothie barista Kip Grady (Robbie G.K.). It was an early hint that showrunner Jacob Tierney could do more than just write smutty hotel room scenes—not to mention a new jumping on point for audiences who prefer their romances less tortured than the one at the show’s center.  

In fact, it often feels like these experimental third hours are as much for the writers and actors as they are for the audience. While Limited TV emerged in response to new challenges of production logistics—less money, lower episode counts, smaller writing staffs—showrunners are now trying to find new ways to creatively innovate within those demands. Even a show like Netflix’s Adolescence, which dropped as a binge and boasted a grabby one-take gimmick, took the chance to mix things up in its third episode. As with Lanterns, it’s an hour that narrows its focus to an insular character study as 13-year-old murderer Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper) sits down for a mandatory evaluation session with forensic psychologist Briony Ariston (Erin Doherty). After two episodes that largely emphasized technical wizardry, Adolescence proved it could be just as captivating with a shifting, multilayered hour-long conversation.

Though this week’s Lanterns shares a little DNA with TV’s concurrent love of a penultimate flashback episode, it’s really more akin to that Adolescence installment—or to the stellar third episode of House Of The Dragon’s third season, which traded violent spectacle for a focus on the mundane stresses that come from actually ruling a kingdom. The point of these innovative third hours isn’t to provide easy “origin story” reveals; it’s to raise questions about how people are shaped by the worlds in which they exist and the ways in which they were raised. We’re not meant to come away from “Rhaenyra Triumphant” with clear-cut answers about what Rhaenyra Targaryen (Emma D’Arcy) is doing right or wrong as a leader. We’re meant to understand how impossible her position truly is.

There’s a similar energy to “OutKast,” which is interested in the limitations of its characters’ perspectives. John’s mom Bernadette (Jasmine Cephas Jones) assumes it was pure privilege that got Hal the Green Lantern ring, without realizing it was grief and loneliness that made him a more suitable candidate than a loving family man. In trying to give her son a better future, she winds up replicating Hal’s emotional isolation, a plan that works—but at what cost? Had “OutKast” come late into the season, John’s backstory might have felt like a twist. This early, however, it feels like a thematic statement of purpose about the depth lurking beneath the show’s simple surface pleasures.