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“The age of writers and showrunners being anonymous is over.” - Steven DeKnight, Spartacus: War of the Damned (2010) showrunner.

Years ago, the production of television shows was something the regular person didn’t know anything about. Shows were just there, through some Hollywood mysticism performed by various behind-the-scenes people nobody knew, or really cared to know. The show’s stars were the only names people recognized. It didn’t matter who wrote or directed.

It wasn’t important who was making the sausage, so long as it ended up on the plate and tasted good.

Then the internet came along. As it grew, people realized they could discuss things with others. They could share ideas and information. They could talk about anything, including television, in a way they couldn’t before. And they could get insight and information about the programs they watched on a level to which they previously weren’t privy. Showrunners (2014) lets many of its subjects talk about this subject, for better or for worse.

You used to know who wrote an episode of TV by seeing their name in the credits, and that was about as far as it went. Now, you can look up that writer on the internet, see what other episodes they’ve done, see what other programs they’ve worked on, and become a fan of their work. The internet has turned all those miscellaneous names in television credits into real people, and the leader of those names is the showrunner. The showrunner is responsible for everything - writing, overseeing the writing staff, handling production, meeting deadlines, balancing schedules, keeping the program within budget, and a thousand other things.

As Big Bang Theory (2007) showrunner Bill Prady puts it in the documentary, it’s the “single best and worst job” imaginable.

Showrunners are now seen as the champions of the projects they oversee. While the documentary emphasizes the collaborative nature of television production, it still (obviously) glamorizes the showrunner as the one in charge of everything. When showrunners do a good job, they become household names. Before the age of modern technology, the internet, and the discourse it has brought about, that never would have been the case.

Now that internet transparency lets people know who’s behind the scenes, audiences can examine and understand changes within the programming. The Walking Dead (2010) underwent a significant change in structure, quality, and pace when Glen Mazzara stepped down as showrunner to be replaced by Scott M. Gimple. Historically, such a move would be publicly unknown. Now, it’s a huge deal. Gimple is a face people know. He’s admired for his writing skills on fan-favorite episodes like “Clear” and “No Sanctuary,” and is a presence as in-demand as the show’s lead actors at conventions like Comic Con and on the series’ behind-the-scenes companion program Talking Dead (2010).

Plus, showrunners are the one single person fans know have all the answers to their questions. Their public presence is now expected, as they’re the boss of all information regarding a show. In the film, Damon Lindelof discusses how his public appearances on talk shows and the internet were what kept Lost (2004) fans going. The show was so large and complex, not engaging the audience and “not talking about the show would have hurt the show,” he says.

Most showrunners started out as writers. It’s no surprise to hear them all refer to good writing as the heartbeat of a successful television show. And thanks to the internet, writers are getting greater public recognition for their work.

The documentary is an excellent watch for those with ambitions of becoming a television writer, as many of the interviewees tell the stories of how they first entered the business. (Ronald D. Moore, showrunner of Battlestar Galactica (2004), started as a Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987) writer after handing a spec script to Gene Roddenberry’s assistant. The Trek producers liked it, bought it, then hired him as a staff writer. Moore was on set that day and able to hand in the spec because he was dating a girl who worked on the show.)

What celebritizing showrunners has done is not only drawn attention to the great number of people involved with producing television, but it establishes expectations from certain individuals after they helm a show that becomes a great success. This isn’t necessarily a good thing, but it is the nature of the beast.

Vince Gilligan. Joss Whedon. Damon Lindelof. J.J. Abrams. Hart Hanson. These names mean something to the public. They are all people who launched their careers through showrunning massively successful programs, and each name calls to mind a certain “style” of show based on that success.

Gilligan equals dark, extremely well-written drama.
Whedon equals inventive, genre-bending fantasy and sci-fi.
Lindelof equals shows nearly too complicated to understand.

Whether or not a showrunner follows a project with a comparable project, their celebrity status is beginning to typecast their abilities in the same manner as actors being typecasted to particular roles.

But showrunners do an unarguably complicated job. Modern dissemination of information is fantastic in that it allows recognition of these efforts. In the age of the internet and Comic Con and YouTube, the people behind the scenes will continue to have more ways to interact with the fans of the shows they’re making and gain recognition for their material.