 And occasionally you can create extraordinary curiosity by seemingly breaking the rules of a conventional narrative. So the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones where half the principal characters are suddenly killed, for example. Or you have Shakespeare's Julius Caesar where the title character is dead pretty early on in the whole action. But some sort of curiosity, certainly if you want to create one of those long-running sagas, you either have to create the cliffhanger ending as Dickens, who was of course publishing in serial form, was an absolute master of that. Netflix has to understand how to do that and it's going to get us to sit down for four and a half hours in a pool of our own urine watching a film more or less until the early hours of the morning. I've had those Netflix moments where you suddenly realize the birds have started singing and you go, oh shit, I've really overdone this. And that's the kind of fantastic thing you can do to keep people hooked. And I think there's an important question here about the trade-off, which is you have to have a degree of unresolved tension or a degree of uncertainty. Obviously all crime drama has a wonderful who-done-it narrative structure, which keeps people hooked. Hitchcock was brilliant on the difference between fear and suspense. I think the difference is if a bomb goes off, it's frightening. If you have a couple in a car and you know there's a bomb ticking away in the boot, you've actually got them frightened for 10 minutes rather than 10 seconds. And so understanding that sort of unresolved tension is really interesting because you have to leave a certain amount unexplained. On the other hand, you can take that to an extreme where you lose the audience completely. I think that's partly where the balance lies. It's leaving enough unexplained or enough throwing enough mystery in to keep someone wanting more, while at the same time there's an opposite danger, which is you lose people completely. In other words, their level of comprehension is now so low that they're no longer invested in the story and they don't care. So you know, if you watch again, I'm a fan of French art house. No one expects me to be a fan of French art house. I don't like their cheese, but I kind of like their cinema. But you know, there are those sort of Rob Griers films from the late 60s, which are basically, you know, when a completely strange character walks in and appears to have nothing to do with the main narrative several times. After about the fourth occasion, you kind of lose, well, literally you lose the plot. But the vital thing is you have to, it's that old phrase, isn't it, which is when you're baiting a mouse trap, be sure to leave enough room for the mouse. And so that business where the person themselves, that the viewer is actually desperately trying to contribute part of the narrative as part of the sense making drive, seems to me a vitally important part in keeping people engaged for more than a certain amount of time. Great, great advertising often starts with something that doesn't appear to make sense. You know, you've immediately got someone's attention. It's the old journalistic trope of, you know, a dog bites man is not a story. Man bites dog is a story. And if you can start with something which, you know, no one's seen before and which appears to be completely incongruous and then make sense of it, that's a brilliant way of holding the attention.