The Art of Doing Nothing: Why 'Fishing with John' is a Masterpiece of Anti-Television
There’s something profoundly unsettling about a show where nothing happens. I mean, nothing. No plot twists, no dramatic arcs, no clear purpose. Yet, Fishing with John manages to be utterly captivating, even three decades after its debut. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it defies every convention of television. It’s not a fishing show, not a celebrity interview, and certainly not a comedy—at least not in the traditional sense. It’s a show about people who don’t know how to fish, trying to fish, while barely talking to each other. And yet, it’s brilliant.
The Genius of Awkward Silence
One thing that immediately stands out is the show’s embrace of silence. John Lurie and his celebrity guests—Tom Waits, Jim Jarmusch, Willem Dafoe, among others—spend hours sitting in boats or on ice, often saying nothing at all. From my perspective, this is where the show’s magic lies. In an era where television is obsessed with filling every second with noise, Fishing with John dares to let the void speak. It’s a direct challenge to Marshall McLuhan’s idea of TV as a ‘cool’ medium, demanding active participation from the viewer. Personally, I think this is what makes it so hypnotic. You’re not just watching; you’re forced to think, to fill in the gaps, to wonder what’s going on in these laconic minds.
What many people don’t realize is how radical this was for 1991. Television was still very much about spectacle, about keeping the audience hooked with constant stimulation. Fishing with John does the opposite. It’s anti-television in the purest sense, a middle finger to the medium’s conventions. And yet, it’s not pretentious. It’s just… there. Like a Zen koan in the form of a TV show.
The Celebrity Factor: Why It’s Not About the Stars
You’d think a show with A-list celebrities would be all about their charisma, their stories, their star power. But here’s the twist: Fishing with John doesn’t care about any of that. Lurie’s guests are often awkward, rambling, or completely uninterested in the activity at hand. Take the episode with Willem Dafoe, where they go ice fishing, run out of food, and seemingly starve to death. It’s absurd, but it’s also strangely relatable. If you take a step back and think about it, this is what real life is like—moments of boredom punctuated by fleeting absurdity.
What this really suggests is that the show isn’t about the celebrities; it’s about the space they occupy. Lurie isn’t trying to extract juicy anecdotes or deep insights from his guests. He’s just putting them in a situation where they have to be themselves, or at least some version of themselves. And that’s where the show becomes a study of human behavior. It’s not about fishing; it’s about the act of trying to connect, even when there’s nothing to say.
The Cult of the Criterion Collection
The fact that Fishing with John was released on Criterion Collection DVD in 1999 is a testament to its enduring appeal. Criterion doesn’t just pick any show; they pick art. And that’s exactly what this is—a piece of art disguised as a TV series. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it’s aged. In the ‘90s, it was a bizarre anomaly. Today, it feels like a time capsule of a bygone era, when television could still be experimental without being self-conscious about it.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the show’s legacy has evolved. Its 2021 reboot, Painting with John, is more structured, more personal, but it still carries the DNA of its predecessor. Lurie’s willingness to let the camera roll while he paints, talks, and reminisces is a direct descendant of the unstructured chaos of Fishing with John. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘This is what art looks like when you stop trying to make it perfect.’
Why It Matters: The Power of Doing Nothing
In a world where every minute of our lives is curated, edited, and optimized for engagement, Fishing with John is a rebellion. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound moments are the ones where nothing happens. Personally, I think this is why the show resonates so deeply with its cult following. It’s not just a TV show; it’s an experience, a meditation on the beauty of inaction.
If you take a step back and think about it, the show’s greatest achievement is its ability to make you feel something without trying. It doesn’t manipulate your emotions or force a narrative. It just exists, and in that existence, it becomes something greater than the sum of its parts. This raises a deeper question: What if the most revolutionary art is the kind that refuses to entertain?
Final Thoughts: A Relic and a Prophecy
Fishing with John is both a relic of the ‘90s and a prophecy for the future of television. It’s bizarre, it’s hypnotic, and it’s utterly unique. In my opinion, it’s one of the best TV projects of its decade, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s imperfect in all the right ways. It’s a show that doesn’t care if you like it, and that’s precisely why it’s so likable.
So, the next time you find yourself scrolling through endless streams of content, take a moment to remember Fishing with John. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best stories are the ones that don’t try to tell you anything at all.
