Spoiling the fun?

I once leapt out of a train carriage because two strangers were loudly discussing the ending of the last Harry Potter book. Okay — I didn’t leap, but I did plug my ears and flee to another carriage.

- ANJUM NAWEED

Recently, I found myself in a similar predicament, trapped on a bus, entirely at the mercy of two passengers dissecting the Severance season two finale.

But not everyone shares my spoiler anxiety. I have friends who flip to the last page of a book before they’ve read the first one, or who look up the ending before hitting play. According to them, they simply need to know.

So why do some of us crave surprise and suspense, while others find comfort in instant resolution?

WHAT'S IN A SPOILER?

Spoilers have become a cultural flashpoint in the age of streaming, social media and shared fandoms.

Researchers define the term ‘spoiler’ as undesired information about how a narrative’s arc will conclude. I often hear “spoilers!” interjected mid-sentence, a desperate protest to protect narrative ignorance.

Hitchcock’s twist-heavy Psycho elevated spoiler sensitivity. Its release came with an anti-spoilers policy, including strict viewing times, lobby warnings recorded by the auteur himself, and even real policemen urging “total enjoyment.” A bold ad campaign implored audiences against “cheating yourselves.”

The twists were fiercely protected Even the Star Wars cast didn’t know Darth Vader’s paternity twist until premiere night. Avengers: Endgame filmed multiple endings and used fake scripting to mislead its stars. And Andrew Garfield flat-out lied about his return to Spider-Man: No Way Home — a performance worthy of an Oscar — all for the sake of fan surprise and enjoyment.