Seite - 123 - in JRFM - Journal Religion Film Media, Band 04/02

122 | Richard Goodwin www.jrfm.eu 2018, 4/2, 121–125 ity, and ritual (22–35). The net result is a study interested not so much in theology on TV as in a theology of and (to a lesser extent) through TV. Chapters 1–3 seek to understand TV on its own terms, asking first how to de- fine TV (a surprisingly complex task, thanks to technological developments that have given the designation “TV” an “increasingly symbolic” function [22]), before dedicating significant space to developing the analytical tools essential for tel- evisual “literacy”. Chapters 4–7 are more directly theological, exploring the telos of TV, historic Christian approaches to the medium, TV as mediating God’s rev- elatory presence, and, finally, consideration of ethics. The structure reflects the method: TV first, theology second. This is not to say that theology is subordinated to TV – not at all! – but simply that in the subtitular dialogue between TV and theology, the authors’ “primary impulse is to listen rather than speak, to set aside our own agendas and presuppositions for the sake of honouring our conversa- tion partners” (13). Granting methodological priority to TV is presented as an act of Christian hospitality and as a more realistic approach for a post-Christendom culture in which Christian theology can no longer assume it has the first word (15). Though certainly a work of legitimate scholarship, Watching TV Religiously is fun and even funny – appropriately enough for a book about a medium largely associated with leisure. For example, the writers use the analogy of a jury to ex- plain the internal workings of the TV writers’ room and claim that this analogy is an allusion not to the film 12 Angry Men (Sidney Lumet, US 1957) starring Henry Fonda (or the eponymous play), but rather to a derivative episode of Happy Days (Jerry Paris, US 1978). In defence of this claim, they write facetiously that “this is a book about TV, so on these pages, Mr. Fonzarelli’s coolness trumps Mr. Fon- da’s” (72). And to express their skepticism about the findings of a Netflix-funded study into viewers’ binge-watching habits, they sarcastically quip, “This of course is a completely trustworthy statistic. As everyone knows, human beings never attempt to mislead others about their unsavoury behaviors” (19). Batali’s day job as a TV comedy writer has apparently informed the tone – and the book is the better for it. Humour aside, the writing style is down-to-earth. There are no instances of scholarly obfuscation, no intractable tangles of clunky academic prose. Instead, the writing is lucid and elegant – the way academic writing should be. It is one of the most accessible theological texts I have ever read, understand- able to a wide range of readers in a manner befitting a populist medium. The style, however, does not compromise the substance. The book is weighty and insightful. One of its key strengths, already alluded to, is the holistic way in which it comes at the topic, engaging TV in terms of, yes, “text” – or, better, trace – but also of process and practice. Regarding process, Batali’s contribu- tion is invaluable. His career as a TV writer yields useful insights into how TV shows are written. Perhaps even more helpful, I think, is the focus on audience reception. To my mind, elaborate scholarly “readings”, however clever they