Final Essay

I have chosen to write about essay question number six. It is a question that I have asked myself before: For whom should LDS authors write? I think there are two answers to this question. LDS authors first write for themselves and then others. Writing is meant to allow people to reflect on thoughts, ideas and experiences they have had. Writing can be a way to receive more insight or inspiration. It is a way for us to be still and receive revelation or peace in our journeyings. As for the others aspect of the answer to the question, there are two audiences for LDS literature. The first being the LDS believers and the second, those who have not yet come unto the fold of God.

The LDS believers need the stories of other believers to strengthen their faith. It is part of mourning with those who mourn. It is common that people receive answers to their prayers through others. LDS literature can be another tool for the Lord to answer the prayers of His children. This possibly can be true for non-members as well. The LDS community has been counseled to be good record keepers and this can very well be a form of record keeping. Even if the work that an LDS author works with is fiction, it is still a record of ideas and impressions. These works could potentially help our prosperities as well.

As for the non-LDS readers, the reading of LDS literature could help them get to know our faith. It is something that could lead to the conversion of many souls to Christ as testimonies are shared through life experiences and stories.

Something else important here and especially in our more modern times is that LDS literature starts conversations, opens hearts, and ultimately leads us to want to be better and more Christlike. Books, stories, and literature in general allows us to understand each other more and allows for empathy to grow within us.The importance of LDS Literature goes beyond our earthly scope and will until the end of times.

When it comes to marketing to a certain audience, there are possible problems that could surface. It is clear that something like the "Elect of Elohim" epic would have been hard to market to a more non-LDS audience because of its depth of doctrine that is within it. Without the doctrine, I don't think it would be too marketable and I don't think you'd want it to be because of how sacred of a story it is. I think the book Refuge would be more marketable to that global audience because it shows reality and some "not so Mormon" things within it which make it relatable. I think those two examples sort of paint a picture of what makes LDS literature marketable, how well and how correctly the works will be received according to their audiences. Finding a happy medium to which both audiences can be included would be ideal, but isn't always easy. Focusing on the importance of sacred doctrines would go over peoples' heads if they haven't internalized what they are.All of it is a challenge and as time goes on, the balance can be found.

Dorothy's Jer3miah Post

While I am not sure what I was expecting from the Jer3miah video series, the videos strayed from my previous my expectations. As made clear in the article read, this video is contemporary and engaging. It is not clearly didactic like other videos of its genre like Saturday’s Warrior, but remains interesting while staying within the LDS narrative. Jer3miah, however, is also entertaining outside of an LDS perspective. While it is clearly more relatable from an LDS perspective, (the opening scene where Jeremiah’s mother addresses his roommate and says, “I thought he was a returned missionary”), the mystery and suspense of the series is more similar to an action TV series. The minisodes were an effective way to format this series and maintain a level of interest in the viewer. 

While allusions to Jeremiah’s prophetic call is clear, it is also similar to modern day stories of Harry Potter or Percy Jackson where an unexpected hero is called. I think this is why a non LDS audience would be able to relate to it. As Latter-day Saints, I think we can relate to it in a way that we also receive spiritual promptings and can appreciate how BYU is different and at times a little quirky. I probably would not watch this show again but I did think it was interesting and different from the usual LDS videos that are often shown in seminary.

Jeremiah: Kendal's Response

This series was very entertaining, but also accurate in a fictional sense. It brings up a more modern Joseph Smith type of situation. I thought it was interesting because the story felt more personal because of it's modern nature. It all makes me wonder what it would be like to watch this series without having heard much in depth about the LDS faith. I probably wouldn't understand a lot of it, but may just be entertained by the plot and suspense just like any other thriller. I wonder if I would wonder at the origins of the plot or not. I wonder how or if this has been a tool used for missionary work in some way. Whatever may be the answer, I know that I enjoyed it and especially liked it because of the familiar places where the series was filmed. Being amongst the LDS community, I appreciated the funny references and connections made within the film. Those things caught my attention and kept me entertained. I can't help but make the connection that even though the film falls into the fiction category, there is still a personal nature to it. The fact that something like this could happen to any of us. Helped me reflect on maybe how I might've responded if what happened to Jeremiah happened to me.

Dorothy's Final Essay

The LDS literary canon is largely defined by LDS authors perception of the religion. While authorial intent is something to consider, I do not think that LDS authors need to be consumed with who their primary audience is. When expressing one’s faith it should be a genuine expression of beliefs and not altered to please a specific audience. I think it is encouraging when LDS authors define simple terms that are not familiar to someone outside of the LDS Church so that the context can be clear. I think many people use writing as a creative outlet to explore their own personal beliefs and doubts and that by trying to fit this writing to a specific audience, it limits the author. 

Regardless of the targeted audience, one’s beliefs might be challenged by those who believe otherwise. The representation of LGBTQ issues, Heavenly Mother, and as of more recent, the monetary value of the Church, are difficult topics to address when there is not a unanimous perspective from the LDS Church. Someone not familiar with the faith reading about these issues could be misled by an individual’s perspective that does not represent the opinion of the LDS Church. One would hope that someone reading about individual beliefs and faith systems would approach the topic objectively and strive to understand the greater good of why people participate in organized religion. 

Ashley Mae Hoiland’s book, One Hundred Birds Taught Me To Fly, finds a balance between writing for an LDS and non LDS audience. Hoiland admits that she does not have all of the answers and writes in poetry and prose to capture the emotion she often feels within the faith. Hoiland’s work can be beneficial for both audiences because while it is LDS, she addresses larger themes of religion like the nature of God and how to continue to love those who have chosen a different life from your own. Hoiland addresses difficult topics but never belittles herself or her faith, but rather writes as a way to work out ideas she is having. This is successful to people part of the LDS Church and not part of the LDS Church because it provides a space for readers to dwell on these topics. 

Personally, I was not as interested in works like The Seventh Son, because I feel like it was specifically written for an LDS audience. The allusions to Joseph Smith and other modern day revelations made me feel like I needed a concrete understanding of these things in order to best comprehend the text. It was not as appealing to be constantly reminded of the LDS allusions, and I think it is more beneficial to write a larger audience in hopes that part of your work will resonate with someone regardless of their beliefs. Obviously not everyone is going to agree with your individual writings. I think often we shy away from addressing difficult topics because we do not know all of the answers, but I also think there is nothing wrong with questioning things in a positive way.

Jer3miah: Siera's Response

My first thoughts as the screen went black were, "That was good. Why was it so good?" As I pondered this question, here are the first things that came to mind. In my mind I would say that the first thing was the over all quality of the video, actors, and plot. Taking it outside the realm of LDS media for second, this story can stand on its own two feet (evident by the attention from the New York Times) it would have been good quality without the LDS cultural ties. The actors were good, the plot was multi-faceted, and the video was clear and well filmed.  

Now bringing it back to the LDS world it was not blatantly didactic. You knew that there were things that Jeremiah needed to learn and understand, but it wasn't clear. One scene that I feel like demonstrates this particularly well is when he goes to the concert instead of FHE. At first you think that the test was about whether or not he was going to go to FHE, but it was so much more complex than that. You couldn't pinpoint exactly where he went wrong and it seems like some of his bad actions led to him getting the box at the end. I also feel like it was also paying homage to sacred things though. Like revelation and foreordination. I feel like it is a dance to get that all right and the creator had all the right moves. 

I really what the review we read said about it. I feel like the story was authentic and that is what made it good.   

Final Essay: Should Latter-day Saint Authors Write for an Outside Audience?

Ultimately I believe that Latter-day Saint authors have a responsibility to write works with a non-LDS audience in mind. As time has passed and we have seen more representations of minority groups (women, African Americans, the LGBT community, etc.) in art, readers have rejoiced because these works give a taste of perspectives that have been hidden or oppressed for as long as literature has been around. We don’t dismiss their pieces of literature as something that should remain only within their communities. 

As a minority group, Latter-day Saints bear the same responsibility to let their voices be heard. In Davey Morrison’s introduction to Out of the Mount, he describes art as a proxy experience that “cultivates empathy, and empathy is perhaps the most profoundly godlike of attributes” (loc. 81, Kindle). 

In our quest for godhood, we want to develop that Christlike empathy, both in ourselves and others. And creativity is so embedded within our beliefs that we should feel a call to action to produce art. God himself is a creator; when we exercise creativity, we are exercising one of his greatest powers.

Despite this, there are disadvantages to targeting an outside audience. Orson Whitney instructed youth of the Church to produce a literature that gave glory to God, not to the authors themselves. He told them that literature needed to preach the gospel. Nephi Anderson’s novel Added Upon does this, and it sacrifices smooth characterization and plot in order to preach the plan of salvation. 

The LDS authors who do write for outsider audiences, such as Brandon Sanderson and Orson Scott Card, make only subtle, obscure references to Mormon beliefs. And if we targeted exclusively outside audiences,  there would be LDS literature that has value but would be dismissed because it is widely irrelevant; many of the quality poems in the Relief Society magazine or in the anthology Fire in the Pasture would leave outside readers baffled.

At the same time, however, there are messages in LDS literature that are relevant to and need to be shared with the world at large. One of the best ways to do this is through essays. Eugene England’s essay “Healing and Making Peace, in the Church and in the World” carries a profound message of our need to make peace with each other as fellow children of God. 

As a minority group, we have experiences we need to share so that the world can understand our perspective. James Goldberg’s play “Prodigal Son” portrays the grief that a son experiences when he converts to the LDS faith and earns the resentment of his father. Tessa Santiago’s essay “Take, Eat” is written from the perspective of a mother who watches her body go through the changes of childbearing; because she does this, she generates empathy even from audiences who are foreign to the experience of motherhood.

Overall, while it is difficult to write literature that targets both an LDS and non-LDS audience, it is essential for LDS authors to do so. When we do this, we raise awareness for ourselves and our community, create proxy experiences through which outside readers feel empathy for us, exercise our power as future Creators, and share messages of love and compassion that are relevant to all humanity. Through the gifts of art and writing, we can share our unique perspective.

Sharing Mormon Culture through The Book of Jer3miah

In our LDS literature class we talked about fiction as an effective tool for sharing aspects of Mormon culture and belief (many of which sound absurd to people of other faiths) in a comfortable environment.

The Book of Jer3miah was an excellent example of this. While the stories of the Three Nephites and Nephi slaying Laban are unfamiliar to a general audience, what is familiar to everyone is searching for a sense of identity and purpose. Though some people may not know the experience of having God ask them to do hard things or realizing that God is working through people in their lives, everyone asks the question of why life is hard, and everyone experiences tender mercies through friends. In this sense, the show’s themes about family, divine identity, and the purpose of life, though uniquely Mormon, are human enough to take on a broader audience.

The show was also able to present our belief in the Book of Mormon as scripture in a nonthreatening way. When Ammon gets shot in the chest and is saved by the Book of Mormon in his pocket, he refers to it as scripture and demonstrates that the scriptures protect us in more ways than one.

Though this show certainly doesn’t substitute for a missionary experience, it exposes Mormon culture interspersed with suspense and mystery in a way that no nonmember is going to look up from the screen and complain that they have been preached to.

Buckets's Final Essay Response

Which genre of LDS literature is most important? Use this question as a way of demonstrating your exposure to and understanding of many different genres for LDS literature. Be sure that you refer to specific genres, texts, and authors in doing so.

Considering everything we've read, I believe the personal essay, something more along the lines of Hoiland's One Hundred Birds Taught Me to Fly, is the most important LDS literature genre. The autobiographical nature helps realize the LDS environment without losing the soul of the questions being asked. Personal Essays stretch what the Church community could see as aesthetic while sincerely expanding the LDS communal sphere. Without the personal essay, we couldn't have Terry Tempest William's Refuge, or Eugene England's remarks in "Why the Church is as True as the Gospel."

I'd say the second most important genre would be fictional writing, along the lines of Martine Leavitt's My Book of Life by Angel. Leavitt weaves in some LDS concepts in the lives of other people, it creates a stronger doctrinal sympathy. LDS and non-LDS readers alike can discover their ideas bumping against each other in a more honest way, but fiction still displaces the reader. Science Fiction, like Orson Scott Card's Seventh Son, greatly explore LDS beliefs and culture, but it also feels like the only place the plot allows the LDS conversation to go is a string of hypothetical question, rather than the concrete nature of the conflicts and dialogue in personal essays. Kenny Kemp's The Welcoming Door is a similar fictional piece which is meant for Christians in general, but doesn't tease at the issues that lie in between the LDS community and general Christianity. Definitely important, but perhaps not pressing enough.

Another important genre to LDS literature is poetry, but I think that poetry has faded in its ability to enter into a widespread conversation. This doesn't detract from Darlene Young's beautiful, simple Homespun and Angel Feathers, which raises a lot of questions, oftentimes from within conservative Mormonism. But the aesthetic nature of poetic device detracts from the realities that the LDS community can cope with through literature. I think Eugene England ability to connect with the reader while connecting a web of non-traditional events, as he does in "Healing and Making Peace, in the Church and in the World" have a stronger effect. It will last longer for the reader.

Personal Essays also draw in the storytelling nature of Spencer W. Kimball's and Neal L. Maxwell's sermons, without the didactic touch. Sermons have their own literary style, but tend to be confined by common beliefs, stretching what we already have faith in, or clarifying those points. For instance, Joseph Smith needs to use logos to build upon the saints' common belief in the King Follett sermon. It cannot be given the immediate validation life experiences offer, where the reader is forced to approach from the author's perspective.

LDS Literature in visual media, such as the set of plays in Out of the Mount and the personal favorite Jer3miah mini-series, definitely has its place. Granted, more people will watch a short video than read a book or watch a play. As good and riveting as "Happy Little Secrets" and Homespun are, they don't as easily appeal to modern day reception. I know different Christian sects use the Church's Life of Christ bible videos, and the Book of Momon video production level is large enough to receive notoriety from the New York Times. The platform for LDS visual media is expanding, but I don't think it has cracked through the same intimacy that personal essays do. There also isn't a whole lot of "important" LDS films out there. I think that this genre will eventually become the most important aspect of LDS literature, but needs more time to develop.

When I think about Added Upon and the 19th century poetry (such as Snow's "A Morning View of the Prairie, Coolbrith's "Millenium), I see just how much LDS culture has expanded globally. Nephi Anderson's Added Upon stretched Orson F. Whitney's call for the Church's own "Miltons and Shakespeares," which I think we are still looking for. But the personal essay approaches literary discussion from a level which allows the writer to grow just as much as the reader. This growing experience which usually fortifies the faith without testifying, and humanizes the religion just enough to preserve its sacredness.

final essay

question six answer

A couple of years ago I was in a creative writing class and a peer wrote about polygamy. Feedback on her personal essay eventually devolved into a debate about whether her essay would work best for a Mormon audience or a non-Mormon audience. Either way, she would have to make drastic edits to make her work accessible or interesting to either demographic. In her essay, it seemed difficult to bridge the gap between the two audiences as well. The explanations she would have to give for polygamy would be different to non-Mormons or Mormons; the connotations would be different; the expectations for the story would be different. I think LDS authors can and should write to various demographics, but I think that writing to various demographics at once (or even for one author) is difficult. 

Added Upon, Jer3miah, and Homespun and Angel Feathers are all written (in my opinion) for an audience of Mormons (or people raised Mormon), who have a familiarity with the genre and doctrine of the content. Each of these works has an aspect of familiarity (to Mormons) while trying to be original. Added Upon takes familiar doctrine about the war in heaven and offers a new perspective. Jer3miah follows a narrative of a prophet, while subverting the familiar Mormon narrative as well. Homespun and Angel Feathers discusses plastic surgery, Joseph Smith, and aging in ways that are familiar but deconstructing. While non-Mormons may be drawn to these works, they seem to primarily resonate with Mormon audiences. The benefit of LDS authors writing to an LDS audience is that they can play on the familiar genres of conversion narratives, testimony narratives, and sermons and make them fresh. By taking a communal story and converting it to something less familiar can be a catalyst to greater perspective. 

LDS authors that write to a non-LDS audience experience various advantages as well. Martinne Leavitt does not write to an LDS audience. But the themes of turning to God echo throughout her work. Martinne Leavitt was able to inhabit tragedy authentically and with love. She could discuss topics that maybe she wouldn’t say in Sunday School because she wasn’t appealing to a strictly Mormon orthodoxy. I think that because her audience was designed to be Mormons, she could feel more confident saying that Angel was blessed with more work as a prostitute. I think that she would have had to justify that blessing more or acknowledged its implications had her audience been Mormon. Not having your audience be Mormon seems to allow an author a kind of freedom to not need to address Mormon topics or concerns head-on. She could tell the truth without being reductive, and without worrying if she was being “Mormon enough” because her goal wasn’t to “be Mormon” (though her Mormonism is reflected in her work). 

The tricky part for me, comes down to those authors who fall somewhere in the middle. Authors possibly like Ashley Mae Hoiland or Terry Tempest Williams. These authors aren’t strictly defending the faith, they sometimes have critiques of their faith or unorthodox beliefs in their Mormonism. The authors that problematize orthodoxy are tricky to pin down. Williams speaks of a Heavenly Mother, that is a topic that can be alienating to some Mormons and in order for those orthodox Mormons to feel comfortable, that concept might need scaffolding. But, if there is too much scaffolding, the justification of female divinity might alienate non-Mormon readers. 

They wander between roads, stumbling between audiences, and perhaps internal beliefs as well. They seem to especially not belong for a non-Mormon demographic, because how can the unorthodox critics speak for the group? But they also seem to not be wholly welcomed, or at least applauded, by the orthodox. Hoiland said that she didn’t want to pull the weight of an entire religion, so in her second memoir, she left out her Mormonism all together. It seems difficult for authors to exist in that in between space. To carry the weight of Mormonism they aren’t sure if they want to bear. They exist between cracks and between tribes. This is complicated for an audience and author. 

And yet, I find myself longing for these stories. These stories that push narrative and assert that Mormonism is bound together by doctrine, and that doctrine is explored by adventurous disciples who aren’t afraid to question and to seek and to dare in their writing and in their faith. I think most LDS authors do this a little bit. But I believe those authors that exist in-between demographics are especially daring. Perhaps there are many of these writers, in-between demographics, that keep their work to themselves. I hope they share it. I believe the Latter-day Saints are a story-telling folk. We cherish tales that bond us and challenge us and excite us. I think we are ready to cherish all the stories of the subversive Mormons, of the stalwart Mormons, of the “my audience isn’t just Mormons” Mormons. There is strength in story.

Jer3miah Response

I am a little embarrassed to say I turned the lights on about thirty minutes in because it got a little eerie for me.

The article we read called this miniseries a "criss cross with Mormon folklore and scripture" and that could not be more apt. The communion of familiarity and discomfort felt almost sinister at times. In some ways, the story felt familiar to the stories of many prophets I was raised hearing about: Joseph Smith, Abraham, Nephi, Jonah, etc. The protagonist has a predestined role that he is shocked by and expected, he is reluctant to fill the role and willing. He exudes internal conflict. The eerie tone of this production added another layer of alienation to an audience that should be familiar with a prophet storyline.

I immediately upon starting this show realized I had paradigms for how I expected this story to go. And throughout the whole show, I kept trying to make this unexpected storyline fit into my preconceived ideas about it.

I actually think the ways the miniseries plays on expectations and de-familiarizes the audience worked really well. I read stories about prophets so often; I know these stories by heart. In a way, the stories have lost their authentic frightening reality to me. I forget how absolutely terrifying it must have been for Abraham to be told to kill his son. I don't consider the possible trauma Nephi felt about killing Laban. I don't even often think about the disorientation and constant fear felt by prophets who lived during all the "secret combination" parts of the Book of Mormon. Watching this show, I realized how nervous I was. I felt disoriented sometimes about who was good or bad. I felt morally conflicted about decisions that the protagonist needed to make. I felt confused about the promptings he was receiving. I felt nervous. I also felt conviction. And promise and hope. I think this miniseries nailed some feelings that were present in our prophet stories that we have lost as they have become simply stories. The test of faith was scary. It wouldn't be different necessarily just because the calling was a bigger calling.

While I would consider this miniseries orthodox, it brings up less-spoken about ideas in Mormonism that I hadn't considered. (Like those mentioned above.)

Honestly, it was a weird show and I don't want to rewatch it, BUT I think I will find myself talking about it more than I intend to because I can't think of a work or text that helped me contextualize the idea of an unknown familiar spiritual heritage in the way Jer3miah did for me. 

Jer3miah: Difficulty of following God

Before watching Jer3miah, I was definitely spectacle to actually enjoying it. I figured that any two-hour, student produced, Mormon-themed series wouldn’t be to my liking. On the contrary, however, I couldn’t stop watching. The plot was both interesting and deep, with plenty of room for interpretation and creative ties to Mormon culture. There were a few themes that I specifically identified with, and that I think would be really good for young Mormon teens to hear.

When Jeremiah is talking to Porter about having to kill that man, and how God commanded him to do it, Jeremiah expresses his frustration with following God’s commands. Porter reminds Jeremiah that just because what we do is difficult, does not make it wrong. This is a good message for any member of the church to be reminded of as we strive to figure out what path we want to follow in life. Jeremiah is on a continual journey of self-discovery that is relatable for many people trying to do what God wants them to do, and may doubt themselves to God when things get tough.

The article brought up and interesting comparison to Joseph Smith. I had also noticed this while watching, seeing how this kid struggled with his own worthiness, the extremity of what was being required of him, and the outside forces battling against him. This show is a good reminder of how Mormon theology can be applied to our lives in so many ways.

Jer3miah: Is it the medium, or its proximity

As I’ve reflected on what makes this film series stand out among other LDS Christian literature, I’m beginning to think it’s the medium. For a very long time, LDS members experienced difficult trials. We have record and journals of the early saints, their hardships, difficulties, even deaths. They fought for what they believed in, yet still were expected to exercise peace and love towards their foes. Individuals in the Book of Mormon also killed because God commanded them. Still, the severity of these things perhaps isn’t fully realized through the literature we read. Perhaps, the light in our minds isn’t triggered only because of the medium, but possibly it’s because time and space have distanced us from the past. 

            The film series Jer3miah addresses both these issues. It’s set in the present, at BYU, which many refer to as “The Lord’s University.” However, the film series’ closeness in proximity and time changes the feeling of BYU as a “safe place.”  It shadows things that LDS Christian audiences have read, but demonstrates them on a level that BYU students such as myself can connect. For example, the themes of controversial spiritual promptings, struggles of adoption, the importance of ancestral ties, and the overarching battle between good and evil, trigger a new sense of devotion for LDS members. While some view the secret combinations and supernatural good against supernatural evil as thrilling, this film series strikes a chord with believers, of the validity of the spiritual battle, which rages around us. We cannot see, cannot understand it. As the supernatural power protects Jeremiah from the supernatural evil, as a Judeo-Christian audience, we too strive for protection among the evils that govern this world, viewing Jeremiah’s fictional experience almost more realistic and more relatable than the historical events as recorded in the Book of Mormon and Church History. 

Henry's Final Essay

LDS authors face a difficult challenge in their writings. There is a distinct set of values within the LDS culture that the writing must fit under in order to be considered “LDS literature.” This raises the question, however, of who the audience should be for works that qualify as LDS literature. There are pros and cons to both sides of whether said literature should be intended for primarily member audiences or non-member audiences. For the outcome that I see most effective, LDS literature should be written for a member audience.

The advantage of creating works that are intended for LDS audiences are that they are a great way for members to connect with ideas they are already familiar with, to ideas that are perhaps more unique and unencountered in Sunday school. If an author is writing a science fiction piece, like Seventh Son for example, the author is able to create a thoughtful space for the reader to experiment and think about the gospel and its teachings in a deeper way. Another advantage is that if the book or media is explicitly LDS themed, the audience is going to be majority LDS anyways, so it might as well be intended for them. If an LDS-themed piece is read by a non-member who is unfamiliar with the church’s theology and teachings, the main point of the story will be lost on them. The same principle, however, does not apply for Christianity. Christian literature is a good way for those who are unfamiliar with its ideology to learn Christian values on a general level. For the most part, LDS theology can be a little too complex for someone to understand when mixed in with other literary tropes.

The disadvantages of writing exclusively for an LDS audience is that, like I stated above, it limits the available or interested audience. A piece of work that is advertised as LDS will likely dissuade audiences from being interested in it. Something like My Book of Life by Angel is a great example of a story with LDS themes, but still relatable to a wide audience. A book like this is a perfect opportunity for non-members to connect with certain teachings of the gospel, yet aren’t necessarily explicit in the text itself. When LDS authors make their work for all audiences, they run the risk of incorporating false doctrine and confusing those who do not already have a solid grasp of the teachings. Mixing in narratives of fantasy, sci-fi, or drama with LDS doctrine can distort the intended LDS message.

Overall, it is a better option to limit LDS writing to LDS audiences. This way, the church can control what messages are being put out into the world and make sure that nothing they don’t want written about them is being written.

Jer3miah: Not your Mother's Web-Series

Jer3miah's greatest travesty is that it launched during a time when Netflix came on DVDs, YouTube superstars didn't exist, and most BYU-students used the internet for Homestar Runner. The camera-work and acting suffice, and the plot is enough to justify a cult-following (pun semi-intended), and 2019 internet cult-followings often burst into the mainstream.
Perhaps the most sinister aspect of the movie to the member viewer is the holy spirit's still small voice being so intense. There is hardly any moment in Jer3miah where Godly promptings reflect the "warm fuzzies" so many members cling to. Instead it remains somewhere between Poltergeist and Field of Dreams. Additionally, this BYU-produced script to raise so many questions without answering them, such as "how can one of the three Nephites have progeny?" "Are the Bluetooth part of a trial or a true secret combination?' or, similar to Brad Pitt, "What's in the $@%* box?"
I watched this on Sunday, not expecting a conspiracy thriller. And while Jer3miah pushes against almost every other Church-released film, the genre still connects with a member on a personal level--the fear that something could be undermining what you believe to be true is reality. In that sense, no matter how much the finale closes in broad daylight, it is all the more a horror movie.

I know the instructions said about 200 words and I already hit my limit, so the rest is gravy. This script is impressive. It's no one-trick pony. And the audio input is also used impressively for the most part, though it did intrude on the plot once or twice. For a ragtag min-series the sound mixing held up, even if they forgot their job in episode 7.
There were multiple shots in each episode which are artistic, borderline elegant. You can argue that the most impressive part of the series is the cinematography, especially how it offered itself to several techniques on broader genres. The first few episodes are clever, suspenseful, and plain surprising. The camcorder-style of recording matched with the confusion and lack of information immediately brought me to The Blair Witch Project, one of the scariest movies ever made. Flickering lights, lowering truckers, whiny parents, let's just say I was practically pleased to find out his parents died and this wasn't going to be two hours of complete suspense.
Another point I want to highlight--The most dangerous character outside of "the bad guys" is his conspiracy-minded roommate. While he is not explicitly characterized as against Jeremiah, he continues to be more harm than help. What message does it send that just as dangerous as secret combinations are those who are always trying to find them?
Lastly, on a personal note, I texted my brother about this miniseries. It came out while he was at BYU. He said he never heard of it, even with the extensive trans-media that was coupled with its production. But he was a poli-sci major, so what does he know.