1.a. & 1.b. Later I would learn that's a JJ Abrams hallmark. Take over something, get it kick-started with a lot of excitement, turn it over to somebody else and bail after a little bit, leaving them with a bunch of mystery-boxes you thought up and had zero clue where they would lead, but not care, 'cuz you're on to the next thing, lol.
2. Even later I would learn from one of the two main showrunners of Lost say in an interview that neither of them had much experience at the time, and Abrams just dumped all this stuff in their lap that he'd stuffed into the first few episodes, and basically said "See what you can do with this." They were further done in by ABC, which had originally ordered a limited run series from Abrams' company, and so the show was always sort of meant to be a one-off, single season story. Due to its quick and massive popularity, ABC turned around and told them "This is great! Give us multiple seasons worth!" At which point they were like "Crap. We don't have a story built for that." So they wound up continually adding new mystery boxes and stuffing all new plot contrivances into the mix.
1.a. Jar Jar Abrams believes himself a cinematic visionary that deserves to get paid for the idea, as soon as the idea occurs to him, while everybody else gets stuck with the heavy lifting of aggrandizing his ideas into digestible film. And for the last 10 years Jar Jar Abrams isn't even capable of visionary excitement. Jar Jar Abrams as a visionary went out the window about a decade ago when Disney
cast him as director of the Force Awakens. Jar Jar Abrams' vision for Star War went no further than reformulating the story from New Hope. But in defense of Jar Jar Abrams, the studio (Disney) micromanaged the heck out of the new Star Wars trilogy.
1.b. Notice I specify Jar Jar Abrams as
cast as director. This is not an admitted practice, but the current practice of studios
casting directors and producers illustrates how the working relationship between directors and studios has flipped. Before Hollywood became overly corporatized about 15 years ago, it was the director who helmed the creative vision for the film to include finalizing the script and pre-casting the actors they wanted. The directors would then solicit their plans with the studios. In turn, bankrolling by the studio granted the studio a certain amount of leverage with the script, casting, and other creative decisions. This leverage was mediated by the producers, and it was usually understood the director was a 51% shareholder. Fast forward to now and the studios are where ideas for films originate, and their plans are almost always an endless repackaging of an existing franchise. Because a franchise, such as Indiana Jones, are treated as too valuable to fully entrust to the creative vision of any one director, directors are now cast as dispensably as supporting actors, with the understanding that the studio fully controls the product. And Jar Jar Abrams is a very cast-able (controllable) director.
2. Not sure how many of us have noticed by now, but Netflix's original content is at its best and most culturally relevant when intended as a limited series. Queen's Gambit, Monsters, A Nearly Normal Family, Stranger Things S1, Squid Games S1, One Piece S1, WandaVision (Disney+). It's Netflix's second seasons where quality noticeably drops off; like feature films, second seasons also fall under the sequel syndrome. Netflix knows this but it's difficult to turn down the astronomical demand for a season 2 following the S1 success of a show like Squid Games.
A newly released show I'm currently watching is Paradise (Hulu). Even though it's pulling from a few already well used Sci-Fi scenarios, it is
so well executed as to be a thoroughly fascinating and satisfying watch. Currently Paradise is intended as a limited series - 8 total episodes. And without getting ahead of expectations, I can already sense a potential season 2 will feel forced.
