Sunday, June 28, 2015

Art imitating art imitating life

One reason television is important is that it can tell us something about our reality.  It can remind us where our societal emphases really lie; it can tell us what people think they want or need; it can use metaphor to say what direct speech may make hard.  It can remind us of hidden biases and assumptions.  In the case of “reality” television, If we look carefully, we can see a bunch of things that we may not have realized we needed to know about ourselves. Here’s a few:
  • That we inculcate our kids with ideas of normative beauty and commodification of expertise far earlier than we might have expected (Toddlers & Tiaras; Top Chef Juniors);
  • That we still cling to the erroneous belief that size and normative beauty are matters of personal choice and that our national narrative tying thinness and health is a transparent, albeit very stubborn, lie (The Biggest Loser; The Swan);
  • That we buy into a narrative of the wealthy as “saviors,” and the poorer are objects of scorn or derision (Extreme Makeover Home Edition; Deal or No Deal; The Briefcase);
  • That female promiscuity or lack of control is a shameful spectacle while male promiscuity or lack of control is at worst, foolhardy (compare treatment of men and women on Jersey Shore or Party Down South; keep in mind there’s no “Bad Boys’ Club” but there is a “Bad Girls’ Club”);
  • That we care more about whether something looks good than whether it has depth or longevity (Trading Spaces; Monster House);
  • That we believe that the “best” deserve a shot at success, but that we are ok with the gatekeepers of that shot being incumbent elites (Idol, SYTYCD, The Voice, Shark Tank);
  • That if someone’s rich enough, they needn’t bother trying to have perspective or respecting other people (Kardashians, Apprentice, Housewives, and a zillion other documentary-style shows);
  • That people will do pretty much any indignity for money (Wipeout, Hole in the Wall, Fear Factor);
  • That today’s America romanticizes and commodifies marriage as a marker of adulthood, without which someone (and particularly, women) can never be truly successful (Bachelor/Bachelorette)
...I could keep going with these for days, but I’d rather hear what you have to say.  What hidden biases and assumptions do you find embedded in “reality” TV?

Of course, “reality” show is a misnomer—most reality sub-genres are actually highly manufactured drama.  But the fact that we live in a time when highly manufactured drama passes for “reality” is itself interesting, and tells us something about our conceptions of authenticity. 

Scripted television, in contrast, has an unusual ability to make actual reality interesting.  Trying to portray what Dar Williams called “the gradual rise and fall of a daily victory” isn’t necessarily interesting.  But finding, distilling, and highlighting the human drama in the everyday can be as interesting as it gets.  That’s a tough line to walk. (For my taste, Mad Men fell on the wrong side of it, and Friday Night Lights fell gloriously on the right side of it.)  Even more importantly, identifying and calling out what society values, and shining a light on its errors, ironies, and injustices is something that television, as a medium, is especially well-suited to.  Satire and historical drama, at their best, can show us a sort of hyper-reality, focusing in on elements that make us realize that something in our own world is out of place.

This season’s brought us some historical drama, some satire, and some shows that mimic “reality” television.  Do they live up to their potential?

Aquarius (NBC, new.  Period crime drama.)

Watched: first 3 episodes

Premise:  in 1967, L.A. police investigate the Manson family.  Fictionalized account based partially on real events.

Promise:  Gorgeous production mimics the time and place well, and although I was skeptical of the partially-fictionalized account, it allows the writers to tailor the pace and drama.  So the show has great potential to highlight the pros and cons of the culture clash of the time like UK period procedural Inspector George Gently does, but it pulls many of its punches—its old-school cop (David Duchovny, for whom this is very much a star vehicle) has too many modern sympathies to quite hit that mark.  It touches on changing times, deceiving oneself, and the slow menace of comfort, but it’s not quite about anything, which takes away what could be a really interesting drive.  To the extent the show is about changing times, it doesn’t quite get there—the show gestures at differences, but they’re largely superficial; to make the characters sympathetic, the show doesn’t push hard enough at the pernicious racism, sexism, and other assumptions that could really drive home a “more things change, the more they stay the same” point.

One thing the show does play around with a good bit is liberation and freedom.  A soldier goes AWOL only to find he’s chased by the military police.  Women express their freedom by running away or being sexually promiscuous, but find that puts them right back at the mercy of men—and malicious men, at that.  Women’s sexuality is a lever used to control them, with the threat of rape and the illusion of choice.  Here, men have all the power to make decisions for themselves and the women around them, but even then they don’t know how to use it—the only one who affords himself true freedom (constrained only by his psychosis) is Manson.  This is another show where men’s only emotional outlet is anger, and here (as in other shows I’ve discussed), it manifests in that sort of “sweeping stuff off the desk” petulant rage at the imperfection of a world they mostly—but not entirely—control.  It would be easy to take a “don’t try too hard, you’ll only lose anyway” fatalism from the show, although I expect it’s not intended.  A better lesson, although I expect also unintended, is  that men are deeply emotional, and that a culture that doesn’t allow them to display those emotions is one where men do damage to themselves and others. 

Verdict:  fine, but I’d rather it more actively condemned the lack of freedom that it portrays. 

Another Period (Comedy Central, new.  Satire.)

Watched: pilot

Premise:  Kardashian-style faux-“reality” show set in turn of the 20th century Newport, Rhode Island.

Promise:  The idea is to send up the excesses of the docureality genre and the air of affected superiority, inconsiderateness, and anti-intellectualism that its denizens portray.  And it does that, although it also devolves into slapstick quickly, and goes for easy jokes about appearance and disability.  Some of those jokes work, others fall flat.  It has a lot of potential to skewer the genre (just think, Keeping up with the Kardashians meets Downton Abbey) and although it had flashes of sharp wit, it didn’t quite get there.

Verdict:  I want to give it another episode or two, but I’m not encouraged by the promo of episode 2 being about a male servant being “ravished.”

The Brink (HBO, new.  Satire.)

Watched: pilot

Premise:  The U.S. stands poised for a war with Pakistan and an in-country functionary (Jack Black) and dissolute Secretary of State (Tim Robbins) struggle to prevent.

Promise:  This show has a great cast and some amazing moments.  I love the premise, which really highlights how petty and ill-informed international politics can be.  It points up the that the people with their fingers on the button are in many ways likely to be just as selfish, childish, and distracted as any other human.  And it has a good mix of jabs and uppercuts.  But the two main characters are too similar to each other—both are boozy (or druggy) immature womanizers who mean well and stumble into partial success through a combination of savvy and luck.  I would rather see Black’s character be hapless, or competent but trapped, or just too happy-go-lucky for his job.  Instead, he’s constantly staring at the backsides of pretty ladies…which is the Secretary of State’s schtick.  What I’m saying here is, let’s spread out the archetypes, as British satire so often does so very well.  The world is a funnier place when not every man is a womanizer.

Verdict:  It has some really glowing moments, especially when Black’s character is interacting with his driver (Aasif Mandvi) and when Robbins’ character is interacting with his aide (Maribeth Monroe).  I just hit it hit harder and had more variety. 

UnREAL (Lifetime, new.  Drama.)

Watched:  first 4 episodes

Premise:  Machinations behind the scenes at the production of a Bachelor-style reality show.

Promise:  Shiri Appelby skillfully portrays the main character, a producer of the show whose chief job—at which she is extremely, troublingly good—is to manipulate the contestants into making bad decisions (i.e., "good TV").  She’s sympathetic as a villain who knows, and regrets, that she’s a villain; a feminist who knows, and regrets, that perhaps her most valued skill is setting back the feminist cause.  The show is really all about the malleability and manipulability of human pride, and how easily humanity will allow itself to be commodified.  Our heroine, along with everyone else around her, is victimized by the system they perpetrate, and even when they know it they allow themselves to continue.  It could seem fatalistic, but it doesn’t quite, as if there’s a tiny sliver of self-discovery in each terrible decision, and a tiny bit of hope that the next decision will be a little better, or at least a little better-informed.  Ultimately, the show won’t continue to be interesting unless it moves the needle on the characters’ arcs of self-discovery, and in the first four episodes that needle moves very slowly.  I’d hate to see the show turn into a simple celebration of our heroine’s manipulative competence.  But I have some confidence it won’t.

On an interesting side note, I’m intrigued by the fact that the two Lifetime shows I’ve reviewed here, this one and The Lottery, feature women being manipulated into competing against each other for a questionable benefit.  I think there’s a deeper point to be made here—perhaps about how the “ideal” for women is illusory, and how society still manages to pit us against each other in search of it.  Maybe there’s a lesson in there about looking out for each other, even if the shows aren’t explicitly trying to make it.

Verdict:  This is exactly the sort of ironic, self-aware view of the Bachelor that I’ve always had in my mind when I’ve watched the original.  An entertaining complement to Burning Love, which skewers the genre through satire.  I’ll keep watching, at least for now.

In the Queue:  Proof, Dark Matter, Astronaut Wives Club, Complications, Killjoys, Mr Robot.

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