I was all ready to publish a post
about TV conceptions of terrorism. It
was all written and everything, entitled “The Terrorist is Coming from Inside
the House,” focusing on how TV perpetuates a vision of terrorism as an outsider
problem even when it’s perpetrated by insiders.
Early TV about terrorism defined it as something international, done by
outsiders who pierced or infiltrated our national idyll. Recent shows have moved the terror threat
inside, portraying domestic and home-grown terrorist, but even these insider TV
terrorists are still outsiders—racial, ethnic, or religious others who have
been radicalized from afar by foreign interests. This perpetuates a vision of immigrants and
minorities as ticking time bombs, and in the rare circumstance where a white
person becomes a terrorist, it’s a dramatic twist engineered to surprise, a
shock that only goes to show how seductive these radical others can be. It breeds fear of the other, while widening
the racialized and false distinction between “terrorism” and, for example, “mass
shootings.”
And that was a fine post, as far as
it went. But then I got into writing
about the actual shows, and I noticed they all had something else in
common: a deeply cynical conception of
pessimism as strength. In each, there is
a leading man in a position of political or practical power who is told, implicitly
or explicitly, that his chief problem is that he sees the good in people. Trust is weakness, these shows say. There’s an implication, never stated, that
trust is feminized and unleaderly. They prefer
suspicion, aggression, and “shoot first” diplomacy.
That vision bugs me personally
because it’s so different from mine. I am the kind of person who looks
for the good in people—even people for whom the good isn’t always the first or
most obvious thing one sees. In general,
that’s served me well in life.
Occasionally it means I get surprised or disappointed, but more often I’d
like to think that those surprises and disappointments would come either way,
and my way involves less routine suffering and maybe even better ways of coping
with conflict.
But my personal preference aside, there's a much bigger problem here, when a show condemn seeing the good in people while it also links terrorism and otherness.
It’s that suspicion-based combination that makes people advocate for preemptive bombings and racist
immigration policies. If that's all you see on television, it's no wonder people accept these ideas as sensible rather than alarmist.
I'm not saying that the attitude ruins these
shows. (I liked Shooter, at least.) But when they work, it’s despite the
attitude, not because of it.
Designated
Survivor (ABC, Fall 2016. Drama.)
Watched: First several episodes
Premise: After a bomb hits the State
of the Union Address, the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development becomes
president and the FBI investigates what happened.
Promise: This show has a lot of fascinating
things going on: Political machinations among
those newly risen to power. Mystery
elements as to who was behind the bomb, and why. Philosophical explorations about how power
influences decision-making. I enjoyed
the potential of each, and I loved Kal Penn as an insightful
speechwriter-turned-adviser. But I was hoping the show would be more redeeming
than it was—or, put differently, I was disappointed when the lead character’s
power began to overcome his well-meaning, and the show didn’t punish him for
what I saw as objectively bad decisions.
Still, I probably would have kept watching for longer if our own
election hadn’t hit, leaving me hungry for TV that took a more aspirational or critical
view of politics.
Verdict: I couldn’t bring myself to watch it after the
election.
Shooter
(USA, Fall 2016. Long-form thriller/Drama.)
Watched: Season
Premise: Exceptionally skilled
sniper is framed for an assassination and goes on the run to unravel the plot
and vindicate himself
Promise: This was a good, twisty,
conspiracy chase, full of competence and shifting alliances. I particularly loved the show’s central
female characters—the main investigator pursuing the sniper, and the sniper’s
wife, respectively. They were persistent,
resourceful, and realistic, feminine without being feminized. I’m not sure whether the show passed the Bechdel
test, but even so, it never felt marginalizing.
I was also fascinated by the show’s attitude toward guns—respect for
their power, for both good and ill, and respect for those who wield them with
skill. I expected myself to find the
show’s firearm-centricity off-putting, but although the show was definitely brutal,
it never felt celebratory. The show wasn’t
perfect—it was a bit scattered and didn’t connect its many conspiracy threads
as well as I’d have liked—but I didn’t find that fatal.
Verdict: pretty good twisty conspiracy stuff.
24:
Legacy (Fox, new. Action/Adventure.)
Watched: first two episodes
Premise: A revival of the 2001-2010 series, set after
the events of the first series
Promise: 24 was groundbreaking when it aired—not only by
premiering the ticking real-time format, but also by tackling premise of the
kind of terrorism that struck the Twin Towers in 2001. Since 2001, scores of shows have adopted 24’s
version of terrorism along with the premise it developed over several seasons, that
violence and torture are effective in fighting it. In the intervening time, threats to the
American way of life have morphed. 24’s
brand of terrorism is a classic for a reason, but now nether the format nor the
terror threats seem as revelatory as they did back then. I like that the new star is African-American,
but I’m turned off that his family are stereotypical drug-trade gangsters. Do we need yet more racialized stereotyping othering,
atop the racialized stereotyping of terrorists?
Verdict: I tuned out.
Prison
Break (Fox, new. Long-form
thriller/Drama.)
Watched: First episode
Premise: A revival of the 2005-2009 series, set after
the events of the first series.
Promise: I suspect this series is a real boon for fans
of the original series, but as someone who hadn’t watched much of the original,
I found it confusing to be thrown into a world of characters we were expected
to know. This is one of those “everyone
has secrets and may not be who they say they are” setups. This show flips the first season on its head—now,
older brother must rescue younger from prison, rather than vice versa—and it’s
layered with what I’m sure will be a very twisty plot about middle-eastern terrorism. I’m sure it’ll bring a lot of drama, but the
first episode felt laden with stereotypes and didn’t make me care about the
people.
Verdict: If I had already cared, I would probably be
in for this. But it didn’t work for me
as an outsider.
In
the Hopper: A whole bunch of
shows! Maybe I’ll tackle the music shows
next? Or the shows about women in power?
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