Lena Dunham — whose show occupies a grey zone in my heart — woke up from the wrong side of the bed and decided that it was funny to put a scarf on her head and make a “fundamentalist” joke.
Feministing wrote an interesting piece responding to the Dunham controversy, asking whether it matters that Dunham is a “casual racist,” whether we’re hard on her because she’s a woman, and whether the media is focusing too much on Dunham’s personal behaviour too much.
To which, I say: of course, it matters. First of all, I find the classification of “casual racism” a bit problematic — especially from a site like Feministing. Are we now differentiating racism by their degrees and saying “some” racism is okay? When? Who gets to decide that?
I’m not afraid to say I expect something more from Dunham than say, Charlie Sheen or the creators of Two and a Half Men. Why? Because the same media, which rips Dunham apart, keeps on touting her as a representative of my generation and an inspiration for young women. She’s the voice of my generation that’ll carry comedy forward, they say, and make relatable comedy for “women.” Okay, that’s great. If that is the case then, I’d like her to remain at least somewhat sensitive to the issues that affect all kinds of women.
I love television shows. I’m also keen on seeing more Asian representations on television. So when K-Town (aka Jersey Shore for Asians) finally made its online debut after casting changes and delays, I had to watch it, of course.
The result?
Ehhhh.
Lots of drinking, hair-pulling, drinks being thrown, etc. What else did I expect?
Despite my reservations, I dutifully introduced this show to another Asian Canadian friend, and we ended up having a K-Town marathon on her big-screen TV. After binging on the drama, we inevitably asked ourselves the question that many people have asked about this show: Is this show good for Asian Americans?
Ehhhh.
I mostly find the men’s portrayal on the show more interesting than the women’s, mainly because we don’t see many Asians in “jock” or “partier” (or I might even say “ditz” if I’m feeling mean) roles. It’s also kind of refreshing to see a host of Asian Americans existing as an entire world, rather than as tokens in a white-washed one of mainstream television. It has the Asians: they’re just like us! effect. Even if that “just like us” message is geared towards…shirtlessness and belligerence. (note: the pictures from the Disgrasian link feature some of the old cast members, who are no longer on the current version of the show)
Then again, K-Town’s failed distribution deal with MTV is perhaps telling of the racial landscape of television — whereas Italian Americans were seen as capable of capturing a wider audience, Asian Americans are not there yet.
But race might not be the only factor that hindered its success. In my opinion, there is a general absence of heightened drama in K-Town that prevent it from being a true guilty pleasure. From what I can tell, the show (as it is now, after some casting changes) seems to consist mostly of friends who knew each other before, besides a couple of additions. This gives the viewer a sense of intruding upon something that was already established, rather than growing with new relationships. MTV shows got this down pat, with The Real World as well as Jersey Shore – where a bunch of strangers came to live in one place for a designated purpose of drama for the camera. This helped the viewer to feel like s/he was a part of this relationship.
Also, house footages on Jersey Shore helped to add that dimension of intimacy — something K-Town also lacks. So really, watching K-Town is like watching loud and obnoxious people at a club, something I try to avoid in real life. I’ve seen obnoxious crowds before, so there’s nothing new there. But Jersey Shore gave me something more exclusive, behind-the-scenes workings of an obnoxious crowd (which I don’t get to see). This didn’t necessarily help me understand or empathize with them any more, but there have been the occasional moments of tenderness or friendship that have surprised me. I can’t say the same for K-Town, really.
So will I keep watching? Three episodes later, I remain unconvinced — but it is vacation time for me after all, so who knows?
(If you’re interested in learning more about the show, Schema has weekly updates as well as Twitter chats when new episodes air every Wednesday.)
So, I bought into the hype and started watching Girls. Do I like the show? Yes I do. But do I like the characters on that show? I don’t know about that. I’ve also been reading the critiques of the show with some interest. Like many things, the show has created a lot of oppositional politics – some have declared Lena Dunham’s creation as a feminist show, while for others it’s just “pandering, privileged dross“, and others it’s yet another show that is too white.
It seems that in the internet age, we should always have an opinion about something, and that opinion should be black and white. Maybe it’s because a headline like “Is Girls feminist?” “Is Girls a privileged piece of trash?” would inevitably get more page hits than a title like “I don’t know how I feel: can Girls can be many things at once?” And I get it, I get that websites and the writers that write for them must make money somehow, and that money comes from advertisers that pay money depending on page views. Since I have neither the need to generate page views nor see this as a “business”, I might as well say some conflicting opinions.
My first reaction to watching the first two episodes: I couldn’t help but hate all the characters for being so selfish, being so self-conscious, and also blind to their privileged status (such as: getting mad when Hannah’s parents told her that they were finally cutting her off, financially). I also acknowledge that hate came about because it hit a bit close to home – being overeducated, yet still having not much earning potential, etc. But I like the show; the conversation seems real, a lot of things happen, and people seem to be going through shitty times and yet funny things still happen. This is a lot like real life, for people like me and others in my social circle.
One commenter on this post (where produceer Teddy Zee questions the all-white cast of the show) said that Zee should be focusing his attention to class, rather than race. However, those things cannot be so neatly separated in our reality – to question whether something is classist must also invite the class-race correspondence in America.
To those that say the show is not “about” race: I get it. It’s tiring to talk about this all the time. But, I will just say this: maybe not everything is “about” something [insert women, race, class, whatever you'd like]. Sometimes, you know, it’s really hard to not notice the lack of an identity category that you belong to in these cultural products that are being proposed as the “voice of my generation”. If Girls, or any other show, is not “about” race but is about “society” or my “generation”, then I think it’s okay for me (and others) to bring up the fact that I cannot locate my identity categories reflected in these representations, without being faulted for being “too sensitive”.
Maybe we just get so excited when something deviates so slightly from the white, male, heteronormative and middle-class perspective that we tend to brush it with broad strokes of “PROGRESS!!!!!!” when in fact, it is progress with a caveat, or just a slight deviation.
Do I fault Lena Dunham personally for not including characters of colour? No. But is it valid to ask questions about why these types of shows that make the white, (upper-) middle-class, heteronormative stories keep getting told and picked in the media over others? I think so. Will I keep watching Girls? Most likely yes.
Korean media has been ripe with controversy in the past little while, with its first ever one-episode drama special dealing with lesbian identities, called “Club Daughters of Bilitus.” This is the first show to feature lesbian identities, though there has been a drama series featuring gay men the first drama series that featured gay men. Aside from dealing with lesbian sexuality, the show also dealt with other taboo issues like premarital sex, abortion, and mental illness – all in one episode! The show’s title came from an American lesbian rights associationin the 50s.
The fact that this aired in a public channel – not cable – is pretty remarkable, (The L Word itself was a cable channel show). As you could imagine, backlash was pretty fierce and immediate, and the network was ordered to stop the scheduled re-run of the episode. Many viewers expressed discomfort and unfounded fear that teenagers watching the show would be influenced to become gay. Another concern was raised over the fact that the show dealt with lesbian identities, which are less public and discussed than the slowly-introduced male homosexuality. (source) Many parents’ associations campaigned hard to prevent the one-episode show from re-airing.
I was going to space this out and do two posts about the rest of season 1, except I couldn’t control my Wire consumption and stayed up way too late watching episode after episode in a row. Typical. On to the observations – I even took notes this time so I’m not just pulling random thoughts out of my hazy impressions. Oh, the things I do for you, internet. And need I say, spoilers ahead?
There will always be a special place in my TV heart for The Wire, it being one of the texts I focused for my MA research paper and all. But back then, I paid most of my attention to seasons 4 and 5, since the character I wrote about appeared later in the series. So while visiting my parents’ house in Vancouver, I’ve decided to re-watch the series from the very beginning because I like feeling depressed about the system and the state of this world, apparently. I thought I’d record some of my thoughts and impressions as I visit the series again, in no particular order. Needless to say, this will be replete with spoilers. Okay? Okay!
Alex and I met at McGill while we were both doing our Master’s in English. We were united by our interest in queer theory, our love of terrible movies and TV shows, and our decision to stay in Montreal post-grad school. I’m excited to announce that we’ve started a new series called “He said | She said” for The Gaily, where we discuss the gems and the pits of pop culture. The first topic: RuPaul’s Drag U, a makeover show that features (cis)women in a rut, getting helpful tips on how to be fabulous again from a troupe of “professors” from “Drag U.” Won’t you join us?
This month’s Feminist Fashion Bloggers theme was women in the media and pop culture. Seeing that I love both television and feminism, I thought I’d write about a little show I only discovered recently and perhaps too late, because it is one of those amazing but short-lived one-season wonders that ended up in the network chopping block.
Huge is a show about American teenagers (and adult staff members) who are at a fat camp to lose weight over the summer. Its protagonist is Will (Nikki Blonsky), who crafts, listens to alt music, and has blue streaks in her hair – she’s been sent to the camp against her will and vows to not lose any weight. There’s also Amber (Hayley Hasselhoff – yes, that Hasselhoff), who is not as economically privileged as others at the camp (she paid to be at the camp herself). Other interesting members of cast include Dr. Rand, the camp director who is going through a 12-step program at Overeaters Anonymous and is still dealing with body image issues after losing weight.
Why is Huge so good? First, there’s the subtle and complex treatment of all characters involved that refuses to vilify anyone outright – though some people’s actions are certainly questionable and at times painfully mean. There’s the realistic portrayal of psychological and interpersonal battles with body image issues, and the acknowledgement that those battles never really leave us, even when one attains what’s considered a “normal” body size (unlike what some weight loss show might have you believe). The show also treats the bewildering experience of teenage years – made even more painful by weight in this case – with an empathetic tone, and not a patronizing one.
Like all things, Huge has its mishaps – like its problematic “Spirit Quest” episode that appropriates native culture. Personally I would’ve liked to have seen more racial diversity as well. But overall, for providing a compelling narrative of fat camp instead of a condescending one, and for representing stories of coming-of-age girlhood narratives that are heartbreaking and honest, I think Huge left a great (albeit short-lived) feminist mark on American television.
Here’s a little teaser for you (at 2:25, you can also see an awesome show-within-a-show, which is a great satire of both The Bachelor and America’s Next Top Model):
A couple nights ago, I went to see True Grit. I’m a pretty big fan of anything that the Coen brothers do cinematically; I also have a creepy old man-crush on Jeff Bridges (well, more like “can we go get a beer and talk?” kind of way), and this film had both of them in it. And the film sure didn’t disappoint – though I think it ended a little too abruptly and perhaps a touch too neatly.
Since the film’s set in the deep south in the late ’20s (or the novel is, at least, according to Wikipedia – I can’t recall if the film makes the time period clear), it does make some references to racial injustices going on at the time. But the film also makes clear that racial injustice is not its focus by treating such instances very casually and abruptly. The first reference to racial injustice happens at a hanging of three men Mattie (the main character) witnesses at the beginning of the film; while the first two white men are given a chance to leave any last word and thought, the third man, who is an American Indian, is not given that privilege. There’s also the presence of black people serving the whites, but only short glimpses without much commentary. Then when Mattie is in “Indian territory” (but curiously, there aren’t many American Indians), Cogburn (played by Jeff Bridges) casually beats up a child, who I believe is native American.
Throughout the problematic scenes, my internal dialogue sounded something like this:
SELF: Wow, that is racist!
SELF 2: I know, but what do you expect? It’s the ’20s.
SELF: That’s true. But how am I supposed to feel watching that? Glad that I don’t live in that time? Relieved that we’ve “made progress”? But we still have so far to go and this movie is making me feel like I should be thankful to live in this society and now I should just shut up about it.
SELF 2: Well, now the scene is over and you haven’t been paying attention. Happy?
If you think I’m no fun, you should try watching a movie with me in person. (now you’re never going to come to a movie with me, are you?)
Anyway, this is why I feel conflicted about watching period dramas. True Grit didn’t give me too much of a hard time, but I feel the conflict most strongly when I’m watching a show like Mad Men. Is it a progressive show? Is it a feminist show? (occasionally, my brain produces other interjections like: hey, that dress looks nice!) I often wonder, if the rich aesthetic of the show is meant to seduce us to the “simpler” times of the ’60s where sexual harassment happened without repercussion, and black people didn’t really exist (or are disposable – I guess on TV, black people still don’t exist, or exist in a very ghettoized way). Or how the show makes us feel so smug about living in the “better times,” thus maintaining the status quo and disengaging us from the present state of inequality. But then, some like Stephanie Coontz could argue that Mad Men is very feminist, because it’s willing to show the “historically accurate” version of the reality in the ’60s.
I guess I see Coontz’s point. But what I’d like to ask is this: it’s all good to see a historically accurate version of reality from a white, middle-class, heteronormative point of view, but when will we start seeing a “historically accurate” version of reality from a slave’s point of view? From a person of colour’s point of view in the ’60s? Even when a show or a film deals with race issues, it’s often about the white person’s epiphany of the existence of racism. When can I start seeing that epiphany in a person of colour?
This is from Song Dong’s installation, “Waste Not” – temporarily housed at the Vancouver Art Gallery until January 16. It’s an exhibition of absolutely every single object from his home. “Waste Not” was a mantra of his mother that got the family through tough times. This is only one wing of stuff; there is about at least four times more of stuff on display than this picture. I was amazed and overwhelmed by the complex ritual of such a simple mantra – such as washing your laundry a few different times because your soap wasn’t a laundry soap, so you had to make sure it was thoroughly washed.
Also, my North American brain couldn’t help but think if this woman were in the United States, she’d totally be on Hoarders, no question. Speaking of which, the teaser for the Hoarders season finale has a man admitting: “I readily admit that I really have too many rats.” You’re welcome, I know you really wanted to know that.
RT @Mixed_Me_CA: I don't know about y'all, but this is how I'm feeling these days, time for some PoC/IP care... "The Modern Sisyphus" http:… 2 days ago
