Fall media thoughts

I’ve been watching some new, or, new-to-me television shows this fall. There were a lot of things that looked promising, and others that didn’t but I tried them anyway, with mixed results.

Undercovers. I saw the ad for this show and immediately started rooting for it. Here was a show with African-American leads playing spies! A cast with lots of people of color! Being spies! And running a catering business! It looked sexy and awesome. But I’ve watched two episodes, and I don’t like it.

I wish I liked it. And, in an attempt to be a self-aware ally, I am trying to figure out why I don’t like it, and if there’s hidden racism in my response. I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. Here’s why I think I don’t like the show: the characters are incredibly sane and emotionally balanced. I like my spies to be darker, a little more unhinged. I like Alias, and Fringe, where everyone is damaged and functional. Steve and Samantha, on Undercovers, are positively WHOLESOME. Which, you know, is a good thing. A positive. I approve of this, and I sincerely hope that other people are watching the show. I want the networks to understand that a show with African-American leads can succeed. But I find this boring.

Covert Affairs. This is the other spy show I tried to watch, but stopped because everyone is well-adjusted. I love Piper Perabo, I find her insanely attractive, but her character was so NORMAL. Where is the grief and the angst and the secrets, I ask you? I did really like the supporting cast in this, though I felt that the various romantic pairings in the show universally had no chemistry whatsoever. The dialog was snappy, the plots sorta dumb fun. But I was kinda hoping for, say, The Inside, or something like that.

Terriers. I find it interesting that I like this show, when there are no real female characters to speak of so far. But I like the damaged nature of the leads, and I really like their friendship. I really like shows about damaged people who are finding a way to go on, or about self-sabotaging people who are self-aware enough to recognize what they are doing. Terriers seems to have both of these types in spades. Also, I love shows about private investigators. I realized, watching the third episode, that if either of the leads was a woman this would be my favorite show of the fall season. Though I do want to constantly tell the lead characters to take a shower. Or a bath. Or wash their hair.

Hellcats. I discussed Hellcats already, but let me reiterate how adroitly the show deals with class, religion, and working-class poverty. The show also passes the Bechdel Test regularly, and features a cast that is half people of color.

Vampire Diaries. I don’t really like the leads on this show. I find Stefan BORING as all get out. I feel that I would enjoy being friends with Elena, and that I would like spending time with her — but she is too well-adjusted and emotionally healthy for me to find her interesting as a character. I like Damon quite a bit. However, my favorite thing about Vampire Diaries is Everyone Else. I love the town, its response to vampires, I love Elena’s friends, I love how everyone copes with the things that happen in the plot. I’m really into the show despite Twittering or checking my Google Reader whenever Stefan is alone with Elena.

Glee. This is another show where I take my turns on Echo Bazaar or answer email when the leads are on the screen. I love about 60% of the show — I love the musical numbers madly, I love Kurt, Sue Sylvester, Brittney, and the supporting cast kids. The leads? Not so much. But I *do* love the musical numbers, so I find that I keep coming back to watch the next episode. Or, at least, 60% of it.

Dollhouse

I haven’t said anything yet about Joss Whedon’s new show, Dollhouse. I’ve read a lot of controversy about it at this point. I’ve read — in a couple places on LiveJournal, particularly — that the show not only depicts rape, not only endorses rape, but by having attractive women on the screen the show forces the audience to enjoy the rape, raping the audience into raping the character and, by extension, raping all women ever.

To which I reply: bullshit.

I have a few problems with this so-called analysis of the show. I’m not even certain where to start.

1. This view diminishes and belittles actual sexual violence by equating it to watching a television show.

2. By prohibiting depiction and discussion of the issues associated with sexuality and violence, proponents of this view take away people’s power to educate themselves, to form and hold informed views, to learn from others, to speak freely and openly of their experiences and fears.

3. Asserting that everyone who likes the show supports the ethics of the villainous organization holding Echo accuses the entire fanbase of supporting human trafficking.

4. Asserting that a television show has the power to force people to watch it, and can force people to enjoy ethically questionable things, asserts by implication that those who watch it are morons incapable of operating the “power off” switch.

5. While you, personally, may not be able to distinguish between finding a concept interesting and supporting a concept, the rest of us do not have trouble telling the two apart. To quote my friend Heidi, “Other news tidbits for you: No one is impressed by Rod Blagojevich, even though he gets media coverage. Pictures of rioting and looting are not an instruction guide. Shows about home makeover are actually fantasy.”

The fictional television series called Dollhouse depicts a fictional organization that turns people — who are coerced into consenting, as far as we know — into blank dolls. Dolls who are given customized personalities and then rented out to people for whatever the client wants. YES. THIS IS HORRIFYING. That is the entire point of the show. The point of the show is that this is wrong, and yet the people in this system gain power despite great obstacles.

This show should make you uncomfortable. It damn well better. Watching Echo lose all her volition when her personality is wiped is awful. It’s an erasure of self that negates not only her past, but any possible future growth. Echo not only never existed, but if her owners have their way, she never will.

But Dollhouse is about asserting one’s humanity despite all odds against you. It is about being greater than the sum of abuses against you. It is about seeing humanity in others when every effort has been made to make that other person into an object. It is about the essential, unstoppable, indefatigable power of women and men to grow past their trauma and into world-changing power.

Watching this show, liking this show, doesn’t mean you support human trafficking and rape. That’s a ridiculous thing to assert. Watching this show means you are, like almost everyone, fascinated by the power of people, however damaged, to persevere. To triumph. To prove that they, that we by extension, are more than what others mean us to be. That they, that we, are nobody’s damn doll.

Go see for yourself. Go watch Dollhouse for yourself, on Hulu. Don’t take my word for it. Make up your own mind.

Battlestar Galactica, aka Gender Equality in Space

I finished watching Battlestar Galactica 4.0 a couple days ago. (I’m not watching the current broadcast, I really only see it on dvd.) And I have to say — this is my feminism. This is my humanism.

The world of BSG seems to be more-or-less evenly populated by men and women. In crowd scenes we have a mix, unless there’s a narrative reason to the contrary. The jobs in the show are performed by men and women both — dangerous, military, political, menial, privileged. Men and women seem to share childcare, except when the show specifically states that there is a religious or cultural influence towards one sex or another.

Men and women of all ages are shown on the screen. There is even a diversity of ages in the lead cast and recurring guests. Women and men both are allowed to be old on the show, despite the show’s easy-out — being set largely on a warship, the show’s producers could make the excuse that the cast is young because military persons are young. But that’s not what happened.

Male and female characters on BSG get to be sexy. They get to be neurotic. They get to be confident, arrogant, hubristic and wrong. Characters on BSG make absolutely stupid decisions for reasons good, bad, impulsive, planned, rational and spiritual. The men are not all rational and the women all emotional. The women are not all scheming and the men all dupes. The men are not all stoic and the women hysterical.

In fact, for every trait which is often associated with a gender stereotype, I can think of a character on BSG that supports that type and one that counters it.

Since I was nineteen I have argued that actual sexual equality in media representation would mean that women were treated as normal — not special, not weird, not privileged, not vilified. That there be enough male and female characters for events happening to women not be Specially Significant because they happen to The Girl.

Women in BSG die. They also rule, they command, they triumph, they fuck everything up, they believe, they fall from grace, they give life, and they kill. Good. Good for them, and good for the show for doing that. This really is my kind of feminism.

Inaugural Address, January 20th, 2009

Text of President Barack Obama’s inaugural address on Tuesday, as prepared for delivery and released by the Presidential Inaugural Committee.

OBAMA: My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America’s decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology’s wonders to raise health care’s quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public’s dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our founding fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience’s sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort — even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society’s ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world’s resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a generation — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter’s courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent’s willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America’s birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

“Let it be told to the future world … that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive…that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it).”

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Particularity of plot.

There’s a concept in script-writing I’ve heard in television circles. Jane Espenson has touched on it in her blog, as has Alex Epstein. I’m sure it’s been described by others as well. That concept is to write to the show’s premise. In my head I started calling it the particularity of plot.

The gist of the rule or guideline is that a show’s strongest stories are ones that can be told only by that show, with that premise. The X-Files did stories about the possibility of alien invasion. 30 Rock does stories about running a sketch comedy show. House does episodes about wacky diseases.

All television shows, of course, include plots and plot elements that are universal — relationships, children, death, fear of death, fear of helplessness. It is how these things are handled that make them unique to a show or not. For instance, the canceled tv show Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip had a plot dealing with the fact of military hostages in the Middle East. This is a story that could be handled by many shows set in the contemporary United States. But Studio 60 viewed this through the lens of celebrity and the entertainment industry, which is something other shows could not do.

It is often the case that a show’s early episodes or seasons focus more on plots particular to that premise. Later on, as viewers care more about the characters and their histories, plots dealing with more generic interpersonal interactions are layered in. So we get divorce plots, and pregnancy plots, and drug-use plots in space, in business, in government, in retail, in the coffee shop and bookstore, on the land and in the sea. These plots can be done well. They can also be done incredibly poorly.

I prefer, overall, plots having to do with the premise over plots of a more generic nature.

I was thinking about this while watching the first two episodes of Mad Men. The show is about the lives of ad executives in New York in the early 1960s. In the first two episodes we have two types of stories: stories about advertising campaigns, and stories about the relationships between men and women. In the context of the show, these are brilliant choices.

The advertising plots are particular to the show in away that is obvious — the show is about advertising executives, therefore showing them at work is a plot only this show can do. But the placement of the show in the 1960s spins that in ways that are obviously clever and subtly interesting. The obvious cleverness is in stories such as making a new ad campaign for Lucky Strikes. The subtle interest is in the men talking about women while they design campaigns for household products.

The relationship stories told by the show are incredibly basic. But because of the show’s era — the 1960s — it is practically science fiction. The gender roles and assumptions are wildly different from anything I experience in my life. The environment for women in this show is, I am reminded, exactly the work life my divorced grandmother had as a secretary at the Aurora Pump. (Where she met my step-grandfather who was a foreman on the production floor. I have pictures of my grandmother from that time — hair and make-up perfect, little hats and gloves — and I can tell you, my grandmother was closer to Joan Holloway than she was to anyone else.)

Mad Men takes the stories of dating and courtship and transforms them. It takes all the trite and tired stories of modern television drama — pregnancy, illness, drinking, adultery — and transforms them into something alien, strange, and wonderful.

The show may not be for everyone. It is slow-paced. The lead male character is, at two episodes, opaque to the audience. I don’t know if this will bother me later on. But I bought the first season today. Mad Men is getting some of my valuable television-watching time. It made a strong, positive impression on me.

First thoughts on “True Blood.”

There was something to be said in favor of the first-person point of view in Charlaine Harris’s Southern Vampire series. The supernatural romance-mysteries are all told through the eyes and experiences of Sookie Stackhouse. She knows a lot about her community — being a “freak,” a telepath with little control over her ability, she knows more about her fellow Bon Temps residents than she wants. But for all her knowledge, Sookie does not witness every event of importance in her small Louisiana town. She does not see the vampires having sex with their voluntary snacks. She does not see her brother as he sleep his way through the women of Bon Temps. She does not see the parties and the drugs and the secrets behind closed doors.

In the books, we as readers learn of these things as Sookie does — we hear events as they are told to her, often by biased witnesses or participants who have an agenda to protect. We may find out other facts as Sookie reads the other person’s mind, but we’re still not there. We don’t see.

In the television series “True Blood,” HBO has chosen to abandon that first person point of view in favor of a more conventional shared perspective. We see selected events as they occur from the point of one of a handful of narrative characters. In the first three episodes we share events primarily with Sookie, her brother Jason, and Sookie’s best friend Tara. We also get some scenes from the perspective of Bill Compton (The Vampire,) Sam, and Lafayette, as well as a handful of short scenes witnessed by others.

Yet we still don’t see the key scenes — the ones that would reveal the murderer, or clear up Sookie and Bill’s emotional misunderstandings. As the audience we are privileged more than any single character, yet not enough to understand events. It leaves me with a clear feeling of being messed with for the sake of jerking me around, and I don’t appreciate it. At least Sookie’s limited first-person point of view gave an excuse for withholding information from the reader.

That said . . . That’s not a deal-breaker for me. So far. I am enjoying seeing the Southern Vampire world on the screen. I find the characters real, and realistic. Jason Stackhouse is a dumb, self-centered ass. Bill is alien. The supporting characters are all focused on their own lives in ways that make them and Bon Temps seem real. I find the SFX to be not overwhelmingly intrusive. The vampire teeth are reasonable, the super-strength and super-speed are not overused so far. And, of course, I just enjoy Sookie.

In the books, I like Sookie a lot. (Though after the first three books I think the overall quality of writing drops off.) I like Sookie’s defensiveness, her practicality. I like how the current of her life is that she knows she’s a freak, and everything else is part of her coping with that. The tv show is making it very clear that Sookie is enchanted by Bill because he offers relief — a chance to have some privacy in her intimacy, to be alone in another person’s arms.

What sort of person craves that as their life goal? I love the representation of that in the books, and I love how clearly Anna Paquin portrays Sookie’s emotions and desires in the show. I think Paquin’s greatest strength as an actor is the mobile expressiveness of her face. One moment she is revealing everything, another her face is a stone mask, and in the next second she’s blatantly lying to the other character in the scene.

I will keep watching “True Blood,” I think, despite the show’s contrived system of withholding and revealing information. I like the Southern Vampire world, Sookie Stackhouse, and Anna Paquin enough to keep tuning in.

Alex Epstein explains it to me.

Thank you, Alex Epstein. Now I know why I won’t waste my time watching Fringe.

For those of you who don’t know, Alex Epstein is a writer. Not only does he write screenplays for both television and the big screen, he writes about writing. His books — Crafty Screenwriting and Crafty TV Writing — are absolutely invaluable to any aspiring writer. Epstein’s website, Complications Ensue, is one of my favorite stops on the internet.

When I watched the pilot episode of Fringe I began twittering in outrage about three minutes into the show. I didn’t object to the mysterious affliction suffered by the passengers on the plane. That was part of the premise — I was watching a show about fringe science, about inexplicable phenomena. I could handle an ailment that obeyed no laws of reason. But the moment the co-pilot of the international airliner opened the flight deck door, I balked.

He wouldn’t do that.

“He wouldn’t do that!” I IM’d my friends in outrage. “The flight crew wouldn’t open the door! Under any circumstances!” One of my friends sent me a message in reply — “That’s the least problem with the show.”

I laughed, and moved on. And, yes, there was a great deal of hokum in the plot. But, again, what I objected to was not the sharing of brain waves, but that Agent Dunham is not being required to justify her expenses to a budgetary oversight committee. I could handle the horrible affliction suffered by the Agent, but I was troubled by the ease with which John Noble’s character was released.

Alex Epstein just said it, and said it very well. “You can break the laws of physics. But don’t break the laws of character or story.” Yes. Exactly that. The hooker would not follow the weird guy to the abandoned warehouse. The money for this team would just not be there. Agent Dunham would be drowning in paperwork at this point.

I like John Noble in this. His scenery-chewing is grand fun. Lance Reddick brings gravitas to everything he does. Joshua Jackson is surprisingly nuanced, and his character has more depth than the script provides as a result of Jackson’s good acting. That’s the most praise I can offer the show. Thank you, Mr. Epstein, for helping me figure it out. But unless the writers remember how to tell a story, not merely storyboard a cool idea, I won’t be watching further.

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