courses@JLR

With the rise of new technologies and a social-networked society, television fandom is increasingly based in new media. While print-based media still exists, and fans still meet in groups, fans are increasingly taking their activities to the Internet, where a wealth of possibility lies waiting. The Internet allows fans to create and share fan fiction, fan vids, fan art, and more. Fans can create organized communities online, which can overlap and interact in a number of ways. TV fans can be of any gender representation, but have typically been stereotyped as overly obsessive females or emasculated sci-fi nerds (ie. the “trekkie). I find that these stereotypes speak to the compelling interplay between gender and fandom, specifically TV fan culture. With converging media and new technology, I wonder.. how will those stereotypes change or perpetuate?

In an attempt to understand a fan culture and put this week’s readings into context, I looked into a fan community that not only plays with gender norms, but also age-related norms. This is the fan group that exists around a children’s cartoon television show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Within the community of fans, a community of “bronies” has emerged recently.  According to the show’s Wikipedia page, “Older fans of the show have adopted the title "brony," a portmanteau of the words "bro" and "pony". Though generally taken to refer to male fans, the term is often applied to any fan outside the target demographic, regardless of gender.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bronies#Fandom)

An article on Wired.com asks why older people, and older males at that, are so drawn to this cartoon show that is targeted toward young girls. “Some fans say the show’s appeal lies in good illustration, excellent characters or, as Allen [a brony] put it, a ‘perfect storm of ’80s nostalgia and cultural irony.’” Or, as it goes on to say, it could simply be attributed to the genius of the show’s creator, Lauren Faust. (article can be found here:http://www.wired.com/underwire/2011/06/bronies-my-little-ponys/)

Regardless, what’s interesting here is that a whole community of men, from teens to young adults, has inexplicably formed around a television show for little girls about friendly rainbow-colored ponies. These “bronies” share fan art, make fan vids (including mashups with movie trailers), and collect pony action figures. It seems as though the brony community has upset gender socialization norms, but I wonder if it challenges stereotypes about fandom. While the bronies might defy the idea that pink ponies are only for girls, do they defy the stereotype that fans are crazed women and emasculated men? And what does it mean that the brony culture originated on 4chan, an imageboard website largely populated by “nerdy,” tech-savvy guys? Is the brony culture simply the trekkie reincarnated? And what does it mean that a fan community of older males has formed around a television show for young girls?

I don’t mean to suggest that television fans must be "crazed" women or "emasculated" men. Instead, I would like to get past these simplistic characterizations and ask how the current status of converging media and new technology constructs the community of fans. Fan communities are centered in online interactions. They rely on user-generated content, social networks, and the digitization of material from their beloved TV show. It is a culture that relies completely on it's participants and their knowledge of media and technology. Without such fan participation, the community would die.

In her essay “A Fannish Field of Value: Online Fan Gift Culture,” Karen Hellekson talks about fandom’s economic structure of a gift economy. In a fan community, members give, receive, and reciprocate. (114) Fans exchange stories, art, videos, etc., at no monetary price to any party. She refers to Marcel Mauss’s well-known discussion of gift economies to suggest that fandom’s gift culture is a “symbolic field” that “privileges the female-gendered task of maintaining social ties.” (116) In other words, fan communities are female-gendered because they rely on an exchange of self (time or talent) for the sake of social cohesion, a practice culturally seen as female. In this way, fan communities are “feminine” because they do not seek profit as is common in the male-dominated world of commerce. Rather, fan communities rely completely on fans’ shared desire to foster a space that is endlessly renewed in the exchange of symbolic gifts.

What does this mean for the identity of the TV fan? Does this “gender” certain TV shows and their fan followings? And what does it mean for the fan if their community is based on the exchange of digital media? What skills and knowledge does a fan need to be a part of a fan community? And how does the nature of fandom create stereotypes?

I really enjoyed Joyrich's approach to talking about queer representation on Televison. I found her analysis refreshing and enlightening, in that it went deeper than simply discussing the pros and cons of a "gay presence" in the commercial entertainment industry -- when considering the 90s sitcom Ellen, Joyrich writes, "Rather than focus, then, on only one example-Ellen's manifest story of self-discovery and coming out-it is interesting to consider some of the permutations of television's ways of 'knowing' sexuality..." (450)

Indeed, identifying "queerness" on TV does not have to rely on the explicit presence of an LGBTQ character. There is a knowledge-set unique to what Joyrich calls the "epistomology of the console" that cues us into an understanding of  what we read as  "gay" on TV (441). As Joyrichs reminds us by turning to DA Miller, this allows "homosexuality to be elided even as it is also being elaborated" (441).

In order to try to unpack how we read homosexuality in mainstream TV, Joyrich introduces the idea that "television constructs illicit sexualities ambivalently as both known and unkown" (449). D.A. Miller's observation and the sitcom Ellen serve as reminders that historically, the "presence" of homosexuality on TV relies on preserving the notion that it remains absent in some way. Even when it is explicitly disclosed, it remains obscured or veiled by constructs based on feigning ignorance. Joyrich's example of Ellen's coming out on her show helps reveal how even a pedagogical knowledge of homosexuality on TV does not lend itself to the adoption a truly queer epistemology. Even after the "Coming Out" episode on Ellen...

There was still no coherent queer epistemology (whatever that
might be) ordering the text; though some episodes in the last season did
initiate new trajectories in Ellen's life (and, arguably, in television's treat-
ment of sexuality), these existed in tension with the show's already estab-
lished focus on Ellen's relations with her (probably needless to point out,
insistently heterosexual) community of family and friends. As stated even
by one of Ellen's executive producers, Ellen thus became a homosexual
in a "heterosexual situation"... Still defined by an aura of confusion
(though perhaps one now thematized rather than just acted out), Ellen
marks an absent center within a field of knowledge, indeed marks the
way in which that knowledge is always absent from itself (450)

Was coming out in some way redundant, as Ellen's outsider/de-centered status "acted out" queerness clearly and comfortably enough for TV? It's as if the overt disclosure of Ellen's sexuality ended some sort of game that the writers and producers insisted on playing anyway.
To some extent I can't help but feel that Ellen's status as a "homosexual in a heterosexual situation," becomes what Joyrich calls "both an effect of and obstacle to television's confessional, familial, and consumer regime" (449).

If Joyrich's extension of White's argument holds true -- that U.S. television "not only transmits but transforms our understanding of sexual relations" -- then this heteronormative treatment of Ellen's sexual disclosure must also reflect a cultural desire to keep our queers straight-acting (449). The absence of any significant change in the show's tone after coming out preserves Ellen as a comforting and familiar television construction for the "average" audience -- but it also presupposes that audience's discomfort at seeing at seeing a heterosexual lifestyle on TV radically upended.

Much like Mary Tyler Moore was supposedly racially neutral because its all-white cast adhered to unspoken TV tradition, so too is Ellen sexually neutral in that it never wanted to stop playing the game of denial. Because a show is not about race, it apparently doesn't need to include "other" races. Because a show isn't about sexuality, it doesn't need to profess an understanding of sexual difference. According to Sedgwick, the knowledge of sexuality is itself enough to constitute that sexuality -- our knowledge of the hetero/homo dichotomy acts as a "structuring device," preserving divisions like  "same" and "different." Ironically, mainstream television seems incapable of depicting this sexual difference too explicitly for risk of transgressing that very distinction.

There seems to be some danger in transmitting an "inverted" or "non-traditional" perspective without first reducing it to some caricature, or piece of itself. We feign inclusion, when the very act of "inclusion" will always imply a heterosexual center for the TV viewer. Consequently, part of the confusing task in localizing some sort of queer epistemology in TV is that modes of queer representation will always rely on the denial of knowledge. Like Joyrich concludes, "however noteworthy in television history, Ellen's revelation need not herald a new sexual nor even TV age" (460).

To conlcude, I'd like to turn to a photo shows in class last week from an episode of "Cold Case." The photo depicts two women at what is presumably a marriage ceremony. Both are dressed in white, but one wears a tuxedo, while the other wears a tight gown and a veil. One is dressed like a "man," the other a woman. This sort of heteronormative depiction of a queer relationship -- enforcing "masculine" and "feminine" roles onto a same-sex relationship -- demonstrates how mainstream depictions of queer sexuality become essentialized into culturally digestible binaries. In the minds of the writers or director of Cold Case, a tuxedo and gown reads as a wedding.  Even this explicit demonstration of homosexual marriage relies on heterosexual cues. In an ironic twist, is this hetero depiction that clues the audience into the incriminating nature of the photo -- because we see two women inhabiting both a masculine and feminine presentation, we conclude the partnership is romantic. And we conclude that they must have wanted to hide it. If it were two women in gowns and veils, would we read the same relationship onto this image? What if the image were two women in tuxedos? This "inversion" of traditional marriage attire captured on film might would still clearly imply a queer relationship between the two women. Is it just more comfortable for US television to portray queer sexuality through a hetero-normative lens? A Joyrich writes, "In the epistemology of the console, some things are apparently better not really apprehended" (449).

As Needham points out in Scheduling Normativity, “it is through the management of time that television is able to produce normativity as one of its desired effects.” Scheduling, the systematic controlling and organization of time, in television “tells us what we can see and when we can see it,” and so this controlling force becomes implicit  in the viewer reception’s of television content. The Will and Grace episode “Acting Out” and its inclusion of an on air kiss between two men represents both an intervention and reification of television’s normative constructions of time and liveness.  On the NBC sitcom’s episode "Acting Out", Will kisses best friend Jack in front of The Today Show’s Al Rocker. The episodes plot was ripped from the headlines: in 1999  a man and his boyfriend pranked Al Roker during The Today Show, and kissed, demonstrating what is considered television’s first gay kiss.

Viewers tuning into Will & Grace are already accepting, as well as deriving entertainment, from a televisual depiction and engagement of homosexuality. With this in mind can the episode be read as a counter-discourse against heterosexual normativity? Will & Grace exists on primetime television, so while the display of homosexual intimacy on primetime television might appear controversial, or at least destabilizing of television’s normative content, the fact that the show is scheduled, and followed, makes it a “formal containment of subversion.” (Needham 145),

As a scheduled show, Will & Grace’s homosexual content and characters become familiar to the TV audience so that the show’s immersion into conventional TV scheduling works to gradually normalize these characters/content. But as Suzanne Walters points in The Explosion of Gay Visibility, “is the getting to know us a clear and untrammeled route to social change”? (11) Is this familiar exposure politically relevant? Will and Grace is in ( or was in ) a very precarious position: it has the ability to gradually ‘educate’ the TV audience on queer identity without having to bring political attention to itself, attention that could dissuade casual TV viewing, but the fact that it is scheduled also has the ability nullify any type of political potency the specific episode might have had.

The episode plays with the tension between the  scheduled and the unscheduled, with the expected and with the surprise.  Where as the actual gay kiss that occurred on The Today Show was a guerilla-style intervention into television’s “regulatory relationship between content and scheduling”, Jack and Will’s kiss was a highly anticipated event on a conventionally watched show. It did not have the element of surprise; the shock factor it was attempting to co-op by reenacting the actually shocking kiss that actually occurred.

Looking at the show more broadly, the show’s depictions of Jack and Will’s sexuality are decidedly apolitical.   Both characters are constructed within the two modes of representation described by Walter: “the exotic but ultimately unthreatening “other” or gays as really straights after all.” (15) The character of Will is presented as a traditionally masculine man, a character who acts straight but is gay. While this depiction refutes the stereotypical coding of femininity onto gay characters, the show depicts Will’s sexuality through his romantic encounters as awkward, and un-erotic. His neutered character exists in a strange liminal space between being pseudo-heterosexual and pseudo-homosexual (based on normative understandings of both categories). Jack’s sexuality is then presented as ridiculous and outlandish; with a sexual appetite that makes the authenticity of his sexuality un-real and laughable.                                            

Needham states that “the family is the cultural expression of television’s representational logic played out in most television genres and formats.” (146) Sidestepping my previous discussion of the depiction and Jack and Will’s sexuality, its interesting to think about where might the representation of family exist in a show like Will & Grace.  The four main characters could easily be transferred to four familial roles of the father, mother, son, and daughter (or simply two children). Will’s restrained sexuality but masculine exterior would make him the father. Grace’s neurotic tendencies, self-consciousness, and professional problems would make her the mother.  Jack and Karen in their laughable lack of seriousness, and out-of-touchness with norms or reality would constitute them as the children (or wild teenagers). While truly teasing out the show’s potential familial metaphor would demand more consideration of the show’s plot lines and character’s relations to one another, if we accept that a nuclear family structure is underpinning the show, then this opens up a completely new space for considering the political and social implications of it.

To the discerning viewer are normative family roles inscribed onto the characters, making the normativity of the characters the ‘inside joke’ of the show? Is the comic thrust of Will and Grace then the enactment of family dysfunction?

The end of 2011 and start of the new year brought about a lot of changes in terms of television—among the most noticeable, the cancellation of two of television’s most long-running and loved soap operas, All My Children and One Life to Live. I’ve never been interested in either show, but both names ring with familiarity and recognition for me. I assume this is the same with most people; the shows were such a prevalent influence in the media, and had quite a large fan base to boot. Soap operas have been around for decades, originating first as radio serials in the 1930s and eventually making their way to the television screen in the early 1950s. Now, in 2012, soap operas seem to be well past their peak and on the steady decline—or are they? It seems that the general opinion surrounding the slow but steady cancellation of daytime soaps is that it is inevitable with the modernization of both society and television as an industry, and that it is leading soap operas down a one-way road to extinction. However, I’m inclined to disagree, and after reading select articles—specifically, the work by Tania Modleski—I find myself thinking more and more that what daytime soaps are undergoing is not population decline, but indeed evolution by natural selection. Television is progressive, why would soaps not be so as well? The original, “old” soap operas are being cancelled, but they are being replaced by the soap operas of today.

            In Modleski’s work, she examines daytime soaps—among other similar show types—in terms of flow, content, and how the unique aspects of what makes them soap operas fit well into the daily lifestyle and television-viewing habits of the “housewife.” Of course, soap operas came to the foreground during a time when the housewife was also a common state of existence for many women. Modleski illustrates how the drawn-out plotlines, unresolved conflicts, and the strong emotional displays common in the genre all contribute to the overall enjoyment the housewife feels while watching soap operas. At the root of her argument is the role that a housewife fills—matronly, responsible for the welfare and gratification of others often with nothing in return, in charge of predicting her family’s desires and fulfilling them in advance—and how this creates a certain need for self-fulfillment that watching soap operas provides to an extent.  Also, the segmented style of the housewife’s work creates a state of distraction that suits the frequent interruptions in the plots of soaps. Much of Modleski’s analysis of soap opera influence is dated, and has to do with a way of living that has diminished with the advancements of society. It only makes sense that, with significantly less women living the lifestyle she described, there would be a correlated decrease in soap opera popularity. It also makes sense that, as a result, television production companies would try to find a way to meet that change head on, to keep soap operas in the spotlight as best as they could—hence the necessity of evolution.

            So what exactly are these “modern” soap operas? Do they look like the original ones? How have they changed to fit into present-day television format? It would be good to start out with one of the most apparent upgrades in the filmmaking world—single camera filming. Originally, soaps were filmed daily with multiple cameras. The episodes were filmed straight through, scene-by-scene with one take per scene if possible. This style of filming allows for quick production—soap operas typically released an episode per day, and multi-camera filming negates the necessity of a good amount of editing—but, to its disadvantage, the quality of the  production is significantly poorer than other styles. Today, most viewers are used to seeing their favorite show once weekly anyway, and with improvements in technology creating small competitions between show producers to create the best quality shows, switching to single camera is a must if soaps want to even compare to today’s shows. Daily premiering of new episodes is a thing of the past, which frees today’s soaps to invest more into acting, plot development, editing, and more. Such a drastic change is what helped to bring about today’s soaps, shows like Desperate Housewives, True Blood, One Tree Hill, and more. Didn’t think they were soaps when you were watching them? Think again! When analyzed, each show displays the same characteristics (not including the anachronisms from the “housewife” era) as the original soap operas. They involve the “absurd content” mentioned in Modleski’s work, which lists “numerous murders, kidnappings, blackmail attempts, emergency operations, amnesia attacks, etc.” as some examples (p 68). They all feature grounded main characters to provide for the sense of “averageness” she also mentions—as an example, Susan Meyer in Desperate Housewives is somewhat more central to the show than the other characters (perhaps a result of her relateability), and is clumsy, has money troubles, is recently divorced and looking for love; she is, in essence, very much akin to a large portion of the show’s viewers. These shows also feature the drawn-out plotlines and fragmented presentation of plot development—here we take True Blood as an example (SPOILER ALERT). At the end of the second season, there is a marriage proposal between two central characters, but before an answer is given (and viewers are shown what exactly that answer would have been), something drastic (and “absurd,” as mentioned above) occurs that prevents the proposal from being answered. True Blood thrives on ending episodes—not just seasons—with such cliffhangers, and this keeps audiences interested enough to wait for another week. If anything, a feature of more modern soap operas are these heightened, dramatic cliffhangers; an evolutionary change to account for less frequent airings, perhaps. True Blood even features a special section of videos on YouTube called the “Cliffhanger Series,” to further drive the point home. So now today’s soaps are higher quality, more dramatic, and aired weekly. These airings have also switched from the daytime to primetime—Sunday nights have been a very popular time slot for these “neo-soaps.” With more and more women working full-time jobs, daytime television in general has gone down in popularity. Interestingly enough, the Sunday night time slots—that, I’m assuming were selected to make them more accessible to the working woman—have been seized upon by a new and somewhat unexpected fan-base: teenagers.  Viewers between the ages of 14 and 24 (estimated age range) have become a major demographic and influence on television show popularity. As you can see, a multitude of “environmental factors” have contributed to the evolution of the soap opera.

            As a quick side note, you should be aware that this is primarily an American change—soap operas are quite popular in many Spanish-speaking countries as well as large regions of Asia, and England. That being said, the decline of the original soap opera is a very real thing in America. While the old, memorable shows will be mourned and missed by their fans, they need fear not, for reinforcements have arrived, in the form of neo-soaps!

The following videos are from True Blood's "Cliffhanger" series on YouTube. Yes, they're rife with SPOILERS. But also yes, they exemplify the points of my argument.

There are many issues that affect the entire LGBT community’s representation in the media; some issues affecting one section of the LGBT community more than others. That is to say, many of the problems bisexual men face in the media are different than those faced by lesbians, and those that lesbians face are different than the issues transmen and transwomen are facing, etc. I would like to focus on one way in which gay men are treated unequally in television shows produced for a wide audience: sex scenes.

In order to achieve sexually just programming, if a television show has gay and straight characters and portrays straight sex scenes, then it should give the gay sex scenes the same treatments as its straight sex scenes. The most recent example of a television show that fails to give the gay sex scenes the same treatments as its straight sex scenes is Game of Thrones.

Game of Thrones doesn’t just have a few straight sex scenes; it has a slew of them, coincided with a large dose of male and female full frontal nudity. However, it’s also a show that uses that sex and nudity as a storytelling device. This is true from the first sex scene of the show between the twins Cersei and Jamie Lannister, all the way to the most recent sex scene: the teenage king, Joffrey, forcing a prostitute to beat another prostitute for his own entertainment. A lot of these scenes aren’t even particularly erotic. Instead they are used to drive a narrative. What’s more, this use of sex is consistent with the way the book series that Game of Thrones is based on, A Song of Ice and Fire, uses sex: to further a story or explain a character.

A glaring difference between the book and the television show is found in the depiction of the gay couple, Renly and Loras. The book is written from the perspective of only a few of the characters; neither Renly nor Loras being one of them. The television show, on the other hand, does tell the story from Renly’s perspective. In episode 4 of season 2, there is something of a sex scene between Renly and Loras. In the scene, Renly and Loras kiss and pet heavily before ending up shirtless and on Renly’s bed. The scene then continues with dialogue followed by Renly trying to kiss Loras again. Now, Renly is married to Loras’ sister, Margaery, and Loras snidely suggests he trades places with his sister so that Renly can fulfill his “kingly duty” of producing an heir. Renly protests, but Loras ends up leaving. A few moments later Margaery comes in and Renly is completely unable to have sex with her. Margaery, aware of the relationship between Renly and her brother, suggests bringing Loras back into the bedroom to help out. There is a brief discussion between Renly and Margaery about how they need to do whatever is necessary to make sure Margaery becomes pregnant. Then it cuts away, and we don’t know whether they did actually end up inviting Loras back into the room or not.

As a result of the double standards of acceptable sexuality in our society, the show fails to address what a threesome between Margaery, Renly and Loras would even be like. The show’s creators have already shown they’re not bothered about depicting incest, as evidenced by their inclusion of a scene where Cersei and Jamie have sex. Yet, when it involves a gay couple and a sibling, the creators suddenly become hesitant. I am interested in seeing how Renly, Loras and Margaery would negotiate such a situation.

I believe the depiction of homosexuality and race are very similar in their evolution of representation on television. Since race’s representation came before homosexuality, that is the basis I will use for my comparison. There are three general facets of race’s evolution in being shown on television. The first is the taboo nature of the initial representation; the second is that the negative stereotypes are used as the basis for the character formation, and third is the response/ backlash from the represented group. These facets are the path that homosexuality on television has followed.

Initially, different races were not represented on television. This was due to the, then current, race relations in the United States; white was seen as being the dominant and “right” way of life. When different races began to be depicted on television, it was seen as being taboo; unfamiliar territory. A way of introducing other racial groups into television shows was through having a single character on the show of a different race. This can still be seen in shows such as Psych, which has a black sidekick, and some soap operas. Also, the different racial character is always a source of trouble/ drama. This is also the case with homosexuality. Whenever a homosexual character is introduced into a show, there is always tension and the issue is a big deal. The network has tons of promotion material and plays off of the taboo nature of the issue. This was seen in the soap opera, All My Children’s, advertisement of a lesbian kiss. We viewed the following clip in class.  And even after the big premiere, the character’s sexual orientation is used to define them.

http://youtu.be/pPkSWLzWLCo *embedding disabled by this user.

The homosexuality of the character is always the root of their conflicts with others and even themselves. In this week’s screening of an episode of Glee, being homosexual was one of the issues on the show. Several members of the episode were having conflict, either within or with others because they were homosexual. And even when one character tried to take issue with another aspect of her personality that was troublesome; the writers of the show stirred it back towards her sexual orientation. No homosexual character is ever at peace with being gay.

*Sorry for the bad quality. 

There is also a token “gay man” of the cast. The audience doesn’t really learn much about his life; he’s sort of used as filler. The following video is from a YouTube channel produced by Mio Water called Sassy Gay Friend; whether this is a parody or not, I don’t know. The beginning part of the clip (narrator speaking) summarizes the notion that television has about the gay male character.

Another facet of race on television that is also seen in homosexuality on television is the heavy usage of stereotypes as the underlying basis for the character’s composition. Kurt on Glee is portrayed as being very feminine. His mannerisms are similar to that of a girl’s: he puts his hands on his hips (often), his voice is highly pitched and he sits very neat – legs crossed and hands clasped.

Obviously, not all male homosexuals act this way (some do and that is okay); just like not all people of a certain race act or look the same.

The last facet of racial representation on television that homosexuality on television mimics is the response/ backlash from members of that group and advocates. There are two sides of the response: those who oppose current representation and those who think it’s “better-than-nothing.” This facet is the current state and the last part of the path of homosexuality (and race) on television. Many people believe that having homosexuality on television in any form is great for combating the taboo nature of it in society. Sometimes, this works; such as in the show Ellen. The “coming out” episode, which we watched in screening, of the main character was tastefully done and highlighted the turmoil a person experiences in that situation but in a comedic way. Other times, this falls flat such as in Glee. The homosexual characters, on the show, are one-dimensional. Their sexual orientation defines the character. This is exactly the same as a Black/ Hispanic/ Asian character solely being defined by their race. Those outraged by this have a right to be; a person is much more than who they choose to sleep or have a relationship with.

The ironing out race and homosexuality’s representation on television has not happened, yet. Not until society is closer to acceptance of both groups will television follow suit. I do believe acceptance is possible but there will always be someone who’s still unhappy. 

I agree with Waters; gay culture has made and is indeed making its way into the media, and continues to break further away from the taboo shackles that prevented it in previous decades.  ‘Previous decades’ sounds so vague though; I wanted to mention a specific one, but discovered how hard it was to single out a defining time at which the media branded ‘gay’ acceptable.  I knew that the 60s was all but accepting of public homosexuality, and the 70s showed us little the better.  However, I was shocked when I realised that the ‘grand unveiling’ of Ellen Morgan (concurrent with her portrayer, Ellen DeGeneres) as a lesbian on the sitcom Ellen, was in 1997.  The 2- part episode, in which the main character Ellen Morgan comes to terms with her true sexual orientation, appears to have been an innovative milestone, and motivational catalyst in terms of how homosexuality is represented in the media.  1997 though…  Really?  I find that uncomfortably close to the present to believe that even then, only 15 years ago, this sparked such a huge sensation in the media.  I was astonished even more, to find that much of the media hype surrounding the Puppy Episode was shrouded in controversies, which prompted ABC to place a parental advisory at the start of each episode and move the show time to 9pm.  Their argument was, “ABC has an obligation to communicate with parents as much information as possible so they can make educated viewing decisions regarding their younger children."  Ellen responded with, "This advisory is telling kids something's wrong with being gay" and only after a long struggle, was able to convince them to remove it.  Despite the torrent of negative backlash (further described here: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,282999_2,00.html), and although it was not necessarily embraced, ‘gay’ was however, getting openly addressed by the media; the hype couldn’t be ignored, negative and positive alike.  In (such close) hindsight, it seems ridiculous, but I believe that the Puppy Episode is largely responsible for taking the first (baby) steps towards media wide gay recognition.  Although a blow to DeGeneres, even the heated opposition from the ‘debacle’ seems to have contributed hugely to thinning the ice barrier between the media and gay culture. 

So how thin is the ice now?  Have we broken it?  In 15 years, synchronous with the snowball effect of media technology, homosexuality has come far.  Extremely far:-

If a lead character on Two and a Half Men or How I Met Your Mother were to suddenly proclaim him/herself as gay, the majority of regular viewers would scarcely bat an eyelid.  In fact, a larger reaction could probably be garnered by having a gay person reveal that he/she were straight… perhaps viewers’ brows would furrow momentarily in faint surprise.  Fortunately, the Media (and by way of it, the public) should now be of the opinion that shows with gay characters or actors have become rather the norm.  These are times in which parental advisories portend content including severed heads, pornography or a step by step guide to becoming a heroin addict.  The list goes on, but what they do not preface, are scenes of a mildly sexual nature between same sex couples.  What heterosexual people can do uncensored, so can homosexual people; it seems simple, and ever more absurd to think that ABC plastered warnings over episodes that potentially involved two women getting coffee.

    Waters outlines the growing acceptance of gay presence in the media, owing its majority to the increase in self-professed gay icons of popular culture, “Superstars are coming out all over -- from Martina Navratilova and her parade of glamorous lovers to skirt-wearing, made-up basketball star Dennis Rodman, who proclaims his sexual "openness" to legions of presumably homophobic sports fans.”  Hollywood (et al), always quick to catch onto a trend, has recently been spouting various gay and bisexual claims or kisses or ‘penchants’… Perhaps more productively giving rise to waves of celebrities campaigning for LGBT welfare.  Whilst it is important to provide organisations like HRC with the means to reach out to the LGBT community, there is also a flip side.  The media should not publicise being gay as though it were a fashion statement; although this well meaning, the reality is that ‘trend’ status encourages stereotypes and exploitation.  This notion is satirised in the mockumentary Angry Boys, which recently aired on HBO: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWo9bC4qlFc&feature=related

In her sub-chapter, Homosexuality Lite: Beyond Gay Chic, Waters puts another form of acceptance under scrutiny, “Few seem able to move beyond the cultural preoccupation with gays as "really" just the same as heterosexuals after all…dangers of a thoughtless assimilationism. What kind of life can be lived when it is made "acceptable" by the refusal of its difference, its specificity?”  Why is it so hard to find the perfect balance between acknowledgement and respectfulness?  The Media is like a reformed school bully, trying desperately too hard to either include its old victims, or pretend nothing ever happened. Given the immense progress gay culture made in the media since 1997, I would have hoped for a larger improvement since Waters wrote her book (2001).  It appears however, that the media will remain more or less in the same rut; while commercial media is primarily fed to and by heteronormative views, there is only so close it can come to fully accepting the gay community.  In a world without heteronormativity, TV shows would be able to choose their lead characters’ sexual orientation with the same insouciance as choosing their hair length.  That is an ideal, but the frustrating reality is that, no, the ice barrier has yet to be broken, thin as it may be.

In screening this week, we watched many different shows that highlighted some of the significant moments in television's history with its representation of gays. One of the things that we were supposed to think about is how far we have come as a society since Ellen's coming out or Will and Jack's kiss on national television. While I do admit that times have changed a substantial amount, there are still many issues standing in the way of total assimilation.

Despite the fact that Will and Jack’s kiss was an important moment in the fight for equality, it was clearly used mainly to gain laughs and not romantic in any sense of the word. The first real romantic man-on-man liplock wasn’t until a few years later in Dawson’s Creek when Jack finally builds up the courage to kiss, although only for a couple seconds, Ethan to show that he isn’t afraid anymore.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10qgs0jFB5U

(It gets good around 1:10)

Although it has been over 10 years since the first same sex kiss on television, there is still huge hesitation from major networks to allow such blatant displays of affection. One of the most popular shows of our time, Modern Family, is a perfect example of this. While the show has gone on to break many social norms by having a gay couple with an adopted child as two of the central characters, there is still clearly an issue with allowing them to show their love physically. Throughout the first season, while the other characters were often shown kissing their significant other of the opposite sex, Cam and Mitchell were restricted to merely hugging and occasionally intimately holding hands. The show is more likely to show two people of opposite genders that are not in a relationship kissing than the one gay couple.

This went somewhat unnoticed for a while, due to the show’s ability to draw attention away from the fact they were not expressing their relationship in this way. Like Joyrich talks about in the article we read, “evasion might still be the operative strategy even when a gay man or lesbian is labeled as such” (451). The show has branded Mitchell and Cam as a very serious gay couple, and yet they continue to avoid an obvious and substantial part of any relationship. This fact really fact the public’s eye in an episode where Phil, Claire, Mitch and Cam all meet up at the airport, and in the same frame, Phil and Claire are shown sharing a peck on the lips while Cam and Mitch are in the background, simply hugging. This caused serious backlash from many fans, with many complaints getting sent into ABC and Facebook groups forming as a petition to have Mitch and Cam kiss. 

Eventually, in the second episode of the second season, the issue is addressed. The plotline between Mitch and Cam revolves around Mitch’s hatred of “PDA”, and multiple times throughout the episode Mitch ducks out of the way of Cam’s incoming lips. This is resolved by the end of the half hour, and although it is subtle and in the background of the scene, the shows signature gay couple finally enjoy a tasteful peck.

Although this is a momentous moment for the show, the fact that it is a big deal shows that although our society has made huge strides with accepting people’s sexual identities, we still have a long way to go until sexual desire is as accepted.  Walter’s was right when he said “Just because Roseanne gets kissed by a woman on TV doesn't mean that a gay person walking down the street is able to feel comfortable holding her lover's hand, much less planting a visible kiss”. The hesitation from television shows to show same sex affection reflects the hesitation that these couples have in reality, and no amount of on screen kissing will completely alleviate the bigger issue that is at hand. 

In the chapter from Suzanna Walters’ book that we read, she makes two interesting observations. One is that there are only two accepted modes of representation for gays in the media- that of the exotic “other” and that of the “really straight after all” position of sameness. The other is that while gays have been increasing their visibility in the public eye and become a part of mainstream culture, their political position has not enjoyed the same advancement, and perhaps even suffered from the proliferation of gays in the media. On the Logo reality show RuPaul’s Drag Race this season, a whole episode was devoted to a mock political debate between the queens. This episode highlights the tension between gays on TV and gays in politics, as Ru and the other judges both take the show and the contestants seriously and as caricatures at the same time.

Episode 9 of the show, entitled “Frock the Vote,” saw the five remaining drag-testants dress up and participate in a debate showing why they should be the first drag President of the United States of America. They had to come up with campaign slogans, opening and closing statements, and issues for their platform, and answer questions in a debate. At first this seems like an opportunity for the show to seriously push a liberal gay agenda and discuss the issues of gay rights and gays in politics, and that is how Ru indirectly frames it when he tells the queens that he needs to know what the next American Drag Superstar “really stands for.” But the way the challenge is handled later on complicates the message and possible responses to the “debate.”

Each contestant creates a different persona for the debate, with three of them most notable/interesting. Chad Michaels creates a trailer-trash ladypimp ghetto-sassy character with a pink poofy wig and a leopard pant-suit, who says she wants to “fit the White House with an up-do.”

Phi Phi O’Hara creates a Sarah Palin-esque, prejudiced and stupid character.

Sharon Needles creates a serious Hilary Clinton-styled character with dead-pan humor (“Sharon Needles, for sharing responsibility”).

None of the contestants takes on an ultra-serious, non-comedic approach to the challenge, each mocking it in her own way. While these contestants are acting out an extreme femininity and an extreme homosexual for the show, they are also parodying politicians and the political process, which is troubling considering the goal of this challenge was to address important gay political issues. It is this sort of hyper-visible gay spectacle that may be contributing to Walters’ argument about the struggles of gay rights in politics.

Because while everyone is treating the debate as mostly a joke, others may not see it that way. Just hearing the mention of a drag queen president, or hearing a possible platform of “socialism for drag queens,” could make many people panic and react negatively. The mixture of “real politics” with over-the-top comedy and caricatures reduces the stakes of their actual struggle. Walters writes that “Some have argued that the contemporary moment reveals an accepting and positive cultural milieu for gays but a retrogressive and excluding political environment” (14), and it seems here that RuPaul is unintentionally proliferating both.

            The judges’ comments about the queens’ performances is also confusing. First off, a special judge and mentor of this episode was Dan Savage, the founder of the It Gets Better project to help gay teens deal with prosecution. His inclusion immediately signals that the show is going for “political realness,” and most of his comments are logical and serious. He also represents the one “really straight after all gay” in this episode of the show, as he doesn’t act or dress flamboyantly like everyone else. What is interesting about the final judgment of the queens is that the two polar opposite performers are the most highly praised. Sharon, who looked the most like an actual politician in a maroon suit and traditional makeup, won the challenge for her poise and articulation, while still staying funny. The most realistic depiction of a politician wins, in a competition fueled by hyperreality and cartoon-ish personalities. Chad, the ridiculous character who never addressed real issues, came in second place. As Savage says, “in every election there are joke candidates, like Michele Bachmann and Newt Gingrich.” Here again, real political commentary is interspersed with jokes and hyperbolic representations of gays and politicians. Another example is that during the debate, one of the more pointed questions was “Should drag queens be allow to marry?” and contestant Dida Ritz answers that they should definitely be allowed to marry, either to other drag queens or even to a dog. This sort of comment is just the thing that fuels the fires of the Right-wing agenda. And other important topics like funding for HIV and AIDS patients are glossed over in favor of hearing how Dida wants to redecorate the White House in everything Ralph Lauren. It is very gay, but not very successful at pushing a gay agenda.

            Walters says that “The cultural moment is not wholly embracing, nor the political moment wholly rejecting: both realms coexist and interact in an uneasy mix of opportunity and opposition, inclusion and exclusion,” (14) and this episode certainly exemplifies that uneasy contention. How are people supposed to take gay issues seriously if the queens on this show, an extremely popular one, depict gay politicians as either stupid, incompetent, sexually deviant, and/or superficial? Savage mentions in the episode that everyone has to get out and vote because politicians are going to demonize minorities if no one is there to stand up for them, but standing up in this way hinders the cause more than it helps. I applaud RuPaul’s effort to introduce politics into the show, but I don’t think the way it is done is likely to inform anyone about the issues nor garner any serious support for the gay rights movement.

View the full episode here:

In order to retain its relevance, television programming has historically provided commentary on hot button topics.  Television is known to be so in tune with worldly issues that it is often hard to determine if society influences what happens on television or if what is on television influences what happens in society.  I feel like the two go hand-in-hand.  Sexuality is no exception.  Television was one of the first platforms to introduce homosexual culture to America, even before six states began to recognize same-sex marriage.  Television has played a pivotal role in the acceptance of the gay community.

One of the most influential television series in this regard is Ellen.  On May 30, 1997, Ellen DeGeneres became the first openly lesbian actor to play the lead role as a lesbian in a TV sitcom.  The episode we watched in screening followed Ellen’s struggle to come to terms with herself and accept her status as a member of the lesbian community.  The episode offered hope to many individuals going through the same struggles as Ellen.  From her rebellious attempt to prove her heterosexuality, to her reluctant declaration in the airport, the process she went through aligned with that of some of her viewers.  Sitcoms like Ellen followed by the likes of Will & Grace showed a positive representation of gays and familiarized society with them. 

The disconnect between real life homosexuals and on-screen gays is often a problem.  The “tension between the fictional and real, the live and the recorded, is particularly noteworthy in television's treatment of queer subjects” (Joyrich 446.)  Because of this, gay characters do not always appeal to the homosexual community as strongly as intended.  With the rise in popularity of reality television, however, real life gays have been given the opportunity to rise to stardom.  Richard Hatch, winner of Survivor and one of reality TV's first breakout stars, proved that gays and lesbians were not just the product of Hollywood's imagination. Gay couple Chip Arndt and Reichen Lehmkuhl won season four of The Amazing Race.  These characters offer a greater connection to the gay viewer.  They are not some figment of television’s imagination, but normal people accomplishing great things while positively representing the gay community.

Despite the number of positive representations of the gay community, there are negative sources that can influence the way that people think.  A prime example is 2009 mockumentary Brüno.  In the film, Sacha Baron Cohen brings Bruno, a flamboyantly gay Austrian fashionista, into ridiculous situations with unsuspecting everyday people.  It is important for television programming to share positive representation of the gay community and avoid the negative.  Homosexuals need to be accurately portrayed in order to accelerate their assimilation into society.