In this piece I will write about the presence of stereotypes in current television shows whose target demographic is late teens/those in their early 20’s. The larger statement about American popular culture I will be making is that America loves stereotypes. Stereotypes sell, and that is why shows that profit from including stereotypes continue to saturate our television screens. I will also explore the history of TV stereotypes, and how older shows relate to current shows.
My primary source will be the show “Glee”, which made its début last year. “Glee” is a show about a high school Glee club, and the struggle the students involved in the club have faced, many of them ranging from teenage pregnancy to bullying. “Glee” will be my primary source because it’s a recent and an extremely successful show. Also because “Glee” incorporates just about every stereotype known to man: the geek, the football player, the cheerleader, the physically disabled, and more. It also includes a multitude of racial and weight-based stereotypes. It has been a highly controversial show.
Other examples of shows, new and old, include but are not limited to: Saved by the Bell, Gossip Girl, Greek, The Office, Ugly Betty, and Family Matters.
Stereotyping in television shows has been going on for years, but it has continued to be a driving force in American television shows, which is why the piece is relevant to popular culture today. Networks are continuing to profit from these series, which is what my examples will support.
I am the right person to write this piece because I watch (most of, but not all of) these television shows and I am within the targeted demographic.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Pauline Kael knew movies, at the very least (rewrite)
American film critic Pauline Kael expected a lot from the cinema. By the end of her 23-year tenure at the New Yorker, she was exhausted by all of the negative reviews she had given actors like Barbra Streisand—actors she believed had potential they weren’t displaying on screen. Movies that others loved, classic films like “It’s A Wonderful Life” and “The Sound of Music”, she slammed. She called Alain Resnais’s “Hiroshima Mon Amour” an advertisement selling peace, and admitted the audience, people who were “bowled over by it,” felt otherwise. In that same review she made it clear that she thought all American films were forms of advertisement selling some way of life.
In Will Brantley’s book, Conversations with Pauline Kael, Kael said she enjoyed writing reviews of bad movies that were universally praised and drew in globs of money. She wanted to tell people they were being scammed.
Any critic wants his or her voice to be heard, but Kael always thought about her audience. And that’s the cardinal role of all critics.
In Conversations, Kael claimed studios were satisfied with “utter conventionality” in movies because they were terrified of anything that didn’t satisfy the networks. But Kael wasn’t afraid of dissatisfying anyone. She didn’t view movies the way the mass audience did, which was reflected in her criticism of popular movies like “The Sound of Music,” which was in her opinion, “the sugar-coated lie people seem to want to eat.”
Kael admitted in Francis Davis’s book Afterglow that she enjoyed reading very few critics. One of those few was Andrew Sarris because he had genuine reactions to movies, and many critics don’t, in her opinion. She introduced ideas most people didn’t think to consider, because many of them weren’t accepted by the public at large. But the conversational tone she used in her reviews reflected her desire to write in a language the public could, and did, understand.
Film critic Sheila Benson, best known for her tenure at the Los Angeles Times from 1981-91, once heard someone say, “Pauline Kael has the shortest chute from her brain to her mouth of anyone I’ve ever heard speak.”
But Kael’s style, that conversational tone she infused in her writing that made it accessible to the average American, was criticized by many of her peers, including film critic Renata Adler.
In “House Critic,” Adler condemns Kael for her straightforwardness, and her “vain, overbearing, foolish, hysterical” voice that developed out of strong opinions of what Adler believes are unimportant subject matters. She complains about Kael’s quirks and tactics that have such dominance throughout her writing only to emphasize a unique style that is the very reason she altered 20th century criticism for the better.
In 1979, Kael took a leave of absence in reviewing to work with Warren Beatty in Hollywood as an executive consultant for Paramount Pictures, where she remained for only five months. Although her stay was short-lived, Kael had first-hand experience in film production and preparation. She experienced film on both ends of the spectrum. Kael made bold claims in her criticism, but she was never ignorant. If she hated a popular film, well, she had the authority to back those bold claims. And contrary to what Adler so brazenly declares in "House Critic", she certainly did know about movies.
In Will Brantley’s book, Conversations with Pauline Kael, Kael said she enjoyed writing reviews of bad movies that were universally praised and drew in globs of money. She wanted to tell people they were being scammed.
Any critic wants his or her voice to be heard, but Kael always thought about her audience. And that’s the cardinal role of all critics.
In Conversations, Kael claimed studios were satisfied with “utter conventionality” in movies because they were terrified of anything that didn’t satisfy the networks. But Kael wasn’t afraid of dissatisfying anyone. She didn’t view movies the way the mass audience did, which was reflected in her criticism of popular movies like “The Sound of Music,” which was in her opinion, “the sugar-coated lie people seem to want to eat.”
Kael admitted in Francis Davis’s book Afterglow that she enjoyed reading very few critics. One of those few was Andrew Sarris because he had genuine reactions to movies, and many critics don’t, in her opinion. She introduced ideas most people didn’t think to consider, because many of them weren’t accepted by the public at large. But the conversational tone she used in her reviews reflected her desire to write in a language the public could, and did, understand.
Film critic Sheila Benson, best known for her tenure at the Los Angeles Times from 1981-91, once heard someone say, “Pauline Kael has the shortest chute from her brain to her mouth of anyone I’ve ever heard speak.”
But Kael’s style, that conversational tone she infused in her writing that made it accessible to the average American, was criticized by many of her peers, including film critic Renata Adler.
In “House Critic,” Adler condemns Kael for her straightforwardness, and her “vain, overbearing, foolish, hysterical” voice that developed out of strong opinions of what Adler believes are unimportant subject matters. She complains about Kael’s quirks and tactics that have such dominance throughout her writing only to emphasize a unique style that is the very reason she altered 20th century criticism for the better.
In 1979, Kael took a leave of absence in reviewing to work with Warren Beatty in Hollywood as an executive consultant for Paramount Pictures, where she remained for only five months. Although her stay was short-lived, Kael had first-hand experience in film production and preparation. She experienced film on both ends of the spectrum. Kael made bold claims in her criticism, but she was never ignorant. If she hated a popular film, well, she had the authority to back those bold claims. And contrary to what Adler so brazenly declares in "House Critic", she certainly did know about movies.
Monday, February 15, 2010
So what she hated The Sound of Music
(Audience: New York Times)
Pauline Kael expected a lot from the cinema. Movies that others loved, epic films like “It’s A Wonderful Life” and “Hiroshima Mon Amour”, she slammed. By the end of her career, she was exhausted by all the negative reviews she had given actors like Barbra Streisand, actors she believed had potential they weren’t displaying on screen.
Kael had a style unmatched by any of her peers at the time. She didn’t view movies the way the mass audience did, which was reflected in her criticism of popular movies like “The Sound of Music.” But film was her passion, it was what she loved, and, contrary to what Renata Adler declares in “House Critic,” film was what she cared about. She dedicated twenty-three years of her life to film criticism at the New Yorker.
Kael was criticized for talking about everything but the movie in her reviews. Adler believes Kael was never satisfied, that she used rhetorical questions to show off what she knew, and that her vocabulary really only consisted of nine words, most of which were some derivative of her favorite slang terms. Adler especially despised Kael’s use of the “we”, “you”, “they”, “ought”. In formal analysis one is taught to leave the “I” and “we” out of it, there is a time and place for opinion, and it’s not in a formal essay. Kael indeed put a large chunk of personality into her reviews and broke all the rules.
The conversation of personality in criticism would be a heated one between Oscar Wilde and Adler. Adler denounces Kael’s tendency to use “you” when she refers to her personal opinion. No critic has the grounds to say what the audience should feel, or what they do feel, which Kael is guilty of. But what she created was beyond criticism; it was a form of art. In “The Critic as Artist,” Wilde says all criticism itself is an art, and with art, personality is inevitable.
Wilde was concerned with the realness and trueness of criticism, and believed the personal element made it richer, more satisfying and more convincing. And since what Kael created was in fact art, she hasn’t done anything wrong. Her work has served its purpose as a work of art, which is to provide pleasure to and stir an emotional reaction within the audience. Kael took a light-hearted movie like the “Sound of Music”, called it “the sugar-coated lie people seem to want to eat,” and unveiled a unique interpretation. The role of the critic is to discover a richer (or maybe just thought-provoking, in this case) meaning behind a work of art.
Kael revealed underlying messages that most people didn’t think to consider. In “The Critic as Artist,” Wilde says, “the function of literature is to create, from the rough material of actual existence, a new world that will be more marvelous, more enduring, and more true than the world that common eyes look upon.” And that’s what she did. Kael brought films to life in a new light, and into a world common eyes didn’t see. It was a radically different world from her peers, but she gave us rare insight to last a lifetime.
Pauline Kael expected a lot from the cinema. Movies that others loved, epic films like “It’s A Wonderful Life” and “Hiroshima Mon Amour”, she slammed. By the end of her career, she was exhausted by all the negative reviews she had given actors like Barbra Streisand, actors she believed had potential they weren’t displaying on screen.
Kael had a style unmatched by any of her peers at the time. She didn’t view movies the way the mass audience did, which was reflected in her criticism of popular movies like “The Sound of Music.” But film was her passion, it was what she loved, and, contrary to what Renata Adler declares in “House Critic,” film was what she cared about. She dedicated twenty-three years of her life to film criticism at the New Yorker.
Kael was criticized for talking about everything but the movie in her reviews. Adler believes Kael was never satisfied, that she used rhetorical questions to show off what she knew, and that her vocabulary really only consisted of nine words, most of which were some derivative of her favorite slang terms. Adler especially despised Kael’s use of the “we”, “you”, “they”, “ought”. In formal analysis one is taught to leave the “I” and “we” out of it, there is a time and place for opinion, and it’s not in a formal essay. Kael indeed put a large chunk of personality into her reviews and broke all the rules.
The conversation of personality in criticism would be a heated one between Oscar Wilde and Adler. Adler denounces Kael’s tendency to use “you” when she refers to her personal opinion. No critic has the grounds to say what the audience should feel, or what they do feel, which Kael is guilty of. But what she created was beyond criticism; it was a form of art. In “The Critic as Artist,” Wilde says all criticism itself is an art, and with art, personality is inevitable.
Wilde was concerned with the realness and trueness of criticism, and believed the personal element made it richer, more satisfying and more convincing. And since what Kael created was in fact art, she hasn’t done anything wrong. Her work has served its purpose as a work of art, which is to provide pleasure to and stir an emotional reaction within the audience. Kael took a light-hearted movie like the “Sound of Music”, called it “the sugar-coated lie people seem to want to eat,” and unveiled a unique interpretation. The role of the critic is to discover a richer (or maybe just thought-provoking, in this case) meaning behind a work of art.
Kael revealed underlying messages that most people didn’t think to consider. In “The Critic as Artist,” Wilde says, “the function of literature is to create, from the rough material of actual existence, a new world that will be more marvelous, more enduring, and more true than the world that common eyes look upon.” And that’s what she did. Kael brought films to life in a new light, and into a world common eyes didn’t see. It was a radically different world from her peers, but she gave us rare insight to last a lifetime.
Monday, February 1, 2010
K College English Department shows its vulnerable side
Audience: The Index
Dr. Gail Griffin, Professor of English at Kalamazoo College, confessed to nearly 80 K students, “tonight we make ourselves vulnerable,” speaking on behalf of the Kalamazoo College English Department. Faculty members gathered in the Olmsted Room at 7 p.m. on January 27 to read short excerpts from personal works of poetry, non-fiction and fiction, and to “generate some light” during a dispiriting winter quarter, according to Griffin.
All department faculty members were present, with the exception of Amy Smith, Associate Professor of English, who is currently on sabbatical. The department welcomed two new members this year, Amy Rodgers, postdoctoral teaching fellow, and Beth Marzoni, both visiting instructors.
Griffin opened the event with a few words about the evening and introduced the first speaker, Dr. Andy Mozina, chair of the department, who read an excerpt from his fictional piece, “My Non-Sexual Affair.” Mozina drew laughs from the student crowd with a description of his non-sexual love affair with a woman named Linda, which he comes to realize is just a special friendship.
Marin Heinritz, Glenn Deutsch, Amelia Katanski, Babli Sinha, Bruce Mills and Amy Rodgers read excerpts from current works of non-fiction. Sinha's conference paper analyzing the role of Indian women in modern media and technology stood out among the other readings that were, in contrast to hers, very representative of her colleagues' personalities and experiences.
Deutsch read a piece about his vulgar father, Melvin, “wanting to be a red neck but being from Brooklyn,” as narrated by a 14 year-old Deutsch in 1969. Katanski spoke about her uncle’s life, which she connected to the four noble truths of Buddhism, and Heinritz read an excerpt from the coming-of-age memoir about her defeat of cancer at 17, highlighting her mother’s character with great expression.
Diane Seuss, the College’s writer-in-residence, read from her next collection, a response to an article in the New Yorker about William Burroughs called “I Dreamed I Met William Burroughs.” Seuss’s response, “It Wasn’t a Dream I Knew William Burroughs,” was a graphic and humorous illustration of porn and heroine, tuna fish sandwich cravings during pregnancy, and “condescending assholes” which served to expose her counter belief that Burroughs, an addict, was a poor influence on everyone including her boyfriend. She read a second piece called “Birthday Confessions”, written as a series of confessions to a priest, which drew chronic laughter from the audience.
Rodgers, a Shakespeare and film expert, comes to the College passionate to teach drama. She is currently working on a play about Robert Frost’s son Carol, who committed suicide in 1940. Marzoni’s work focuses on contemporary poetry and creative writing. Her poem, “Rothko’s Room”, was inspired by an exhibition by artist Mark Rothko at the Tate Modern Art Museum in London.
Griffin has been at work on a novel about the murder-suicide that occurred on campus ten years ago. She read from the last chapter which illustrates the aftermath of the deaths of students Maggie Wardle and Neenef Odah. Griffin’s desire to tell the story of their deaths extends beyond her novel; every October, Griffin joins Wardle’s family and K students in Stetson Chapel to reflect as a community.
Mills ended the event with a reading from a book of essays about his son Jacob’s autism, “An Archaeology of Yearning,” in which he explains his conflicting desires and the ability to fill gaps through language.
It’s not often K College professors have the opportunity to read personal works of literature for a group of 80 students to hear. This event served as a reminder that students aren’t the only ones who have a vulnerable side for others to see.
Dr. Gail Griffin, Professor of English at Kalamazoo College, confessed to nearly 80 K students, “tonight we make ourselves vulnerable,” speaking on behalf of the Kalamazoo College English Department. Faculty members gathered in the Olmsted Room at 7 p.m. on January 27 to read short excerpts from personal works of poetry, non-fiction and fiction, and to “generate some light” during a dispiriting winter quarter, according to Griffin.
All department faculty members were present, with the exception of Amy Smith, Associate Professor of English, who is currently on sabbatical. The department welcomed two new members this year, Amy Rodgers, postdoctoral teaching fellow, and Beth Marzoni, both visiting instructors.
Griffin opened the event with a few words about the evening and introduced the first speaker, Dr. Andy Mozina, chair of the department, who read an excerpt from his fictional piece, “My Non-Sexual Affair.” Mozina drew laughs from the student crowd with a description of his non-sexual love affair with a woman named Linda, which he comes to realize is just a special friendship.
Marin Heinritz, Glenn Deutsch, Amelia Katanski, Babli Sinha, Bruce Mills and Amy Rodgers read excerpts from current works of non-fiction. Sinha's conference paper analyzing the role of Indian women in modern media and technology stood out among the other readings that were, in contrast to hers, very representative of her colleagues' personalities and experiences.
Deutsch read a piece about his vulgar father, Melvin, “wanting to be a red neck but being from Brooklyn,” as narrated by a 14 year-old Deutsch in 1969. Katanski spoke about her uncle’s life, which she connected to the four noble truths of Buddhism, and Heinritz read an excerpt from the coming-of-age memoir about her defeat of cancer at 17, highlighting her mother’s character with great expression.
Diane Seuss, the College’s writer-in-residence, read from her next collection, a response to an article in the New Yorker about William Burroughs called “I Dreamed I Met William Burroughs.” Seuss’s response, “It Wasn’t a Dream I Knew William Burroughs,” was a graphic and humorous illustration of porn and heroine, tuna fish sandwich cravings during pregnancy, and “condescending assholes” which served to expose her counter belief that Burroughs, an addict, was a poor influence on everyone including her boyfriend. She read a second piece called “Birthday Confessions”, written as a series of confessions to a priest, which drew chronic laughter from the audience.
Rodgers, a Shakespeare and film expert, comes to the College passionate to teach drama. She is currently working on a play about Robert Frost’s son Carol, who committed suicide in 1940. Marzoni’s work focuses on contemporary poetry and creative writing. Her poem, “Rothko’s Room”, was inspired by an exhibition by artist Mark Rothko at the Tate Modern Art Museum in London.
Griffin has been at work on a novel about the murder-suicide that occurred on campus ten years ago. She read from the last chapter which illustrates the aftermath of the deaths of students Maggie Wardle and Neenef Odah. Griffin’s desire to tell the story of their deaths extends beyond her novel; every October, Griffin joins Wardle’s family and K students in Stetson Chapel to reflect as a community.
Mills ended the event with a reading from a book of essays about his son Jacob’s autism, “An Archaeology of Yearning,” in which he explains his conflicting desires and the ability to fill gaps through language.
It’s not often K College professors have the opportunity to read personal works of literature for a group of 80 students to hear. This event served as a reminder that students aren’t the only ones who have a vulnerable side for others to see.
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