Loving the Problematic

I am, as you probably know by now, a consumer of media. I devour books, I mass watch TV shows, I obsess about things that “aren’t real”. This means I’ve read and watched a lot of good things in my time, but it also means I’ve encountered a lot of shit things too. Especially because, no matter how crappy something is, I will usually finish it. I persevered, for example, with four whole seasons of Smallville before final giving it up in frustration. I read the entire Twilight series in the vain hope that the writing might get better, or perhaps that the damage it was causing to my brain might lower my expectations.

As you also know from my ranting, and my overanalysis of such media, I am a feminist, and I believe in equality of all people regardless of race, culture, gender identity or sexuality. Unfortunately, most of the media I consume does not think like this. Most of the media I consume believes that “sex sells”, that putting women in revealing outfits means they are just “giving the people what they want”, that gay guys are funny, that Asian people all sound the same, that white, middle class, athletic American dudes are the “everyman” that we can all identify with. In short, media is a bit shit. Books are a bit shit. Stuff I enjoy is a bit shit.

So how can I justify this to myself? Well… by writing a blog about it and trying to make it ok, I guess is one way to look at it. The answer is, I can’t really. It’s important to me that I recognise that the last scene in the most recent Game of Thrones season has a problematic depiction of people of colour, that Sherlock doesn’t pass the Bechdel Test, that Cho Chang from Harry Potter has a name that is actually two last names from the wrong culture. It’s important for me to register those things in my brain. And it’s important for me to discuss these things with other people, to talk about why they are problematic, to write blogs about them, because I think those are discussions worth having.

And yet… I still enjoy the books and TV that contain these problematic elements. How can that be? How can I reconcile myself with these things? Sometimes I worry it makes me a bad feminist or even just a bad person to consume some of the media I consume. Doctor Who for example, is pretty much all out hated by feminists these days. And I can, for the most part, understand why. But I don’t hate it. Yes I groan at certain parts, yes it shits me at times, but I still watch and enjoy it. It’s still a really good show. I like it for all the things that don’t shit me, for the amazing stories, for the silliness, for the drama, the music and the sets. I like it for Clara and for River and for Rory and for history and aliens.

Probably my worst crime of the problematic at the moment is Supernatural. I just marathoned all eight seasons of that thing. And holy freaking shit it’s the most misogynistic piece of crap I’ve watched in a long time. Women are killed every few minutes, one of the main characters uses the words, “bitch”, “whore”, “slut” etc. to describe pretty much every woman they come into contact with, and the series of sexual encounters of both Dean and Sam are described like conquests all the time. But I still liked the show. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I’m not even sure. Yes, I would definitely enjoy it more if I didn’t spend large portions of the viewing experience with my fists on my forehead in what I like to call the “god damn it misogyny!” pose, but I didn’t hate the show. It has action and fighting and comedy and good characters and ghosts and vampires and angels and increasingly, Felicia Day. I am in fact looking forward to the 9^th season.

So what am I saying? I guess… that we live in a problematic world, and our media reflects this? It’s nigh on impossible to find a book, TV show, movie, comic etc. that doesn’t have problematic elements. It doesn’t mean we should accept it as “normal”, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be angry, or frustrated, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have discussions about how the things we love could be better but it doesn’t mean we can’t love those problematic things. In fact, I would argue that loving these things means there’s a better chance of them getting better.

I think there’s something to be said for being a discerning audience member, an involved reader. Watch and read what you like, but do so cleverly, do so with nous. Because it’s intelligent discussion and discerning analysis that bring about change, just as much as revolution and boycott. If something offends you, switch it off, if you want, but if something is problematic but still enjoyable, keep watching. Register the problematic elements, talk about them, blog about them, write to the writers, make a video. Say “I love ______, but it worries me that the following things keep happening”. The show runners and writers aren’t going to change their product for the people who turn it off; they are going to change it for the people who keep watching, for the people who keep reading…. For us. 

The "Goddamn it Misogyny!" face, copyright L. King 2013

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's an Overanalysis of Man of Steel!

So today’s blog is about Man of Steel. It doesn’t contain spoilers, as such, but if you haven’t seen it and you want to go in without my opinions bouncing around your head, maybe save reading this for later. Alternatively, my opinions are pretty good, so definitely take that into consideration.

The problem with overanalysing this film is that I decided to do so ten minutes into it, and also I’ve only seen it once. When I did Mulan last week, I stopped and started it, took screenshots, and wrote notes. Not having that luxury yesterday, I mostly spent the film leaning over to Boyfriend and making “witty” comments in an attempt to remember them. I’m sure this really enhanced his viewing experience. It certainly improved mine.

Here’s what you need to know about Man of Steel: it’s not a Superman movie. “Oh but Lizzy!” you cry, “I’ve seen the trailer, I’ve seen the poster, it has a dude in blue and red punching the air while flying. He has a cape. I know what is what.” Yeah, well, sure it has Superman themes and ideas but because the film focuses on Superman’s origin story, it’s actually an alien movie. More than that, it’s an alien invasion movie. . It follows a bunch of the same tropes as other alien invasion films, the first act of the movie is set on Krypton and there’s a bunch of dudes in suits talking about the importance of protecting earth. I love alien movies that are set in America. They always vaguely reference how other countries react (usually in front of well-known landmarks), but it still comes down to the CIA or FBI to sort that shit out.

...and this guy

The aliens look exactly like humans, except they have cooler clothes. Kryptonians are big on skintight suits and armour, and after seeing the film; I must admit I’m a convert. What a badass way to dress. We should all incorporate a little more armour into our wardrobes. But I’m less inclined to adopt their architecture… the major theme of which is genitalia. I know I’m not alone in thinking this because Boyfriend definitely nodded at one point when I whispered “are they living in a giant penis?” And when a bunch of Kryptonians got incarcerated in sarcophagi-like things, Boyfriend said, “You’ve been sentenced to dildo prison, sorry”. Given that a large part of the film is about how babies are made, and (SPOILERS, select to read) how great it would be to make them on the ashes of earth, the phalluses are more than a little off putting.

                                                                             

Now, I must come clean here and say that my Superman knowledge is limited. In fact, all of it comes from the TV show Smallville (please, don’t judge me). Perhaps I’m not the best person for this job, but hey, I’m the boss at Hum Drum Plum and I just seemed like I had a good head on my shoulders, I gave me a shot despite my initial misgivings. My Smallville watching did prep me for noticing the little references to the Superman source material. I particularly enjoyed that lots of trucks and buildings are branded with “LexCorp”. Also Clark lives in a town called Smallville and the nearby city is called Metropolis. Look, I understand the metaphorical nature of these place names but they are kind of awkward in the context of serious film called Man of Steel.

but 100% fine on the show that thought this was a good promo image

Speaking of Metropolis, you know that scene in The Avengers where they fight in New York? It’s a great, action packed ending but I spent most of it being distracted by the overwhelming concern that they were breaking New York. Yeah, well if you felt anything similar while watching that film, be prepared to be weeping for humanity as you watch Man of Steel. Sure, Metropolis is a metaphor for some other city (not New York, as Boyfriend reliably informed me, Gotham is New York), but they BREAK IT INTO A THOUSAND PIECES. I don’t think it’s spoilers to say that the day gets saved (it’s a Superman/alien film after all), but an entire city gets smashed up in order to do it. What are the repercussions of this? The American economy would be significantly effected, hundreds of thousands of people would be refugees, there’d be disease, crime, looting. How could they begin to rebuild? Would Clark Kent be held accountable? Where the hell is the Daily Planet situated now given that the entire city just burnt to the ground? These are the important questions people. I have no doubt there will be a sequel, and I really hope that the writers and directors endeavour to answer my questions in due time. I am confident they read my blog religiously.

What did you think about Man of Steel? Got some shit to say? I am happy to provide you with a platform to do so here in the comments, on facebook and on twitter. Get involved!

The Future

We enter through shiny silver doors and wait in a cramped box. Coloured buttons and lights blink on the wall. The box ascends, and comes to a halt. The doors glide open to reveal a busy, bustling place of white. White lights illuminate white walls and white tiles. Music blares from every corner. The beats conflict and the tunes clash. Clothes, make-up, perfumes, handbags… all can be purchased here from almost identical young women. Faceless, alien-like mannequins holding awkward poses display brightly coloured shoes and tiny dresses. One wears nothing but a hat and a single glove.

Dahrrrrling

We push our way through the throngs of people. Everywhere we look, signs tell us inexplicable things. Words about beauty and fashion, dad scents, points to be won. Is it some kind of competition? We make it to the doors and into an even grander and more confusing place. A hall filled with tables, food and people. Holes in the wall sell any kind of food you could want, from every place in the world. TV screens show images of India, China, Japan – “take your tastebuds on a tour of Asia!” Colours clash, lights flash and thousands of people cram themselves in tiny chairs to eat with hands, forks and chopsticks.

Here, a man with dreadlocks to his waist, there a woman in a dress that would shame the mannequins. In front of us a little girl squeals in delight at the distant sight of a shop that sells pencils in the shape of animals. A teenaged boy giggles with his boyfriend. A family sits down to a banquet of noodle dishes in cardboard bowls. All the while, glass containers move up and down the walls, ferrying people to more levels of shopping, other levels of wonder.

About 2 years ago, it started being the future, and none of us noticed. The scene I’ve just described could be from Doctor Who, but it’s from a shopping centre in Brisbane, Australia. All it took was 6 months away from this sort of place for me to notice: our shops look like something out of a film. And I’m not talking about old films that laughably tried to predict what life with flying cars might be like, I’m talking about films we watch every day. The glittering futures from our movies look exactly like the glittering present from our reality.

On the drive home from Brisbane yesterday, I downloaded an album of music to my phone. And even though we drove for 3 hours through nothing but fields and trees and cows, we were still able to listen to that whole album before we got home. I did not own that music when we got in the car, but I did by the time we got to Toowoomba. That is wizardry.

Even out in the country, it is the future. Farmers do their business online as much as they do it in the fields. Everyone knows that if you can’t buy it in town, you can have it mailed to you within a couple of days simply by clicking a few buttons on your phone. Meanwhile, Boyfriend and I are in a virtual band that we access via a gaming console in our living room. He’s lead guitar, I’m on drums: we’re doing a festival tour of America. When we’re not rocking, I’m an Assassin in Ancient Italy and he’s Batman, so that’s pretty fun too.

Today I hung out with seven awesome friends in my backyard. Two of them were in Brisbane, another in Canberra, one was in Hobart and the rest are in Newcastle. A dog barking in Newcastle made the ears of my neighbour’s dog prick up. So next time I’m whingeing that my wifi dropped out, or I’m an idiot for accidentally wiping the last 6 months’ worth of stuff off my iPhone (such a fail), I’m going to remind myself that I live in an age of fantastic, bizarre magic. And hopefully take comfort from that, while I rage and moan.

We take the future for granted, and that’s what makes it the future.