Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Reality Bites

Recent news about the status of gays in this country can be chilling to say the least. These stories range from the frustratingly absurd, like Republicans blocking the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” to the heartbreaking, including revelations of torment and bulling in individual lives. In the midst of these stories, the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) recently reported that the number of fictional gays and lesbians being represented on scripted television increased slightly (up to a still paltry 3.9 percent of all characters from the previous year’s 2.6). It draws into question, if there are more images of queer folk on television than ever before, how does this reconcile with the lack of GLBTQ equality in the United States?

Certainly I do marvel at how much attitudes have changed since I first came out in the early nineties. At the time, the best one could hope for on television was a “very special” episode where a never-before-seen friend reveals that he or she is gay to the protagonist. The rest of those stories tend to be devoted to watching how that central character came to terms with the revelation. While these types of episodes did usually have a core message about “tolerance,” they more often served to emphasize just how “charitable” the main character was deep down. Once established, we would never see or hear mention of that gay friend ever again.

By the early nineties, fledgling attempts at “reality” television marked a sudden departure in representations of gay people. MTV’s The Real World and other similar shows began to show gay people with actual lives and concerns themselves, often times that had little to do with the straight people who surrounded them. This opened the flood gates to making at least one gay person de rigueur for any new reality program. Scripted television has likewise come along a bit in terms of adding gay men and lesbians as supporting characters. Yet, those shows tend to only make queer people accessible if they are white and safely locked in suburbia (That, though, is another blog post entirely). Despite these changes, “reality” television (which is usually anything but its namesake) remains the touchstone for gay representation. We would do well well to consider some recent forms of this entertainment.



My students these days have never known an era of television without gay and lesbian representations (transgender people, on the other hand, remain almost totally invisible – But that is a subject for another post). It is jarring to me when they mention that Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (which I still tend to think of as “new”) was something that they enjoyed while in middle school. If Queer Eye represented a type of breakthrough in terms of the number of gay people in any given show, it also set the stage for remaking reality representations of those same people. Gone were the notions that GLBTQ people had independent lives that were worth learning about for their own sake. Instead, we found that reality television had come to depend upon representing our community (particularly gay men) as having value only in as much as they either entertained or served straight people. The show avoided delving into any of the leads actual lives and instead defined them by the job they performed for a socially inept straight man. In the end, I suppose it was better to help dress a straight man than be beat up by one.



Over the summer, a number of new and noteworthy reality shows launched featuring gay men and lesbians as the central stars. Each owes more than a little debt to Queer Eye. The producers of these new shows clearly sought to attract both a core queer audience as well as a more mainstream hetero viewership. They walk a tightrope between providing representations of gays who appeal to insider camp sensibilities while making sure that they also don’t threaten the hetero status quo.

On the Road with Austin and Santino reconciles those seemingly contradictory goals perfectly. The show centers on two former reality show contestants on a cross-country road trip together. Personally, I have adored the titular Austin Scarlett since he captured my imagination during the first season of Project Runway. Scarlett proved his talents by crafting impeccable fashion, including a memorable dress made out of corn-husks. I always felt that he was robbed of his spot in the final three (seemingly because the producers wanted a contestant who would provide more backstage drama). Aside from his glamorous persona, Project Runway highlighted his strong work ethic. While other designers went out drinking, Scarlett puritanically stayed in his hotel room to be well rested for the next day’s work. He also expressed a self-awareness that his nonconformity would provide inspiration to younger viewers who might be feeling harassed. I like that.




In his new program, Scarlett joined with his real-life friend Santino Rice for a Greek-inspired odyssey across the United States. Along the way, they stop in small towns, locate a specific heterosexual woman who needs a fashionable frock, and, after an appropriate amount of assurances that she truly “deserves” their services, they present the teary-eyed woman with the fruits of their labor. All in all, it is a pretty formulaic make-over show. To distinguish itself, the show looks to wring humor out of the notion that Austin and Santino are “fish out of water” in the small towns that they visit. In addition to the dress making, Austin and Santino frequently participate in the town’s local activities (like riding horses, fishing, or babysitting). The show implicitly juxtaposes Austin and Santino’s dilated personas against the austere town folk who surround them. Executive producer Rich Bye has commented on the reactions that some town people have had, noting “They would have been less surprised if an alien beamed into their store. They just kept staring. They didn't say a word.”



The show thereby makes gayness something that is always removed or set outside of the supposedly heterosexual towns that they visit. If Austin and Santino arrive to temporarily add some glamour and urbanity to the dull grey towns that they visit, then the town is also assured that they will just as quickly exit so that things will return to “normal.” Any hint that Austin or Santino might challenge local views of queer sexuality are avoided.

Many of the episodes center on the two preparing a dress for either a wedding or an anniversary. In an era where marriage equality dominates political discussions about queer life, it is striking that neither Austin nor Santino ever note the inability of gay men to celebrate comparable milestones legally. Instead, they happily work away to satisfy the needs of their heterosexual clients without complaint. While we occasional get hints of the affection the two have for each other, we also never learn much about their own romantic interests or ambitions. The show implicitly subjugates queer desires in order to highlight the supposedly more valuable heterosexual relationships on the show.

Perhaps I can come to understand why Lifetime, a network that started by targeting an audience of [heterosexual] women, would create such a representation of gay men. But the gay network Logo’s decisions about Rupaul’s Drag University leave me almost entirely baffled. I have previously written that I am a fan of RuPaul’s Drag Race. That show excelled because it presented an impressively diverse cast that reflected a wide range of drag performers (even if I remain concerned that the show also discriminates against contestants with non-English accents). So when Logo announced Drag University as the new companion series, I expected that it would center on established drag queens mentoring young gay men who desired a career in drag. Wrong!



The show actually focuses on “biological” women being tutored by the established drag queens. Prof. Susurro has an excellent assessment of the show’s positives. I agree with her totally (after all, she starts and ends the post by agreeing with me). The show does provide an unusual opportunity to see mostly working class women claiming the spotlight. In good Judith-Butler fashion, the show also utilizes drag as a means to highlight how all gender roles are artifices that can be manipulated at will (regardless of the anatomy of the performer). It also provides a strong emphasis on claiming femininity as a source of power. "Ultimately, DragU is a comedic send up of a genre I find largely detrimental to both the female viewers and female participants," Prof. Susurro notes, "While it is nothing deeper or more meaningful than light entertainment, it does it with the kind of diversity and attention to people’s needs that rings decidedly hollow in shows that claim to take these things seriously." All of that is great for me.

At the same time, though, the show also makes the drag queens into little more than exposition for the straight women’s transformations. Much attention is given to the straight women’s ambitions and personal relationships (I am also more than a bit disturbed by how many of the contestants report that they are participating in the show to please their man rather than for their own enjoyment, but that is another entry entirely). The drag queens, meanwhile, apparently have no lives outside of the work room. They are given only enough airtime to sprinkle the screen with glitter and sassy one-liners before literally being cast to the sidelines while straight women take over the stage.

The phenomena of queer helpers improving the lives of deserving heteros isn’t the exclusive territory of gay men, either. Out-lesbian trainer Jackie Warner has been given a new reality program on the network Bravo. In place of her first show, which emphasized Warner’s grappling with personal and professional commitments, the new show relegates Warner to the sidelines as she trains a group of straight women and men (and one gay man, who is set up as the comic relief on the program) to lose some weight. Warner acts as a combination of therapist and cheerleader to the show’s central figures.



Shows like Austin and Santino, Drag U, and Warner’s program suggest the compromises that have been made to get queer representation onto reality television. Queer people are acknowledged as important members of society, but only to the extent that they can provide valuable services to the dominant heterosexual community. Any explicit desires for civic and social equality are muted in favor of a narrative of mutual cooperation and humorous shenanigans. Queer people become hetero helpers, monitoring their fashion sense and opening the gates to their own happiness.



Maybe the only summer reality program that sought a more balanced view of queer life appeared on the obscure network Planet Green. The Fabulous Beekman Boys charts the foibles of two elite New York gay men who purchase a rural farm. The show’s link to the network’s supposed environmental message is tenuous at best. Nonetheless, of the new queer reality programs Beekman manages to show queer figures as a bit more complex and multifaceted than the others (even if its cast is exclusively white). This includes the two leads, Brent and Josh, (whose bickering defines the show), a gay goat herder (who is really attached to his charges) and another gay couple (who own the local hotel), along with a number of straight people who surround the life on the farm. Beekman allows [white] gay men to be the actual story of the reality program rather than as a plot device.

Even here, though, the show could not resist putting the queer figures into the service of hetero hegemony. One episode focuses on a straight couple using the farm as the site of their wedding. We mostly see Brent’s devoted efforts to preparing the event and insuring its perfection. Unlike the other reality programs, which tend to pretend that marriage is not a political issue, at least Beekman included commentary by Josh that noted his inability to have his relationship to Josh legally sanctioned. The two had pledged that the first wedding on the farm would be theirs, but apparently Brent sorta forgot about that when he saw the size of the bride’s deposit check. In the end, even Josh set aside his political position and came to the aid of the happy straight couple. Queer people might be treated like second-class citizens, but that doesn't mean we aren't gracious hosts.



It’s hard to consider whether these queer images represent actual real people or clownish characters who spend every waking moment wondering how they can spruce up previously depressing heterosexual enclaves. I grant that it is a type of improvement after decades of media images that presented queer sexuality as something to fear and destroy. If the trade off for my sexuality not landing me in jail or sent for electroshock therapy is being forced to sew couture, then hand me that bobbin. Nonetheless, these images also tend to present queer people as frivolous and less fully human than their hetero counterparts. These shows subsume their stories, political needs, and personal desires (including, ironically, their sexual desires given that their sexuality defines their roles on these shows). Instead queer people have been relegated to being decorators and decorative objects for heterosexual escapist fantasies.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

I Wonder If It Will Involve Life Day

George Lucas announced recently that he is designing a live-action television show based in the Star Wars universe. My first reaction was excitement. Then I remembered that the last 3.5 movies from the Star Wars universe have been dreadful. I mean, the first hour of Return of the Jedi was fine. Once the Ewoks appeared on the screen, though, it was all down hill. Nothing has gone right since. Don’t even get me started on 2005's Revenge of the Sith. That was so terrible that I can still taste the suck.

Alas, you know that I will at least tune into the first episode to see if maybe (against the odds) the Star Wars franchise can still capture my imagination as it did some twenty years ago. I had so many of the Star Wars toys, I think that I am personally responsible for a hole in the ozone the appeared above the Kenner toy factory.

Lucas, however, is being a bit cagey about the details of the show. He won’t discuss time period, plot, or characters.

Of course, this just begs speculation. I can only imagine that the new Star Wars television program will be based on one of the following options:

    * It will be a new show on the Food Network. Hosted by the Sarlacc, it will be entitled Thousand-Year Meals.

    * The show will start when R2-D2 and C-3P0 overthrow their cruel human masters in a bloody revolution. They then convert Darth Vader into a full droid to free him from his “human bondage.”

    * The show will start when R2-D2 and C-3P0 overthrow their cruel heterosexist masters in a queer revolution. They then convert Darth Vader into their love slave by showing him the pleasures of bondage.

    * Queen Amidala will host a new style program on Bravo, sponsored by Maybelline cosmetics. She will give fabulous hair and makeup tips entitled Easy, Breezy, Kabuki.



    * The show will take place about twenty years after the destruction of the second Death Star. Princess Leia and Han Solo will have two adult children: a son, who does not have the force, and a daughter, who does have the force. The twenty-something kids both move to Los Angeles to work in a television station. Hilarity ensues week after week when big brother tries to prevent sis from using her magical powers to woo her mortal boss into marriage.

    * Bea Arthur will play an intergalactic barmaid. The show might be in jeopardy, though, when Peggy Lee’s estate sues Arthur for stealing her shtick.



    * In Star Wars: Miami, General Veers and his elite group of troopers must conduct the Emperor’s bidding in the exotic Florida locale. It’s an unending battle against drugs, corruption, and sunshine for Veers and his team.

    * It’s a reality competition show where contestants must – Oh, I don’t know -- cook stuff – or maybe sew something. The winner gets $25,000 and an apprenticeship with Lucas Arts. The losers are choked to death by Darth Vader’s strange mental powers.

    * The show will follow the exploits of Luke Skywalker and his cousin, Bo, as they evade Stormtroopers and Boss Jabba in their 1969 Dodge Charger.

    * Lando Calrissian (played by Billie Dee Williams) and Bail Organa (played by Jimmy Smits) decide that they are tired of the Star Wars universe’s racist shit. Together, they unite all people of color into a radical revolution that makes the Rebel Alliance seem like a child's tea party.

    * If not the above, Jimmy Smits will find any excuse to appear as Bail Organa to rescue him from the dreadful television show Cain.

    * The show will follow Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker’s unhappy journey through many, many years of therapy to recover from their incestuous love affair.

    * The show will focus on the period immediately after Anakin Skywalker’s lifesaving transformation into Darth Vader. The Empire saved him by replacing his legs and arm with mechanical parts. They had the technology to rebuild him – Better. Stronger. Faster. To pay off the hefty price tag (some say upward of $6 million), Vader must solve crimes and report regularly to Commodore Oscar Goldman.

    * After the death of Anakin, Amidala decides to take her daughter and move in with her mother-in-law in San Francisco. Not accustomed to working, the spoiled Amidala finds it hard to fit-in at her first job as a photographer’s assistant.

    * The show will follow the untold life and loves of R5-D4.



    * The show will place Jawas into contemporary New York. Audiences will soon grow weary when they realize that it is just an extended advertisement for auto insurance.

    * Each week, Carrie Fisher will watch a different scene from the original three movies and discuss which drug(s) she was high on during its filming.



    * Each week, George Lucas will watch a different scene from the last three movies and discuss which drug(s) he was high on during its filming.

    * After the fall of the Empire, the show will follow a Star Destroyer (the Aldaraan Princess) that has been re-commissioned as a cruise ship. Each week, a collection of colorful guest stars will come aboard and find romance.

    * Lynda Carter will play a super-powered agent who fights on behalf of the Rebel Alliance. She will have a magic lasso that compels people to obey her and bracelets that deflect laser pulses. Hey, I can day-dream.

    * Audience members will be allowed to hunt Ewoks for sport. It will be the highest rated television show in history.

    * Princess Leia decides to finally leave Han Solo when he still won’t propose marriage after several years of dating. She moves to Minneapolis to start her life over and goes to work for a newsroom. She also befriends her kooky upstairs neighbor, a Twil’ek dancer named Oola. Princess Leia finds that she might just make it after all.

    * The show will be merely hours and hours of entitled fan boys complaining about how Lucas ruined Star Wars. It will be a hard-hitting look into some very lonely lives.

    * Leia and Han Solo decide to move into together. They only discover later that their landlord is really Leia’s father, Darth Vader. It's an awkward comedy where three's a crowd!

    * Undeterred by the public’s vocal and consistent hatred of the character, Lucas casts Jar-Jar Binks as the star of a new sitcom. With the dawn of the empire, Jar-Jar finds employment as a maid on Coruscant's Upper East Side. While he bakes pies and scrubs floors, Binks is also quick to give a spoonful of his homespun, though simple, wisdom to his white imperial overlords.

    * The show will unwisely resurrect the Mallatobuck, Attichitcuk, and Lumpawarrump, characters first introduced in the cringe-inducing 1978 Holiday Special. The tag-line for the show will be “Twice as furry, but with three times the love.” In reality, it will just involve an hour of quasi-human, quasi-ape men with too much makeup standing around grunting for an hour. Imagine it as another version of Fox News.



    * The Star Wars Variety Hour will feature a “two-in-one” premise. After the destruction of the second Death Star, the Emperor is given the chance to host a variety program for ABC television. The show will be one part "behind-the-scenes" and the other part "variety." The Emperor takes up residence on the beach, frequently performs in sketches on the show, and is always accompanied by the famed Royal Guard Dancers.

    * Much to the relief of the entire audience, Queen Amidala awakes to find Anakin Skywalker in the shower. It turns out that all three of the most recent movies were just a terrible, terrible dream.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Starter? I Don't Even Know Her.

When I visited New York a few weeks ago, I could not enter a subway station or pass a bus without seeing Debra Messing’s smiling face pushing the television series The Starter Wife. Given that I teach classes on representations of gender and sexuality in the mainstream media, I consider it part of my job description to watch such media ploys. Hey – It’s dirty work, but somebody has to do it.

The massive publicity campaign (which began sometime in January) led me to expect that The Starter Wife would be a bit more, um, good. The promos implied that the program would consider the travails of marriage, divorce, and aging among women in this society. Okay – Maybe I had too lofty of expectations. At the very least, though, I expected some sort of vicarious revenge narrative involving a wronged spouse making her lying man come to terms. Instead, The Starter Wife managed to disempower just about everybody.

Perhaps its main problem was that it offered a remarkably unsympathetic heroine and a cadre of flat supporting characters. As the title implies, Molly, played by Debra Messing, finds out that her movie-executive husband has dumped her for a young starlet. Rather than being emotionally destroyed by his deceptions or heartbreak, Molly is mostly concerned about how it will impact her social standing. Indeed, she spends little, if any, time considering the demise of the actual marriage. While we are clearly supposed to hate her sleazy ex, we aren’t really given any indication that Molly ever thought of him as anything more than a means to her own ambition. Instead, Molly mourns that she can no longer attend the posh clubs or swank parties.

As a result, her liberation does not come through a rejection of the sexist Hollywood expectations that demanded physical perfection or slavish women (or through the lighting of her ex’s truck on fire (which I would have personally liked to see)). Instead, her alleged liberation comes through committing herself to even more self-indulgence. In one scene, Molly takes “revenge” on the Hollywood wives who snubbed her by becoming the arm-candy for another, more powerful, man. Yeah, there’s a feminist message that we can all get behind.

The Starter Wife acknowledges that society is built on a sexist patriarchy that keeps women in vulnerable and unfair positions. Molly’s ex husband, Kenny, personifies the worst stereotypes of heterosexual men. He is self-indulgent, sexist, cheats on his wife, and demeans all the women around him by making them do the most menial tasks imaginable. Yet, The Starter Wife also implies that sexist patriarchy is the only option out there and the only possible way that society could be organized. When men treat you like garbage, the show says, simply find another, more powerful man. Kate Millet would be so proud.



Given this message, it’s no surprise that Pond’s cosmetics sponsored this train-wreck of a series. Indeed, Molly spends a serious amount of film time in her bathroom engaged in methodical cleansing rituals that involve prominent Pond’s products. The message of “empowerment” is not a rejection of youth and beauty. Instead, it’s that older women need to fight to stay looking young and beautiful. There is hope for older women, but only if they slather their face with a jar of Time Rewind© night cream.

Surrounding Molly are a crew of totally cardboard characters. Judy Davis appears as a friend named “Joan.” Really, though, Davis seems to be confused and apparently thinks that she is still playing Judy Garland. Joan drinks, makes a bitchy comment to Liza Molly, and returns to drinking some more.



Molly does get to show her magnanimity through a set of homeless characters. In one case, The Starter Wife makes a clumsy stab at racial diversity when Molly allows Lavender, the African-American security guard for Molly’s gated-housing complex, to move into her house. This sassy ghetto-girl might have the name of a stripper, but she has a heart of gold. Lavender lost her apartment when her mother refused to get rid of her yapping dog. Thanks to Molly, though, Lavender avoids homelessness and can keep attending UCLA. Well, as long as her mother agrees to clean Molly's house. Through the gentle generosity of white women like Molly, Lavender will eventually be a credit to her people. Hey, Starter Wife, welcome to the year 1935!



If that version of homelessness/economic-class-dynamics didn’t appear problematic enough, the miniseries includes the absurd character Sam. Repenting for his sin of drunk driving, Sam willingly chose to be homeless many years before meeting Molly. Yes – There is a character who has repudiated shelter from the elements. According to The Starter Wife, being homeless can be downright glamorous! Sam spends his days wandering around Malibu’s beaches without his shirt and sleeping with bored housewives. When he and Molly have sex in his "sleeping space," it looks a lot like an ad for Bombay Company.



Characters like Lavender and Sam make light of real economic injustice in this nation. In both instances, it was the personal choices of Lavender (refusing to toss the dog to the pound) and Sam (his desire for penance) that left them without a domicile. They weren’t homeless because of a crushing economic system, lack of health or psychiatric care, or even bad luck. Nope – They chose their fate.

Yet, even with Sam and Lavender’s poor choices, the wealth will trickle down just as Ronnie Reagan promised many years ago. Rather than pointing to the grotesque disparity between the rich (and exclusively white) people dominating Molly’s world and the nation’s poor, The Starter Wife gives hope that the wealthy will save the downtrodden. Indeed, helping the homeless is a little like hosting a slumber party for Molly.

Perhaps the most disappointing character of all, though, is Molly’s BFF: Rodney. The show’s official web-site describes Rodney as “Molly's dashing, loyal friend and gay interior decorator extraordinaire,” Consider him a cross between a golden retriever and Dorothy Draper.

Rodney puts a not-so-thick retread on some pretty worn-out stereotypes. I’ll pass on commenting on the obvious (“interior decorator extraordinaire”) and move directly to how Rodney is the new clichéd representation of gay men in film.

Increasingly, gay men exist in film and television as accessories for straight women characters. Unlike many real-life gay men who have strong and equitable friendships with straight women (including myself), the relationships depicted in films like The Starter Wife are decidedly one-sided. Gay men exist in these fictional friendships as selfless (though fussy) caretakers for their hetero gal pals. Rodney provides snappy zingers and expert advice on selecting shoes. He gives a shoulder for Molly’s ever plentiful tears (They, sob!, canceled her spa membership!). Characters like Rodney aren’t there to be real humans. Instead, they are presented as a means to show that the female character is both “hip” and “generous” enough to have a gay man as a friend. They are just mirrors to reflect the straight women’s coolness, wipe away their mascara stains, and highlight their heterosexual desirability.

Most times, gay characters like Rodney aren't even given much dialog. The director usually just tells that actor playing the gay best friend to stand in the corner while the rest of the cast talks about how gay he is. Unless, of course, he happens to be a good-looking actor. Then he will stand in the corner while the rest of the cast talk about what a shame it is that he is gay.



To their credit, the writers did attempt to give Rodney a slight side-story of romantic interest. That’s more than most gay men get on television (Think Debra Messing’s other series). Even if Rodney is allowed a romantic subplot, you get the distinct sense that the writers had no idea what happens when two men date each other. One can imagine the meeting in the writers’ room. “Well,” they would say, “What do gay men think is romantic?” “I don’t know,” another says, “How about criminal stalking?” “Yeah, that’s probably what they do. Let’s go with that. Write it up.”

So, even though Rodney makes it clear that he was not romantically interested in the guy, his accountant lurks around his house, secretly leaves him baked goods on his door, and shows up at his house uninvited (with dinner!). In the last episode, the accountant planned a weekend getaway together with Rodney without, you know, actually asking Rodney if it is okay. According to the show, Rodney seemingly sees this as taking charge and endearing.

Let me tell you, if a guy who I paid to balance my checkbook suddenly showed up at my door with a bag of groceries or booked plane reservations for the two of us without asking me, I would not consider that a romantic gesture. I would consider it a reason to put the police on speed-dial. Healthy gay dating doesn’t start with stalking – unless you are into that. I don’t judge.

Of course, Rodney is also portrayed by a self-identified straight actor. Hollywood still gets a kick out of a straight guy pretending to be gay. Actually, they seem to feel better knowing that the actor is just “pretending” and underneath he is pure heterosexual. A gay man portraying a gay male character apparently isn’t acting at all (because all gay men are basically the same – to be one is to know us all). And we all know that a gay male actor couldn’t possibly portray a straight man.

See – This is why I think Hollywood doesn’t have a clue about how superior gay men are as actors. What do straight actors do when they portray gay men? Well, usually they make lots of kissy noises, adopt a lisp, and add some type of flailing arm gestures. Then they call it a day.



Gay men often spend years studying how to pretend to be a straight man before they come out of the closet. Heck, I deserve an Academy Award for grades 8-10 alone. Because of this, we are also much more authoritative judges on who is portraying a gender that seems authentic to the character.

The Starter Wife ad campaign promised an escapist fantasy and quirky satire. Sadly, it just suggests how little television has advanced in terms of gender and sexuality in the last twenty years. The Starter Wife, in the end, is a not-very-interesting clone of Jackie Collins’ Hollywood Wives.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

But Will You Still Love Me?

Some bloggers take themselves very seriously. For them, it becomes all about accumulating numbers and more and more comments (Okay, we all live for the comments, don’t we?). Some blogs, though, reach a point where the quest for numbers means that they post more and more. Yet, they provide less and less of what originally caught our attention in the first place (e.g. critical thinking, humor, thoughtful analysis, ass shots (depending on the blog)). Most don’t go down this road – but some lose sight of why they started blogging in the first place.

A few also develop a serious attitude. Unless you figured out a way to make your livelihood through blogging, it’s just not that deep.

Even the most popular blogs don’t have a fraction of the readers as the least popular television show has viewers. That’s right. More people in this nation could tell you what happened in NBC’s The Real Wedding Crashers than even know the meaning of the word “blog.”

If you have figured out how to make a livelihood from blogging, that’s cool. Shoot – If I thought that there was real money in this, my homepage would be PayPal. You’d need to enter your credit card number for every reference to the Mego Wonder Woman that came up. Most of us bloggers, though, aren’t adding an addendum to our tax forms because of our blogs.



Don’t get me wrong – This isn’t to say that I am knocking it. On the contrary, I really enjoy my time in the blogosphere. It’s a great place to try out ideas or swap some jokes. I have also met many cool people as a result.

Over the past week or so, though, I have felt a little tapped out for ideas. It got me to wondering about other blogs that have “jumped the shark.” You know the phrase -- The moment that a television show crossed an irretrievably bad threshold and went further and further downhill (such as Fonzie jumping a shark in an episode of Happy Days). Blogs must also have a similar life cycle.

Now I am not ready to believe it has happened to me yet. If any of the following occur, though, CoG will have officially jumped the shark:

    My nephew, ScrappyProf, starts contributing to the blog.

    I put out feelers in order to hire a blog tsar.

    Readers who meet GayProf in real life say things like, “I thought that you would be funnier/cooler/taller.”

    I wake up to find that my blog was all a dream.

    Most of the bloggers from my blog-roll call it quits and are never heard from again.

    I move back to Texas just so that I can keep making fun of the state. Oh, yeah -- I know that I am going to get more hate mail from Texans. Come on, people, it’s just a joke. I don’t have to live there to make fun of Texas.

    I stop drinking TaB.



    Somebody else is named the most desirable man on the blogosphere.

    If I turn heterosexual.

    People refer to new blogs as being “like The Center of Gravitas – only when it was good.”

    It's revealed that GayProf is the last of the 12 Cylons.

    Continued references to Liar Ex (Who Told Many Lies) make everybody uncomfortable.

    Nancy Reagan comes on the blog with a special message about saying "no" to drugs.

    Delusions keep me convinced that my identity is still anonymous.

    “Scat” becomes the number-one Google search that brings people to The Center of Gravitas (Thanks, Torn).

    Somewhere in the middle of the blog, GayProf is replaced by Dick Sargent.

    An entry about “jumping the shark” is less ironic and more just sad.

    I become the spokesperson for Jenny Craig.

    If I ever use the following words in an entry: fitty, sitch, or rotary. Or if I ever use the words “dingo” and “baby” in the same sentence.

    I am arrested for stalking Chris Evans -- again.


    Bush, Jr., says that he has confidence in me. That will be a clear sign that my blog sucks and I am a major fuck-up. If he ever develops a nickname for me, I am slitting my wrists.

    I make up a story about having sex with my UPS guy – hot, hot anonymous sex.

    The blog includes more and more YouTube content that seems totally unrelated to the entry’s topic.



    I decide to get married just so that I will have source material for the blog.

    Charlton Heston discovers that the Center of Gravitas is made out of people.

    I run out of Wonder Woman covers.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Smiles Everyone -- Smiles.

All Things Bitter recently had a little entry that had my mind awhirl with nostalgia. I decided that I would steal plagiarize borrow the idea. Actually, I think that he stole copied found inspiration from another site as well. Let’s just do what all bloggers do when they copy some other webpage for an entry: We’ll call it a meme.

In this case, we are thinking about the television theme songs and opening sequences that best encapsulated the show’s spirit. Over the past decade, networks have quietly phased out the theme song. This did not result in an extra thirty-seconds of television entertainment. Rather, they realized they could toss in one additional commercial per half-hour.

Most of my selections show me to be a child of the seventies. I became quite disturbed early in the year when I realized that the majority of television that I currently watch is at least twenty years old. (As an aside: I just now became disturbed to realize that when I say “early in the year,” I really mean September. For me, the academic calendar dictates my life-cycle rather than the Gregorian calender. New things start for me in September, not January. Perhaps that is another reason why I think January sucks).

Anyway, they don’t make them like they used to when it comes to opening titles. Let’s take a look at the title sequences that captured my imagination:

Wonder Woman



    We have to start with the obvious. Perhaps, though, the really die-hard CoG fans will be surprised at which title sequence that I selected. Sure, the first season’s lyrics “In your satin tights, fighting for your rights” have more emotional resonance than any Shakespearian sonnet.

    The title sequence that I remember most from my childhood, however, appeared in the middle of Season Two. The more disco-oriented song just felt streamlined. Besides, the image of Wonder Woman holding the two cars in place while the tires screech will forever be etched in my memory. Seriously, I might be riddled with Alzheimer’s and not remember my own name, but I’ll still be able to recall Wonder Woman’s grip on that orange truck and red car (Dodge Aspen?).

    Of course, I also just liked Wonder Woman better when they moved the show to the modern era. Instead of wearing the same old uniform week after week, Diana got to dress in designer clothes (and never in polyester, as she made clear in one episode). People around her also stopped pretending that Diana Prince was a homely slouch. I can suspend belief enough that people wouldn’t be able to recognize that Diana was really Wonder Woman simply because she tossed her hair into a bun and threw on some Lenscrafter specials. I can’t suspend belief, however, that anybody would ever imagine Lynda Carter as “plain.”


Hart to Hart



    After the collapse of Wonder Woman and the near collapse of Charlie’s Angels (we never discuss the Shelly-Hack era of that show), I needed some sort of action/mystery hour. The networks obliged by providing Hart to Hart. The opening credits neatly outlined the premise of the show. The couple’s butler discussed the basic traits of each character (this show also came on the air when I had a strange ambition to become a butler in my future life (don’t ask)).

    Besides Dallas, nobody could have conjured a more perfect show to usher in the eighties. Hart to Hart centered on wealth, glamor, conspicuous consumption, and sex (but within the confines of heterosexual marriage). It was sort of a cross between James Bond and Murder She Wrote, with maybe a little Horatio Alger tossed into the mix.

    Jonathan Hart, a “self-made millionaire” and his beautiful wife, Jennifer, flew around the world in their private jet solving crimes. Apparently the police never got suspicious that this wealthy couple always landed just minutes before somebody died. Nor did the police seem to mind that the Harts were always the first to point the finger at somebody else.

    Excess and leisure-time marked the Harts’ lives. They also spent at least ten minutes worth of the show’s dialogue engaged in baby-talk with each other. This segued into the show’s unending hints that the Harts had a very healthy sex life. I don’t know about you, but when I am solving murders (especially ones that have major international consequences), it always helps to leap into the sack for awhile.

    I will say, though, the Harts’ marriage seemed a lot more interesting and healthy than other marriages on television. They weren’t saddled with mewing and screaming children (even as a child myself, I disliked the presence of children). They also liked spending time with each other. They liked it so much that they even took their baths together (though I am curious why Jonathan Hart is reading a copy of Marie Claire magazine in that scene).


Charlie’s Angels



    I am heavy into camp. I know that my blog probably doesn’t at all give this impression. Truth be told, though, I always gravitated to the campy. To the young queer me (and the adult queer me, too!) Charlie’s Angels' over-the-top genre-bending can’t compare with the purest of heroin.

    Susan Douglas already gave the show a solid critique in Where the Girls Are. It would be hard to compete with that, so I won’t. For our purposes, Charlie’s Angels’ opening title sequence proves irresistible.

    In a nutshell, Charlie, the disembodied boss of the Angels, narrates the necessary exposition. He creates a fairytale situation in which the “three little girls” decided to attend the police academy. While there, we find that these allegedly little girls became experts with guns and learned to toss men over their shoulder with expert judo skills. Despite investing all that money into their training, though, the police force relegated them to traditional women’s jobs of typing, crossing guard, and meter-maid. Charlie informs us that he has rescued these not-quite damsels and given them the excitement that they always craved.

    The rest of the intro sequence seems like a schizophrenic mix between Police Stories and a fashion shoot for Vogue. For every clip of the Angels firing a gun, there is an equal shot of them tossing their hair or trying on a bikini. It all ends in a fiery explosion. What’s not to love?


Remington Steele



    One might expect that the young GayProf would have had a serious crush on Pierce Brosnan. In truth, I was more inclined to want to be like Remington Steel than lust after him (though, as an adult, I recognize those priorities to have been disordered). This show had it all: mystery, a debonair leading man, and Laura Holt got to drive around in a Volkswagon Cabriolet

    Remington Steele, in retrospect, exploited the eighties’ tensions over feminism perfectly. On the one hand, Laura Holt owned the detective agency and had the professional training that made it a success. Those inside the agency understood her to be the real boss even as Steele took all the credit in public.

    Still, as the opening title sequence made clear, nobody would really believe that a woman could be a detective. Her talents and entrepreneurial instincts had to be hidden behind the guise of a man. She created the fictional Remington Steele to give her agency legitimacy.

    On the surface, Laura’s position critiqued society’s sexism. She points out the injustice of a retrograde society that won’t allow women to do “men’s jobs.” Yet, the premise of the show and the character of Steele upheld that idea as well.

    In the show, Brosnan discovers Laura’s secret and assumes the identity of the fictional Steele. Though he had spent most of his time as a thief, Laura quickly forgets about the new Steele’s nefarious past. Moreover, it is often Steele who solves the crime despite Laura’s superior training and experience. We are supposed to believe that Steele has a “natural” ability and instinct that comes, in part, from having been a fanatical movie buff.

    The show suggested that even with superior skills and training, women just couldn’t compete in a man’s world. Remington Steele's premise started with the ultimate version of “behind every good man, there is a better woman.” Very quickly, though, Laura Holt became a victim of her own creation.




Mary Tyler Moore



    When I think of gay men’s Sacred Texts, a number of things come to mind. There are Tales of the City, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, and, of course, the Joy of Gay Sex. For gay men of a certain age, though, the Mary Tyler Moore theme song could possibly trump them all.

    In the first season, the opening credits set the tone perfectly. Mary, leaving behind the dull life of small-town Minnesota, ventures to Minneapolis/St. Paul. Sonny Curtis poses the musical question “How Will You Make it on Your own?” The film answers that she makes it just fine and has a hell of a good time in her new town. She goes for long walks around frozen lakes, pets a dog, and even buys French bread! Then, with exuberance, she tosses her hat in the air while the old woman in the background judges here quietly.

    Of course, the producers wisely edited out the bit where Mary had to retrieve her hat from the street and dodge the on-coming traffic. Nor does the opening show Mary’s lips cracked and bleeding from trying to smile in that bitter cold weather. It’s probably better that way.

    For lots of gay men, Mary’s upbeat beginning seemed like something that related to us. Few gay men, after all, move from their parents house directly into a LTR. There is a period of coming to terms with ourselves and learning what it means to be on our own. We eventually find, though, love is all around! Which is why we also learn to carry lots of condoms.


Fantasy Island



    Back in the late seventies, Saturday nights couldn’t be beat for television, at least for a five-year old. The Love Boat provided a steady paycheck for washed-up actors and Charo who guest starred week after week on that modern update of Ship of Fools. Directly following Love Boat, Fantasy Island provided (by seventies’ standards) a darker venue. It also provided a steady paycheck for washed-up actors and former Brady children who guest starred week after week.

    From the opening credits, the iconic “The Plane, The Plane” made its way into the nation’s lexicon. How many secretaries had to politely laugh as their office-mates’ imitations of Tattoo?

    For those who never saw an episode, the premise of the show centered on the mysterious Mr. Roarke who granted visitors to his island any wish they wanted – for the right price. The show always started the same way: Mr. Roarke provided exposition about the guests’ fantasies to Tattoo. Tattoo, who was supposed to be the business manager of the island, apparently never bothered to look into the island’s reservations until two seconds before he met the guests. I think that he later managed the Intercontinental Hotel chain.

    As I have mentioned in previous entries, my parents always explicitly pointed out any Latino actor on television. To me, the Mexican-born Ricardo Montalbán proved a much more appealing visage than the ever-servile Chico from Chico and the Man. In an almost unheard of move for the networks, they allowed a character with a Spanish accent on television who was neither a dim-wit nor somebody’s servant. In the case of the ethnically-ambiguous Mr. Roarke, they even played up his accent as one of his alluring and intriguing elements.

    Throughout his career, Montalbán managed to walk a tightrope between being a “Latin Lover” stereotype and a genuinely interesting character actor. In many ways, Mr. Roarke continued that same balancing act. On the one hand, Fantasy Island cashed in on the notion of the mysterious Latin who had exotic ways. Still, Mr. Roarke proved smarter than everybody else around him. He also owned his own damn island. That ain’t bad.

    Montalbán garnered special recognition from my father because he had refused to change his name to accommodate his career (Hollywood agents and producers suggested that Ricardo Montalbán go by the name “Ricky Martin” to sound less “foreign.” He refused. I am not sayin’, I am just sayin’.) In the 1950s and 1960s, he made a number of B-level films and did some musicals. By the 1970s, television audiences would also have recognized Montalbán as the Chrysler pitch-man who cooed about Corinthian leather’s softness. Mr. Roarke probably brought the actor his most mainstream recognition. In the middle of filming Fantasy Island, though, he also strapped on a giant plastic chest to resurrect his role as Khan (Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!) for Star Trek II.

    The first season of Fantasy Island offered the most entertainment. In that early incarnation, Mr. Roarke turned out to be a bit of a dick. Sure, he granted people’s fantasies, but he always found ways to manipulate those fantasies so that they turned into nightmares. Taking a lesson from the "Monkey’s Paw," he often put his guests in mortal danger to fulfill their fantasies. Did you want to live like a millionaire? No problem! Of course, all of your money will come from grim dealings with mafia leaders who will be looking to off you. Enjoy your fantasy!

    Somewhere in the middle of their joyless vacation, Mr. Roarke appeared to take delight in his guests’ predicaments. When they pleaded for him to stop, Mr. Roarke clucked at them about “being careful what they wished for.” They had no choice but to finish the fantasy that they started. Beaten, burned, or emotionally devastated at the end, the guests then had to listen to Mr. Roarke tell them why they had misled their lives and wasted all of their money (which he kept) on a pointless fantasy.

    Roarke’s moralizing became so intense that the producers later decided to imply that he was really God. In one episode, he even battled Satan mano-a-mano! Just when we didn’t think the show could have more camp, Rody McDowell popped up as the Prince of Darkness, complete with an all-black suit to contrast Roarke’s white one. Hey, nobody said seventies television had subtlety.

    Since Fantasy Island, I have always had a soft-spot for Ricardo Montalbán. Of course, it also helped that Montalbán leant his voice to New Mexico’s automated tourist radio that dotted the highway. It also really didn’t hurt that he voiced Señor Señor for Kim Possible, either.

    During the late seventies, the only other Latinos on mainstream t.v. mutely served Miss Ellie her morning coffee at the Southfork Ranch. With those options, Montalbán really did seem like God. Mr. Roarke might have been campy, but at least he was in charge.