Monday, April 4, 2011

Sell Outs

A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to explain 4chan to a friend and we came up with the phrase "an old part of the internet." As the internet ages, we see forms and functions codifying and becoming controlled. Even as new forms come into being (twitter, facebook, etc), they can be seen as improvements on older forms and programs (livejournal, friendster, geocities). In many ways, this seems to be a pattern that emerges throughout cultural studies and cultural history: we see the rise of a new medium of expression that carries with it a chance for liberatory communication between people on the margins. Inevitably, though, each form becomes totally subsumed within the capitalist structure as forms become codified and corporations take control of distribution and production, turning the possibility of revolution into a mouthpiece of corporations. In other words, we like their early stuff, but then these media sold out.

This narrative follows through cultural studies to the core: EP Thompson talks about the "folk festivals of capitalism" and Theodor Adorno is always harping on how much better everything was when films were silent and jazz was disruptive. The question that then arises is whether this accurately describes how capitalism interacts with artforms or if it is imposed by nostalgic scholars. There seems to be a pervasive nostalgia, especially on the left, for simpler times when unions were strong and wars were collectively fought. As an artform enters the mainstream, it begins to follow conventions and acquires the glossy patina of corporate interests. John Waters' earlier "Hairspray" will always look a lot more authentic and revolutionary than the spectacle featuring John Travolta in a fat suit.

In some ways, this narrative makes a lot of sense. Most people would admit that capitalism's greatest asset is its voracious ability to consume and capitalize on almost anything (just look at the profit margin on Che t-shits). And "Working Class Hollywood" definitely shows this development as film production moved from independent studios to the highly consolidated studio system in Hollywood. Media consolidation always brings with it a severe conservatism that will limit what stories get told and how. And the drive for profit almost makes it inevitable that capitalists will take over any profitable media.

So under this model, there seems to be a moment in any medium in which there is radical potential, a weird period before anyone knows what's going on or how we can take advantage of a form of communication. I think that we've documented this narrative enough, and we need to start looking at ways in which this moment can be extended. I think that advocates for net-neutrality are forming this sort of movement already (even before the fight has truly begun), and there are ways in which blogs, ebooks and social media haven't been totally taken over by capitalist codification. Maybe capitalism will always have more money, energy, innovation than radical movements and the sell out is inevitable. But I still think that there are ways of modifying consumption patterns and the assumptions of media themselves that can extend this brief moment of flowering when media forms are new.

Morality of Exploitation

One of the points that I found interesting in Ross's analysis of the early 20th century films is the limitations of Progressive Ideology that permeated them. While having a subject matter that is purportedly radical in addressing the experiences and the exploitation of working class, these early films did so within certain constraints. The fact that the poor had to fit into a certain mould to deserve our 'sympathy' and 'justice' brought to my mind the idea of a "Nobel Savage," the virtue attributed to the 'lowly born' in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the exclusionary and reformist impulse behind such stereotypes. Ross notes that "the compassion of filmmakers was genuine, but it was also contingent on poor acting in certain ways: they should be clean, respectable, hardworking, virtuous, kind and supportive of their families... The cinematic poor are in fact idealized versions of how the middle class ought to behave" (50). Ross further notes the prevalence of patriarchal gender stereotypes - of virtuous poor women who were able to fend off their exploiters with the help of a 'friendly male' - in these films. These limitations seem to have curbed the subversive potential of these films to an extent, making them contradictory texts.

Further, Ross underlines that these films ultimately attributed the blame for exploitation and the problems of the poor to a greedy Boss or a manager and, consequently, the struggles of the workers were most often figured as against corrupt individual capitalists, rather than against the system as a whole. This is a another problematic aspect of these representations, which displace the blame onto an individual, rather than the workings of the system that ultimately enables them to act the way they do. The system doesn't produce or shape the individual in any significant way in these representations, but the individual precedes the system, ultimately making it a matter of individual goodness and morality. Thus, the impression that I gathered from Ross's discussion of these limitations is that these early films portrayed workplace exploitation and corruption as moral issues connected with specific individuals, rather than political/social/economic issues. Such representations would have been cathartic for the oppressed viewers of these films in their powerlessness to dismantle the lager exploitative social structures.




The Value of Films

Brit

As I read Working-Class Hollywood, I began to wonder what how movies are interpreted today.  Movies throughout the ages have been used in various ways, but today I feel that with such a wide range of genres, movies can be virtually anything to anyone.  During the Second World War many movies were used as propaganda, such as Saboteur, showing a man’s struggle to bring the real culprits to justice.  After the war movies depicted soldiers coming home and what that meant for them and America as a whole, as seen in films like The Best Years of Our Lives.  Each successive era has shown films that have some bearing on the social issues at hand, but as I think about it, not that I have a vast knowledge of film history, there do not seem to be many working-class struggle type films. 

Even today, with all the different types of films being created, the most socially conscious are documentaries.  Just as Kruse and others attempted to use documentaries as a way to show social issues as they happened, directors today use documentaries to raise awareness of many of the social issues at hand.  Documentaries are far more successful today in terms of availability, most notably being available through Netflix and other venues, they still lack the broad appeal of feature films.  They generally have limited release in theaters and are not shown nearly as often, but I do believe that films have value, beyond the monetary value production companies place on them.

Beyond the idea that films are entertainment or a form of escape, films often can and often do say something about a social issue.  There are countless films available for people to watch and learn from either by going to the theater or watching movies at home.  With new ways of watching films, either through Redbox, Netflix, Amazon, or any of the other various resources, people can watch virtually anything.  While there are movies out there that are virtually made for entertainment’s sake, take for example Sucker Punch, there are also films being made that say something about the state of society right now.  The Company Men focuses on three men who have to face corporate downsizing and how that affects their lives and the lives of their families.  This film shows the affects of unemployment, which is a crisis we are facing today, and it does it as a feature film with big name actors like Ben Affleck and Tommy Lee Jones.  Films say something, whether they are made-for-television, documentaries, foreign, or feature films, they are valuable as more than just works of art or entertainment. 

Rowdy Viewers

While I found many aspects of Steven J. Ross’ “Working-Class Hollywood,” interesting, his accounts of audience participation got me thinking: when films transitioned from silent to talkies were the voice’s of the audience replaced by the voice’s of actors? Ross describes a typical theater in the silent era: “a communal atmosphere in which audiences regularly booed, cheered, or applauded scenes that reflected harshly or kindly on their lives and politics” (25). This seems very different from a typical movie going experience of today, at least in most cases, but I suppose the films are also very different. Now they are longer, and some (perhaps badly) rely on dialogue to move the plot forward. Maybe instead of comparing the theater going experience of the past to today, we should find a more compatible comparison: YouTube Sessions. When friends watch YouTube videos they react and talk about what they are being shown.

However, I can even think of other situations today where silence is not imposed on a theater going audience. For example, at 5th Ave Cinema’s (student run Cinema at Portland State) there was definitely a “communal atmosphere” wherein students would react to the film and comment on what they were watching. The Cinema showed a variety of film genres, from art house films to cult classics like John Carpenter's The Thing. The films were hand selected by “film people” and tended to draw a knowledgeable audience who had already seen the film before. So because of the type of audience, the price (free for students, $3 for guests), and the films being shown, there still exist pockets of rowdy viewers.

Conservative Today, Liberal Tomorrow

During the 2008 election Obama caught some flak for remarks regarding working-class voters.

Obama argued that many had fallen through the economic cracks during the Bush and Clinton administrations and that they were angry because of job losses dating back 25 years, "It's not surprising then they get bitter . . . They cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

Both Clinton and McCain blasted Obama for being out of touch with the working class as well as his “breathtaking elitism,” yet Obama maintained, "I said something everybody knows is true . . . which is there are a whole bunch of folks in small towns in Pennsylvania — in towns right here in Indiana, in my hometown in Illinois — who are bitter. They are angry. They feel like they've been left behind."

Obama ultimately played down his characterization of the American working class as a population whose exploitation and victimization basically drives them to guns, racism, Jesus and meth, but his initial comments reflect a privileged liberal narrative. The dissenting voices of today perpetually represent the working class as victims: victims of a rich man’s war, victims of corporate America’s ceaseless campaign of consumption, victims of educational testing. . .

This narrative ironically resonates with Ross’ analysis of the conservative labor-capital films of the early 20th century in Working Class Hollywood. In these “conservative” films workers are represented as lawless and violent, but above all, as victims. “Conservative filmmakers repeatedly portrayed strikes and radical movements as led by a handful of foreign-born agitators who relied upon violence and duped good but naïve workers into serving their own corrupt needs.” Likewise, Ross affirms in the epilogue, “The most long-standing conservative image of the silent era is undoubtedly the depiction of working people as easily manipulated.”

Perhaps nowhere is this continuity with today’s liberal representations more apparent than the progressive, anti-war documentaries of the “War on Terror.” The Grounded Truth, Fahrenheit 9/11, Gunners Palace, Restrepo, and Occupation Dreamland all use the working class soldier as their primary object of representation in the telling of the modern war story. The soldiers are always depicted – with sympathy and condescension – as victims of their working class economic conditions, ignorance, or a combination of both. The prey of military recruiters, the human shrapnel of George Bush’s policies, the soldier of the liberal imagination does not know why he is in the Middle East and is helpless to change that. In the Grounded Truth one soldier stated, “There’s nothing we can do. We have to keep going.” Another soldier echoed, “I have no control over what put me in Iraq.” They have been duped and manipulated by government and big business – not by radical European union leaders, Reds, or simply corrupt agitators as was the working class of the conservative silent era film. Still, the working class is defined as a naïve victim (what was once manifestation of conservative ideology). It makes me question whether these modern accounts of war serve the progressive ends which they lay claim.

Last thought:
-Many directors of the silent era celebrated the “virtuous individual” over the “collective mob.” In The Scab (1911) the protagonist, a union leader, is condemned for making “his little family to suffer” due to his obstinate support of the union struggle. The working class protagonist concludes, “Family unions should not be sacrificed for labor unions.” Likewise the hero of The Strike at the ‘Little Jonny’ Mine convinces his fellow drunken and rowdy miners to stop their violent striking and achieves wage increases by working with the mine superintendent and the local sheriff and placidly negotiating. Today, we often see the working class celebrated and reinforced for being good husbands/wives and content/peaceful laborers who are never without a smile and always without ambition or vision that exceeds providing for their family and perhaps taking a vacation to their native country -UNDERCOVER BOSS!

screening for class consciousness

Agatha

i admit i was also surprised, like Edwin, to think of the origins of film as more than that of a commodity, to see it as the grounds for political and social contention. i guess i always imagined that most of the first films made, were choppy, black-and-white, vaudeville-esque ten minute romps of flappers doing the charleston. Ross gives a much more powerful picture of film as a venue for "teaching immigrants what it meant to belong to a particular class" (21).

that phrase also gave me some pause, however. Ross seems to both view the film as a means of inciting political action and labor-solidarity, but conversely also a sort of means of manipulation on the part of the filmmaker, à la Adorno. which is it? i guess we could ask the same thing of any film today, however, and of any creative expression of culture, for that matter.

i do like how film opened doors between class relations in many ways, but it seems like this working-class empowerment is complicated (well, duh). i mean, anyone could sit anywhere in the theatre (a revelation!) but "respectable" people didn't go to these theatres. so how much class-mixing really went on there? i wonder, too, about the realities of immigrant/race dynamics, of whether or not italians, jews, blacks, and swedes, really embraced sitting next to each other in the darkened nickelodeon. maybe. but sometimes that seems a little too hopeful as a twenty-first century look at the past.

it seems like while early labor filmmakers could make cheap films on their own time, they could reach a mass labor audience; but once the expectation for elaborate and costly film became the norm, these filmmakers effectively lost to the affluent resources of middle-class investors and censorship boards. i wonder today how this struggle translates; are the "radical," independently funded films really all that radical? or if the movie industry were different, were still in its baby-stage of undefined, would we see so much more diversity of thought on the big screen?

Ross's final lament over the turning of the labor film industry over to middle-class censorship and to Hollywood's homogenizing clutches, made me think of a film we watched last semester, I Remember Mama (film adaptations, anyone?). i debate with myself whether the film is part of the last vestiges of the overt class-conscious film, as it glorifies the life of a Norwegian immigrant family living in San Francisco; or whether its lack of political antagonism, and soothing family-values message, are rather part of the new Hollywood trend to present all (good) Americans as classless, yet noble, citizens of a democractic society. what complicates this more for me is that we discussed last semester how even such a film in which immigrants take a central role, became non-existent after WWII, effectively making even this film seem a bit "controversial." which is really kind of laughable if you ever get a chance to watch it. but still, perhaps I Remember Mama is an expression of that transition, that conflict between radical labor filmmakers and the blooming Hollywood industry.

I Guess Film is Ok Edwin

I was initially skeptical of this week’s reading, because I have a difficulty in observing film beyond its base as a commodity. Film, although it has the capability of being a truly artful production, tends to get warped and changed through difficulties with budgets and censorship by production companies. However, this is a modern problem of film production, and while I was skeptical of Ross’s work, it was refreshing to observe the humble and social reflective beginnings of film. Even though it is clear that movies began solely as a method in which to make money.

Ross, however, polishes over this fact very nicely in describing film as one of the first mass forms of mass leisure for working class individuals. Although the purveyors of these first “nickelodeons” did indeed have money in their sights, they inadvertently created a form of leisure that diminished the alienation that many working class individuals felt on a daily basis. It is also interesting to see how film grew as an art form, not because it was absorbed by a different type of producer, but because better films made more money: “By offering the public better films and theaters, industry leaders began attracting greater numbers of white-collar and middle class patrons” (32).

Ross’s discussion of melodrama was also interesting. Judging from the description of some of the films, these depictions of working class plight set up a clear “good guy,” “bad guy” dichotomy. These movies made it ok to hate your boss, even though he was the moderator of your survival. They showed the disgruntled factory worker that they are not alone in their anger; that their feelings were popular enough to shown as entertainment to hundreds of people a day.

In this work Ross really focuses on the cohesive nature that film had, and this idea has not faded. One only has to look at the cult success of the movie “Office Space” to see that people still hate their jobs and their bosses.