Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Lady Gaga's Dick and the Queer Mainstream (#10)

In Cynthia Fuchs's essay "If I had a Dick: Queers, Punks, and Alternative Acts" (1998), a link is made between the punk aesthetic of "confusion...mounting a particular challenge to linearity, binarism, and coherence" and queer culture, the two subcultures not being as different as they may seem. This aesthetic has lately (and perhaps finally) broken through to the mainstream in the form of Lady Gaga.



Gaga has exploded into Pop dominance in less than three years. She, like Madonna before her, got her start in the gay community and dance clubs of New York City. And, also like The Material Girl, she gained notoriety in the punk scene (Madonna got her start playing drums in a punk band), or at the very least, incorporated the punk aesthetic into her act. Gaga's persona was also instantly identified as part of the queer community. When she first gained notice, many jokes and comments were made insinuating she was a dude and has a dick (this is referenced in the video for Telephone where she's strip searched and one butch female guard says to another, "I told you she didn't have a dick.")
Gaga seems to be the living embodiment of Fuchs Queer Punk prophecy, only also heavily influenced by Pop Art and Warhol.

Punks and Queers, these social deviants/marginalized citizens of mainstream society, have always managed to make their presence known by defying the status quo and subverting the everyday through their art. They deny the existence of the "mainstream", seeing it as having no more relevance than the subculture. Members of countercultures pride themselves on their individuality and refusal to accept the trappings of society, and strive against the commercializtion of their ideals. The rebels, the unpopular cast-offs and hooligans, renounce the need for acceptance and stand against categorization and standardization.

Gaga, however, represents a new movement that is breaking this tradition. The avant-pop movement defies the usual platform of subcultures because it has always desired commodification. Gaga and her Little Monsters of today's youth have grown out of a mass media saturated society. Rather than yearning for the destruction of the mainstream it seeks to use the elements of conventional society to create a newly altered yet still marketable reality, one that exists on the outside of the mainstream but is fed from within.

The role of a subculture is to subvert the mainstream. Punk culture took what they saw in the mainstream world, the resources and commodities available to them, and reimagining them in a way that was meant to shock and outrage the powers that be (as well as allowing the artists to purge and vent their frustrations). Once a subculture is picked up byt the matinstream, the dominating force will attempt to understand the new materials and realities created by making them seem more relatable to the average citizen. At this point the subculture loses its charm, its resistance to commodification has been superceded by the dominant's way's need to commercialize in order to understand.

This new wave of pop artists long to be exploited. The participants in the avant-pop culture were raised in a mass media created and directed reality. Therefore, rather than eschew the accompaniments of the conventional, tney instead embrace them, they take what they see and attach new meanings as the punks did but they do it in a way that screams for attention. No one witin the movement wants to hide from the mainstream world. Tney want i tinfiltrate it and use its own mechanism against it.

Lady Gaga emerged as the the flag bearer for avant-pop. Her first single, Just Dance, debuted at the top of the Billboard Chart, followed by five consecutive hit singles and a famous performance on the MTV awards, where she dressed like a cross between the Phantom of the Opera and a lingerie model and screamed and bled all over the place. Her success seemingly came out of nowhere but in fact the cultural storm she rode in on had been brewing long before the young star put on her first pair of stilettos. The mixture of synthesized dance beats with catchy rhythms, the bastions of pop music, combined with her bizarrely explicit lyrics and art-damaged Euro fashion sense was exactly the cocktail needed to propel the avant-pop world into the spotlight it had alway slonged for. Her predecessors of successful yet strange/queer pop stars include Bjork, Cyndi Lauper, David Bowie, Yoko Ono, and the group Queen, for who she's named after (the song Radio Gaga). She set out to become the "pop star for misfits and outcasts", encouraging her following of "Little Monsters" to be themselves at all times, damn what society may say. Gaga also has a hand in every aspect of production, from concept to costume, overseeing everythingin her her Warhol's Factory-inspired Haus of Ga. She attempts to beautify the grotesque, carrying on the queer, punk, avant-pop aesthetics with a heavy dose of performance art.

Fuchs mentions that queer visibility is "less a loss of authentic marginality than an invasion and expansion of the mainstream. Punk emulates a kind of acting out and giving in, simulating resistance to exacerbate lingusitic and generic instabilities, acting out and acting up to kick listeners into gear. Transforming the mainstream-injecting it with good music, no less- queer punk translates experience into performance and vice versa, collapsing expression onto identity, fiction onto productive politics."

The commodification of subcultures will continue as long as there is a battle between the popular and the marginalized. Those in control of the mainstream will always try to understand the fringe, and will especially always try to make money off of it. Once commercialized, many subcultures simply fade out, as the unification of outsiderdom no longer applies and the members of the groups become what they were initially fighing against. The avant-pop movement, breaking through in today's world with stars like Gaga, is ulike others because it not only seeks but thrives on popular commercialization. The more the pop culture machine pushes the avant-pop movement towards standardization, the more fuel the artists and fans have for their fire. This is one subculture that seems to resist the death sentence that is commodification and will continue to resist as the media and the world it creates changes with the times.







Friday, October 15, 2010

Slash Fiction (#8)



Henry Jenkin III's essay "Star Trek Rerun, Reread, Rewritten: Fan Writing as Textual Poaching", from 1991, deals with the way fans interact with pop culture texts. Borrowing an idea from Michel de Certeau (consumers as "poachers"), Jenkins asserts that fans take their personal relationships to shows/texts and then share them with other fans in a process that makes the text their own through appropriation/reappropriation.

 (Kirk & Spock in Star Trek: The Motion Picture)

In the final section of the essay, Jenkins writes about K/S fiction (Kirk/Spock), and writing in the early 90s, he was unable to see what a profound influence the internet has had on this subgenre. The internet provided a way for these fans of homoerotic K/S fiction to share and form a much larger community than ever before. 
I came of age in the 90s. I hit puberty somewhere around '94 and was part of the first generation to experience interest in pornography and the rise of the internet at the same time. This collision enabled many young people to explore and dabble in elements of sexuality they may have never been exposed to before. I distinctly remember surfing around for naughty pics and stumbling onto a site housing nothing but "slash" fiction. I had no idea what "slash" was at the time (other than the guitarist from Guns N Roses). Hell, I barely even knew I was gay (yes, even while looking for pictures of naked men) much less the intricate and varied subcultures that were making up the "scene" at the time.


So, what is Slash Fiction? Jenkins writes about K/S fiction, in which fans write stories exploring the perceived homoerotic relationship between Captain Kirk and Mister Spock from Star Trek. Throughout the 1980s, K/S fiction began to dominate the Trek-fan fiction genre. This caused all sorts of scandal, since writing scenes of hard-core sex between beloved male, heterosexual characters is about as close to literal "character rape" as you can get. Jenkins argues that K/S fiction only does openly what all fans do covertly and that objections to K/S stem from discomfort with human sexuality.


As you may have guessed, "slash" fiction as a term evolved from the / symbol in K/S. For awhile it was interchangeable to either write Slash or K/S to denote homosexual, erotic fan fiction. By the time I stumbled upon the genre in the 90s, it was just Slash. The stories seem to have started with Star Trek in the late 70s, but soon spread to include Starsky & Hutch, Dukes of Hazzard, and other 80s series. During this time, Slash was hard to find. It was only printed in 'zines and collections. Then...the internet. Soon, slash fiction involved characters in everything from L.A. Law, Buffy, and Marvel Comics to Harry Potter, X-Files, and N'Sync. Another subgenre developed from "celebrity slash" that deals in fantasy sexual encounters between same-sex celebrity figures.







I am not a consumer of slash fiction (the novelty wore off real fast and trust me when I say these things aren't written by D.H. Lawrence), but I find it fascinating and was excited to see it's formative years explored by Jenkins in his essay. Slash fiction exists as a literal example of "poaching" from a popular text and reappropriating it for radical and subversive means.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Scream and the use of Symbolic Creativity (#7)


(Scream 4 trailer)


There's been a lot of hype and talk about the April release of Scream 4, a return to the film franchise that made "meta" a household name and gave critics the reason to use "post-modern" and "horror" in the same breath. All of the principle actors are back (Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox, David Arquette), screenwriter Kevin Williamson worked on the story, and legendary horror director Wes Craven is back at the helm. 



Looking at the article "Symbolic Creativity" by Paul Willis, I was struck at what a perfect example this particular horror series is for Hollywood appropriating the type of creative consumption Willis is writing about.Willis makes the case that young TV viewers are able to enjoy shows that a high artistic aesthetic because they have an awareness of "visual forms, plot conventions and cutting techniques" and this awareness transforms otherwise "banal, contrived, and formalistic" texts into relatable narratives. The original product is just the "raw materials" for symbolic creativity.

In Scream, the slasher genre is used as the "raw materials", and the film addresses the youth culture of the 90s in which all the young characters have seen the films of the genre over and over. Generation Y, raised on MTV and VHS, has memorized the tropes and conventions of the horror genre and feels superior to the genre, or rather, is no longer easily scared. Legions of young people in the 80s and 90s watched these films, legitimized them, and felt safe with them. Williamson and Craven found a new way to scare this generation by recognizing their superiority to the genre and then turning that on its head. The killer(s) in the Scream films play on the characters' (and audience's) knowledge of the conventions and exploit them to maximum effect. In the opening scene (and probably still the best scene in the franchise), Drew Barrymore is menaced by a killer who turns Movie Trivia into a life-or-death trap.


Craven should be given much credit for his direction. The films still hold up and are pretty enjoyable as thrillers and mysteries (the third one is pretty bad but is entertaining on a comedic/camp level). Craven had already established a cutting style that young audiences respond to (see Nightmare on Elm Street and its MTV-influenced style) and even dabbled in meta-fiction years earlier (Wes Craven's New Nightmare). Not to mention his past with "trash" classics Last House on the Left and The Hills Have Eyes.

I'm looking forward to the fourth film, if for no other reason than to feel fifteen again and have my nostalgia receptor stimulated. I doubt Williamson and Craven will be able to find a way to scare my generation again by playing with conventions about...playing with conventions. But who knows? I'll be very happy if they do.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Popular Discrimination (#6)

We're finally up to the point in class, as we stroll through popular culture theory history, where popular art is starting to be shown some love. I was wondering if I had picked the wrong topic for this blog, since every form of popular culture I love and hold dear has been demeaned and put-down week after week, but now, FINALLY, we're getting to the post-modern era and the triumph of the masses. The first wave of culture critics were concerned that the influence of the masses would corrupt the aesthetic of the arts. I'm sure some would still hold this view (conservative Bush era's National Endowment of the Arts was strictly used for "American Classics" painters. No boat-rocking Piss Christ's allowed.)

This week's essay by John Fiske, "Popular Discrimination" (1991), argues that popular culture does indeed contain the kinds of artistic truths that highbrow art does, but that it is decoded through the societal needs and experiences of the reader/viewer. Fiske points out that the vast majority of popular entertainment does not succeed and fails to find an audience. If the masses were indiscriminate, then why do a small fraction of releases gain blockbuster status or reach saturation-level appeal?



This is what my blog is essentially about! The cross-section between "crap" and Trash. It is about how John Waters can be the "Pope of Trash" and exalt forms of art once thought to be utterly worthless (like nudist nature films and Old Reliable trailer porn) and yet we all coexist in a culture where there are still works being made that ARE deemed utterly worthless. The Room (pictured above) can somehow simultaneously be one of the worst movies ever made and also a huge, massive cult hit every month when shown locally at The Plaza here in Atlanta.

The selection of certain films to be deemed "cult" classics is one of my favorite subjects in popular culture. I am a big fan of The A.V. Club's Cult Cannon and My Year of Flops blogs, which dissect particular films in these cannons each month. (The first published collection of Flops, My Year of Flops has just been released and I am looking forward to owning it. Perfect bathroom reader!)

Here's a selection of a few of my own examples of films saved from extinction by various "cults" of film lovers.

Or what about these now-classic films? Dismissed by "highbrow" critics and now hailed by subsequent generations as timeless works of art?


This highly regarded classic cost (adjusted for inflation) $43 million to produce and only made $46 million in its initial theatrical run. Through the diligence of MGM, re-releasing a decade later and then airing it annually on television, a mediocre box-office draw is now remembered as being one of Hollywood's earliest hits.

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory grossed a dismal (adjusted for inflation) $20 million in its initial run. But television saved it, as well as the invention of Home Video. It became a children's classic in the 1980s and by it's remake in 2005, was deemed by some to be untouchable. 

1983's A Christmas Story was critically written off and was almost out of theaters by the time Christmas actual hit a month after its release. Home Video and television gave it a new life, leading to critics hailing it now as a holiday classic.

That's not even mentioning genuine crap like The Room or Plan 9 From Outer Space that are enjoyed by legions of fans BECAUSE they're awful.

The way we view "bad" art, what these films mean to us and why we cherish them, how we decode their texts, is going to be the premise for the rest of this blog as well as the articles we'll be reading in class.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Don't say the Z'ed word! (#5)

I mentioned in a previous post that I wanted the chance to cover Italian horror, like Fulcci's Zombi.


After our viewing of Shaun of the Dead, I realized that a look at the zombie genre and its connection to Marxism may be the closest chance I get to having an excuse to put the above picture up on my blog. Oh, and also this awesome scene with an eyeball and a piece of wood....


(from Zombi)

The term Zombie has been around in western culture since the 1929 publication of Willie Seabrook's novel The Magic Island, which described the Haitian voodoo phenomenon now attributed to zombies (see The Serpent and the Rainbow). This was followed by a series of stories by H.P. Lovecraft that contained similar themes. The first zombie motion picture is considered to be White Zombie, a take on the Seabrook story by director Victor Halperin. Many point to the film adaptation of H.G. Well's Things to Come as the first modern zombie tale, in that it features a "sickness" that affects the population instead of a ritualistic, voodoo zombie.

Zombies stayed around as part of the sci-fi/horror/b-movie landscape for the next several decades, popping up in films like Plan 9 From Outer Space and other cheese classics as well as EC comics Tales From the Crypt and the I Am Legend/The Last Man on Earth combo in the 1950s.

Then, along came George Romero, and with him the use of the zombie as political metaphor. Romero's seminal horror film from 1964, Night of the Living Dead.




Romero's reinvention of zombies is notable in terms of its thematics; he used zombies not just for their own sake, but as a vehicle "to criticize real-world social ills—such as government ineptitude, bioengineering, slavery, greed and exploitation—while indulging our post-apocalyptic fantasies"-
http://www.greencine.com/static/primers/zombies1.jsp

Romero's Marxist parallel comes closest to full-blown realization with his 2005 film Land of the Dead. Coming right at the heels of Bush Jr.'s "political mandate" of 2004, Land imagines a not-too-distant future where zombies run amok and the elite are housed in a giant high-rise/mall, safely out of the zombie's reach. Soon, though, a more highly evolved zombie begins teaching the other zombies how to use tools and they storm the gates of the rich in a feeding frenzy.




How's that for an "Eat the Rich" manifesto?! I remember seeing the film in theaters in 2005 and thinking how explicit the metaphor was (much the same way people criticize Machete today...read this fucking crazy blog post: http://minx.cc/?post=305379). However, I think that's the point. Dawn of the Dead, hailed as Romero's masterpiece, uses the setting of a shopping mall as an overt political metaphor. Each Romero film builds on the times surrounding it.  Time and distance will one day make people look at Land of the Dead as a snapshot of life in the second half of the Bush years, with Katrina and Iraq and all the madness buffered by extreme wealth and extravagant living.

Which brings me back around to Shaun of the Dead. I adore this movie. It's nasty, charming, and also deeply political in its own way. Edgar Wright takes Romero's metaphor of zombies as workers in a capitalist society and inverts it, making the surviving humans the workers and mining this for comedic value. The underlying message seems to be that only friendship and human relationships (Shaun and his buddy, his girlfriend, even his stepdad) can lift us out of the horrors of banality that accompany life in modern society. The most brilliant aspect of Shaun is how long it takes the lead character to notice the zombie outbreak has occurred. Wright seems to show the western worker drone as being more brain-dead and "asleep" then the zombies themselves. Or rather, there is not much difference between them.




The zombie, a uniquely 20th century monster, paved the way for movie monsters to be political. The wave of vampires, werewolves, and other baddies with underlying political metaphors and chips on their shoulders owe a lot to their Zombie Comrades.

Summer 2010: Saved by Trash

This summer movie season was dismal, to put it kindly. Potential franchises and sequels were mostly D.O.A. (Prince of Persia, A-Team, more Shrek and Sex & the City). There were only a handful of smart, well-written films for adults (Inception, The Kids Are Alright). So, where were the fun surprises to be found? In the B-Movie/Camp Genre of course!!

In my trash-loving opinion, the two best summer films of 2010 were Piranha 3D and Machete.



Piranha 3D was tits-tastic, with a self-aware cast that was having a blast making this gorefest. Seriously, I think maybe only the opening of Saving Private Ryan rivals this film for the sheer carnage packed into a twelve-minute chunk of scene. You have to see this (the 3D, as usual, is totally arbitrary and useless so check it out on DVD if you want). 






Machete, by Robert Rodriguez, improves upon his already-delightful grindhouse feature, Planet Terror. with another B-movie throwback. This one (based on a trailer from his collaboration with Tarantino, Grindhouse) is about a Mexican hitman, set up by Gringo bad guys to kill a senator. Right off the bat, we are given scene after scene of inventive, funny ways of destroying people with gardening tools. Rodriguez uses the whole, silly thing as a statement on immigration in the U.S.
Most of the critics I've read have derided the movie's political message, calling it obvious and over-the-top. Well....DUH! This is a grindhouse film of the MEXploitation genre. It would be inappropriate for this movie to NOT deal with politics. Blacksploitation and Mexploitation films of the 70s were often loaded with political symbols and messages. Sure, Machete outdoes them all with the image of Robert De Niro dressed as a migrant field worker tied to a fence and riddled with bullets. Or Jessica Alba, as an INS officer, siding with the illegals and yelling "We didn't cross the border! The border crossed us!"
Oh. And Lindsey Lohan's titties are in it. And she's in a nun's habit firing a shotgun.

I loved these movies. They are both perfect representations of the types of films this blog is dedicated to. They were also blasts of fresh, 70s air in a summer full of stifling, overheated misfires.