Last weekend, I got into a “friendly” (because we always remember, eventually, that we are friends, despite the heat and disgust we might feel towards each other at the time) argument about the formation of images and the crafting of messages.
Or, at least, I think that’s what we were talking about. These things tend to spin wildly out of control.
What it came down to was a discussion of why I would never see Borat. My friends, who know me quite well, insisted it was my kind of humor. I insisted it was America-bashing, and that while satire is fine, it is the custom of satire to bring the king down to our level.
As Chase, in the beautiful piece of cinema Drive Me Crazy, points out: “We laugh when the debutante slips on the banana peel, not Tiny Tim.”
While the people in these movies may deserve our ridicule, it is because (at least in my opinion) the people were set-up to be suckers. I don’t care that Sascha Baron Cohen and his lawyers provided waivers – they were counting on human nature to overcome that hurdle. These people were not fully aware of the situation, and thus conned into revealing things they probably (and I acknowledge the “probably”) would not have, and ultimately made to look like fools by a professional clown (which isn’t a disparagement, but rather a way of identifying what Baron-Cohen does for a living).
We argued about that.
At some point we got to Fahrenheit 9/11, and once again I proclaimed I would never see that movie. Oddly enough, despite its clearly anti-Bush rhetoric (which I don’t necessarily disagree with, just despise for its simplicity – in my mind at least; you may wish to question me on that), my dislike of the movie stems from a dislike of Michael Moore and his blatant subjectivity (he said ironically). Baron Cohen, who I think can be genuinely funny and insightful, has a movie I won’t watch for specific reasons. Moore, who I find thoroughly detestable, has a movie I won’t see because of what amounts to strict irrationality.
It should be noted that this dynamic isn’t surprising, and yet I feel I’m not always conscious of it, and that is not really a good thing for someone who aspires towards objectivity, even in my opinions. In other words, I’m trying to be open-minded, but too often my fingers are in my ears, and I’m shouting “LA LA LA LA LA!!!”
-- This condescending description of how opinions work brought to you by David --
Moore, who was both attacked and defended through the invocation of such inflammatory names as Coulter and Limbaugh, led to my friend asking if I ever read Al Franken’s latest book. I scoffed.
The reasoning behind my scoff was because I’m oddly allegiant to conservatives, in spite of some of my overwhelming liberal tendencies (you try to shut down political evolution with six years of university under your belt). I believed (and still believe) that it is one thing to criticize the talking-head morons on the Right, but it is another to do so in a way that, in turn, creates the perception that you are making fun of the beliefs of half the country.
Remember that word: “perception.” It is important because what I tried to argue (in other words, I argued and tried to get across) was that it would ever matter what Franken’s message was, because of the medium in which he chose to convey it. This had pretty much always been my position regarding avoidance of inflammatory (seeming) Liberal rhetoric, but having recently been inundated with copious amounts of Marshall McLuhan, I think I finally localized my argument into a semblance of coherent, rational thought.
As such, I was very proud of myself and equally bewildered by my friends’ inability to not only grasp my argument, but to not bow to the magnificence of my logic. It’s very bothersome.
My contention was that by framing his argument via the humorous essay (in book-length form), Franken is producing a text that is automatically abhorrent to the very people he’s trying to convince. His arguments could be sound and irrefutable, but if the idea is to convince the Right that their unelected spokesmen are full of it, he chose exactly the wrong medium. His proposals are preaching to the choir, because they are the only ones who would ever be inclined to read it.
At some point during this argument, someone (me) brought up An Inconvenient Truth. To set this up, it must be noted that I saw this movie because I was a global warming skeptic, having just read Michael Crichton’s State of Fear. My friends thought I was an idiot (and I’m man enough to admit that they were right. . .to a point, but that’s a whole other conversation), so I suggested I’d watch the movie if they read the book. I saw the movie, but my “friends” (yeah, those lying bastards are in quotes for the rest of this paragraph), didn’t read the book. But that’s not really super-important right now.
What is relevant is that the movie was not only about Al Gore’s ideas, but starred Al Gore. This is where my problem lied (lie? lay? laid? Goddamn verb tenses!), because to me, Al Gore is such a polarizing figure. This may surprise some people, as it surprised my friends, because to many, Gore is practically a harmless figure in the political arena, but to Conservatives, there is no person more heinous than William Jefferson Clinton, unless that person is Hillary Rodham Clinton. After that, though, there is hatred by proxy, and Gore, through association with the Clintons, is a figure that brings out irrationality in a lot of normally level-headed folk. My thought was how this affected his message. Because by making a movie that appears to be Al Gore talking about global warming, instead of a movie about global warming, he effectively alienates a segment of the population that needs not be alienated.
This is not about skepticism. I’m sure there were/are skeptics in both parties, and no movie is going to be strong enough to shake someone with a solid belief. But there were people on the fence from the right who could have been convinced, but were repelled by Gore. Repelled by Gore and his antagonistic title. Repelled by a politician at a politically-charged time.
Despite the fact that the movie is not political, per se (obviously it’s political, but it’s not about national, Red versus Blue politics), it comes off as being political by people who want to see it as political. Al Gore on the screen makes it electorally political. The problem with that is that the movie is supposed to be about global warming. It is a universal issue that needs universal (and immediate) coverage, but instead looks like an overt attempt to re-enter the political arena. It plays as political, and not as scientific, especially to people who haven’t (and because of the reason stated above, won’t) seen the movie.
My suggestion, then, was for Al Gore to have stepped aside and allowed a less politicizing figure to narrate the story. At the time, I was advocating a “neutral” movie star (personally, I was gunning for Will Smith, because that guy is box-office gold!), but I’ve started to realize that although that might have brought slightly more people to the theatre, it might have provided fodder (as my friend argued) for the movie’s critics. So instead, I think perhaps a no-name actor, or better yet, a Conservative scientist, using Al Gore’s script and slides, could have done a better job at selling the movie. If the idea is to spark action against global warming, then why does it matter that Al Gore did the work putting this together? What’s more important: Al Gore getting all the credit, or global warming being exposed to a mass audience? I know which side of the fence I’m on, and I’m pretty sure which side of the fence my friends are on. I think it’s just harder for them because they don’t see how distasteful Al Gore can be to some people.
Remember, though: It doesn’t matter if you understand the reason, it matters that you are prepared to act on it.
Of course, last Wednesday, Gore was on television, testifying to Congress, so maybe this is a moot point. Still, in a world where our lives are practically dictated by Madison Avenue, wouldn’t a sounder marketing strategy have created a better opportunity to get the facts out in the open? I just think that the idea wasn’t even considered.
Don’t get me wrong, either. I’m using Gore’s movie here because that’s what I talked about with my friends, but this goes for almost all political texts (texts as in movies, books, essays, columns, and radio shows), in which the end result is not to truly create change, but to sell a product. It is politics as commodity, where you preach to the choir knowing full well that they will lap it up, even though it means cutting off the opposition, and often-times antagonizing them (inadvertently or not). Limbaugh is loathsome to the Left because he plays the game so well. Franken is loathsome to the Right because he tries to play the game.
And Gore is bothersome, because he didn’t realize that he was still in the game.
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2 comments:
OK, I know you have probably gone through all of this with your friends, but I want to offer up another reason for watching Borat that I think is in line with your political frustrations (many of which are my own). For me, watching Borat wasn't about watching midwest Americans make fools of themselves by revealing their predjudices (in turn revealing the hatred many other americans have for them). I'll admit I laughed a lot, and was embarrassed, but that is not the genius of the film. What Borat exposes in ALL the Americans in the film is their inability to recognize and explain the non-universal structures which make up American culture. Before I go further I would like to readily admit that I am often guilty of this as well. The best scene, in my opinion, is when Borat is speaking with the group of feminists. There is some humor in Borat hurling sexist insults at them, but what is really funny (in a certain sense of that word) is the way these academics, flag waving feminists, or whatever they are completely lack the ability to address Borat and explain to him what he sees as a cultural assumption. Granted, this very assumption is quite funny to an american audience (again revealing the humor most americans find in foreigners, their ideas, and their swimsuits), but it is the flustered guardians of the universal concept of feminism that end up making fools of themsleves. I do not find this funny because I think women's rights is a big joke; I find it funny because these women completely lack the skill set to speak to someone with a different background and set of assumptions. In other words, Borat is never the choir to which one can preach to (this structure is much more readily available in Da Ali G Show). Now this may be a different reading (or I might just be regurgitating what others have said), but because it lays bare this structure you are so frustrated with, the film might be of some worth to you. If anything, this reading is a way to somehow take the high ground in a discussion of Borat. The bottom line is that the layers of the humor are deep and complex, for often times the joke is on the audience when they laugh along with Borat's antisemitism and sexism. The movie perhaps made too many people laugh and too few uncomfortable.
The funny thing is that as soon as these arguments came out of my mouth (or, as it were, off my fingers), I knew I was going to eventually end up watching Borat. The reason is that although I'm uncommonly stubborn, I also hate being misinformed: I like knowing that the reason I dislike something is because I actually disliked it.
It is interesting, though, the way you point out that a lot of the humor is not for the audience, but at the expense of them. I wonder if the reaction would have been as great if they were aware that the people being crapped on by Baron Cohen could have easily have been them? Again, though, that's him using Borat to make fun of Americans, but it's almost worse, too!
Still, I think overall I now need to see it. It is too important a cultural (as opposed to political; I still don't think I can watch Fahrenheit 9/11) moment for me to disregard.
I sort of equate it to Titanic in that regard.
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