My recent post "Can Glee Maintain Rachel Berry's Relatability?" generated some really interesting feedback. Many of you said I brought up some valid points to consider, which is definitely something any writer wants to achieve in our work, so that was great to hear. Additionally, you reminded me to consider the perspective in which I was critiquing the development of a fictional character, and showed me that I was looking at Rachel with the expectation that she should reflect my own desires and insecurities. Which maybe wasn't entirely fair of me to do.
Objectively, I stand by my previous comments about my impressions of season 4. For me, Rachel's story, and more broadly, the New York set story, looks too over the top for my liking and not one I'm particularly interested in right now. For those of you who are excited about it, great; I hope you like it, and I'm glad Lea seems to be having fun with it.
I would like further consider the question though, about the responsibilities of art and artists. Do they simply need to entertain us, or do they need to speak to us on a personal level as well? Do they need to act as a source of validation for each of our circumstances and choices? Provide social commentary on the world-at-large?
The answers to these questions will of course, be different for different people. I often love to delve deep into a novel, film, album and what it may be trying to say; other times, I just need to disengage temporarily from my own life, and there are merits to both ways of interpreting a work. But when I think of the stories that have affected me the most, they are the ones that spoke somehow to my dreams, fears and sense of identity. That resonance, I think, is what separates entertainment and true art.
Of course, what moves each of us personally will never be exactly the same. That diversity of reactions is what makes creative canon so interesting and wonderful.
Which brings me back to my own work. I want to know, what are your thoughts? Your favorite movies, music, books? What would you like to see more of on this website? Because I want to connect with you, too. That's the only fun in it all anyway.
Share stories, pictures. Vent about your day. Ask questions. Stop by next time you're on Facebook or Pinterest.
Mug for Thought is what you make of it.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
A few weeks from now, Glee's fourth season will premiere, and we'll finally learn how Rachel Berry's been doing since we last left her in New York City. Though I don't intend to follow the show as closely as I have in previous years, I'd like to address concerns I have about the direction in which Ryan Murphy may be taking the show, particularly as it regards Rachel's character.
When we first met Rachel, we knew she had a heart and dreams larger than her archetypal high school and town could contain. She wanted to be a star. So when a teacher at her school decided to revive the school’s Glee club, she jumped at the opportunity, yet still had a long journey through high school ahead of her. Rachel Berry demonstrated a longing for acceptance and success to which anyone can relate. She wanted to inspire people and feel that they cared for her. This passion I know too well can often be misunderstood for egotism, uptightness, delusion, overachievement, and flightiness in a world that doesn't always understand, and Glee, at its best, has captured this experience. Rachel was driven in her dreams of performing not only because the arts were something she'd loved since childhood, but because she wanted to escape the cutthroat high school social environment in which she was an outsider. That vulnerability and heartbreak are the very experiences that led us to relate to, fall in love with and root for Rachel throughout the series. I was a high school wallflower myself, as I suspect a lot of us were, and so Rachel is the character I have had the strongest emotional attachment to during most of my experience watching Glee, and certainly the one I've written about most. Despite Rachel's comfort in knowing she can build a life for herself outside of high school, she still wishes for a sense of connection with her classmates. In the show's pilot, she confides to Will, "Being a part of something special makes you special" - she wants to feel valued and appreciated, not only after she graduates, but at this very moment and in the environment of her present.
Three years later, Rachel has experienced heartbreaks and victories. She has won a National show choir championship, graduated high school and boarded a train to one of the most prestigious New York performing arts programs in the world. And, she has been in a very serious relationship with a boy who loves her so much he was willing to let her go because he views himself as a potential impediment to her ability to fully flourish on Broadway. Right away, we can see that the Rachel of “Goodbye” is very different than the Rachel of the Pilot. Her metamorphosis really has been something out of a fairy tale, and I know I’ve often found myself wondering, “Why her and not me?” And perhaps there is no answer to that question. Moreover, having seen how hard Rachel has worked to get to where she is today, and how happy she is, it’s hard not to delight in her triumphs.
But this season, which places Rachel in New York with a supposed whole new set of challenges, will be a test of whether we still view Rachel as someone to cheer for. What concerns me, based on what I’ve learned about the upcoming episodes, is that her character is becoming too sexy and could lose touch with the roots that made her the beloved underdog we initially connected with.
Lea Michele has done a great job of taking her media image seriously knowing how many people look up to her and her character. She uses social media to connect with us, speaking about her closeness to her family and enjoyment of staying in to watch TV herself. Her Facebook posts often reiterate points she’s made in interviews about being true to herself, following her dreams, and encouraging us to do the same. At the same time, Lea is clearly comfortable, and enjoys, being seen as sexy and desirable, both in photo shoots and character scenes like “Baby One More Time.” As she should. She’s 25, works extremely hard and has been able to balance her girl-next-door and bombshell personas really well - no easy task, particularly for a young Hollywood actress. (Coincidentally, she'll be covering another Britney Spears number in episode two. Wearing this.)
Sadly, we live in a culture that is still more interested in a person’s sex appeal more than their authenticity, and I’ve seen the impact these norms have made on Glee’s presentation of Rachel Berry. So far, we’ve learned that in season 4 Rachel gains the affections of a new boy, has a far-from-needed makeover, and lives in an unreal New York apartment with Kurt, who has somehow landed an internship at Vogue himself (x). While I understand that college is a time for experimenting and is often glamorized in the media, the transition seems a bit too seamless for me and not reflective of the typical freshman experience (certainly not mine!).
Glee showrunner Ryan Murphy has shown a love of pushing the envelope, and there’s a lot of merit in that. But I think he also needs to decide what type of show he wants to make – one that represents our fantasies or one that speaks to what we’re really going through. Because he built Glee on the latter ideal, and if he wants to continue to delivering that message, he needs to prove he’s committed to it 100%.
Glee: Goodbye, for now.
How I Learned to (Sort of) Stop Worrying and Love the Monchele
First Times, on Glee and Beyond
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
These past few weeks, I've enjoyed following Jerry Seinfeld's most recent project, "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee."
When I first heard that Jerry was producing this web series, I was naturally interested right away. He is, of course, one of my all-time favorite entertainers and influences, so his name being attached to a project is an automatic selling point for me. I also liked the idea of learning more about the Internet as a growing platform for original content, as well as finding another series to cover on MFT.
The show's premise is as straightforward as the title indicates. In each episode, Jerry picks up his guest of the week in one of the cars from his famed collection and they go to a diner for coffee. That's about it. The variety in each episode comes with who is having coffee with Jerry and what they talk about during that time, which is precisely why it works.
Jerry has been really smart in the way that he has chosen projects post-Seinfeld, never trying to top the show about nothing while still drawing upon the formula that made it a pop cultural masterpiece. In 2009, he and Seinfeld co-creator Larry David staged a fictional(?) reunion show on David's follow-up series Curb Your Enthusiasm. With "CCC," Jerry once again allows the nuances of everyday life to take the wheel and steer the show (metaphorically, of course.) The diner scenes brings back familiar memories of Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer passing countless hours at Monk's but are inherently different enough not to pale in comparison either.
In short, "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee" is not particularly profound viewing, but that's what makes it great, and Seinfeld's ability to present the fascinating within the ordinary is what has set him apart for over two decades. "Comedians'" potential is unlimited, and I'm looking forward to enjoying the ride.
"Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee" is available on Facebook, Crackle and ComediansinCarsGettingCoffee.com. New episodes debut Thursdays at 9 PM Eastern.