"Pleasure from victims" and Consumerism: the case of Korean dramas

This week’s readings are about gender and melodrama, the women’s genre. In Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess while equally examining three “body” genres – pornography, horror and melodrama Williams contributes insightful examination toward the melodrama. In contrast to the feminist empirical assumption that melodrama offers pleasure of viewing for male only, she argues, this women’s genre also offers female viewer the “suspension of pleasure” and “pleasure from victims.” From postmodernist lens, Joy investigates the connection among women, TV melodrama and consumerism.  Like Williams, Joyrich avoiding looking down melodramas, he rather finds its potential in softening viewers’ anxiety when they have to face social and ideological crisis because of the ability offering illusion of the order. Joy argues that because of the cultural place in which women suffer the patriarchy, women do not have the necessary distance toward images presented on the screen. This closeness inspires women’s narcissism. Therefore, they are attracted to images on TV and become subjects of advertising in the depressing search for the real self.

Rather than adopting Williams’ and Joyrich’s arguments to analyze Far From Heaven, I would like to take an alternative road. In the followings, I will clarify the “suspension of pleasure”  (Williams) and the relations of female and consumerism (Joyrich) through examining blossom of Korean dramas in the 1990s in Asia and Vietnam. 

In the late 1990s and early 2000s Korean dramas swept over East Asia, pioneering for the invasion of Korean Wave in many countries in this area. Particularly, in 1997, the show What is Love All About was broadcasted on China Central Television quickly became a phenomenal hit. Since then, a fever of Korean dramas quickly exploded in the neighboring countries such as Hong Kong, Taiwan and Vietnam. I still remember clearly how my mom and I excitedly waited every episode of The Autum Heart when I was a high school student. Everybody talked about Korean dramas; they became a hot topic gathering people together. 

Although most of these Korean shows have a noticeably banal formula of triangle love in which one of protagonists dies of cancer, Vietnamese viewers still wholeheartedly embraced because of its sentimental storylines and romance. Night after night my mom and I were crying for the harsh faith of the female character, a poor women in her twenty-something in The Autum Heart. We cried because of our impotence as Joyrich points out in his article. As viewers, we cannot help her out of the severe situation or even tell her lover about her disease as my mom wished. While the passivity made us annoyed, the suspension of the story offered us tremendous pleasure. “What is next?” was the question most discussed in our conversations. We guessed abilities that might happen to her. Then we were looking forward to the next episode to check them out. It should emphasize here that it is not only the suspension of pleasure attracting us to the show but also the pleasure of experiencing the pain of the female protagonist. Despite of being presented as a victim from the patriarchal perspective, the female character possesses the most valuable gift of life: the eternal love. It is this fantasy of being loved forever that maintains the pressure of viewing of female. By this, I would foster Williams’ argument that female viewers also share the pleasure of being object of sadistic male’s gaze rather than merely suffer it. Moreover, for most of Vietnamese female viewers who are unfamiliar with feminist ideas have been got used to the ideas of being passive in the norms of Confucian society, it is unlikely for them – back in the 1990s at least- to expect any subversion in the representations of gender on TV screen. Instead, they enjoy the illusion of being love at the cost of being passive that melodramas generously furnish. Mentioning this, I would emphasize the importance of cultural specificity in the assessment of pleasure.  

From the societal angle, it is the abilities to satisfy the desire of female viewers whose harsh lives sharply contrast with the comfortable lives represented in this genre that has filled up the  “wild fire” of Korean drama phenomenon. The representation of the glamorous city life in the Korean shows quickly attracted the Vietnamese viewers’ attention. It is worth noting that Vietnamese government had just accepted the policy of free market in 1986 and consumerism went along with capitalism to the country since then. Quickly but surely, Korean dramas -within the Korean government’s aim spreading Korean cultures over Asia has established the new conception of fashion standard-  Korean style in Vietnamese society. Everybody wanted to dress and make up just like Korean actors/actress. For over fifteen years, Made-in-Korea cosmetic products and Korean style –oriented fashions have been Vietnamese teens’ and even middle-aged women’s favorite. 

My comment did not intend to this length. What I wrote above is to elaborate on this week readings’ arguments on a fresher land, Korean dramas. I would like to on the one hand make use of the feminist theory; on the other, this take offers me a chance to look at the effects of the cultural specificity on the response toward melodrama genre.  

Far From Heaven: A Plastic Capsule Described as Pastiche

I have to start off by confessing that I am a huge fan of melodramas. Yes, I subscribe to the womanly "weepie" film-- often citing films such as Mildred Pierce or my favorite film of all time, Casablanca, as guilty pleasures. This is one of the reasons I appreciated Williams' article on the gratuitous nature of referring to these pleasure-seeking films as gratuitous. It's a complete baseless critique to call these films overtly emotional because that is where the audience derives pleasure from. (Williams, 728) These films are not viewed for their adherence to reality, but the spectacle of that reality being challenged. Williams cites Moretti: "Pathos is thus a surrender to reality, but it is a surrender that pays homage to the ideal that tried to wage war on it." (739)

In light of this, I was incredibly surprised to find that Far From Heaven (Haynes, 2002) did not yield that usual pleasure-filled-spectacle I am used to with this genre. I completely understand that this film is an homage to a time when these issues were first being addressed (and taking them past the euphemisms Willis describes within Sirk's films), but the post-modernist tendencies within the film almost make light of the issues being discussed.

Willis describes Haynes' homage to Sirk as "retrospectatorship" in terms of his adhering to the style of the great melodramatist through pastiche (literally frame-for-frame copying his opening scene), yet going even further by providing "false notes" that upset the popular image of the 50's familial unit (Frank embarrassing Cathy at the party, the complete disregard of the children). While I can appreciate the attention to detail and the extra steps Haynes takes to try and address these cultural issues that are still temporally relevant, the artificial container it comes within is a distraction from the real issue at hand.

Perhaps this seems contradictory to my praise of Williams earlier, but the "montage of memory" that creates a completely artificial world, as though we were in a dream-like trance, did not sit well. The canted angles to show the "off-ness" of the situation. The dissolves and fade-outs a recall of Classical Hollywood. It was almost plastic and thus allowed no actual emotional connection. Even Bernstein's soundtrack (the only saving grace with its simplicity) could not save the formalistic qualities of the film.

Another reason I couldn't connect with the film was because I was in no way connected with the protagonist, Cathy. It's as though we're supposed to assume as an audience that Cathy won't be progressive because she is a home caretaker in the 50's and are instantly supposed to change our minds when we see her support the NAACP and the friendship she develops with her African American gardener. Is she automatically progressive because of this? Not racist = good person / ahead of her time? Her life literally falls apart because her patriarchal world goes to pieces, but she can find a way to build herself up again because of her "progressiveness" in terms of race? The film is even self-reflexive about borrowing from a film that is self-reflexive in terms of utilizing race as a dramatic quality.

I think that though many of the issues addressed in Far From Heaven are still in existence today, the way in which they are presented -- using pastiche as a capsule -- simplify the issues. Yes, Haynes takes the extra step further than Sirk ever did, but it still falls flat in representation.

The Regressive Nature of Cathy in Far From Heaven

I agree with Kali’s post that the character of Cathy in Far From Heaven is quite regressive. The film addresses an array of sexual, cultural and racial differences. Frank, Cathy’s husband, is a closeted homosexual, and Raymond, Cathy’s gardener, deals with a plethora of racial issues including his daughter getting stoned by a group of white boys. However, in the end, life goes on for everyone except for Cathy, proving that the deepest cutting issue in the end lies in ones gender.

In the 1950’s, homosexuality and race were major issues that were looked down upon by many. However, by the end of the film, Frank is assumed to lead a happy life with his male lover, never questioned or caught by the ostracizing eyes of society. Raymond, too, is accepted by the black community, and when they turn against him after learning about his relationship with Cathy, he has the opportunity to leave and start a new life for himself and his daughter. Cathy, on the other hand, is not granted this opportunity. She cannot start a new life for herself because, while she is a very defiant woman, she is still a woman who must assume the role of a typical 50’s mother and housewife. No matter how much she has defied society by engaging in a relationship with Raymond, she cannot just abandon her children or her womanly duties. Additionally, she was never given the choice to stay with Frank. He was the one who declared that the marriage was over and wanted a divorce, despite Cathy’s pleas to try to make the marriage work.

While I do not think that Cathy is a progressive female character, I do think that this film is undoubtedly feminist. The portrayal of Cathy as a typical 50’s housewife and the conclusion that no matter how defiant she is of her gender role she is always stuck in it, gives the message that gender inequality is always among us, no matter how hard we try to defy it. Overall, the examples listed above prove that while there are many deep cutting issues that society faces, a woman’s role in society (something that is not looked as strongly upon today as issues of race and sexuality) is a deep cutting issue that must be carefully analyzed and reformed.   

Far From Heaven: Identity and Gender Issues

Pamela Chan

CTCS 412 Blog (Week 4)

As a filmmaker, Todd Haynes has been known to express the theoretical gap that feminist scholars filled for him as a young queer artist and a student. His critical approaches to feminism and gender issues have been present in most, if not all, of his critically acclaimed films, and are, unsurprisingly seen vividly in Far From Heaven.

All throughout the film, I couldn’t help but think about how Haynes’ melodrama powerfully visualizes and narrates many of the questions that Judith Butler’s theories of performativity have raised about the complex standards of socially constructed gender roles.

            The period piece displays the repressive and conformist character of the fifties-era. In a sense, the film juxtaposes the impossibilities of consummating an interracial romance to the seemingly impossible step of taking on a homosexual identity. For Cathy and Frank Whitaker, their social circle of whiteness, wealth, and heterosexuality are an implicit norm. Both, however, struggle with taboo desires that ultimately threaten their place within this privileged social structure. Through Cathy’s desire for Raymond and Frank’s own desire for men, Haynes introduces the twin themes of interracial romance and homosexuality in an era where these kinds of issues were considered truly deviant and extremely dangerous.

            With her work, Butler seems to argue that gender roles are performative identities created as a result of “compulsory performance.” She defines gender as “a set of repeated acts within a highly rigid regulatory frame,” that over time, seem to “produce the appearance of a substance, of a natural sort of being.” In this sense, the daily ‘performance’ each individual offers for society further establishes the deeply patriarchal ideals that continue to taint our understanding of gender and sexuality. Basically Butler reminds us that identity is something we demonstrate and act out—a sort of ‘performance’ we put on.

            A drunken Frank, for example, makes light of Cathy’s beauty, insisting, “It’s all smoke and mirrors.” Cathy replies with “Every girl has her secrets,” and this specific cocktail party exchange seems to further the ideas of appearance and performance within Haynes’ film. As a melodrama conceived in the feminist mode, Far From Heaven seems to be all about “smoke and mirrors.” Oppression and repression are concealed by the superficial-- the inner desires of both husband and wife are continuously suppressed by their consistent attempts to achieve a normal appearance. However, because of the world that surrounds them, both Cathy and Frank begin to encounter unwanted challenges regarding aspects of their own essential identities.

             Furthermore, society has invested much effort in keeping women confined within their respective roles—and Haynes poignantly displays Cathy’s position as a woman within a patriarchal society throughout the entire film. Being the embodiment of pure suburban domesticity, Cathy has nowhere to go and no way to escape once it becomes evident that the ideal she represents is all a sham. As a woman, she is the typical subject of judgment, and Haynes carefully portrays Cathy’s feelings of inadequacy and marginality within the world around her. For example, while with Raymond at a modern art show, she is not only stared at by the other women, but also by her neighbor’s gay uncles. At the African-American bar, the black people inside stare similarly at Cathy, and I believe this highlights on the often-contemptuous role held by the female sex.

          All in all, it was just really interesting to see how Haynes approached his 2002 award-winning film through such a unique frame of feminist film theory.

Authorship and "Blue is the Warmest Colour"

I've recently been wondering about the relationship between authorship and viewership in the way that we interpret feminist (and non-feminist) texts. I'm interested in whether a text can escape and/or transcend the design and intention of its maker(s). I briefly discussed this with our professor in the context of our exploration of pleasure in feminist cinema in relation to the recent Cannes Film Festival Palme D'or winner, "Blue is the Warmest Colour." The French film concerns the blossoming of two young adults' lesbian romance, and includes explicit depictions of female sexuality. It is based on a graphic novel by lesbian feminist writer, Julie Maroh. The film, however, is directed by a Tunisian-French man, Abdellatif Kechiche. "Blue is the Warmest Colour," the film, has been widely praised for its willingness to display desire not coded for cis-gendered heterosexual males, and yet it has also been accused of being voyeuristic in its prolonged sex scenes and lacking of a true lesbian perspective by none other than the original author herself. I've not yet seen the film myself, so I will reserve judgement, but I believe that there is some truth to the idea of an authenticity of experience that a presumably hetero-male couldn't quite show. I say all of this to say that there will be a free screening of "Blue is the Warmest Colour" on our campus at 7pm on Wednesday October 16. I've linked our SCA website's event page where you can RSVP if you're interested in attending. I've also linked an interview that Julie Maroh recently gave in which she discusses her identity as a feminist and as a queer person, and what she hopes to accomplish with her art.

http://cinema.usc.edu/events/event.cfm?id=13732

http://www.salon.com/2013/09/21/blue_is_the_warmest_color_author_im_a_feminist_but_it_doesnt_make_me_an_activist/singleton/

Far From Heaven

"Far From Heaven" was a very interesting film, particularly in terms of the subject of gender roles. Due to the preceding lecture, I found myself asking whether or not the portrayal of women was progressive. Cathy is the perfect wife and mother. She stays at the house throughout the day and welcomes home her working husband at night. When her perfect life hits a bump in the road and she finds her husband cheating on her with a man, everything is shaken up. She goes to therapy to try to turn him around and bring things back to the way they were, but it's hard to tell if this act is solely because she longs for his love again, of if she cares primarily about her reputation. When she throws the party at their house, she tries to paint a picture of the ideal American family and is clearly thrilled to receive compliments about what a perfect couple she and her husband are. Based on all of this criteria, the film is far from progressive. It simply displays a female doing a "woman's" job and then attempting to cover up her imperfections. On the contrary, the plot point with her African American gardener is definitely progressive. Here, Cathy stands up for what she believes in and doesn't conform to the differing opinions of those around her. However, this, too, turns around when the public finds out a bit more than Cathy wished, and she cuts Raymond out of her life until the end, when she is lost and alone and decides she wants him again. Because of all of the film's many layers and twists and turns, I would almost say that the portrayal of women is ambiguous, but when it all comes down to it, I really do think that Cathy is a stereotype and that nothing about her, in the end, is at all powerful.

Feminist approach and victimzed men

In “Women and representation: Can we enjoy alternative pleasure” Gaines examines the gaps between feminist approach in terms of suggesting a new relation of the gaze on screen and the pleasure of women- spectators. As Gaines points out, feminist film theory in an attempt to struggle for the equality of the sexual representation in mainstream cinema and television suggests an alternative representation of woman; rather than being represented as “to-be-looked-at” object, women should be the subject of the gaze. While film feminists have intellectually pursued the “correct” formula for film practice, it is the fact that women – averaged spectators- enjoy the traditional representation of themselves and are not ready for an alternative representation because the former has brought them pleasure. Therefore, Gaines concludes “the “correct’ formula for alternative feminist film practice, the rearrangement of the “relation of looking,” and the rejection of closure offer feminists a rather tight-lipped satisfaction.”

Gaines’s work productively engages with Negra and Tasker’s article, Neoliberal frames and genres of inequality. Their focus in this article is on the gender representations in the two sub-genre, recession – era chick flicks and male-centred corporate melodrama. In these genres, men are usually represented as victims; they are in economic and emotional crisis and ask women around them for help. The images of victimized men can be found in the two shows that we watched in class -  Ray in Hung and the nurse’s boyfriend in Parks and Recreation. Their redundancies are comically exploited in the favor of feminist senses. While enjoying the feminist quality in the representation of men as victims in these shows, I cannot help thinking that women like the poet and Ray’s wife in Hung and the nurse and Leslie are also victims because they have to “forced” to be heroes for men. To understand my feel, it might be helpful to turn to Gaines’ point: as a female spectator, I am not ready for the subversion of the representation of women; so I did not have the “pleasure” in its true sense when watching the shows.