Laughing Through My Anger: Some Theories Behind the Popularity of The Daily Show (and Infotainment Programming More Generally)

It would be an extreme understatement to say we are living through troubled times. Although, sadly, horrific events are common, the past few months have offered up more than their fair share. During the news coverage of the Boston Marathon Bombing, I was transported back to December - remembering the hours I spent crying over the Newtown Shooting. (I had just given birth to my second child; I watched the coverage with her in my arms unable to imagine what the parents of those lost children were going through). Hours after I had this stream-of-consciousness string of memories (linking the violence of the bombing to that of the shooting), I learned that the gun control legislation had failed to pass in any real form. Suddenly my sadness was turned to anger. And when I find that I'm angry about something news worthy, I know I have an entertainment outlet that makes me feel a little bit better: infotainment programming.

The visibility and growth of the infotainment genre on television during the 21^st century has, as of late, begun to spark academic discussion. An online poll conducted by TIME magazine in June of 2009 reported that Jon Stewart, the host Comedy Central’s The Daily Show (1996-present), was named the most trusted televised newscaster since Walter Cronkite. The following year, People reported that he had been voted the “most influential man of 2010.” This title was given to him just days before his political event, The Rally to Restore Sanity, drew over a quarter million people to the National Mall in Washington D.C. on October 30^th, 2010. This suggests that such programming, originally designed for comedic/entertainment purposes, is beginning to supplant traditional news media in interesting ways.

I’m particularly interested in this televisual genre’s evolution post-9/11 and how it connects to affect theory (the study of emotion). I argue that its popularity is largely due to the audience’s need to laugh through (or to displace) their anger toward the political powers-that-be during the first decade of the 21^stcentury. I also suggest that viewers may be drawn to such programming as a way of being enticed to actually experience negative affect and/or to feel emotionally bonded as part of an imagined community of sorts. Finally, in regard to The Daily Show specifically, I’m also interested in Stewart’s “performance” of anger, his satirical critiques of the media industry at large, and the implications of both.

It would be incorrect to credit 9/11 alone with the rise in popularity of the infotainment genre as it has a history that stretches far beyond the date of the national tragedy and results from over half a century of systematic changes in the news industry. Neil Postman first stimulated this conversation among academics with his seminal work, Amusing Ourselves to Death which highlighted how public discourse in the U.S. was assuming the form of entertainment programming. Reece Schonfeld, CNN’s first president, notes that in today’s television network world everything “has become worldwide and skin deep… Coverage splashes over everything and saturates nothing.” In a desperate attempt to reverse declining viewership rates, news itself has become “entertainment.” And while news was becoming entertainment… entertainment decided to get into the news business. Often with a heavy helping of satire to assist in this quest.

Amber Day, author of Satire & Dissent: Interventions in Contemporary Political Debate, goes as far as stating that programs like The Daily Show are contributing to a renaissance taking place in the realm of political satire (1). She argues that “the political discourse taking place in satiric register currently appears far more vibrant than any of the traditional outlets for serious political dialogue (Day 1). And the public seems to agree with these scholars. This might account for the fact that The Daily Show has not only won countless Emmys, but has received a Television Critics Association award, not for comedy, but for outstanding achievement in news and information, as well as two Peabody Awards for its election coverage, “Indecision 2000” and “Indecision 2004.”

Ratings can easily prove that the show is popular. My question moves beyond its popularity and asks what The Daily Show (or this genre more generally) does to/for viewers emotionally? Arguably, we all flock to TV to manipulate or modulate our emotions in some way or another. Larger powers try to do this for viewers, of course, as well, but I’d argue viewers themselves are using certain entertainment outlets to control their emotional states. This is not a profound or novel argument as everything we do for entertainment, arguably, is to modulate emotion (or more simply, usually, to create or maintain positive emotion). Arguments have been made in terms of other media along this line: people flock to the weepies (melodramas) to experience an emotional catharsis through viewing such sad films; adolescents rid themselves of aggression by playing violent video games; etc. My point is not to defend such claims, but to acknowledge that such have been made in the past and the basic tenet they rest upon – that we use entertainment objects for our own purposes (and often emotion-centered purposes) – seems sound. What I am arguing when analyzing popular televisual genres of the 21^stcentury is that they are linked in part to the cultural climate that has been created post-9/11. So here are a few theories on what The Daily Show, in particular, does for viewers’ emotional states.

Theory One: The Humor Relief Theory
The first way in which the program may be utilized aligns with a specific theory of humor:  the relief theory.  Psychologists have previously suggested that humor is a defense mechanism and that humor provokes a relief in one's fears.  (I would say it provides a relief from any number of negative affects more broadly).  Laughter has the power to convert negative affect into positive affect; comedic texts have the ability to act as affectual registers - altering emotional states at the consumer's will.  The strategic consumption of certain comedic televisual genres could then be seen as a coping mechanism wherein viewers choose to engage in humor to rid themselves of negative affects such as fear or anger.

In the case of The Daily Show, viewers are presented with images from the mainstream media that may spark the affects of fear and/or anger (among others).  These images are delivered in a satiric fashion (often cross-compared to other clips to point out absurdities and inconsistencies); sandwiched between Jon Stewart's comedic commentary; and preceded and followed by a humorous still image and pun-filled caption that boils the news story down to one witty punch line.  The negative affect as the laughter created from Stewart's delivery of it diffuses and displaces the original fear or anger.

Theory Two:  Affect Mimicry
My second explanation for why viewers tune into The Daily Show rests on research which suggests we often mirror the affects that we come into contact with.  We smile when others smile.  In fact, we often put ourselves into positive social situations in order to "catch" positive moods.  In episodes of The Daily Show, Stewart's expressions of anger are often seen in differing degrees.  Most of his satire is delivered with a sarcastic bent, his angry rants exaggerated for comedic purposes.  The issues that enrage Stewart the most, seemingly, receive the greatest amount of airtime and are often the targets for his most amplified performances of emotion.  An example of this would be the song and dance number titled "Fox News, Go Fuck Yourselves" he did after a back-and-forth media war with Fox News pundit, Bernard Goldberg.  (Goldberg went on air telling Stewart:  "if you want to be a funny man who talks to a crowd who will laugh at anything you say, that's fine by me - no problem.  But clearly you want to be a social commentator more than just a comedian.  But if you want to be a good one you're going to have to grow some guts... you're not nearly as edgy as you think you are."  Goldberg was criticizing Stewart for not being as hard on his liberal guests (in terms of generalizing statements about the opposing political camp) as he was on Fox news and the conservative base).  Stewart clearly wanted to give this issue attention, as the 11-minute muscial number (including a full gospel choir) indicates.  Skits like this aim to grab the viewer's attention -- getting them to attend not just to his comical performances but to the issue at hand that inspired it.  The more "visible" his anger, the more it appears he wants the viewer to share in it.  But at times, the comdey and performance aspects of the show drop away and viewers see a moment of non-performative, real anger from the host.  In these rare times when he is truly enraged, and visibly angry, his straight man persona is dropped and he often addresses the camera in fiery earnest.  Witnessing these varying levels of anger arguably produces comparable levels of anger within the viewing audience at home who empathizes with Stewart. 

My argument would be that while some may turn to The Daily Show and other infotainment programs to be distracted from their fear or anger - to rid themselves of such negative affect - that some may very well turn to the program in order to feel these very same negative feelings.  In a time that might be desensitizing us to such emotions, to a degree, through the constant bombardment of negative imagery and fearful rhetoric, viewers may turn to a show like The Daily Show in order to be enticed to feel something whatsoever.  They may be drawn to the text in the hope that they will encounter moments of such "real" anger; they may long to find someone expressing the anger that they are not. 

Theory Three: Imagined Communities
A third emotion-driven reason that viewers may turn to infotainment is to be part of an imagined community joined by the same opinions and feelings about the current cultural climate.  Benedict Anderson first coined this term, conceptualizing how imagined communities helped to form "a deep, horizontal comradeship" that sustained the nation-state.  He argued that the advent of newspaper publications complete with the date in the upper corner provided people with a connection to one another.  People would pick up the newspaer and know that somewhere in their country, millions of others were sharing in that particular moment, in the shared experience of reading that same newspaper edition.  In a different way, this may be at work for television viewers today.  In many ways viewers of The Daily Show know who other viewers of the program are - or they assume they do:  like minded individuals, likely liberal leaning democrats.  They expect that the viewership will share their own opinions (and those of Stewart's likely) as well as their own emotions.  Part of the draw of watching a program such as this is being part of a specific in-group; it allows one not to feel alone in times that might otherwise seem isolating.  Unlike Anderson's readers who were all reading the newspaper at the same time, Stewart's viewers are not necessarily watching at the same time or even through the same medium (as many will watch the show on delay, view it through YouTube or Hulu clips, or download it off of Comedy Central's own website), but they still can imagine someone else sitting somewhere (before a flatscreen television, a computer terminal, a smartphone) viewing the same materials and feeling the same way:  laughing at the same media images, being angered by the same political misdoings, and so forth. 

Conclusion
In the days following the September 11th attacks, a variety of people - such as Graydon Carter, the editor of Vanity Fair, and Roger Rosenblatt of Time Magazine - lined up to declare the end of the age of irony.  People believed that irony would have to die in order for the seriousness of this current situation to be fully comprehended.  But irony did not die.  On the contrary, irony - criticized as it often is for its political inefficiency - seems to have saved the day, working toward surprising political aims.  Irony also seems to have risen to another task; as the choice form of news dissemination for a large number of people, it has become a way of having control over the emotions that such news content sparks within them - especially in a time when viewers feel they have rather little control over the cultural climate that news stems from.  This explains my love for the show.  When the world provides news that makes me especially angry, I can work through it by watching it reenacted and critiqued by Jon Stewart and his crew.

 

Getting My Music Fix... on My Television?: Some Thoughts on NBC's Smash, ABC's Nashville, & More

Confession:  I’m a former choir girl.  I danced around stage while singing show tunes in glittery outfits, strolled down many a wintery street singing Christmas carols, and have brought tears to the eyes of many singing a beautiful Aria.  (Okay, I’m lying about the latter.  While I’ve sang an aria or two, I have never done one solo, so I can’t really claim to have had that effect.  My only two solos consist of a song from The Secret Garden and a Motown hit).  I credit this history with the fact that a large chunk of my television viewing is connected to music in some way or another.  If the sheer number of music-themed programs are any indication, I would guess that having such a background is not a prerequisite for enjoying them since a great many people out there are watching them.

I credit American Idol with spawning the various singing competition shows that came after it:  The Voice, X Factor, Rock Star, Nashville Star, Making the Bands, Duets, The Singing Bee, The Glee Project, etc.  While some of these have been more successful than others, the genre as a whole is still doing well despite over population.  These shows require a great time investment, often airing 2-3 times a week (consisting of competition nights and results nights), so I can usually only watch one such program at a time.  (This is why I’ve yet to see The Voice as it overlaps with American Idol.  I’m a loyalist even though I think the show has suffered every year since Simon Cowell’s departure, much more so this year having lost Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler from the judging panel).  Every year I prepare to drop these shows but feel the pull to be in the cultural “know” – aware of who the next big flash in the pan is.  But even so, perhaps I’m getting burnt out on these  reality shows because this year, although I’m happy that the final five contestants on American Idol are women, and there’s even one I like quite a bit, I find myself fast forwarding through most of the episodes.

However, I find myself spellbound when watching the various music-orientated dramas that exist in the current network lineups.  For this I credit Fox’s Glee (2009-present).  In an intelligent essay, “The Television Musical:  Glee’s New Direction,” Jack Harrison ponders why Glee found success in this contemporary moment.  He notes:

Television has, of course, always included music. Talent contests like The Gong Show (NBC, 1976-1978), televised music videos on channels like MTV, and, perhaps most notably, variety shows like The Ed Sullivan Show (CBS, 1948-1971) have played major roles in television history. However, up until this point, narrative fiction punctuated by break out song and dance numbers has primarily been restricted to film and stage… Serial musical has rarely been attempted and has almost never been successful. There have been a few examples of failed musical TV shows, most notably 1990’s Hull High (NBC) and Cop Rock (ABC), neither of which aired more than eleven episodes. And even in film and on stage, musical sequels have almost always flopped.

One of the reasons behind Glee’s popularity, according to Harrison, can be tied to the Internet-Television coalition that exists in this post-post modern age.  Television programs no longer exist within a bubble, they are connected to other texts and commodities and the music programs lend themselves to this especially well.  TV always existed to encourage us to buy products (those advertised in ads) but now it also encourages us to buy items related to the television show itself.  In this case: songs. 

Recordings of Glee’s songs have been sold on CDs and as digital downloads on iTunes. Because of this, thirteen million copies of digital singles have been downloaded, and as of 2009, the show had already had twenty-five singles chart on the Billboard Hot 100, the second highest number in history next to the Beatles. (Harrison)

This type of music purchasing is promoted in the singing competitions discussed earlier, but even non-music focused dramas are encouraging viewers to download the soundtrack to various episodes.  This is just one more way the music industry, like the television industry, is changing in this new technological era.

But I’m not quite sure that this explains why suddenly music is big on TV.  Is it just a fluke?  Is it because these music-themed shows are a bit campy and right now in the post-9/11 era we all could use lighter programming to balance out the vast array of grim, post-apocalyptic, terror-focused shows?  Perhaps.  Whatever the reason, I find these shows to be delightful.  So I’m going to discuss two of them.

NBC’s Smash (2012-present) debuted last year and focused on the making of a Broadway musical about Marilyn Monroe.  It stars Katharine McPhee (a former runner-up on American Idol), Debra Messing, and Anjelica Huston.  As a melodrama, the plot is very soapy – full of love triangles, affairs, backstabbing, blackmail, and more.  This year Jennifer Hudson (another former American Idol finalist) joined the cast and the plot opened up to be more about the theatre community more broadly as competing Broadway productions are being featured.  Like Glee, this show follows a traditional “musical” set-up.  It has music when music makes sense (at shows, rehearsals, auditions) but it also uses song as a way to show interior thoughts and dream sequences.  Since I’m a fan of musicals I love this aspect of the show but critics have been harsh on this stylistic.  I love it all:  the plot, the music, the acting.  It’s loads of fun and I find myself as mesmerized as I am when I sit in a live theatre watching a musical unfold.  But I might soon face disappointment since the ratings have suffered after the show moved to Saturdays this season.  Renewal appears unlikely.

ABC’s Nashville (2012-present) debuted this Fall and is a different type of music-themed show.  While every episode provides viewers with song, it is not in the musical vein.  This program also has some sudsy qualities.  In article for TV Guide, Matt Rouch described as “a country-fied ‘All About Eve’ pitting  vetran diva Connie Britton against scheming crossover upstart Hayden Panettiere,” calling the show “a Grand Ole Soap Opry.”  With mistaken paternity, corporate corruption, and scandalous love affairs, the soap descriptor is fitting.  But melodramatic moments aside, the acting and singing are terrific, the characters are compelling, and there are endless plot possibilities with its behind-the-scenes of the music industry set-up.  And, unlike Smash, its ratings are high and renewal is likely.

I’m not sure why America is digging music on the small screen as of late but I like it because with my remote in hand I can imagine it’s a microphone and sing along with the divas on the screen, I can transport back to my glory days on the stage (of high schools and community theaters), and I can live vicariously through the fictional exploits of those who made music the main part of their lives, and not just a passing fancy reflected upon in a quirky blog post.

Why There Will Never Be Another Program Like LOST on Network TV (and Why I Need a New Career Focus)

Last month I attended the National Popular Culture Conference in Washington D.C. and took part in many conversations about the state of television.  It’s both an exciting and a terrifying time to be a television scholar.

The televisual landscape has changed right before our eyes and many of us have probably never really stopped to really think about just how different thing are now compared to even a few years ago.  When I was a child television was revolutionalized with the advent of the remote control and the VCR.  These two inventions provided viewers with a freedom they had never had before.  The remote control brought about the ability to channel surf (leaving one untethered to a network’s pre-planned line-up) and the VCR provided viewers with the freedom to escape the constraints of pre-assigned viewing times.  Around the same time came cable and soon viewers had not only these technological gadgets that allowed them to manipulate their viewing experiences, but a whole lot more to consider when personalizing that viewing experience:  more channels meant more options.

Fast forward to the 21^st century.  The number of stations one has to choose from in the cable and satellite age is staggering.  DVRs have replaced VCRs allowing for a made-for-me television experience like none before (providing viewers with much more storage space than the VCR that came before it).  Television programs have been topping film sales in the DVD/BlueRay market, and watching television in box sets has brought about the practice of “binge viewing” (watching an entire season or series at one time, providing a completely different experience free of the delayed gratification found from waiting out a network’s intentional cliffhangers and tentative dénouements).   It’s also not just the networks and normal cable stations churning out the programming, now providers are launching their own shows (Direct TV just premiered their new program, Rogue, this past month) and Netflix is creating new programs for their customers (e.g. House of Cards) and bringing back old programs (e.g. Arrested Development).  Besides for how and what we watch, where and on what we watch is different in this age also.  We almost shouldn’t say we’re “watching TV” anymore because often times we are watching programs on our computers (by means of Hulu plus and the like), or streaming them to our iPads and Smart Phones for consumption on the go.

While all of these possibilities have been great for the average viewer, they have dismayed network producers.  The old model of television watching envisioned the stationary viewer watching a program (or series of programs) on a network station like ABC, NBC, or CBS.  This viewer, ideally, would sit nicely on his couch and not only watch the program at hand, but also the commercials in between and the promotional spots before and after the show.   The point was never to provide the masses with free television programming but to use that programming as a way to sell products.  It was the commercials we were supposed to watch.  Since many people rarely watch television live and skip commercials when watching on delay, or watch the programs online with different advertisements, or watch much later on DVD without any advertisement whatsoever, this means that networks are having a harder time finding advertisers to back certain programs.  Knowing that all of these variables are at play, networks are needing either convincingly popular shows (that will still draw big advertising dollars) or cheap productions (e.g. reality television, talk shows, game shows).  This environment has hurt certain genres (e.g. soap operas) and has caused the networks to gamble less on new programs.  As a result primetime dramas on network television are suffering.

In my research I’ve always focused primarily on network television – perhaps because of the legacy behind it, because of its reach, or because I’m cheap and don’t pay for premium channels like HBO and Showtime (but do fork out the dollars for Netflix so I can watch their programming a season behind everyone else!)  I’ve never thought I was missing out by studying shows on ABC, NBC, CBS, or Fox – I felt I had a lot of great shows to choose from.  And I still think that.  The mass popularity of ABC’s Lost (2004-2010) reinforced my belief that network television could be just as smart and innovative (and cinematic) as cable shows.  I loved that the network let the writers of Lost do their thing – creating a complicated narrative that stretched over six years – even (at the end) at the expense of some viewers.  The (forensic) fandom that Lost inspired made networks greedy for more “smart” television shows and when it went off the air in 2010 many were pitched as being the “next Lost” (some explicitly).  And now, three years later, I still know at the start of every season which network show is trying, and failing, to earn that honor. 

To be clear, I don’t think it’s for lack of good ideas.  All of the shows that were trying to be what Lost was had great potential.  I was devastated when ABC’s FlashForward was canceled in 2010 after just one season.  The show was about a worldwide blackout where people lost consciousness for minutes and saw glimpses into their futures.  The first season was a countdown to that foreseen future and the theme of fate vs. free will (familiar to Lost loyalists) played out well as viewers watched to see if those destinies would pan out or if people still had some control of their lives.  The final episode mapped out (literally – there was a drawing on a wall) the next six years of these blackouts up to a final “end day.”  I was excited thinking that it meant the show had a purposeful six year arc and looked forward to watching it unravel.  And then it was not renewed. 

The following year NBC launched The Event (2010-2011) which also only lasted one season.  The premise was interesting (although the characters and acting left something to be desired).  It was a story about a government cover up of an alien landing (an entire community had been imprisoned for decades with others from their population living undetected – despite not aging – within human cities).  It used the Lost-trademark of the flashback devise to help with backstory and character development.  I was disappointed (but not surprised) when it was canceled because it could have gone somewhere interesting.

This past year two more Lost-like shows hit the network airwaves.  In the fall NBC debuted Revolution, another creation by J.J. Abrams.  It tells the story of the aftermath of a global blackout that leaves the world without electricity.  This futuristic United States is divided into various warring territories and amidst the dystopic backdrop of crumbling landmarks (e.g. a decimated Wrigley Field is one of the earlier buildings we see) life carries on with communities living as they would have in the age of the Revolutionary War. But, it’s more complicated than it might seem.  The main characters hold the key to renewing the world’s electricity and the tyrannous leader of the region will stop at nothing to get that power (which would lead to world domination).  There are many nods to Lost that Abrams fans will pick up on.  Besides for the flashback device, certain scenes seem to allude to the ancestor text (e.g. the ancient computing systems that underground scientists use to communicate with one another conjure up the computers within the various Dharma stations on the island).  Although things could change in a few weeks when the cancelation announcements come out, as of now the ratings for Revolution are strong enough for it to make it to season two. 

The other new Lost-like show of this year, ABC’s well advertised Zero Hour, only lasted three episodes before cancelation.  I really enjoyed the premise and was extremely disappointed when it was canceled.  (In truth it was this cancelation that sparked this particular blog post).  I described this show, having foolishly encouraged people to watch it, as National Treasure meets TV.  It focused on a man racing around the world, deciphering clues to find his abducted life and stumbling upon a secret that will alter history (and perhaps endanger mankind).  With flashbacks to Nazi Germany and references to the “new Apostles” who had gone to great measures keep something powerful from Hitler, the mystery behind the program was quite involved and intriguing.  But apparently I was one of the few that thought so.

This issue that all of these shows have is that they are striving for the narrative complexity of Lost but trying to avoid what Lost did – alienate fans by making them wait too long for answers.  (Some also credit Lost’s increasing complexity in seasons four, five, and six – as the show went from the present/flashback model to that of flashforwards and flashsideways and all sorts of temporal disruption – as having lost viewers).  However, in trying to walk this fine line, new shows are moving storylines along too quickly – forcing action and answers rapidly down viewers’ throats – which, apparently, is just as unappealing as letting the narrative carrot dangle too long. 

As an English teacher I know all too well the typical plot diagram and I believe it makes a narrative work:  exposition provides necessary backstory (and allows us to invest in characters), the inciting action provides us with the initial conflict and “hooks” us into the storyline, the rising action slowly builds suspense, the much awaited climax is the big pay off we wait for, and the falling action and resolution quickly tie the narrative up and leave us with a sense of closure.  This works particularly well for novels and films.  However, for a television season that will stretch out for 20-some hours and a series that might stretch out for multiple years, this is harder to follow.  Instead a drama should have one overarching narrative that follows that plot diagram to a degree, but within it should be a series of smaller staggered plot diagrams that rise and fall with various sub-plots, episodes, and seasons.  The impatience of network television today means that shows are never allowed to linger long in those early plot “stages.”  While we expect the first few chapters of a book to be set-up, television shows are not given that luxury.   If your pilot is all exposition – you’re dead in the water.  But if you jump straight to a climax of sorts, you haven’t done the necessary work to invest your viewers.  It seems to be a lose-lose situation at present so I don’t envy television writers.

So the result of this is that the networks keep waiting for the magic show that will land them big numbers and bring back the era of “must see TV” and “water cooler” conversations.  And they keep failing.  Every season another new set of dramas start and stop.  Meanwhile, the cable shows (and not just the pay stations – think of the success of AMC’s Mad Men and Walking Dead and PBS’s Downton Abbey) are dominating the ratings.  With better funding coming their way they are able to take more risks with shows and give shows longer to develop and draw in crowds.  (They also do a plethora of other smart tactics that networks can’t do – like airing their programs in multiple timeslots, holding viewing marathons of previous seasons before a show returns for a new season to garner new viewers).  As a consequence of all of this, for the first time ever, no network program was nominated in the category of “Best Drama” at the last Emmy Award Ceremony.  That is telling.

What does all of this mean?  Well for me it means I should change my research focus, stop analyzing primarily network shows, and stop waiting for the next Lost to appear.  (I need to fight the urge to be like Jack crying out “We have to go back!”). And for me, and others, it means we should invest a lot less time in the new shows that the major networks are releasing each fall and winter because chances are we’re simply wasting hours of our lives (and DVR space) on narratives that will never reach resolution.

Hollywood Goes Self-Help: The Implications Behind This New Wave of Adaptation Films

The past two decades have seen an increase in the popularity of traditional self-help literature and various scholars have theorized why this contemporary cultural moment has found American consumers so interested in self-improvement, prescriptive how-to-manuals, and the overall "Do-It-Yourself" mindset that align with both.   (The self-help industry has recently reached an all time high, pulling in over 12 billion dollars in 2012 alone).  Aligned with this explosion of standard self-help texts has been the tendency for entertainment products (fictional books, television, and films) to take on a self-help angle.  In fact, a great many texts that have started out as self-help products have been converted into films, making them a sort of quasi-self-help/entertainment hybrid product.  (A recent example would be the 2012 film What to Expect When You’re Expecting).    However, long before this recent trend of self-help-going-Hollywood, I’d been thinking that romantic comedies have been serving in that type of role:  assisting in the social construction of gender behavior and informing men and women on how to date/mate (often in problematic ways).

Here are a few examples:  Released in 1996, Swingers is a staple of this genre.  The plot follows a group of unemployed actors navigating the dating scene.  Trent (played by Vince Vaughn) acts as the dispenser of advice instructing Mike (Jon Favreau), a recent Los Angeles transplant, how to pick up women.  The film is known for its infamous list of dating rules (there are fifteen in total), such as the “three day rule” (how long a man should wait before calling a girl who has given him her number).  The idea of “how to” successfully (or unsuccessfully) navigate the dating field is often highlighted in the titles of films themselves.  An example would be the 2003 film, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.  In this movie, a magazine writer, Andie (played by Kate Hudson) sets out to write an article about her experience of purposely driving a way a man, Ben (played by Matthew McConaughey), by using the classic mistakes women make in relationship.  Another example is the The Ugly Truth, which suggests there is a “truth” to be learned about successful male/female romantic courtships.  The story centers around Abby (played by Katherine Heigl), a morning show TV producer (and avid reader of self-help books) who ultimately seeks out relationship advice from her cynical, misogynistic on air personality, Mike Chadway (Gerald Butler).

The films I find the most intriguing, however, are those that actually base their contents (and titles) around actual dating self-help books.  Released in 2009, He's Just Not That Into You is an American romantic comedy based on the self-help book of the same name written by Sex in the City writers, Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo.  This ensemble film stars Ben Affleck, Jennifer Aniston, Drew Barrymore, Jennifer Connelly, Bradley Cooper, Ginnifer Goodwin, Justin Long, and Scarlett Johansson (among others).  The plot focuses on nine young twenty-somethings in Baltimore struggling with various romantic problems.  The central storyline features Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin), who constantly misinterprets the behaviors of the men she is dating, deluding herself into believing there is romantic potential where there is none.  While getting stood up on one of these dates she befriends Alex, a local bar owner, who ultimately teaches her the strategies that men use to avoid women, pointing out the ways in which she has been obsessing over imagined signs she receives from men.  In this film Alex is channeling the author’s of the ancestor text.  The message behind Behrendt and Tuccillo’s book is simple:  “If the guy you’re dating doesn’t seem to be completely into you, or you feel the need to start ‘figuring him out,’ please consider the glorious thought that he might just not be that into you. And then free yourself to go find someone that is.”

In their book they try to put an end to the excuse-making that many women get sucked into when it comes to men.   They write:  

If he’s not calling you, it’s because you are not on his mind. If he creates expectations for you, and then doesn’t follow through on little things, he will do same for big things. Be aware of this and realize that he’s okay with disappointing you. Don’t be with someone who doesn’t do what they say they’re going to do. If he’s choosing not to make a simple effort that would put you at ease and bring harmony to a recurring fight, then he doesn’t respect your feelings and needs. “Busy” is another word for “asshole.” “Asshole” is another word for the guy you’re dating. You deserve a fucking phone call.

In the film Alex gets to touch on two of these motifs at various moments while dispensing advice to Gigi.  In response to her musings on why a guy hasn’t called Alex responds pragmatically:  “If a guy doesn’t call you, he doesn’t want to call you.”  At another point, while arguing that it could be more complicated than that, Gigi argues:  “Maybe his grandma died or maybe he lost my number or is out of town or got hit by a cab.”  To which Alex responds:  “Or maybe he is not interested in seeing you again.” 

The film touches on the “be wary of the ‘I’m busy’” response through a different scene.  While on a date Gigi calls Alex to ask for more advice:

            Gigi:  Hey sorry to bug you gain!  Uh, quick question.

            Alex:  What’s going on?

            Gigi:  Okay, I’m making out with this guy, PG stuff.  But he mentions he’s going out of

            town so he’s gonna be out of touch.

            Alex:  Run.

            Gigi:  But maybe he is going out of town.

            Alex:  To where?  New Guinea?  Where’s he gonna be that he’s gonna be out of touch?

            Gigi: (Opens the bathroom door to ask the man behind it):  Where are you going out of

            town to again?

            Gigi (back on the phone):  Pittsburgh.

            Alex:  Run.

            Gigi:  So what now?  I’m just supposed to turn from every guy who doesn’t like me

            Alex:  Uh, yeah.

            Gigi:  There’s not gonna be anybody left.

While Alex often relays his advice in a harsh manner, the original text (in the fashion of self-help) does so with much more sugar coating.   Behrendt and Tuccillo note that they are “tired of seeing great women in bullshit relationships” and tell women “Don't waste the pretty.”  Their intended self-confidence building, uplifting prose is littered with pet names and thickly applied flattering adjectives.  Take this rah-rah moment where they urge their female readers to stop chasing dead end relationships and shoot for higher standards

Let’s start with this statistic: You are delicious. Be brave, my sweet. I know you can get lonely. I know you can crave companionship and sex and love so badly that it physically hurts. But I truly believe that the only way you can find out that there’s something better out there is to first believe there’s something better out there. What other choice is there?”

Ignoring the fact that being delicious is not a statistic, and is a bit degrading as a descriptor, the overall content of the message is not necessarily problematic but I’d argue the tone certainly is. (In fact, I would argue this in regard to all self-help books as they tend to infantilize readers, especially female readers).  While there is nothing wrong with telling someone to be brave, or in acknowledging how feelings of loneliness can spark detrimental behavior, much of this message loses its effect with the addition of the unnecessary address of “my sweet.”

There is only one point in the film where Gigi herself gets to channel the authors of this text in a relatively empowering scene.  She has this monologue which is lifted directly from the pages of He’s Just Not That Into You:

Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope. 

The problem with this speech within the film is its interpretation of the final line “Or maybe the happy ending is… that you never gave up hope.”  In the book it is pretty obvious that the authors mean that you never gave up on the hope of finding love.  However, in the film this idea of never giving up hope seems to mean never giving up on a given person despite the miscues, missteps, and mishaps.  (Which is the message of most romantic comedies).

In fact, the film actually goes against the premise of the book when Gigi talks back to Alex (the narrative stand in for the authors’ point of view).  Gigi says:

I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much but at least that means I still care. Oh!  You think you won because women are expendable to you.  You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way but you don’t fall in love that way either. You have not won.  You’re alone.  I may do a lot of stupid shit but I’m still a lot closer to love than you are. 

In this scene Gigi claims that all of the “stupid shit” well documented in Behrendt and Tuccillo’s book actually lead to love (which goes completely against their thesis).   

The ending of the romantic comedy further debunks the message of their book.  The storyline of Gigi and Alex follows the typical rom-com formula:  the meet cute in the bar, the battle-of-the-sex comical banter, a friendship that slowly reveals romantic undertones, an obstacle that prevents an easy union, and the prerequisite happy ending.  In the film it is Gigi who first falls for Alex; she is rejected; she moves on; he then realizes the error of his way, returns, and wins her heart.  So while Behrendt and Tuccillo would argue that once writing is on the wall that someone is just not into you – that you should move on because you won’t get your happily ever after, the film sends the message that you might still get that twist ending if you just wait long enough.

A secondary storyline within the film also undoes the message Behrendt and Tuccillo sought to deliver.  Beth (played by Jennifer Anniston) is frustrated that her long term boyfriend, Neil (played by Ben Affleck), won’t propose marriage.  She eventually breaks up with him (acknowledging that he won’t give her what she needs).  Had their plot ended there it would have aligned with Behrendt and Tuccillo’s call to find comfort in being alone instead of hoping for change that won’t happen in a go-nowhere relationship.  But, their story does not end there.  Like Alex, Neil realizes the error of his ways and at the end returns to Beth (who, realizing what a great guy he is, says she doesn’t need the proposal to be happy).  But this is Hollywood – so, of course, she gets it, and one of the final scenes of the film is of their wedding ceremony.  In fact, besides for the two characters who committed adultery (note the didacticism here), every character is happily paired in a romantic partnership by the end of the movie.  An accurate rendition of the self-help book would have found the majority of the characters (if not all of them) un-partnered, not “wasting the pretty,” finding solace in the fact that it’s better to be alone waiting for someone who truly deserves them.

The problem I have with the narratization of self-help books, or more accurately their mutation into romantic comedies, is that they send conflicting messages.  In order to conform to the genre requirements, they do what all romantic comedies do and rest upon predictable tropes, characters, and outcomes.  They portray women and men in stereotypical roles and sell the hope of a happily ever after (even if the guy is a cad because surely a woman can always change the man she loves). In borrowing the title of the self-help books and a few structural motifs, these films falsely imply that they are more similar to their ancestor texts than they are.  So, a viewer of Kwapis’s He’s Just Not That into You, having enjoyed the happy outcome of the film, may turn to the self-help aisle to seek out Behrendt and Tuccillo’s original text which will, unbeknownst to them, contain a very different message.  And while it is problematic in and of itself that our entertainment formats are already serving a pseudo self-help role – instructing us on culturally expected behavior, it seems all the more troubling that they are also directing consumers to become more seeped in this self-help culture through their connections to this ever-expanding publishing genre.

Ah, maybe I’m just being grumpy.  Perhaps I should dust off my copy of Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus, write up a screen play for it, and capitalize on this growing trend.  Oh wait, I can’t, it’s already in production…