Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Blue Man Group?: Masculinity in Avatar

My initial trepidations concerning Avatar--which arose from an active dislike of action films, James Cameron and ambiguous moral messages--dissipated while watching the film. I was enraptured by the visionary aesthetics of the work, including Cameron's imaginative rendering of all factors of Pandora, as well as the emotionally turbulent plot. My delight even stretched further to the gorgeous Native American flute-laden soundtrack. Although the notions of racial and scientific ineptitude certainly remained in my mind they were pushed to the periphery by the sheer enjoyability of Cameron's film. Yet, while my anxiety surrounding these issues was suspended another made its hefty way to the forefront: the troubling treatment of masculinity in Avatar.

Throughout the film masculinity, while not necessarily equated with maleness, is conflated with aggression and violence.Two male characters, Colonel Quaritch and Parker Selfridge, revel in their masculine control; a position that is never directly challenged. Quaritch, a vision of exaggerated military machismo, actively denigrates the efforts of the scientists on Pandora by challenging their masculinity (although I cannot find the quote I believe he refers to them as pussies or something to that effect). Similarly Selfridge, the golfing, capitlalistic head of the operation, reinforces the hegemonic ideal of masculinity by backing Quartich's efforts and defining the operation as purely economically  motivated--he reminds Grace that they are on Pandora for nothing more than the extraction of unobtainium not her maternalistic experiments. Though these men are eventually castigated their depictions of gender are never questioned as no one refers to them in a feminine way. Dr. Grace, although biologically female, is also designated as masculine when she acts pugnaciously. Following a barking of orders to Norm he refers to the doctor as "the man" and immediately complies with her commands. Norm himself, however, is never refereed to in this manner, as he only exhibits intellectual, and non-belligerent, predilections. Even Jake Sully, the handicapped ex-marine, is demasculinized after he attempts to defend the Na'vi; Quaritch's declaration "I'm gettin all emotional, 'might just give you a big wet kiss!" symbolizes his feminine presence. When relinquishing his male human body, and thus relationally (at least according to Cameron) his combativeness and fury, Jake literally and metaphorically is removed from manhood. In a world where power structures motivated by the aggressive and possessive conceptions of masculinity results in numerous rapes, wars and indignities Cameron's depiction of male gender attributes is inherently frightening and flawed.

Foucault in Space: Sexual Repression in "Amok Time"

As everyone with somewhat of an interest in Star Trek knows "Amok Time" is the one about Spock and sex: the episode that is an integral element of  contemporary lore and mystique within the Star Trekverse. Armed with a superficial knowledge of the show, culled from discussions with a housemate who is an active Kirk/Spock shipper, I was excited to finally watch the episode she marks as her favorite of the series. Yet, during my active viewing of the episode I was deeply disappointed by one unnerving aspect: the startling lack of conversation around sexuality. Still, with the current emphasis on Spock and desire, it is evident that sex has retained an importance in the context of the episode.  It seems then that "Amok Time", and Star Trek in general, is not only an illustration of early science fiction television but also a representation of the convoluted sexual-cultural mores of the period in which it was created.

Michel Foucault, in his famous three-volume work The History of Sexuality, details the construction of modern sexuality during the Victorian period of the nineteenth century. Focusing on what he terms "the repressive hypothesis" Foucault examines the use of rhetoric to stigmatize frank discourse around sex and relocate it into the normative realm of heterosexual reproduction. He argues that although this ideological shift leads to the castigation of those outside of sexual strictures it also allows for the constitution of a sexual identity; hence repression breeds construction. Given the conception of "Amok Time" in the years immediately following the neo-Victorian age of the 1950s Spock's hesitation to reveal his erotic yearnings and the absence of explicit mention of sexuality is unsurprising. Nevertheless the inference of reproduction in the show, thankfully, permits the envisioning of Spock's character in terms of his procreative agency. Evasive or not, the thematic rendering of sensuality in "Amok Time" makes Spock a sexual being and empowers modern speculations surrounding his orientation (even though we all know he and Kirk were snogging behind the captain's chair).

“I Don’t Think That Kid’s Dangerous:” Monsters Inc. and Multiculturalism

While watching Disney/Pixar’s film Monster’s Inc. one is amused by the premise of a world of monsters that are afraid of small human children. We as viewers are titillated by the inversion of traditional fantasy tropes that pit children against unknown horrors and relish in the contemporary feel of such an idea. Yet we are also taken aback by the absurdity of such a situation in which we instill fear in the creatures of our nightmares and question what we possess that could do such a thing. The answer, of course, is a very simple one: difference. The monsters in the film are terrified of children because they make presumptions based on difference that shape their notions of the children and their capabilities; the terror this deed creates is only counteracted by the engaged obtainment of knowledge. Thus Monsters Inc. functions not only as an animated children’s film but as a narrative of burgeoning multicultural enlightenment and acceptance.

At the film’s start the inhabitants of Monstropolis, the aptly named reality in which the monsters dwell, are horridly xenophobic. They believe human children to be deadly, toxic upon the slightest touch. Like overseers on a cotton plantation or present-day rural farmers the monsters exploit children for their resources—here screams that fuel the entirety of the city rather than menial hard labor—while simultaneously removing themselves from any connection with them. The monsters punish those who (even unknowingly) associate with children by calling a 2319, an announcement that alerts the Child Detection Agency and results in horrible treatment of colleagues and close friends, or banishing the perpetrators to the human world. This form of “othering” based on inter-species domination and interaction mirrors that of non-white and non-First World individuals in postmodern society: an example being the current furor over the border between the United States and Mexico based on “patriotic” ideals of citizenship that exclude the millions of dollars owed to illegal, unskilled immigrant workers. This policy of prohibition changes when Boo, with the characteristic intuition of an infant, enters Monstropolis and, through her actions, teaches Sulley, Mike and the other monsters the value of proper cultural exchange.

Though initially apprehensive about contact with Boo Sulley (played by John Goodman) begins to warm to the little girl after a hectic day of touting her around the titular business. Forgetting the stigma of his culture he plays hide-and-seek with the small girl, for which he is reprimanded by his best friend Mike (Billy Crystal), frets about her disappearance and mourns her perceived death by garbage compactor. Sulley even becomes so attached to Boo, following the realization that her difference is not harmful, that he treks back to Monster Inc. headquarters after his banishment to save her from serving as lab rat for an experiment aimed at raising decreasing scream efficiency. Although it takes slightly longer Mike too has the revelation that children are not harmful and should be protected and together the two attempt a rescue of Boo, during which they travel through multiple foreign locations in the human world (a slight nod at the importance of multiculturalism in the film). The two also make an important discovery whilst harboring the child and undergoing her rescue: that laughter, generated by joyful rather than terrifying dealings between both species, is infinitely more powerful than screams. This finding revolutionizes the power industry in the world and creates a solid reciprocal relationship between the two realms absent of prejudice and fear. In its narrative Monsters Inc. exudes the message that whether you are a normative example of human child or green with one eye everyone should be fully embraced for who they are. Through this understanding of the necessity and power of difference alliances can be constructed and all included, whether “monster” or “human,” can benefit from open and delightful multicultural experiences.