Showing posts with label Hollywood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hollywood. Show all posts

Saturday, February 13, 2021

The Male Gaze

                                            Image by Michael Bußmann from Pixabay

This is:
 A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids 
and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.

Please Note: If ya click on an Amazon ad, thus opening a portal to Amazon, and buy anything, Lord Jeffrey will toss a few pence in my direction and you won't have to feel guilty about enjoying my work  well, hopefully  for free. Win/Win.  

About 


Glossary 


Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlerreader

"If we had 3 million exhibitionists and only one voyeur, nobody could make any money." -Albert Brooks 


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

I have a male gaze. I can't seem to help myself. Please accept my insincere apologies. 

Hi, I'm Marcus and I'm a scopoholic. 

Hi, Marcus.

[Wait-wait-wait. There's no such word as scopoholic.]

Well, not yet, but stay tuned. There is such a word as scopophilia, I discovered it when I went a-googlin' to investigate what this male gaze thing is all about as I keep running into it. I refer to the phrase, not the gaze.  

[I'll bite, what's scopophilia?]

When I consulted my go-to online dictionary app, Merriam-Webster (M-W) I found "Medical Definition of scopophilia: a desire to look at sexually stimulating scenes especially as a substitute for actual sexual participation." 

[Hah! You're a porn addict!]

Nah, Dana, definitely not. But being a self-acknowledged testosterone poisoned, cisgender, heterosexual Pasty Patriarch constantly struggling to control my toxic masculinity I must confess I enjoy gazing at women and have for as long as I can remember. 

However, being a gentleperson, I strive to be as discrete as possible. Also, I find "sexually stimulating scenes" a poor and unsatisfying "substitute for actual sexual participation." I'm with the late, great Marvin Gaye, ain't nothin' like the real thing.  

But me being me (I'm also a self-acknowledged word lover) I wanted to know more about this word as I had never heard of it. When I googled it the very first hit consisted entirely of the following paragraph.

"Scopophilia: Literally, the love of looking. The term refers to the predominantly male gaze of Holloywood cinema, which enjoys objectfying women into mere objects to be looked at (rather than subjects with their own voice and subjectivity). The term, as used in feminist film criticism, is heavily influenced by Freudian and Lacanian psychoanalysis."

[Holloyood? Object-fying?]     

Yep. It's from a webpage that links to another webpage that's "Written and Designed by Dino Franko Felluga," a professor at Purdue University about a textbook he wrote called "Introductory Guide to Critical Theory." 

[What's that got to do with the M-W medical definition?] 

I think it has more to do with the Goog's allegedly unbiased search results and the current state of higher education than anything else. Surprisingly, as far as exactly what the nature of this psychiatric/psychological malady is, that seems to depend on which psychiatrist/psychologist/otherist you talk to. 

[No way! Get out! I didn't see that...]

Undaunted, since Dr. Felluga's (Ph.D.) definition contains the phrase male gaze and mentions Holloywood, I googled the search term Holloywood and male gaze.

Hoo-Boy... 

[Well c'mon, Dorothy, what did you learn?] 


Well, one Laura Mulvey is credited with coining the phrase in an essay she wrote titled Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema in 1973. I tried to read it but even though I have 39 certified college credits I'm not smart and/or sophisticated enough to unpack this work of feminist scholarship. 

By the first sentence of the second paragraph — "The paradox of phallocentrism in all its manifestations is that it depends on the image of a castrated woman to give order and meaning to its world." — I knew I was in over my head.

In despair, I returned to the first hit of my search, the one that led me to Ms. Mulvey, and pulled up an article from Bitch Media titled Returning Our Heads — Inside the Fight to Dismantle the (White) Gods of Hollywood, and read more carefully than the first time (I confess I only skimmed it on the first pass).     

It seems that the author, Naomi McDougal Jones, has noticed what I mistakenly thought everyone already knew, that the movies are chockablock with gratuitous shots of women in every possible state of dress and undress. 

I had assumed it was because anyone with a clue understands that men are ridiculously obsessed with looking at women, that's it's biological in nature and that Holloywood, Madison Avenue — and no shortage of women  don't hesitate to exploit this fact for fun and profit. 

It turns out, unfortunately, that it's just the usual suspects, my fellow Pasty Patriarchs, the ones with all the power and money I don't have (unfortunately) that are in charge of the world. I've never even been invited to one of the meetings! 

If I had money and power I'd produce movies like one I watched recently on Netflix, The Dig, that I can't recommend enough. It's a well made, realistic story with realistic characters and real heroes. Some of them are actually likable, consciously virtuous, and it's based on a novel, not a comic book. 

Given that it's a hit and quite a departure from their standard formula for success  Blood & Bouncing Boobies filmed in Grittyvision  dare we hope for more of the same? 

Finally, lest I appear more sophisticated and more conservative than I actually am (I'm subject to frequent libertarian impulses), sometimes a well made B&BB story that doesn't insult my intelligence and has a well-drawn, likable, non-psychotic character or two is just what the doctor ordered. 

Must be my male gaze.

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day


Share this column, give me a thumb (up or in my eye), and/or access older columns below. If my work pleases you you can buy me some cheap coffee with PayPal or plastic.

If you do your Amazon shopping by using one of my Amazon ads as a portal to access Amazon, Lord Jeffrey will toss me a few pence if you buy anything.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page.

Cranky don't tweet. 

   

 













Friday, January 15, 2021

Can You Hear Me Now?

A random randomnesses column

                                      Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.

Please Note: If ya click on an Amazon ad, thus opening a portal to Amazon, and buy anything, Lord Jeffrey will toss a few pence in my direction and you won't have to feel guilty about enjoying my work  well, hopefully  for free. Win/Win.  

About 


Glossary 


Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlerreader

"In Hollywood a marriage is a success if it outlasts milk." -Rita Rudner


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

Since delaying the Stickies access to smart(?)phones any longer was becoming impractical, and,

Since my hardworking daughter needs a cutting edge smartphone for her job, and, 

Since my family wanted their beloved Pasty Patriarch to start carrying a smart enough phone since crises, major and minor, randomly occurring to geezers of a certain age are not unheard of, well...

My daughter went to a local Verizon outlet a few years back and came home with a bunch of phones.

A few years go by and Verizon's been the beneficiary of a not inconsiderable chunk of our change. A few months ago my daughter revisited the same outlet, dealt with the same clerk, a.k.a. the kid, and revamped our personal communications system. A reduction in monthly outgo was achieved and we were (momentarily) delighted.

However, she made the mistake of arranging for the automatic monthly payment to be deducted directly from my checking account for logistical reasons. Our finances are mingled and it was the logical thing to do at the time. 

[Mistake?]

HOOGE mistake, Dana. Deep breath... 

The store closes temporarily due to plague problems, the kid moves on, and since the phones are in my daughter's name they won't/can't take money out of my checking account even though the kid said they would, their website says they are, my bank says they're not, and endless hours are spent on the phone to their support people who say they will, but they don't, and eventually say they can't, but, we owe them all sorts of penalty fees and the new deal is canceled, so we also owe them the difference between the old price and the new one and going forward we have to pay the old price, and...

[You're making this up, right? This is one of your goofy "literary devices".]
 
Nope. But suffice it to say that we're now happy T-mobile customers, saving a small fortune on our phone bill, and Verizon can kiss my SIM card.

I'll leave my gentlereaders to draw their own conclusions. 



"The problem isn’t Trump, or Joe Biden, or Kamala Harris, or any other politician: It is the popular response to the gut-wrenching realization that America is hollowed out, that it is living on borrowed money (which is to say borrowed time)..." 

"Americans are frightened for their future, with good reason. They see enormous rewards accrue to a handful of tech companies, and stagnation and decay in large parts of the rest of the country. Donald Trump gave them a frisson of hope, and the Establishment reaction against Trump confirms the popular suspicion that a malevolent global elite has seized control of their country. Trump shamefully exploited this suspicion to direct a popular storm against the Congress." (My emphasis.)

The two quotes above are from a column written by a gentleperson you may, but likely haven't heard of, named David P. Goldman. Mr. Goldman, a.k.a. Spengler, wrote this particular column for PJ Media, an online conglomeration of right-wing takes on politics and news. Mr. Goldman's work, unlike your humble correspondents, is published by all sorts of people.  

Mr. Goldman is a polymath who has had success in multiple jobs. Wikipedia describes him as, "...an American economist, music critic, and author, best known for his series of online essays in the Asia Times under the pseudonym Spengler.

Mr. G., like me, is not a Never Trumper and has voiced support for some of the Donald's efforts, but is hardly a fanboy.  

Mr. G., unlike me, can use words like frisson with a straight face being slightly more intelligent, sophisticated, and cosmopolitan than I am. 

[Slightly? You thought frisson meant sliver, as in a sliver of hope. It means...]   

Yeah, yeah. I now know it means a brief moment of emotional excitement, at least according to Merriam-Webster.

[And everyone else. Why are you extensively quoting from a David P. Goldman column anyway?] 

Because if one ignores the elephant in the room one will, inevitably, wind up shoveling elephant excrement. 

Mr. Goldman's thoughts about the events of 1/6/20 are the same as mine. Since I'm sick of the Donald, the "Resistance," and the endless, often self-serving and deliberately inflammatory coverage of the Purple Press I've borrowed a cup of words to avoid spending any more energy than absolutely necessary on this subject just now. I hope he doesn't mind. 



Ever feel like you're the last person on Earth who doesn't give a damn what a given Hollywood celebrity thinks about a given issue or politician? Considering what a mess so many of them seem to make of their lives (multiple marriages and drug/alcohol abuse come immediately to mind) why does anyone care?

Why are people that wear their virtue on their sleeves, decry "toxic masculinity" and declare their allegiance to the Me Too movement but are perfectly willing to get naked for softcore porn scenes in movies taken seriously?

[Porn!?! You unsophisticated philistine, the woke ones only participate in pseudo sex if it's an essential element of a realistic plot.]

So in the real world, seeing other people having sex is no more unusual than say, um, sharing a meal with them? 

[You just don't understand.]

You're right.

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day


Share this column, give me a thumb (up or in my eye), and/or access older columns below. If my work pleases you you can buy me some cheap coffee with PayPal or plastic.

If you do your Amazon shopping by using one of my Amazon ads as a portal to access Amazon, Lord Jeffrey will toss me a few pence if you buy anything.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page.

Cranky don't tweet.


  

  












 





 

















Saturday, July 20, 2019

Deep State

A review (sorta/kinda)

yeoldefrog
If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my (eventual) grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who don't, yet) -- the Stickies -- to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.


[The following column is rated SSC (Sexy Seasoned Citizens). If read by grups or callowyutes it may result in psychological/emotional/etceteralogical triggering.]

                                                 Glossary  

                                         Just who IS this guy?

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars 
Dana -- A Gentlereader
Iggy -- A Sticky (GT*)
Marie-Louise -- My Muse (GT*)

"Something that confirms all fears and many conspiracy theories about government is finding out what our elected representatives would put into law if they could."                                                                          - P.J. O'Rourke 


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies (& Gentlereaders),

I'm not a critic. Well, I guess I am since my letters/columns are often critical of this, that, or even that. But I'm talking about those lucky few whose job -- that is to say someone pays them -- is to write reviews about this, that, or even that.

[Lucky few?]

Yeah, Dana, obviously. If someone paid me to watch TV or movies, play video games, listen to music, etceteric, and then express my opinion to the world, I'd thank God twice a day for my sweet gig.

Anyways... I want to discuss a television show that's running, at the time this being written at least, on ePix "...an American premium cable and satellite television network that is owned by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer." -Wikipedia


To begin with, I want to talk about what a stroke of genius the title is.

The term Deep State, as I use it, is a term that refers to the members of the unelected bureaucracy with enough power to thwart the actions of elected politicians and who can be hard to get rid of 'cause they're professional swamp dwellers who know how to game the system.

My version of the Deep State includes the 670,000 employees of The Gummit's 2,000,000 employees who are in unions and are in the enviable position of negotiating their contracts with people that pay them with other people's money, and often, who also want their votes.

BIG BUT,

The term Deep State means whatever the user wants it to mean and there is no shortage of H. sapiens who use it as the name for their favorite conspiracy theory who range from relatively rational to card-carrying members of the Tinfoil Hat Club.

And therefore,

The title appeals to a prodigious audience of passionate personages. The series tilts in a tinfoil hat direction. There's an evil, obscenely rich oligarch with people placed all over the Swamp, all over the planet actually, who do his bidding.

[He's more dastardly and more powerful than Simon Barsinister and all the would-be Underdogs (more below) are anti-heroes.]     


If someone asked me my opinion of the show I'd say, "Meh... could be worse -- not always awful, but not good either. The first season is better than the second."

I'm not impressed by the often hokey, predictable dialog. The show's emphasis, near obsession, with the personal domestic situations of the main characters gets old.

Spies, we learn -- both bad guys and good guys, well, bad guys and not as bad guys, alleged good guys and/or tragically conflicted guys, all of whom drop bodies like litterbugs drop Kleenex -- have seemingly no end of difficulty in maintaining healthy personal relationships. 


What I really want to talk about is the show's relentlessly recurring underlying theme -- blame America first.

And,

Point out that while not a few of my fellow Citizens of the Republic have become somewhat obsessed with Russian interference in our affairs...

[A time-honored tradition in which America (at least I hope so) enthusiastically gives as good as it gets.]

Via social media in general, and claiming that the Pooteen has made the Donald his bitch, specifically,

I wonder why they aren't demanding investigations/regulation/censorship of Hollywood?

I'll betcha a bottle a soda pop that the Endless Entertainment Industrial Complex brainwashes more Americans before breakfast than the Pooteen and social media do all day long.


Permit me to clear the decks by stating that I'm not a, My Country Right or
Wrong type. If your country is in the wrong you should say so, without fear of retribution.

I'll go first. Iraq was a mistake. Afghanistan was/is a HOOGE mistake.

Also, I get that Hollywood is about entertainment, not facts.

[On a vaguely related note, and since I've been dying to use it, as George Will (one of my intellectual heroes) recently quipped, "Congress is more theatrical than actual."] 

However,

Even though there's a string-pulling, greedy, blood-thirsty, man behind the curtain whose very voice is menacing we're subjected to frequent soliloquies by all sorts of disparate characters with one thing in common.

It's America's fault they're terrorists/traitors/dictators/alcoholics/etceterolics -- and also why they don't get to spend enough time with their kids (who live with their exes) and/or their current snifficant others and why they have to lie to them about pretty much everything.

Curiously, China and China's Emperor Xi's goals of becoming the world's loan shark and friend to dick-taters everywhere never comes up.


Finally, and perhaps most importantly, season two features the amazing Walton Goggins -- the coolest, most talented Academy Award-winning, Emmy nominated, producer and businessman you've probably never heard of -- gamely doing his best to heat up a tepid drama.

"Walton Goggins makes a habit of being the best thing about the television shows he's in." -Mike Hale, critic for the New York Times 

Instead of a Justified spin-off built around Mr. Goggins' character, the unforgettable Boyd Crowder, Hollywood's stuffed hin into this turkey.

Poppa loves you.
Have an OK day. 

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©2019 Mark Mehlmauer As long as you agree to supply my name, (Mark Mehlmauer), the title of my website (The Flyoverland Crank), and the URL (Creative Commons license at the top and bottom of the website), you may republish this anywhere that you please. Light editing that doesn't alter the content is acceptable. You don't have to include any of the folderol before the greeting or after the closing (Have an OK day) except for the title.