Tuesday, September 21, 2010

emotional cat scenes and the pastiche

ok, i admit i had really low expectations coming into this movie…especially because kathy prefaced it by saying it was 134 minutes. but i have to say that, while parts of it were cheesy (katrin's attic narrations really could have been axed), it was a better narrative than i expected. although i was disappointed to learn that kathryn forbes' own life was nothing like that which she created in mama's bank account, i thought it made my point in class still ring true: that it doesn't matter if the stories are true, because they are real.

lipsitz spends a lot of time thinking about this "misappropriation," as he calls it–that we recreate the past in order to "see beyond our own experience" (80) in order to make sense of history, see it as a larger dialogue with meaning. it reminded me of an essay of jameson's that we've just read for LCS I, in which he talks about the pastiche, or the nostalgic recreation or amalgamation of histories which is colored by and colors how we judge the past. he even mentions star wars as an example of this, in its grasp of the epic, but the film i remember mama (i distinguish from the tv show) is also an amalgamation of values that are real in essence, if not set in one particular chronology.

then i guess lipsitz becomes afraid that he's too wishy-washy, as he goes on in the next paragraph to add that "commercial mass culture seeks credibility with its audience…by arbitrating the ideological tensions created by disparities between cultural promises and lived experiences" (80). but i like to think that the film (i haven't gotten to the play yet) was more motivated by the wish to pay tribute to these values, whereas in the tv show you can't help feeling the only value they're paying tribute to is that maxwell house is good to the last drop. but i got the sense from the film that the creators had read the book and said "yes! yes, i had such a family," or "i knew such a family" or at least, "i knew such a person." someone felt that what we learn from mama was worth recreating.

or maybe i'm just tired and that scene with uncle chris was surprisingly emotional. also i cried when the cat was dying.

I Remember Mama --

Or not.

Rachael tells me that, according to the readings, this story isn't really true at all -- only that the author had like, one Norwegian relative.

Honestly, I didn't think of it as a memoir at first anyway, because I didn't pay attention to the author of the stories. But after class on Monday, I'd accepted the memoir idea. I said then something like that the story would be true according to its feeling; I actually got that from the author's note at the beginning of another memoir. But now that these stories aren't true, where does that leave that discussion? Because the stories still feel real; we could discuss them like they were.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Memory

The discussion we had in class on Monday about how the image you generate in your head can be affected by adaptations seemed especially relevant after watching the 1989 film version of Parenthood.

Having seen the 2010 television adaptation really affected my viewing experience of last nights film, which was made 20 years prior to the version I initially saw. I had the actors, performances, setting, tone, and story of the television adaptation imprinted in my brain, which made for an emotionally confusing viewing of the 1989 film. When I saw Steve Martin, I thought to myself: "That's not him (the dad character)." I had similar feelings for the other cast members as well. However, in about a half hour or so, I had been reconditioned to accept the actors and their roles, and was no longer picturing the corresponding actors from the television series.

Though these two works were both of the same story, they really weren't all that alike. If the film wasn't called Parenthood, and I were to watch it in a different context, I likely wouldn't have even realized that it was the film from which the TV show was adapted from. Issues of parenthood seems to be a pretty flexible subject.

One difference I noticed was the brother and his gambling problems. The details of the main dad's brother are not really translated to the tv series, or at least not for me. Steve Martin's character also seems much more sarcastic, pessimistic, and pathetic in the film version. Pathetic meaning I felt sorry for him a lot. The daughters boyfriend, Tod, also seemed to play a larger role in the movie, although since we only watched the pilot episode, I'd imagine the whole daughter-Tod relationship would be further explored in later episodes.

A similarity I noticed was the dad's dad. This character seemed extremely similar in both the film and the tv show. They acted the same, they talked the same, and they even looked the same.

I think after last nights screening, the film is what is going to stick in my memory when I think of Parenthood. I guess we'll see though, maybe if I watched more episodes my memory wouldn't be so malleable.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Men and Parenthood

Ron Howard’s Parenthood obviously deals with anxieties surrounding parenting in the United States in the past two decades. However, the issue of masculinity stands out in the recent television version. It seems that the new adaptation is tackling growing anxieties about the role of men in society and what masculinity means, whereas the earlier film has strong, secure men. In the 21st century, it seems that the role of masculinity in society is under debate, as evidenced by the recent Atlantic article, “The End of Men.”
Central to the pilot episode of Parenthood is the youngest son discovering a sperm sample in his girlfriend’s freezer. This prompts him to promise to have a child with her, and causes extreme anxiety for him and his male relatives. Clearly, this echoes of emasculation fears and anxiety over virility for the characters in the show. In the film version, a dildo appears but never to threatens the masculinity of the fathers in the movie.
Zeek, the patriarch of the family seems to contain a dangerous and threatening virility that hearkens back to an older conception of manhood. While this is a minor theme in the film version, the television show makes it into a larger drama in the pilot. Even Joel seems to have an ambiguous role in the show, as he usurps the “mother” role for his young daughter while his wife is a driven career woman. Even Adam appears to be confused and frightened by traditional forms of masculinity, carefully protecting his son from his own father’s violence while privately falling into fits of rage.
Despite this, the show never contests the central role men play in raising children. Sarah laments the failure of her former husband as a father, and her children seem to be the biggest trouble makers on the show (perhaps because the lack of a strong father figure). Heteronormative marriage seems to be held up as ideal in raising children on the TV show, but the show still seems anxious about what men are supposed to do.

The Hair Trumps the Face

Besides a few similarities, the Parenthood film and television series are very different. But one similarity struck me: the physical resemblance of Steve Martin (Gill) and Peter Krause (Adam). I don't mean that the resemblance is completely spot on; there are of course differences, one of them being Steve Martin's ageless gray hair. But the similarity I'm referring to is in their face, especially around the eyes and mouth. More specifically, they both have very youthful facial features. I wonder if this was something intentional in the original film--the creators attempting to emphasize the residual child in Gill's character--that the show picked up on and appropriated. I use the word "appropriated" intentionally because in a lot of ways the show makes the subject matter its own and is successful in doing so. But despite the show standing firmly on its own two feet, in the end I enjoyed the film better, perhaps because of a personal bias, a sense of closure, the fact that I grew up with the film, or for an innumerable amount of other reasons, including the sense of calm Steve Martin's hair conjures within me.

modern TV: a chance to do something meaningful?

i agree with meghan that in the film, "things are taken less seriously." it seemed a little counter-intuitive to me that the TV show is more dramatic and explores some darker themes at deeper levels. then again, maybe it's in keeping with our discussion about the development of this new kind of drama on TV–that which uses the length of a season to develop a more complex plot thread, or series of threads, across all of the episodes; you know, shows like lost, heroes, trueblood. in that sense, you can go deeper with a TV show because you have much more time in which to explore concepts than you do with a 2 hour film. in fact, you don't even just have the season to work in–you can have a number of seasons to work out a plot in. you can do anything with such a time frame, so why not use the time to explore to the minutest nuance every aspect of the human struggle? just don't make mohinder turn into an evil scientist and inject himself with the virus that gives you superpowers, because that was personally upsetting.

linda hutcheon talks about an adaptation as "always framed in a context–a time and a place, a society and a culture; it does not exist in a vacuum" (142). these two version of parenthood are a perfect example of that, not only in the concepts explored in each, but in the modes of exploration. the 1989 film seems retroactively quaint in its (for all the scandals it contends with) idealistic upper-middle class suburbia world with problems that are all solved in two hours and nine minutes. the modern TV show, and the modern audience, seem to expect more–more grit, more drama, more challenge to find resolution. example: the child with asperger's instead of the child who is just "upset." with every pun intended against original television, modern TV, even while operating in its own (albeit more sophisticated) conventions, is not so black and white.

Parenthood

After watching the movie version of Parenthood I wanted to reflect on the concept of form. As we talked about in class television programs have a lot of time to develop their characters. They can introduce them and allow their relationships to develop overtime instead of solving their problems immediately. In this way I almost feel like TV shows are more like novels than films ever are. By having a lot of time to progress we can understand things more thoroughly.

This seems like it could be the reason people tend to respect novels more than movies. They have more time to explore relationship and get deeper into things than film can in an hour and a half. It also makes it important to seriously consider the difference between forms and why it should be difficult to compare pieces with different forms.

Even the case of the two different versions of Parenthood brings up these discrepancies. While they share much of the same characters and much of the same themes, they are very much their own pieces. The TV version develops slowly and gives itself time to get to know the characters, while the film starts and finishes things immediately. This begs the question, what really makes adaptation? Is it the same name and the same story? But even if these are the same the forms are different the time period is different and the setting. If all these are different why does story matter so much for adaptation rather than other elements of literature and film?