So, less than twenty-four hours later...yeah, I kind of like to work fast with this sort of thing...I've started a petition politely requesting that the MPAA wise up.
Here's the thing: I've been talking to people about this. We've assembled a team and we're going to do something about it. We will be Hipster Activists no longer.
You know what I mean about hipster activism, right? I mean that people sit around on Facebook and complain about how awful the media is and how awful the government is. And, okay, in some cases, they have a point. But here's the thing: I don't want to just sit here and whine about how awful it is that violene in films is totally acceptable, while lovemaking is considered "the devil."
Now, I am not saying that we should go back to the Production Code days. But I do think they were on to something when they made a stipulation that murder and rape scenes should be essential to the plot and should happen largely off-camera. Because it just blows my mind that violence against women--which is so often used as a plot device in films even now, when the "damsel in distress" archetype has been challenged over and over--is allowed to slip through into PG-13 and R films, which are marketed in the mainstream media and are given TV spots and advertising budgets. BUT. When a statement is made about it, or it is used in a realistic context, such as in Boys Don't Cry? It's slapped with an NC-17. And they go on and on about the violence, but the truth of it is, they're squicked out by the (non-explicit, very poigniant) sex scenes between a girl and a transgender boy. That's the bottom line.
And for those of you sitting there yelling, "You hypocrite, you slam violence in films but you gush about A Clockwork Orange on a daily basis!"--let me point out here, when that movie was withdrawn in the UK, it was withdrawn for violence. Not for the far-away, sped-up threesome sex scene, which surely would have gotten it banned in America. But for the violence. Also--much of the violence is implied in that film, as well. Think about it: During the rape scene, you do not actually see Alex rape the woman. They cut away before it happens. In the scene where he kills the woman with the statue--you do not actually see her die.
Murder and rape: only used when essential to the plot, done mostly off-camera.
Here's what you can do. Sign the petition. Watch Merchants of Cool. Watch This Film is Not Yet Rated.
If you want to help, that is. Remember: This is all my opinion. Educated and informed opinion, yes, but opinion nonetheless. I'm not trying to force anyone to think the way I think. I just want to help.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
Whatever it takes
I take back what I said in my last serious post, about not wanting to offend anyone. I hope that the people at whom this rant is directed are offended. I want them to be so offended they do something about what I'm about to discuss. I hope and pray and someday, I will do more. This is my promise. This is one of the key reasons I refuse to go to Hollywood, even just for film school.
The MPAA. They are among the people I blame for tragedies like what happened in Aurora. Do my few readers think that I, a film student who will someday have dealings with this organization, am crazy for publicly stating this? I don't care. Because as I said in my previous post, I don't have an agenda. (Yet. But I will. Because I don't plan on letting this slide.) I just write what I feel, and I feel that the MPAA has saturated our culture with violence.
Watch This Film Is Not Yet Rated, and you will get a clearer picture of what I mean. I won't go into their full ratings process and how incredibly insane it is that films with extreme violence and less sex are given lower ratings than films with moderate to heavy sexual content. To quote John Lennon: we live in a world where we have to hide to make love, while violence is practiced in broad daylight. And the MPAA perpetuates that. Sex is something to run from, to be terrified of, while violence is no problem. Kids are fed that idea from the time they're six years old and rush home from school to watch Squidward abuse Spongebob, right up through their teen years when they are "lame" if they don't play violent video games. Who, then, do those kids grow up into?
I don't blame violent video games. I don't blame violent TV. I don't blame action movies. I blame all of it. I blame the fact that our culture is, as I stated above, saturated with violence. And how does that happen? By feeding kids images of murder, gunfire, car chases, rape, massacre--from the time they're too little to know that what happens on TV isn't real, right up to the point when they're old enough to commit the acts displayed in their films, shows, and games.
Now, for those of you protesting, "They're too little, they don't know what it means," let me tell you a little story. When I was a baby--and I do mean baby, I was about fourteen months old--my aunt came to visit me and my parents. They ended up renting a movie called Delicatessen. For anyone unfamiliar with the plot of this film, here's the basic outline: in post-apocalyptic France, food is in short supply, so the landlord of an apartment runs a butcher's shop that deals in human meat. Now, let me remind you, I wasn't yet two years old. I hadn't even seen Beauty and the Beast yet; my cinematic experience was limited to Winnie the Pooh. So naturally, my mother had her reservations. She said the movie would scare me.
"No, don't worry," my dad and aunt reassured her over and over again. "She won't get it, she won't even be paying attention."
So, we all settled down to watch the movie. Right at the end of the opening credits, you hear the sound of a cleaver whacking--you can guess what that implies. And guess who freaked out? If you guessed the then-one-year-old Avery, you would be right. At the sound of the cleaver, I flipped out. My mom had to take me out of the room. She tells this story often, whenever I complain to her about my inability to stomach most horror movies (if you ever want to get me out of a room fast, turn on any of the Saw films and I will be gone before you can say "torture porn"). To this day, I'm bad with gore.
And you know what? Recently, a group of my friends were watching Delicatessen, and I sat down to watch just as the opening credits rolled. The film seemed vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. (I didn't know, at the time, that it was Delicatessen; I hadn't ever seen it--my only experience with that movie was my mother rushing me from the room after I flipped shit at the cleaver whack.) I think you can guess what happened: the second the cleaver sounded, I jumped. I didn't have the scream-and-cry reaction of a not-quite two-year-old, but I left the room shortly afterward (still without finding out the title of the film). Would that film scare me if I watched it all the way through? Having looked up the plot, I sincerely doubt it; I'd find it unsettling, but as a girl whose favorite film is A Clockwork Orange, I'm used to finding films pleasant and unsettling at the same time. But watching just those first few minutes, I felt uncomfortable. I had a bad memory--which I don't even really remember--associated with that movie.
Here's my point: The film that scared me as a child left an impact that still affects me now, over eighteen years later. Is that a coincidence? I don't think so.
And keep in mind, my media consumption was monitored heavily as a child. I was homeschooled until age fifteen, and one of my most prominent classes was Media Literacy 101. I was taught about advertising and marketing schemes from a young age, and quickly learned not to trust commercials. TV was limited to programs that my mother knew would enhance, not smother, my ability to think for myself. My friends listened to Britney and Christina and N-Sync when they were six years old. My first exposure to mainstream pop music was Avril Lavigne at age nine; until then I was raised on Springsteen and Meat Loaf and Todd Rundgren--listen to their lyrics if you don't understand why this was significant. Instead of Spongebob or Rugrats, I watched Full House and Family Matters. My Disney exposure was limited to the films with minimal violence (Winnie the Pooh, Cinderella and, with a bit of fast-forwarding, Beauty and the Beast).
Contrast that with TV these days. Little kids watch shows like Spongebob, full of cartoon violence and adult-oriented insults. "Let me show you guys how much I HATE YOU!" is one of the more G-rated insults that Squidward slings at his neighbors. Characters are squashed flat, burned to charcoal, stabbed with kitchen utensils, punched out by their supposed friends, tricked into evil schemes by the show's villain. As a child, I couldn't have watched this; it took me forever to feel comfortable watching Arthur because I was initially afraid of Mr. Ratburn. Not to mention much of the humor would have gone way over my head--most of the jokes woven in are aimed at adults.
What does this have to do with the MPAA? I'm getting there. Here's the thing: our media works in a feedback loop. I posted about this a few months ago on my old blog. The media will sell us a stereotype (the example used in the documentary Merchants of Cool, which was the spark that inspired that post, was Britney Spears), and then we try to emulate whatever they've sold us, because we see it as "cool." They watch us, trying to figure us out, trying to find new things to sell us, and when they see us doing what they've shown us how to do, they simply re-sell it as the newest thing. Look back at our media stereotypes for girls: in 2001, it was Britney Spears. In 2005, it was Lindsay Lohan. In 2011, it's Ke$ha. It's the same person re-packaged over and over again as a symbol of what the media calls "feminine empowerment."
So, with that in mind, think about what happens when violence is allowed to slide, but sex is covered with a seal of censorship. We send the message that sex is forbidden, something we should never explore and certainly something we don't need to know about, while violence is totally okay. It's completely fine to beat the crap out of someone, but if you find yourself thinking about kissing them--watch out!
TL;DR version: The MPAA is telling us, as simply phrased as possible, that violent behavior is more accepable than love.
And that is not okay with me.
I don't know what I'm going to do about this. But I'm going to change it. Somehow.
Wish me luck. I'll keep you posted.
The MPAA. They are among the people I blame for tragedies like what happened in Aurora. Do my few readers think that I, a film student who will someday have dealings with this organization, am crazy for publicly stating this? I don't care. Because as I said in my previous post, I don't have an agenda. (Yet. But I will. Because I don't plan on letting this slide.) I just write what I feel, and I feel that the MPAA has saturated our culture with violence.
Watch This Film Is Not Yet Rated, and you will get a clearer picture of what I mean. I won't go into their full ratings process and how incredibly insane it is that films with extreme violence and less sex are given lower ratings than films with moderate to heavy sexual content. To quote John Lennon: we live in a world where we have to hide to make love, while violence is practiced in broad daylight. And the MPAA perpetuates that. Sex is something to run from, to be terrified of, while violence is no problem. Kids are fed that idea from the time they're six years old and rush home from school to watch Squidward abuse Spongebob, right up through their teen years when they are "lame" if they don't play violent video games. Who, then, do those kids grow up into?
I don't blame violent video games. I don't blame violent TV. I don't blame action movies. I blame all of it. I blame the fact that our culture is, as I stated above, saturated with violence. And how does that happen? By feeding kids images of murder, gunfire, car chases, rape, massacre--from the time they're too little to know that what happens on TV isn't real, right up to the point when they're old enough to commit the acts displayed in their films, shows, and games.
Now, for those of you protesting, "They're too little, they don't know what it means," let me tell you a little story. When I was a baby--and I do mean baby, I was about fourteen months old--my aunt came to visit me and my parents. They ended up renting a movie called Delicatessen. For anyone unfamiliar with the plot of this film, here's the basic outline: in post-apocalyptic France, food is in short supply, so the landlord of an apartment runs a butcher's shop that deals in human meat. Now, let me remind you, I wasn't yet two years old. I hadn't even seen Beauty and the Beast yet; my cinematic experience was limited to Winnie the Pooh. So naturally, my mother had her reservations. She said the movie would scare me.
"No, don't worry," my dad and aunt reassured her over and over again. "She won't get it, she won't even be paying attention."
So, we all settled down to watch the movie. Right at the end of the opening credits, you hear the sound of a cleaver whacking--you can guess what that implies. And guess who freaked out? If you guessed the then-one-year-old Avery, you would be right. At the sound of the cleaver, I flipped out. My mom had to take me out of the room. She tells this story often, whenever I complain to her about my inability to stomach most horror movies (if you ever want to get me out of a room fast, turn on any of the Saw films and I will be gone before you can say "torture porn"). To this day, I'm bad with gore.
And you know what? Recently, a group of my friends were watching Delicatessen, and I sat down to watch just as the opening credits rolled. The film seemed vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. (I didn't know, at the time, that it was Delicatessen; I hadn't ever seen it--my only experience with that movie was my mother rushing me from the room after I flipped shit at the cleaver whack.) I think you can guess what happened: the second the cleaver sounded, I jumped. I didn't have the scream-and-cry reaction of a not-quite two-year-old, but I left the room shortly afterward (still without finding out the title of the film). Would that film scare me if I watched it all the way through? Having looked up the plot, I sincerely doubt it; I'd find it unsettling, but as a girl whose favorite film is A Clockwork Orange, I'm used to finding films pleasant and unsettling at the same time. But watching just those first few minutes, I felt uncomfortable. I had a bad memory--which I don't even really remember--associated with that movie.
Here's my point: The film that scared me as a child left an impact that still affects me now, over eighteen years later. Is that a coincidence? I don't think so.
And keep in mind, my media consumption was monitored heavily as a child. I was homeschooled until age fifteen, and one of my most prominent classes was Media Literacy 101. I was taught about advertising and marketing schemes from a young age, and quickly learned not to trust commercials. TV was limited to programs that my mother knew would enhance, not smother, my ability to think for myself. My friends listened to Britney and Christina and N-Sync when they were six years old. My first exposure to mainstream pop music was Avril Lavigne at age nine; until then I was raised on Springsteen and Meat Loaf and Todd Rundgren--listen to their lyrics if you don't understand why this was significant. Instead of Spongebob or Rugrats, I watched Full House and Family Matters. My Disney exposure was limited to the films with minimal violence (Winnie the Pooh, Cinderella and, with a bit of fast-forwarding, Beauty and the Beast).
Contrast that with TV these days. Little kids watch shows like Spongebob, full of cartoon violence and adult-oriented insults. "Let me show you guys how much I HATE YOU!" is one of the more G-rated insults that Squidward slings at his neighbors. Characters are squashed flat, burned to charcoal, stabbed with kitchen utensils, punched out by their supposed friends, tricked into evil schemes by the show's villain. As a child, I couldn't have watched this; it took me forever to feel comfortable watching Arthur because I was initially afraid of Mr. Ratburn. Not to mention much of the humor would have gone way over my head--most of the jokes woven in are aimed at adults.
What does this have to do with the MPAA? I'm getting there. Here's the thing: our media works in a feedback loop. I posted about this a few months ago on my old blog. The media will sell us a stereotype (the example used in the documentary Merchants of Cool, which was the spark that inspired that post, was Britney Spears), and then we try to emulate whatever they've sold us, because we see it as "cool." They watch us, trying to figure us out, trying to find new things to sell us, and when they see us doing what they've shown us how to do, they simply re-sell it as the newest thing. Look back at our media stereotypes for girls: in 2001, it was Britney Spears. In 2005, it was Lindsay Lohan. In 2011, it's Ke$ha. It's the same person re-packaged over and over again as a symbol of what the media calls "feminine empowerment."
So, with that in mind, think about what happens when violence is allowed to slide, but sex is covered with a seal of censorship. We send the message that sex is forbidden, something we should never explore and certainly something we don't need to know about, while violence is totally okay. It's completely fine to beat the crap out of someone, but if you find yourself thinking about kissing them--watch out!
TL;DR version: The MPAA is telling us, as simply phrased as possible, that violent behavior is more accepable than love.
And that is not okay with me.
I don't know what I'm going to do about this. But I'm going to change it. Somehow.
Wish me luck. I'll keep you posted.
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