Tuesday 30 April 2019

Workshop three - Baudrillard and postmodernism

Postmodernism has a reputation as being the trickiest theory to actually apply in media studies. This is mainly because as a concept, the theory is so loosely defined that even cultural theorists argue over what it is. Postmodernism is broadly a characteristic in media products that demonstrates a distrust of established rules and theory, often by drawing attention to its own status as a fictional product. So a postmodern media product may feature a camera talking directly to the audience, breaking the rules of cinema, being as trashy or as awful as possible, making no sense, jumping backwards and forwards in time and space, or deliberately challenging philosophies such as religion and cultural hegemony. If this sounds like an inadequate definition, it's because, well, it is. Given that postmodern products often deliberately break rules and criticise theory, it makes defining this theory impossible.

Luckily, for the purposes of A-level media studies, you only need to focus on one small chunk of postmodern theory: the notion of hyperreality.

Hyperreality – A representation of nothing. A representation of something that does not exist. Through the use of hyperreal imagery, audiences now confuse the signs of the real for the real. And in many cases, the hyperreal is far more attractive than reality itself!

Simulacra – A copy of a copy, a representation of a representation. Something that refers to something else, and not something ‘real’. Jean Baudrillard argued that this copy of a copy is real in its own right…

Simulation – An imitation of something real

Do you know a Chandler or a Joey?


Baudrillard posited that far from being simply an imitation or a copy, the hyperreal instead functioned as a concept that erases the notion of reality itself is. Why might we prefer a representation over what it is inferring it represents? Baudrillard suggests "[w]hen the real is no longer what it was, nostalgia assumes its full meaning". In many ways, a hyperreal construction is just so much more appealing than real life. And anyway, we start to kid ourselves. We all know a Chandler or a Joey. You may even be one. We actively identify with a fictitious character cynically constructed to maximize advertiser revenue, because we probably identify more with the cast of Friends than we do with our family. The simulacra becomes reality.

"It is a question of substituting the signs of the real for the real, that is to say of an operation of deterring every real process via its operational double"




Have you ever been on a picnic?


A strange question. But the concept of 'picnic' brings up a range of different images. You have all eaten outside. Maybe you bought a blanket. Perhaps you were stung by a wasp. But was it a picnic?

If anyone can tell us what a picnic is, it's Zoella. In her picnic party blogpost, she elaborates in great detail a hyperreal construction of a perfect picnic The mise en scene, cinematography and the selection of images construct a hyperreal simulacrum of hegemonically acceptable representations of femininity. Ice lollies, scones and fruit, all symbolically adorned with summery colours, connote luxury, wholesomeness and pleasure. Yet never at any point is a single bite taken from anything. Not a crumb of scone nor a drop of cream is spilt on the reassuring thickness of the blanket. If at any point an insinuation of eating was presented, the illusion would be dispelled. This is therefore not a picic, but is nevertheless through it's hyperreality more perfect than reality

We can also consider further symbolic connotations of this picnic. Zoella and her friend are surrounded with a surplus of uneaten food, symbolising wealth, excess, and the pleasures of consumerism. There is no hint of sex and sexulaity. Like the rest of the website, all relationships are sexless and platonic. The uneaten food could be symbolic of conservative ideologies surrounding purity and virginity. Both Zoella and friend and slender and hegemonically attractive, despite their surplus of food. Food is not supposed to be eaten, it's supposed to be looked at and admired

The comments section reinforces this reading, with enthusiastic fans posting messages of appreciation. One young user writes:

After watching your video and reading your blog post, I decided to have my own picnic party for my 14th birthday!... Although, it probably won't look as amazing as yours ;) Can't wait!! Thanks for all the inspiration ♡

The hyperreal perfection of the picnic provides the audience with a metanarrative with which to live their life by, and a problematic presentation of an idealised perfection becoming the new reality.

What do gay people look like?


Again a strange question, and even potentially offensive. What do gay people look like, what hobbies do they have, how do they dress? The obvious answer is "however the hell they want". However, a definite and ever changing construction of queer identity has been constructed through media and art and subculture and public discourse for centuries. 

Attitude Online, the online aspect of the established UK gay men's lifestyle magazine Attitude constructs a very specific representation of what gay people like. From their fashion sense and hobbies, to exactly who they find sexually attractive. It's a definite example of stereotyping, this much is clear. But when the thing that is being represented simply cannot and does not exist, it moves to the boundaries of the hyperreal. 

The best place to look for hyperreal representations on the Attitude website is the 'boys' section. Here, perfectly toned and sculpted young men, often shot in high key lighting to emphasize muscles and bone structure, are presented in a hypersexualised and utopian collage of gay male idealism. Ideas such as sexual preference and body positivity are largely left by the wayside: there is a gay ideal, and he is buff.  This hyperreal expectation, constructed through selection and steroids, through PhotoShopping and stereotyping, constructs a perfect and hegemonically acceptable representation of gay men: healthy, happy, out and proud. Many of the models here are not explicitly gay, yet this matters little. The fantasy is more important than the reality, the ideal overrules any notion of verisimilitude. Who cares what is real when it looks this good?

Yet just like with Zoella, there are issues to this extreme form of escapism. Very few men (gay or straight, young or old) look like this. It's an unachievable ideal to most. It's also an example of hypersexualisation (where a representation goes beyond sexualisation to something more extreme) and fetishisation (an obsession with a particular aspect, in this case the muscles and bodies of the models and celebrities). And once more there is a disconnect between a perfectly real fantasy and a really imperfect reality. 

We must question why this is the case. Gay men in the UK have a history of persecution, and one way of avoiding, or at least dealing with this persecution is the elaborate construction and dissemination of a subcultural ideology. The appropriation of the word 'queer' is an excellent example, as is the appropriation of 'camp' subculture, such as sugary pop music, loud fashion choices, and extravagant behaviour. This process of becoming the stereotype allows gay people to take control of the stereotype, as well as giving a minority group mainstream visibility. 

Have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?


Ok, this is not a quote from Humans. But it could be. It's actually a quote from HBO's hit android saga Westworld, which, much like Humans deals with a range of themes including (DEEP BREATH)
  • Sexualisation
  • Unpaid labour
  • The negotiation of exoticism
  • Sexual exploitation
  • Modern slavery
  • Commodity fetishism
  • Commodification
  • Full automation
  • The rights of workers
  • Late period capitalism vs Marxism
  • Postcolonialism
  • Transgression
  • Capitalism and the nuclear family
  • Prostitution and the rights of sex workers
  • Postmodernism
  • Hyperreality
  • Polysemy
  • Racism
  • The singularity
  • Diegesis and the relationship with the fictive

Science fiction that explores the relationship between humans and increasingly intelligent robots is a subgenre as defined as any other, and this list could pretty much apply to other android narratives such as Alex Garland's Ex Machina or Ridley Scott's seminal Blade Runner. One thing android narratives accomplish particularly well is the exploration of hyperreality through allegory. As we live in a world that feels increasingly less authentic, feelings of paranoia, self loathing and anxiety settle in. Since we can never live up to hyperreal expectations, and the notion of reality has ceased to have any relevance, we are not only unable to distinguish between what is real and what is no, but we are also utterly fed up about the whole deal.

If this seems confusing, it's because it is. Questioning the nature of reality is never going to be a particularly fun experience, and once you start pondering the brain in a jar hypothesis or even more spicy, the notion that everything could well be a videogame and you have no way of proving otherwise, the temptation to sit in a corner and cry must be seeming pretty appealing right now.

So Humans does something exceptional by taking centuries of  existential thought and contextualising in such a way that not only do we intrinsically get it, but also makes it fun. The best example, as suggested by students during this workshop, is the scene where Laura Hawkins returns home to find her feckless husband has bought a synth (Humans' specific word for an android). Laura's unease is suggested through an establishing montage of close up shots of tidied shoes. The perfectly tidy house symbolises that her imperfect family is in trouble. Laura's shock and horror at seeing Anita for the first time works on many levels. Anita is young, hegemonically attractive, codified as exotic through being ethnically East Asian, well spoken, obedient, and uncanny. Laura predictably hates her. She is too good to be true. She is hyperreal. 

The next day, Anita sets up a 'perfect' breakfast, much to the delight of the Hawkins. Joe, the father announces "this is how breakfasts are supposed to be!", insinuating that the breakfast they have previously had has been fake. The breakfast is set up like in an advertisement for breakfast cereal or an IKEA showroom, all perfectly set out, all perfectly clean with none of the messiness seen in the first half of the episode.The breakfast is perfectly imperfect... or perhaps it is imperfectly perfect?

Humans focuses on themes of paranoia and displacement, the idea that life is not as it seems, and could crumble at any point. Humans does an excellent job of taking these themes and making them relatable to the audience. It is possible to watch Humans as a straightford sci-fi about (occasionally) killer robots. But the cult audience can negotiate a deeper level of analysis, where the lines between humanity and artificial reality are blurred. Baudrillard became fascinated with the idea of the technological singularity in his later years, and wrote about the inevitability of computers catching up to human intellect (though he was sceptical in many ways). Humans is less a show about robots, and more about the increasingly complicated world that technology is creating for us. Self-service checkouts, globalisation, online pornography and commodity fetishism have all lead to an exciting world that just doesn't feel real anymore. And if the world does totally change, how will that effect us? What is reality? Do robots have the same rights to existence as humans? And if not, who's going to explain that to them?