Week 12 response – Leo Ballantyne

Can reality tv still be thought of as a genre given the high level of hybridity that exists?

According to Wood (2004) defining reality television as a genre is relatively unhelpful in a critical context due to the inherent tendency of all media content to attempt to “produce worldliness” and a “sense of real”. Especially in an age of increasing hybridity where televised media embrace both elements of the real and fictional, Wood suggests that this categorization is too reductive for the interplay that occurs between the various media types. Smith (2013) presents a similar sentiment, claiming that generalised criticisms of the genre ignore the vast variance that exists in both type and quality, which act to fill the needs of many different audience demographics. Wood communicates this notion of diversity and complexity by first identifying four traditional modes of television. This both showcases the pre-existing interplay between reality and fiction that exists in all television, as well as establish a typology which can better identify hybrid types which have developed out of these initial modes. Wood then outlines four major hybrid hinges which feature interplay and layering of these previously described modes, supporting his claim that the complexity and range of these interactions makes categorizing reality television as a genre relatively obsolete.

The four television modes Wood (2004) identifies are that of Fact, Fiction, Entertainment and Advertisement, all of which feature different methods to construct a reality. Fact refers to programming which claims to cover objective truths regarding the world outside the text. This mode is dominated by News Journalism and documentaries, however practical advice and smaller genres also operate within this category. Fiction, while making no attempt to faithfully replicate the external world, constructs a form of internalised world and attempts to assure the audience of this internal world’s reality. This mode encompasses film and television fiction. Entertainment is a mode of television where characters who exist both in the text and the external world are depicted, where they are expected to act as themselves while participating in various forms of spectacle. These characters being an extension of their external personas informs an implicit link between text and reality, and this feature is most common in genres such as Game shows, talk shows and sport, among others. Finally, Advertisements refer to commodities that exist, with advertisers using fictional/narrative elements to construct products as artificially desirable for the sake of increased sales. While advertising is usually a form unto itself, it can also appear within other genres such as via product placement within fictional television and film. Already, through this typography, Wood (2004) showcases the vast diversity that exists within reality television, already problematizing the use of reality tv as a genre. Problematizing this issue further is the forms of hybridity which have started manifesting themselves between these modes, which both increases the pre-existing diversity within the ‘genre’ and blurs lines between the fictitious and real.

Four major hinges or methods by which these previously stated modes are combined are Re-enactment, Diversion, Absorption and Infomercial. These all vary based on the modes that intermingle and how this remixing is achieved. Re-enactment is described as the reconstruction of real or external events using fictional techniques. Here the boundaries between reality and fiction are blurred due to the text’s preferentiality to the external world beyond the text, in contrast with the fundamental construction of the text as a work of fiction. Wood (2004) suggests that re-enactments often come with an implicit understanding that creative liberties have been taken in service of the narrative, demonstrating that this hinge is a less manipulative version of the hybridisation between fiction and fact. Diversion is a hybridization of Entertainment and fact, where people who are supposedly genuinely themselves – operating outside of designed spectacle – are depicted in generally mundane settings. Spectacle can occur in diversion, but it isn’t the intended purpose of the text to facilitate or cause this spectacle. Common versions of Diversion are blooper reels, behind-the-scenes documentaries or home video compilations. Diversion is a text type which emphases the mundane in the extraordinary and emphasises the extraordinary in the Mundane. As Langer (1998) suggests, there is a dimension of fictionality in such texts as well, where choices are made to artificially heighten this desired sense of mundane or extraordinary, and acting to characterise how both of these qualities are defined in society. Far more common in recent years is the two latter hybrid hinges of Absorption and Infomercial. In Absorption, vérité scenes and information are unpacked and recontextualised via a multitude of smaller dramatic recreations, editing techniques and the additions of a commentator. This is commonplace in certain subgenres of reality TV such as crime or medical shows, in game shows as well as more partisan news or infotainment organisations. Although the core material discussed by these texts are ostensibly real, the means in which such material is packaged can completely alter how the audience reads this information, and is capable of constructing very elaborate and contrived narratives from these readings, making Absorption sit at the crossroads of Fiction, fact and entertainment. Lastly, Infomercial is the practice of ‘program length commercials’, which are designed to sell a product through testimonials, re-enactments and demonstrations. Such texts are manipulative due to their layering of modes, namely fact and advertising, presenting themselves disingenuously as “quasi-news programmes or investigative consumer reports” in order to sell a product (Wood, 2004). As described, these hinges feature a complex interplay between various modes, especially that of fact, which can often be co-opted in order to smuggle in less verifiable truths or outright falsifications. The demonstrated hybridity that exists between these modes showcases a sophisticated relationship between reality television and many other forms of text where one cannot be as easily separated from the other.

By outlining the already complex primary modes of televisions, and then detailing how transgressions between these modes occur via hybrid hinges and their ability to obfuscate the boundaries between reality and fictional media, Wood (2004) underscores the fundamental impossibility of categorizing media using a binary which differentiates between real and artificial. This discussion compellingly conveys the increasing irrelevance of reality tv as a categorical tool and the need to develop a framework which better encompasses the diversity and complexity of television content.

Wood, B. (2004). A World in Retreat: The Reconfiguration of Hybridity in 20th-Century New Zealand Television. Media, Culture & Society, 45-62.

Smith, P. (2013). Heroic endeavours: flying high in New Zealand reality television. In N. Lorenzo-Dus, & P. Garces-Conejos Blitvich, Real Talk: Reality Television and Discourse Analysis in Action (pp. 140-165). Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan.

Langer, J. (1998). Tabloid Television. London: Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203135211

Week 11 response – Leo Ballantyne

How real is reality television?

The diversity that exists within the broad category of reality television, along with the significant diversity that can occur between individual texts that exist within the same sub-genre means it is fundamentally impossible to make a categorical claim regarding how ‘real’ reality television is. That being said, what can be discussed is the capacity of reality television to utilize artifice or manipulate the narrative in the process depicting real life events – how unreal reality television has the capacity to be in the right hands. As highlighted by Kilborn (1994), the primary motivation of most forms of television is to some degree to entertain the audience due to the financial incentives of high audience engagement. Even when a program or media organisation’s main goal is to inform, there are often ideological leanings they desire to transfer to the audience, derived either from a sense of genuine ethical concern or because these ideologies may benefit the owners of these organisations either politically or financially. This can be seen especially clearly in US news organisations, which are often funded by financial elites who desire to propagate political leanings which most benefit them (Vinton, 2016). Even these less directly entertainment based mediums often have a flair for the dramatic in order to ensure prolonged engagement. Between the need to elevate drama and sneak in ideology, reality television has developed a significant number of techniques which manipulate reality while maintaining the facade of authenticity.

One of the most prominent techniques utilized to construct drama, especially in game shows, but not exclusive to the genre alone, is how information is edited to construct a certain narrative. How scenes within a reality show are cut together as well as the superfluous layers added such as music and sound effects can completely alter the meaning of recorded scenes. Without the need to use a script, reality television shows can manufacture drama by cutting together dialogue and interactions which occurred in a different order or completely separately, while adding specific music to elevate the desired tone of the artificial moment (Walters, 2016). This technique is present beyond genres usually considered entertainment for ‘the lowest common denominator’. Nature documentaries often splice shots from various days of shooting together, with said shots sometimes being of completely different individuals of the same species. Along with the use of selective establishing shots and music among other editing techniques, such texts can construct a dramatic narrative viewers are more likely to engage and empathise with (Nguyen, 2017).

In a similar vein, how events are framed by context and additional information can be used to completely alter the audience’s reading of events or information. This technique is often exceedingly common in more biased news/infotainment organisations, where key pieces of information are excluded in order to craft a narrative which consists of half-truths. This occurs in more traditional forms of reality television as well. True crime producers are known to omit details on explored cases, and emphasise others in order to fit within the given dramatic narrative the producer is attempting to create through these real events (Leszkiewicz, 2016).

Additionally, two potentially manipulative techniques emphasised by Kilborn (1994) are the use of the reality television host and dramatic recreations of events. Hosts or narrators in reality television, fairly straightforwardly, provide additional layers of meaning to clips presented in the shows they host via voiceover and discussion. These added layers vary from merely implying a recommended audience response to explicit value judgements which are meant to more overtly direct the audience towards a specific response to the filmed scenes the commentator’s statements are connected to. These commentators can completely alter the tone and textual comprehension of the audience. Potentially more manipulative are dramatic re-enactments which are most frequent in docudramas and increasingly, news reports. These re-enactments are at face value used to fill gaps in the depiction of real narratives that occurred via artificially reconstructing them. Kilborn suggests that this technique can be used to smuggle in both drama and ideology. By emphasising specific senses, events and actors within these recreations, creators can evoke in the audience a different understanding of how certain events transpired compared to the realities of these situations. This can be used to intentionally elevate the dramatic or develop an account of events contradictory to dominant narratives. Both of these techniques have the potential to manipulate seemingly real events to the creators benefit.

While claims still cannot be made on how real reality television as a whole, looking at these prevalent techniques which are often used to obscure reality and construct fantasy in the guise of reality, we can make a fairly confident claim on reality television‘s capability to be false. When considering both the vast toolset reality television can use to potentially mislead, and the major financial incentives of dramatization and prolonged engagement, it becomes abundantly clear that most reality television texts manipulate us to some extent. The extent to which this manipulation occurs depends on both the nature of the text and our subjective understandings of what can be considered real, however what is made abundantly clear in this era of disinformation and rapid technological advancement is the desperate need for audiences to develop a critical toolset which can combat the more egregious instances of reality manipulation.

Kilborn, R. (1994). ‘How real can you get?’: Recent developments in ‘reality’ television. European Journal of Communication, 9(4), 421-439. DOI: 10.1177/0267323194009004003

Vinton, K. (2016). These 15 Billionaires Own America’s News Media Companies. Forbes. https://www.forbes.com/sites/katevinton/2016/06/01/these-15-billionaires-own-americas-news-media-companies/?sh=797dbd4d660a

Walters, L. (2016). Lights, camera and a whole lot of editing – making a reality TELEVISION villain. Stuff. https://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/television-radio/78140771/lights-camera-and-a-whole-lot-of-editing–making-a-reality-television-villain

Nguyen, H. (2017). How ‘Planet Earth II’ and Other Nature Docs Manipulate Footage to Mess With Our Emotions. Indiewire. https://www.indiewire.com/2017/04/nature-documentaries-fake-manipulated-video-1201809008/

Leszkiewicz, A. (2016). From Serial to Making a Murderer: can true crime as entertainment ever be ethical?. New Statesman. https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/television-radio/2016/01/serial-making-murderer-can-true-crime-entertainment-ever-be-ethical

Week 9 response – Leo Ballantyne

5. What are some of the tensions between productions like Sy-Fy Channel’s Heroes of Cosplay and fan-led Cosplay Music Videos (CMVs)?

Cosplay, at the core of its identity, has involved reappropriation and negotiation between performer and the source material from which each performance is inspired. As argued in my previous response, this relationship can be considered an intertextual form of détournement where via the cosplay community’s subversions and expansions, new understandings of source material is permanently altered. This fundamental interplay that occurs here has facilitated a certain set of cross-cultural characteristics which define the cosplay community and the hobby as a whole. Performers often play roles which are of a different gender to theirs within the source material, meaning gender roles are often challenged or disregarded both within performances and generally the community itself. This has seemingly manifested in a more progressive space which is supportive of a variety of gender and sexual identities. Similarly, race of characters is often subverted in cosplay performances, constructing a space where racial stereotypes, expectations and representation are openly discussed and frequently criticised. This subversive undercurrent leads to an implicit agreement within the fandom that cosplays are celebrations of source materials, not necessarily faithful reproductions, as such, physical and resource limitations are not points of contention between most members. These features encourage a generally supportive environment where values revolving around community, inclusivity, collaboration and experimentation are encouraged. Even in fashion/cosplay tournaments where this is a modicum of competition, the vast majority of the time a level of ludic and irreverence is present which prevents the more toxic modes of competition from occurring. As Mountfort (2018) suggests, the cosplay community when assessed by its best qualities is a “socially progressive/transgressive space where fans enact a kind of collective détournement.”

For the most part, static (or image based) cosphotography as a practice has done nothing to impede these values while providing a treasured means for cosplayers to show off their technical and creative talents in a non-competitive means. Due to the anonymity and far reaching nature of the internet, online dissemination of cosphotography has tragically enabled the proliferation of harmful gazes such as those that sexualise unwilling performers or those which are critical or mocking of a performer’s ‘ exotic geekiness’ or inability to faithfully replicate the source material. These negative consequences, although harmful, have more to do with the nature of the internet than cosphotography, and cosplayers can mitigate the effects of these gazes by selecting more judiciously who can see their performances. This relative harmlessness cannot be equally applied to the newer genre moving image cosphotography. When it comes to moving image, there is a tense conflict between various types of cosphotography and how they depict the practice and community. According to Lamerichs (2015), CMVs (cosplay music videos) are predominantly an extension of the cosplayers showing off their passion, while also enabling greater performative control on the side of the performer. CMVs being performer mediated also means that cosplays are able to transcend their traditionally fragmentary performances to create more purposeful and complete narrative explorations, enhancing the core role of cosplay as subversion and expansion of cited materials. When cosplay media becomes no longer performer mediated however, especially in regards to video content, a number of issues can arise where the creator misunderstands the core identity of cosplay and the community surrounding it. This is certainly the case for the Sy-Fy channel’s Heroes of Cosplay and similar non-performer created media.

Mountfort (2018) suggests that while most cosplays and by extension CMVs are acts of détournement, they are at threat of falling victim to the opposite phenomenon – récupération – where radical and fringe subcultures are subsumed and co-opted by the mainstream and corporate. This is what can often occur in outside productions such as Heroes of Cosplay, where marketable elements of cosplay are elevated while others are diminished. In the instance of Heroes of Cosplay, common criticisms suggest that sexual appeal, competition and craftsmanship are emphasized due to their ability to attract casual audiences while neglecting the primarily inclusive, supportive, collaborative and subversive nature of cosplay (Scott, 2015). This selective portrayal of cosplay leads to a form of moving image cosphotography which is decidedly corporate in its over-dramatization and problematic depictions of beauty standards and gender roles (Hanson, 2013). With this in mind, tension can be said to exist between CMVs and larger non performer mediated productions because while they tend to share the same medium, CMVs extend the inherent purpose of cosplay as citational acts which expand upon and subvert texts, while their corporate counterparts act to diminish it. It can be argued these corporate acts of récupération act to undermine the very identity of cosplayers and the cosphotography, such as CMVs, which they seek to create, by constructing false characterisations of the practice in pursuit of monetary gain.

Mountfort, P. (2018). Cosphotography and Fan Capital. In P. Mountfort, Peirson-Smitth, Anne, & A. Gaczy, Planet Cosplay (pp. 45-74). Bristol: Intellect Books.

Lamerichs, N. (2015). The remediation of the fan convention: Understanding the emerging genre of cosplay music videos. Transformative Works and Cultures, 18. https://doi.org/10.3983/twc.2015.0606.

Scott, S. (2015). Cosplay Is Serious Business: Gendering Material Fan Labor on Heroes of Cosplay. Cinema Journal. 53(3), 146-154. https://doi.org/10.1353/CJ.2015.0029

Hanson, B. (2013). Seven Reasons Why Heroes of Cosplay Is Terrible. Topless Robot. https://www.toplessrobot.com/2013/09/seven_reasons_why_heroes_of_cosplay_is_terrible_1.php

Week 8 response – Leo Ballantyne

2. What does the terms détournement mean and how is it applicable to cosplay?

Détournement as a practice refers to taking a text and “reappropriating” it via “creative disruption”, subverting the core messaging of the text or revealing its underlying ideology in a critical manner. This practice first emerged during the Situationalist movement, which used the technique to criticise many capitalist texts by reshuffling them and injecting a Marxist reading (Malitz, n.d.). In the context of cosplay, the exploration of Détournement is less politically charged, but still is an important tool in understanding Cosplay’s role as a “citational act” (Mountfort, 2018). Many early conceptions of cosplay’s relationship with the source material from which the costumes/performances are derived is one of mere ‘borrowing’ or theft where the performer temporarily references the source text in celebration of it. More recent theoretical approaches to Cosplay are less one-sided, suggesting a more complex exchange between text and performance. While these frameworks still acknowledge that this relationship is citational and intertextual in nature – requiring the replication of elements from the source material, they also argue that by performing characters from these texts in new dimensions and contexts can act as a type of Détournement, where creative intent is subverted and new understandings of the original text are constructed. These arguments suggest that cosplay is not merely replication, but also a non-canonical addition to the cited text, operating in a very similar way to fanfiction by recontextualizing and expanding upon the franchise’s identity. Discussed by Mountfort (2018) are a few notable ways in which this subversion and contribution can occur. Frequently within cosplay, concessions must be made in the performance of a text due to the physical limitations of a performer, resulting in character depictions which may vary in gender, body shape and race. These recontextualizations, while referential, provide new means to understand the performed character while potentially criticising the source material’s limited depiction of race, body or gender. This highlights the existence of intentionally satirical or critical performances which also occur in cosplay, where elements of characters are stylistically altered to a point where they are still recognisable but communicate a disparate message, one which often subverts the audience’s initial comprehension of source material. Even in instances where the performer intends to faithfully replicate all elements of the original text, the fundamentally limited act of translation between image/text and bodily performance means the performer will be forced to extract the character from its initial position in setting and narrative and position it within a new one, providing a potentially unintended reinterpretation and expansion of text. While such a performance can never capture the narrative of a source material as a whole (Gn, 2011), via this extraction and positioning within the performer’s life, Mountfort (2018) points out that the character becomes involved within a new narrative, again underlining how cosplay shares qualities of Détournement with fanfiction. While these new narratives are not directly connected to the cannon of the text a cosplay cites, a character’s inherent ability to allude to the narrative which they traditionally exist within means that these additional narratives act to construct new understandings the same way a fanfiction might. Especially in late capitalism where characters often exist within transmedia franchises and cannot be tied to one singular canon identity, cosplay and other forms of fan interactions provide significant agency to the audience in regards to defining the brands of characters and their franchises going forward. By presenting Détournement in association with postmodern theories of audience consumption, Mountfort (2018) explores cosplay not only as a means to honour a text, but as a means for a community to fundamentally shape the media they consume.

Mountfort, P. (2018). Cosplay as Citation. In P. Mountfort, A. Peirson-Smith, & A. Geczy, Planet Cosplay (pp. 21-38). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Malitz, Z. (n.d.). Détournement/Culture jamming. Beautiful Trouble. https://beautifultrouble.org/tactic/detournementculture-jamming/

Gn, J. (2011). Queer simulation: The practice, performance and pleasure of cosplay. Continuum, 25(2), 583-593. https://doi.org/10.1080/10304312.2011.582937

Week 10 response – Leo Ballantyne

1. On what grounds does Mountfort (2018) dispute Williams’ (1990) view that the I Ching does not figure in the novel aside from a few oracle consultations?

As stated within the question itself, Paul Williams’ “The Author and the Oracle” (1990) suggests that the I Ching is a narrative device of limited importance to the overall themes and narrative of the acclaimed alt-history novel The Man in the High Castle. Mountfort on the other hand, claims this oracle is core to constructing thematic complexity throughout the text as a whole as well as enabling an appropriate reading of the text’s ambiguous conclusion. Central to this claim is the presented idea that the I Ching’s role in the text facilitates the exploration of the philosophical notion of Synchronicity and postmodernism as a framework. The I Ching can best be described as a divination text developed in the Western Zhou period of ancient China to both predict the future and suggest appropriate courses of action to the reader. Multiple times throughout The Man in the High Castle, characters seek the guidance of the I Ching, which in turn informs their course of actions and instigates many of the plot points within the novel. The ongoing prescience of the I Ching in the narrative showcases that at least within this literary setting, there is a level of Synchronicity which dictates the future.

Unlike the common conception of that events occur due to the interplay of many different observable systems and earlier events the precede them in time, Synchronicity as a theory suggests that events occur instead due to unfathomable connections between all things in the universe, and are not in fact random, but dictated by a ‘universal unconscious’ (Radford, 2014). By presenting the I Ching as a means to comprehend reality in an alt-history context, Dick explores the postmodern notion that the reality of this fictional world, and by extension our own, is not necessarily determined by western notions of linear causality or the ‘diachronic’. The I Ching is further used to explore this concept via structural parallels between characters in the text, especially in reference to their use of this oracle. Many of the characters use the I Ching in order to seek answers throughout the text, with the oracle repeatedly providing similar answers to those in similar circumstances, leading to an unknowable connection between these actors both in regards to the events of the story as well as through their shared experiences with the I Ching. These narrative parallels further explore the philosophy that events and individuals are connected by irrational mechanisms, almost as if driven by larger unknowable cosmic cycles. Mountfort posits that without the centrality of the I Ching to these obscured connections, the novel would be unable to function as it does, and therefore this device plays an important role in both the stylistic and thematic choices made in the creation of the text.

Dick also seemingly utilizes the I Ching to underline similarities between our world and that of the text. In The Man in the High Castle, the titular character of the text is an alt-reality version of Dick, who has written his own alt-reality novel which depicts a world roughly similar to ours using the I Ching, much like Dick used the I Ching to plan his novel. Mountfort claims that the intentional mirroring between the two, enabled once more by the I Ching, acts to question whether our reality is any more real than the reality depicted within the novel, adding a postmodern, metafictional element to the novel. This metafictional element is the crux of the conclusion, where the I Ching reveals to the protagonists that the reality constructed by Hawthorne Abendsen also exists in some capacity. Here the I Ching is used once more to enhance the postmodern trend of deconstructing the frameworks we use to understand our reality. Dick uses this conclusion to establish an intertextual interplay between the novel, the internal novel, and our reality, at the centre of which is the I Ching and the philosophies carried with it. With Mountfort highlighting the various narrative and thematic explorations provided by the I Ching, it becomes abundantly clear that Williams’ interpretation of the device is limited at best.

Mountfort, P. (2016). The I Ching and Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle. Science Fiction Studies, 43(2), 287-309. https://doi:10.5621/sciefictstud.43.2.0287

Williams, P. (1990, December). The author and the oracle. PKDS Newsletter, (25), 1-10.

Radford, B. (2014). Synchronicity: Definition & Meaning. Live Science. https://www.livescience.com/43105-synchronicity-definition-meaning.html

Week 5 response – Leo Ballantyne

Looking at Napier and Cavallaro (2006), discuss how anime is culturally ‘located’ – in the East or West, or somewhere else?

It would be impossible to deny the uniquely Japanese roots of Anime. As described by Napier (2005), anime as a medium has evolved from a complex interplay of Japanese cultural traditions, including Woodblock painting and later Manga, amongst others. This translates to many of the conventions and design elements present within anime being wholly Japanese in origin. That being said, we exist in an increasingly globalised word where there is an ongoing exchange of ideas, technical knowledge and creative products. As both Napier and Cavallaro (2006) showcase in their respective texts, this exchange has caused a metamorphosis, where anime’s identity is no longer solely Japanese in character, being derived from a combination eastern and western cultural influences. While Napier explores on a wider scale how anime has been influenced by the pervading globalization of the 20th and 21st centuries, causing this previously mentioned shift in identity, Cavallaro highlights this transformation through the exploration of Hayao Miyazaki’s animated filmography.

From a consumer perspective, anime is certainly no longer located in Japan alone, with a significant viewership having developed in the western world. When Napier published her book in 2005, she wrote about a growing anime following outside of japan, with works, such as Miyazaki’s films and Akira making notable splashes in the international box office. Since this time, Anime’s popularity has only continued to explode. Particularly popular shows such as Dragonball, Pokémon and One piece all made their way onto popular spots on broadcast television, and the transition to streaming services has meant many major providers such as Netflix and Hulu have added anime titles to their catalogue. Now anime exclusive streaming services, such as Crunchyroll, have established themselves as competitors to these western streaming giants (Laux, 2019). This major following not only suggests that anime studios undoubtedly feel a pressure to cater to non-Japanese audiences, but that anime has a fundamental ability to transcend cultural barriers that other eastern mediums may lack. Napier and Cavallaro both provide extensive explanations as to why this universality exists within anime.

Anime, even in the early days of the medium, was created predominantly by a younger Japanese generation who had been exposed to western art and entertainment caused by the lasting colonial chokehold of the global cultural marketplace. This exposure led to anime adopting many influences from western film, television and literature alongside its traditional Japanese roots. Creators would often design settings which weren’t entirely Japanese in nature, with many of Miyazaki’s films amongst other anime utilizing European iconography, mythos and environments, and others creating fictional, culturally non-specific settings that avoid or merge cultural elements from a multitude of societies. Even in settings which are clearly Japanese in nature, cultural barriers are often overcome by the exploration of themes which are universal in their message. Cavallaro particularly emphasises this point, discussing how many of Miyazaki’s works engage with themes of coming of age, environmental destruction, the dangers of unrestrained capitalism and the brutality of totalitarianism, all of which are themes western audiences and beyond can engage with. Similarly, films like Akira discuss the threat of rapid technological advancement, fear of nuclear apocalypse and degradation of community values. While many of these themes do originate from the lasting trauma inherited by the Japanese from the Second World War, their messages engage with fundamental aspects and fears of all human societies. Finally, both academics highlight many technical elements inherited from western cinema tradition. Anime is very much an adaptation of manga, adopting an art style and a mise-en-scene which is which is deeply reminiscent of this earlier medium, however in the process of transition from stage to screen, many studios, including studio Ghibli, opted to use a distinctly western use of cinematographic techniques, including westernised frame movement and shot transition, along with elements of western animation’s fluidity. The combination of these various elements acts to create narratives that western audiences can at least partially understand and relate to.

Through highlighting the sheer scale of interplay that occurs between Japanese and western discourse and texts within anime, both Napier (2005) and Cavallaro (2006) outline the fact that anime cannot be culturally located easily within Japan alone. Much like western cinema, which increasingly features a great many cultural influences, anime has become a product of the global community. Despite its undeniable ties to Japan, anime now operates in an ambiguous grey area between western and eastern, and as cultural boundaries continue to blur, this evolution will only exacerbate anime’s international identity.

Napier, S. (2005). Why anime? In Anime: from Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle (pp.3-34). Hampshire: Palgrave/ Macmillan.

Cavallaro, D. (2006). Anime Art of Hayao Miyazaki (pp 5-28). Jefferson: McFarland & Company, Incorporated Publishers.

Laux, C. (2019). Is Japanese anime going mainstream? BBC Future. https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20191127-the-spirited-world-of-japanese-anime

Week 4 response – Leo Ballantyne

2. Is anime a high or low cultural medium, according to Susan Napier (2005) and what are some of its subgenres?

As stated by Napier (2005), the nature of providing cultural value to any given text is often immensely mercurial – with factors such as time period, audience demographics and social-economic context all affecting whether various genres are considered ‘high’ or ‘low’ culture. With this in mind, Napier provides an argument as to why by the subjective standards of the time, many anime works could be considered high culture – with their ability to address complex sociological themes, expand upon cultural traditions and engage a wide range of audiences. While anime operates like any other medium in the sense that there is a wide variety of quality and complexity which is present within the genre, Napier suggests that specific texts provide similar thematic depth and cultural reflection to that of anime’s more traditional counterparts such as Manga, woodblock printing and live-action film.

Unlike western animation, which has only just recently managed to begin diversifying away from children’s entertainment and adult comedy, with shows such as Bojack Horseman and Midnight Gospel starting to explore mature themes of addiction, depression and mental health (Chow, 2019), Japanese animation has managed for some time to tell mixed stories in a wide range of mature and immature genres. Sci-fi, fantasy, horror, medieval drama, mystery and romance are among some of the narrative types which are present within anime, many of which are consumed by a wide range of demographics, from children to the elderly. This diversity in subgenre enables a diversity in theme which aids in anime’s ability to be considered a ‘high’ cultural medium. Anime is also intrinsically tied to, and informed by previous high cultural Japanese traditions. Japan has a rich pictographic tradition between the ancient woodblock printing responsible, and the deeply visual literature of manga which borrows from this earlier tradition. Anime’s art style is heavily inspired by these historical movements, and the narratives depicted are often directly borrowed from manga series, especially in televised anime shows which are more capable of depicting the content dense narratives of the manga they are adapting. This intrinsic link to Japan’s cultural heritage, according to Napier (2005) adds a further layer of legitimacy to anime as a high cultural medium.

Finally, Napier highlights that thematic complexity, which reflects, subverts and enhances Japanese cultural understandings is often presented within Anime movies and series using three major thematic modes which their creators use to construct meaning. The first mode is that of Apocalypse. In many apocalypse anime, society has experienced some form of collapse – whether it be via physical or ideological destruction – and a main cast of characters must attempt to traverse the world that is left behind. This mode is most frequently used as a vehicle to explore Japanese social anxieties regarding the decay of traditional values, the growing destructive scope of technology and environmental degradation. Katsuhiro Otomo’s 1988 anime Akira embodies this mode in a number of significant ways. Akira’s cyberpunk dystopia depicts a world where an apocalypse which caused mass death has facilitated the birth of a new society which lacks significant care for family and community and emphasises unrestrained individualism and greed. The multiple cataclysms that occur within the film are very much an analogy for the atomic bombings that decimated Nagasaki and Hiroshima, as well as a reflection of Japan’s newfound fear of rapid and irresponsible technological advancement. Similarly, the ideological apocalypse that has occurred within the world of Akira reflects the post-war anxiety that such widespread destruction, which tore many families apart, had dealt irreparable damage to the country’s entrenched social values (Schley, 2018). As represented here, the mode of apocalypse is capable of expressing complicated social understandings and exploring broad questions of human nature and cultural trauma. The second mode identified by Napier, carnival, is more so an expression of frustration at the current restrictive status quo, and a cathartic escape from these norms. In carnival, the absurd is embraced and traditional roles, which are often quite restrictive in japan, are reversed and upturned, if only momentarily, celebrating the taboo and unconventional. Finally, the mode Napier describes as elegy evokes a sense of loss and tragedy, where texts explore the impermanence of many of life’s pleasures, the loss of innocence, the lasting impacts of trauma and the passage of time – concepts core to the human experience. These modes, used together within Japan’s anime scene, have constructed a rich thematic tapestry which has facilitated impactful cultural discourse throughout both Japan and much of the globalised world. With this in mind, it can hardly be argued that anime doesn’t constitute a high cultural medium, if such a category should exist.

Napier, S. (2005). Why anime? In Anime: from Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle (pp.3-34). Hampshire: Palgrave/ Macmillan.

Chow, A. (2019). Adult Animation Is Pushing New Boundaries. A Look Inside Its Evolution from The Simpsons to BoJack Horseman. Time. https://time.com/5752400/adult-animation-golden-age/

Schley, M. (2018). ‘Akira’: Looking back at the future. The Japan Times. https://features.japantimes.co.jp/akira-new/

Week 3 response – Leo Ballantyne

Why might the queering of Tintin offer new life to the series?

It can hardly be contested that the Tintin comic series has had a tumultuous past in regards to appropriate and respectful representation. Between historical issues with overt racist messaging and a consistent scarcity of positively presented, independent female characters (Mountfort, 2020), controversy and criticism have been persistent fixtures within the series’ lifespan. While Herge was for the most part able to remedy the most egregious of the racist themes present within his earlier works from The Blue Lotus onwards, his representation of gender and sexuality have progressed at a relative snail’s pace in comparison. This lack of progression has led many academics to search for sublimated representation in response. Tintin, having been designed to be intentionally lacking in both sexuality and traditional masculine features, has been the target of the vast majority of this speculation. It has been suggested repeatedly, that although never explicitly stated, Tintin was coded to operate outside of traditional sexual and/or gender norms. The claims vary significantly in nature, from suggestions that Tintin was bisexual with near incestuous attraction to his parental figures, to claims he is a homosexual man in a relationship with Captain Haddock (McCarthy, 2006), a tomboy, a transgendered man or a genderqueer individual (Mountfort, 2012). If any of these prior readings turned out to be true, even the stranger claims, they would undoubtedly act to provide new life to the comic series by retroactively addressing Herge’s lack of progressive commentary revolving around sexuality and gender norms.

Tragically, considering Herge’s conservative roots, I would contend none of these potential readings were intended by the author. Additionally, since Herge never made any explicit claim to confirm such notions, we cannot reasonably consider any of these readings as representation, since queer-coding is no substitute for open and clear representation. If those who currently control the creative direction of the Tintin franchise were to inexplicably decide to retroactively queer Tintin, the question remains how such a retcon would best be performed in order to breathe new life into the series. Many of the potential options posited by academics would likely be read as disingenuous, problematic and more harmful than helpful in many cases. The stereotype that a gay couple requires a traditionally masculine and feminine pairing that many earlier academics derived their queer claims from, are reductive and shouldn’t be used as a basis for this queering. On a similar note, a homoerotic relationship between the Captain and Tintin is open to problematic readings regards the power dynamic between the two, especially considering Haddock is often read as a father figure and guardian to Tintin, who in turn is implied to potentially be much younger than him. Characterising Tintin as having a gender identity outside cis male also has a number of troubling implications, even when ignoring the fact that queering which undermines pre-existing canon is often seen as patronising and disingenuous to queer audiences (see the many criticisms of J.K. Rowling’s retroactive world building). This change would enforce the toxic stereotype that cis men cannot be seen as feminine or androgynous without being secretly queer in some regard. This implication would be doubly troublesome if Tintin were to be reinvented as a trans man, with the suggestion that trans men are inherently less masculine than biological males. With these considerations in mind, I would suggest the most respectful and genuine means to queer Tintin would be to present him as Asexual. This avoids many of the pitfalls that other options present.

Making Tintin Asexual fits somewhat neatly within pre-established cannon considering Tintin has never overtly expressed sexual attraction to any gender, therefore perfectly meshing with Tintin’s existing identity. Such a change would also communicate to readers that one does not require a romantic or sexual partner in order to live a complete and exciting life, while avoiding any harmful stereotypes often associated with this given sexuality. Although this change would do very little to address Herge’s lack of meaningful gender discussion, I would argue introducing a new character who could address these issues would enable the creators to avoid the problems associated with queering Tintin in this manner. This potential representation would also encourage the exploration of Tintin’s platonic love through his enduring relationships with characters such as Haddock and Chang, while providing desperately needed representation to a thoroughly underrepresented queer demographic. Representation is incredibly important, providing vulnerable demographics with messaging which confirms their validity and allows them to enhance their understanding of self and self-worth (Cogo, 2017). Queering Tintin would undeniably assist in the admirable pursuit of respectful and fair representation, in a series which has been historically lacking, however we must ensure such changes are made respectfully to both the identity of the text and those that require representation.

Mountfort, P. (2020). Tintin, gender and desire. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics. https://doi.org/10.1080/21504857.2020.1729829

Mountfort, P. (2011). ‘Yellow skin, Black hair … careful, Tintin’: Hergé and orientalism. Australasian Journal of Popular Culture, 1(1), 33-49. https://doi.org/10.1386/ajpc.1.1.33_1

McCarthy, T. 2006. Tintin and the Secret of Literature. London: Granta

Cogo, F. Why Queer Representation Matters. New America. https://www.newamerica.org/weekly/why-queer-representation-matters/

Week 2 response – Leo Ballantyne

How decisively did Hergé address this issue (of representation) from The Blue Lotus on, and in what ways did it remain problematic?

As detailed by Mountfort (2012), It would be difficult to argue that The Blue Lotus didn’t symbolise a change in direction for Hergé and the Tintin Series. In this text Hergé actively challenges many of the racist ideals that were present in his earlier texts. Harmful and sinophobic caricatures of Chinese nationals as cartoonish torturers and executioners were replaced with much more respectful and complex representation. Ideas of paternal imperialism that were prevalent in his earlier works are openly mocked in this text, as are similar notions of western supremacy and orientalism. For the most part Hergé’s portrayal of China is complex and politically empathetic towards the country’s long standing struggles against colonialist forces, both western and eastern. After The Blue Lotus, it appeared as if Hergé moved away from the overt racist themes and depictions present in earlier texts, however as many academics such as Mountfort and Dunnett (2009) identify, this ideological shift was likely a reduction in degree opposed to a complete political heel turn. Mountfort highlights that the Tintin comics continued to receive criticism on occasion for a series of unflattering caricatures, including representation of Japanese within The Blue Lotus itself, who were drawn as ‘pig-nosed’ and ‘slit-eyed’. This problematic depiction of the other, showcased Hergé was still capable of harmful characterisation either due to naiveté or his embedded catholic and conservative roots. Depictions of Africans as naive and requiring a white saviour in The Red Sea Sharks, and of Jewish people as an antagonistic force in The Shooting Star which published during Nazi Germany’s occupation of Belgium, are both examples of Hergé’s lasting struggle with respectful representation.

Similar criticisms further highlight potential remnants of Hergé’s conservative worldview and need to present an antagonised other via his construction of fictitious Balkan states of Borduria and Syldavia which present an almost orientalist and reductive view of the eastern European world, while idealising certain forms of European monarchy in the process. Dunnett also observed that the concepts of European predominance that characterised the themes of paternalistic imperialism in Hergé’s early works still remained throughout the later instalments of the series to a lesser degree. Tintin often participates in foreign conflicts as a mediator, providing ‘European expertise’ to various communities that are implicitly less capable at resolving the current contentions themselves (Dunnett, 2009), and western science is repeatedly used by Tintin to resolve the issues of supposedly less developed communities (Mountfort, 2012). The Adventures of Tintin’s Pervasive anti-Americanism, although presented as a critique of rampant and unfettered capitalism, is argued by Dunnett as having the same ideological origin – the supremacy of traditional European values.

Despite these criticisms of lasting problematic notions, there can be no doubt that a significant improvement occurred during and after the creation of The Blue Lotus. Although Hergé slipped up infrequently with a harmful notion or characterization in his later comics, many readers remember the Tintin series not for these occasional errors, but for the consistent encouragement of “timeless values” (Calamur, 2016) such as collaboration, tolerance, loyalty and protection of the vulnerable. The series’ transformation from a glamorized conservative propaganda piece to one that denounced Colonialism, dictatorship, exploitation and prejudice was an admirable and decisive shift in the right direction from Hergé. The core identity of the Tintin comics has been argued by some less critical academics as always having revolved around peaceful negotiation of political conflict, even in its more problematic years, and the development of Hergé’s understanding of the world has merely better allowed him to communicate this underlying egalitarian message in a more respectful manner (Rösch, 2014). With increasing awareness of coded narratives and social justice, it is however important to question whether this transformation was enough to overcome the prevailing problematic elements of the series that continue to exist to some degree even in the most modern of Tintin comics. Popular media, especially that consumed in childhood, defines in many ways how we see the world, making it increasingly important that its messaging promotes racial tolerance, understanding and fairness – In this regard Hergé’s creation has consistently succeeding in some regards, and tragically failed in others.

References

Mountfort, P. (2012). ‘Yellow skin, black hair … Careful, Tintin’: Hergé and Orientalism. Australasian Journal of Popular Culture, 1(1), 34-49. https://doi.org/10.1386/ajpc.1.1.33_1

Dunnett, O. (2009). Identity and geopolitics in Hergé’s Adventures of Tintin. Social & Cultural Geography, 10(5), 583-589. https://doi.org/10.1080/14649360902974449

Rösch, F. (2014). ‘Hooray! Hooray! the End of the World has been Postponed!’ Politics of Peace in the Adventures of Tintin?. Politics, 34(3), 225-236. https://doi-org.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/10.1111/1467-9256.12024

Calamur, K. (2016). Coming to Terms With Tintin. The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2016/06/tintin/485501/

Week One Response – Leo Ballantyne

Storytelling has always existed at the core of human culture and society. A recent study of a Filipino hunter-gatherer tribe; the Agta, discovered that even in this pre-agricultural community, stories were being used to encourage concepts of cooperation, compromise and gender equality (Young, 2017). Such findings, coupled with the existence of cultural sites like the Chauvet caves, suggest that storytelling has, since the dawn of human civilization, informed and enforced cultural ideals, traditions and material realities. It is bizarre then, that for much of western civilization, the majority of the academic world has regarded some of the most popular and widespread forms of storytelling as lacking analytical value. For much of modern history popular genres and popular literatures were derided by academia as being low culture – trope filled texts designed to be easily consumable and marketable opposed to challenging and ideologically complex. As a result, literary discussion and criticism was predominantly directed at more traditional, exclusive and high-culture literary fiction, with popular fiction rarely analysed. On the rare occurrences that literary fiction and mass media was discussed in academic circles, it was often used to highlight the supposed degradation of modern society, or analysed through the lens of propaganda and persuasion (Bates and Ferri, 2010).

Schneider-Mayerson (2010) in ‘Popular Fiction Studies: The Advantages of a New Field’ chronicles the steady increase of popular genres’ legitimacy within academic discourse. This shift in attitude was supposedly spearheaded by the advent of the new left and second-wave feminism during the early eighties, both focusing upon the dismantling of embedded hierarchies, ideological and physical. The distinction between elite and low culture was one such hierarchy that faced significant scrutiny, being considered an arbitrary and classist tool which acted to exclude the working class from cultural and historical narratives (Schneider-Mayerson, 2010). Many new age academics from this period rightly pointed out that popular genres were just as, if not more influential and reflective of modern society than their high culture counterparts, being significantly more socially pervasive than literary fiction. An early example of this increased academic interest in popular genres was feminist academics’ criticism of popular romances as frequently passivizing women and characterising them as lacking romantic agency (Schneider-Mayerson, 2010). From here the field blossomed, and the study of popular genres has become increasingly mainstream within cultural and literary academia, although the academic bias towards literary fiction no doubt remains at the core of many literary studies.

The elevation of popular genres in academia is an important step in understanding human society and culture. As stated above, storytelling, especially that which is highly propagated within a society, reflects upon said society as a whole via the process of its creation and audience’s reception to the text. Stories have the ability to shape how we understand the world, and popular narratives in many ways can be considered a modernised version of myth and religion. In this regard, it is important to understand the messages communicated within these texts. Improved analysis and understanding has aided in the deconstruction of cultural movements, as well as contributed to the growing trend of problematic ideas and tropes being properly acknowledged and criticised in order to reduce their impact. By taking emphasis away from culturally-elite literature, voices from marginalised authors traditionally excluded from cultural canon have started to be given a place of greater importance in academic and cultural discourse. This elevation of marginalised voice has likely been invaluable in educating the wider public on issues faced by minority demographics such as the POC and queer communities.

On a smaller scale, this developing cultural awareness of popular genres has allowed authors and creators to experiment with the conventions and limitations of various genres, testing limits and exploring new thematic and narrative avenues. Thematically rich genre-fiction has come to hold a place of cultural importance similar to the position once held exclusively by literary fiction, facilitating a blurring of lines between genres and the concepts which they can engage with (Rothman, 2014). While still growing, the study of popular genres has already provided invaluable insight into the constantly shifting cultural and social norms of global society, and has rightfully acknowledged the value of such texts in shaping and reflecting our world.

References

Bates, S., & Ferri, A. (2010). What’s Entertainment? Notes Toward a Definition. Studies in Popular Culture, 33(1), 1-20. https://www-jstor-org.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/stable/23416316?seq=13#metadata_info_tab_contents

Schneider-Mayerson, M. (2010). Popular Fiction Studies: The Advantages of a New Field. Studies in Popular Culture, 33(1), 21-35. https://www.jstor.org/stable/23416317?seq=7#metadata_info_tab_contents

Young, E. (2017). The Desirability of Storytellers. The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/12/the-origins-of-storytelling/547502/

Rothman, J. (2014). A Better Way to Think About the Genre Debate. The New Yorker. https://www.newyorker.com/books/joshua-rothman/better-way-think-genre-debate