Saturday, January 07, 2006
Rollergrrrrls
posted by RICK : 11:12 AM
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."
-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
"Camp and irony have come to the point where we can no longer deem something legitimately awful."-BAP
At the time of that quote Mr. Flextimer and I were discussing the incredibly ridiculous pop-sensation "My Humps." He stated, justifiably, that it might be the single worst song ever to hit the charts. While I don't totally agree with the sentiment (every era has its radio mysteries-- "Baby Got Back" anyone?), I completely understand his reasoning: irony is out of control.
In the current climate everything is good, because even if it may come off as bad, it can be spun into a "cult sensation" or "guilty pleasure." And while I'm as guilty of this as anyone (yeah, I've downloaded "My Humps" AND listen to it frequently), it is absolutely destroying popular media. No wonder Arrested Development is getting canceled. Why would a network or studio want to shell out dollars for a good writing team when they can simply put a camera in a room full of retarded leprechauns and let the ad money simply roll in?
Being greeted with indifference is perhaps the worst fate for a show. When good is good and bad is good, the only real "bad" is mediocrity, which just might be the death-blow to the legitimately good program Rollergirls (A&E, Mondays @ 10pm est)- a "reality" show about the girls (or is it grrrls?) who compete in the Lone Star Rollergirls league in Austin. I quoted "reality" because this show is produced by the genius team that brought the world "Laguna Beach"-- an almost cinematic reality program on MTV designed to compete with FOX's fictional "The OC." I can't get myself to watch "Laguna." Not because I take issue with it's liberal use of the reality-moniker (after all, we've gone everywhere from The Real World to Survivor to the Joe Schmo Show to K-Street to the West West Wing, and who really gives a fuck if the characters are real or not*) but because I take issue with the show's peddling of a lifestyle where a bunch of rich cunts drive SUVs and paint their nails and complain about boys and their lives and how daddy didn't love them all while throwing rocks at the maid and forcing the immigrant gardener to-- look I've never seen this show. I have no idea what actually happens on it, but it doesn't matter. The IDEA of "Laguna Beach" is enough to make me hate it-- which happens to be draped in layers of irony as a slightly colder version of myself would probably LOVE it. So bad it's good, right? Wrong. The difference being that, in my mind, the target audience is 13-15 year-old girls who aren't going to interpret the show as anything other than "this is the way I'm suppose to live." I find this completely wreckless. Move the show to M2 and play it before "Wonder Shozen" and suddenly we're talking about a different beast altogether. But we aren't.
What makes "Rollergirls" significant is that it does what television is so perfect at-- giving the viewer a look into a lifestyle that is not their own. And in the case of this show, that lifestyle isn't necessarily one about indie-chicks wearing fishnets and beating the living piss out of one another, its about a generation of 20-somethings who aren't graphic designers or rock critics or running internet companies, but are carving out a place for themselves in an America that increasingly seems to think they don't matter. Look, Zach Braff didn't invent the quarter-life-crisis and for some people changing your life might need to be a little more visceral than "New Slang," which is to say that, yes, the fishnets and beating the piss out of one another is a definite plus.
What I responded to while watching the premiere episode on my computer last night was that this is the type of show that has the capability of attracting a demographic desperately in need of mainstream validation. Those people being the heartland's media elite. Digital cable, the internet and Netflix have made it possible for anyone not living in New York or Los Angeles to be as media savvy as their pretentious coast-dwelling kin. "Rollergirls" is a purple-state show if ever there was one. It takes place in the heart of Texas, though that heart happens to be Austin (the oasis). Also, the characters are predominantly middle-to-lower class-- a group that has been severely under-served across the television spectrum since the cancellation of Roseanne. Of course, this isn't the case for all of them. One girl, Venis Envy, who was the focus of this first episode was a former art-student who decided to buy a camper with her hipster boyfriend and travel the country living nomad life. This sounds like hipster chic, until you realize living out of a van is, generally speaking, not the American dream, but maybe for some-- actually I kind of hope it is.
Most refreshing, though, is Rollergirls' blatant sexuality that is everpresent, but never comes off as forced. The creators do an great job of presenting the girls as matter-of-fact as possible. I mean, let's not kid ourselves here, the underlying principles in Roller Derby are the marketing of sex and violence as entertainment, and perhaps that's exactly why it seems to work so well. This isn't WWE. The girls aren't silicone filled body-builders. They are, simply put, incredibly regular-- only tattooed, wearing little and kicking ass. It's post-feminist, but what's better is that its solidly representational of people living in the mid-United States. Also, a Hilton sister is nowhere to be found.
It should probably be noted that the last reality show I watched all the way through was The Real World #10 (back in New York), and even then the only reason I could justify watching was that I found myself stuck in front of a television running a marathon once and figured, what the hell. Perhaps this explains why I find the show so fantastic. Maybe "Rollergirls" is a reality show for people who patently hate reality shows. Unsurprisingly, more than one critic finds it bottom-rung, but I would argue that they simply don't know the audience.
Which brings things back to the original problem. If "Rollergirls" fails it will be because it isn't all that groundbreaking in the tradition "its not TV" sort of way and will hardly garner any sort of acclaim (this isn't the Amazing Fucking Race, now is it?), and yet it isn't the campy mess some were probably hoping for, making the series a perfect supplement to a 40 and pot-brownies. "Rollergirls" should not be missed, despite these shortcomings. Real or not, its representational of America, and not the guilty-pleasure part of America... the part that is just pleasure. Pleasure, and life.
NOTE: I feel like this subject matter also lends itself to the subject of co-opting indie-culture. Or the notion of indie-culture for the masses, and how utterly ridiculous that phrase is, but I've written too much. Perhaps another day.
*Interesting sidebar: I'm kind of fascinated by what level or realism people want out of their media. Most dramas score points for being as true-to-life they can possibly be. A show labeled as "gritty" is suppose to be "real" which then theoretically makes it "good." And yet, no one apparently wants to watch a comedy that is real, because it makes them uncomfortable (which is why, I suppose, The Office, can't hold onto Earl's numbers-- a show that is exceptionally unreal). What's even more peculiar is that the "Reality" programming that people respond to are all based on premises that border on the surreal. I mean, there's a "Reality Show" whose name is "The Surreal Life" and if anyone can explain that to me, I'll ship you your weight in aged cheese. The Real World has never really been about (save for the first 2.3 seasons) BEING REAL. Reality rarely comes with a furnished loft and the ability NOT to work. In fact, one of my favorite seasons, New Orleans (8), actually had a character who was rarely in the show because he went out and got a job.
This seems to carry itself over to movies as well, but more in terms of what audiences are suppose to be scared of:
If Chloe Sevigny gives Vincent Gallo a tragic blowjob, "The Brown Bunny" gets released UNRATED or suffers from the dreadful NC-17 box-office killer, and yet Hollywood can go mad-crazy for the burgeoning torchure porn genre of horror filmmaking and no one thinks twice about it.
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(co-creator)
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