7 research outputs found
Lesbian "Femininity" on Television
Over the past five years, lesbian images on TV have generated a multitude of headlines like these.1 The L Word, Work Out, and South of Nowhere have triggered battles among critics, scholars, and members of the TV industry about the implications of lesbian femininity on television. Each show predominantly features stereotypically feminine lesbian characters. Showtimeâs soap opera The L Word follows a closelyknit web of lesbian friends and lovers living in West Hollywood. Bravoâs reality series Work Out stars openly lesbian gym owner and personal trainer Jackie Warner, and shows the daily lives of Warner, her entourage of personal trainers, and their clients. The N Networkâs South of Nowhere is a teen drama about a family dealing with charged issues like teen pregnancy, interracial families, and the daughterâs coming out experiences
Ryan Murphy\u27s Queer America
Panel Abstract: Ryan Murphy is, along with other legendary television creator-producers like Shonda Rhimes, a highly productive showrunner who specifically positions his work as politically resistant in its foregrounding of underrepresented identities both before the camera and behind the scenes. With over twenty different programs from police and medical procedurals to limited-series historical reconsiderations, from network blockbusters to quirky independent niche content, Ryan Murphyâs Queer America contains multitudes, and that is a statement not only about sensibility but expressed intent. In interviews about his creative work, Murphy articulates a committed effort to speak to and portray underrepresented voices. Murphyâs self-appointed role as an interventionist in Hollywoodâs historical lack of non-white, non-heterosexual, and non-cisgender representation finds a litmus test in his and Ian Brennanâs 2020 Netflix limited series Hollywood, which imagines alternative histories for troubled, neglected, or disenfranchised stars such as Rock Hudson, Anna May Wong, and Hattie McDaniel. With the FX series Pose (2018-21), about the transgender ballroom scene of the 1980s and â90s, Murphy has made it clear that his show will reflect not only a queer but also a race- and trans-centered sensibility. Given the mixed response to these productions, Murphyâs results both court and create controversy. As the essays in this panel suggest, queerness can only be understood as a crisscrossing set of concerns, each with their own urgent momentum, a new moment of queer, trans, and anti-racist positions intersecting, diverging, directing. Even if Murphyâs work sometimes fails to realize its own potentialities, queer and otherwise, it does influence what counts as âdiversityâ in representation. And representation is important, since it solidifies cultural norms and values. Opines television scholar Jason Mittell, âRepresentations of identity help define what a culture thinks is normal for a particular group, how behaviors and traits fit into a societyâs shared common sense. Such representations also directly impact how we think about ourselves: when television constructs norms for a group we belong to, we might compare our own behavior to that representation; when it represents a group different from ourselves, television can shape how we view other people.â Given the enormous power that television in its rapidly changing forms, platforms, venues, modalities, and audience saturation continues to wield, Murphyâs work demands analysis for its determination and ability to make the work of representation newly visible as an object of study.
Title: The Weight of Queer Emptiness: âThe Politician and Twenty-First Century Queernessâ
Abstract: Critics have described The Politician as âthe Rosetta stone we need for [Ryan Murphyâs] work.â Indeed, the showâs aesthetic, themes, and sensibility bring together much of what Murphy is known for in television. In particular, the showâs use of queer identities and queerness is emblematic of his commentary on cultural life in the twenty-first century. Since The Politicianâs release in 2019, reviews have been mixed on the effectiveness of the showâs commentary on politics and queerness. One common observation made by critics is that the show represents a certain âemptiness.â As a point of convergence emptiness stands for something that should be there but that is not. Emptiness is, though, never empty; rather than a vacuum, there is in fact meaningful space. What fills out and gives weight to this space, to The Politicianâs queer emptiness is the showâs contrasting uses of LGBTQ identities (where sexual and gender identities define an individual) and post-queer lives (where identities are unremarked and irrelevant to oneâs life) that occur at the intersections of authenticity, politics, and social class.
Casting Queerness: Showrunning Advocacy and Ryan Murphyâs Television Histories
Abstract: In June 2019, Netflix announced that it made a three-year multimillion-dollar deal with Pose (FX, 2018-2021) director, producer, and writer Janet Mock. The first transgender person to land full creative control with a major content company, Mock will continue to write, produce, and direct for Ryan Murphy, but also become a TV showrunner for future Netflix series and feature film projects. As the creator of Nip/Tuck (FX, 2003-2010), Glee (Fox, 2009-2015), American Horror Story (FX, 2011-present), American Crime Story (FX, 2016-present), The Politician (Netflix, 2019), and Hollywood (Netflix, 2020), Murphy has been using âshowrunning as advocacyâ to create LGBTQIA-positive series that are inclusive not only of the queer community, but also women and people of color, hiring 60% women directors and famously casting five transgender women of color to star in Pose. This essay will focus on the showrunning of Murphy on series such as Pose, American Crime Story, and Hollywood as a means of examining how the embodiment, presence, and visibility of queer people and queer people of color in media representation and media production can be seen as advocacy. Using media industry and production studies approaches, I will be analyzing the ways in which casting queer people and queer people of color enables new possibilities for understanding the intersections between media production, media representation, and the material conditions of labor within the television industry.
Since debuting his first show in 1999, mega-producer Ryan Murphy has made an indelible mark on television. He owes much of his success to his synergistic relationship with one of his best-known collaborators, actress and producer Sarah Paulson. In this paper I argue that Paulson is Murphyâs âfused museâ: someone who both inspires and whose talent makes possible the work of the artist. By examining their ongoing professional relationship, I catalogue how Paulson, as Murphyâs fused muse, both enables and embodies Murphyâs four tactics for disrupting the Hollywood status quo to make the entertainment industries more equitable and inclusive. I identify the four tactics championed by Murphyâa combination of priorities he has expressed publicly and patterns that emerge throughout his workâas follows: (1)reimaging and rewriting history through television series or episodes; (2) reorienting the female star trajectory; (3) striving for a more equitable Hollywood through his Half Initiative; and (4) prioritizing collaboration in the age of the television auteur. I demonstrate that Paulson has played an integral role in realizing each of the aforementioned tactics, and in doing so functions as both source of inspiration and an active participant in realizing Murphyâs creative worldview.
This paper considers the Ryan Murphy first responder procedural drama 9-1-1 (2018 â present) for how its dramatized rescues of fetuses/children allay anxieties over the end of the Anthropocene. Amidst a series of interlocking storylines that drive the procedural format and heighten anxieties about global warming and natural disasters,
9-1-1 returns again and again to scenes of birth both symbolic and actual. Securing such fetal futures at the culmination of most episodes issues a rebuke of the queer time of pregnancy and birth in favor of what feminist philosopher Elizabeth Freeman terms âchromo-normativity,â or those devices that measure time to regulate bodies and behaviors. On 9-1-1, bio-rescues often require the narrative elimination of the natal body. Indeed, bio-mothers are put under erasure across every season of 9-1-1, in such a way as to call the full heroic function of the masculinized white father into action. Despite the ostensible liberalism of its casting, 9-1-1 offers a version of fetal futures achievable only through patriarchal intercession into, and marginalization of, the maternal body. Through the figure of the child in general and the fetus in particular as both innocent victims of inferior maternity and autonomous future citizens needing rescue from the abject maternal, 9-1-1 assures us of a safer world to come, particularly if patriarchal intercession arrives âon time.â Trapped in wombs or captive to the unregulated vagaries of their bio-mothers, the show promises that repro-futurity is not just for white heterosexuals anymore, as governmental infrastructure (the police, the fire department, the hospital) âsavesâ us from the very same death-drive-jouissance articulated in the antinominalist discourses of theories of âqueer time. The show\u27s edge-of-your-seat rescues of fetuses and children ultimately hews closely to ideals of chrono-normative emergency requiring management by the State and its representatives, even if such state representatives have been âupdatedâ to include queers and people of color