Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts

Monday, August 13, 2018

Six Things We Weren’t Supposed to Know about Early TV Viewers

By Deborah L. Jaramillo, author of The Television Code: Regulating the Screen to Safeguard the Industry. 


Revisiting early debates about TV content and censorship from industry and government perspectives, Deborah L. Jaramillo's book recounts the development of the Television Code, the TV counterpart to the Hays Motion Picture Production Code.

Tucked away in the National Archives at College Park are the papers of the Federal Communications Commission. Resting there peacefully are letters—stacks and stacks of
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letters—from radio listeners and TV viewers. The Television Code: Regulating the Screen to Safeguard the Industry showcases some of these letters to illustrate viewers’ stake in the development of television. Not all of the letters could make it into the book, though, so this is the perfect space to highlight some of the stranger complaints, demands, and suggestions directed at the FCC and other government bodies. Take, for example, the viewers who wrote to President Truman to resurrect Liberace’s TV show—a funny tactic that might have more success these days. There was also the man who wanted a clock to appear on screen at all times—a practical suggestion, if silly in its earnestness. Then there was the guy who wanted TV shows “to quit destroying the harmless myth of Santa Claus.” Guess who he blamed! Jewish comedians. In no time at all, a seemingly benign letter can reveal some ugly realities, which makes reading these letters quite an eye-opening experience. Intended not for our eyes but for the eyes of the FCC in the late 1940s and early 1950s, the letters described below had one common thread. They were all upset with this new technology called TV.

1
I’m Bored 



In 1951 a man from Pennsylvania demanded the FCC take action to improve the offerings on his local NBC affiliate. He wrote that the “same pictures and stories” had “really become very boresome indeed.” There were a number of reasons to be bored with TV in 1951. Because the FCC stalled TV’s growth in 1948 to sort out some engineering problems, most of the country had either one channel or no service at all. A concerted effort by the Hollywood studios to block the flow of top films to TV also meant that stations reran the same old movies, rankling viewers who expected something better. Angry that they had laid down their hard-earned dollars for a new TV set only to find limited service, viewers wrote to the FCC demanding that they fix things. Although our letter writer was correct to seek out the FCC to resolve the inadequate state of TV service, the Commission could have no hand in fixing his other complaint: “rotten and lousy wrestling matches.” 


2
Culinary Fraud 


Just as we all did at one time, radio listeners had to learn to become television viewers. Anyone who has watched a cooking show understands that the “magic of television” means prepared food appears minutes after the cooking process begins. While not a primary concern for viewers, at least one woman bristled at this televisual sleight of hand. A regular viewer of Josephine McCarthy’s cooking show wrote to the FCC and accused the host of “practicing fraud.” Distressed by the deception that unfolded before her eyes every morning on her NBC station—and seeking protection from it—this viewer faulted McCarthy for passing off “as her own creations food that she never cooked at all during the program.” Media literacy is a real thing, folks.

3
Justice for Dentists


Most people want to be represented on TV in fair, accurate, and nuanced ways. A few letters in the archive protested hateful representations of minorities, and, yes, some protested positive representations of minorities. As some viewers grappled with the state of race relations and the role TV would play in bringing different cultures into living rooms, one in particular was preoccupied with the representation of an estimable but embattled calling: the field of dentistry. Concerned about the “unpleasant dental scenes” in The Paul Winchell Show and The Alan Young Show, one dentist implored the FCC to limit the sort of portrayal that soured viewers on trips to their local dental professional. After all, according to the letter writer, visits to the dentist had truly become “a pleasant experience.”

4
Women! Am I Right?



The bulk of letters complaining about TV dwelled on indecency and violence. Cries of indecency, for the most part, were thinly veiled outbursts of sexism. The targeting of female performers and personalities transcended nitpicking about low necklines or suggestive dance routines. From their behavior to the mere fact of their presence, women constantly offended viewers. Lucille Ball’s pregnancy, worked into the comedy of I Love Lucy, so incensed one family that they “pulled the main switch and lit the house with candles until the program was over.” The sight of female wrestlers on TV was also, for one viewer, “the very level of degradation.” Another called one such show “a disgusting and degrading exhibition,” as well as a “revolting spectacle” worthy of investigation by the FCC. Neither a pregnant comedian nor a professional wrestler, Meet the Press moderator Martha Rountree still managed to unsettle one man. Ignorant of the fact that Rountree created MTP, this viewer felt she “cluttered up” the show. His advice: “Put a full size man into this man’s job and you’ll have a real set up.” Coincidentally, Meet the Press has not had a permanent female moderator since Rountree.

5
Welcome to the Schedule 


The insertion of television into daily life meant that viewers like our cooking-show friend had to learn not just how programs were constructed but how stations and networks shaped their lineups. The schedule has always been a site of strategic planning, involving lead-ins, tentpoles, and counterprogramming. Early viewers lucky enough to have more than one station in their hometowns got a taste of this competitive scheduling, but the abundance of programming presented new problems. Without the benefit of video recorders, what would they do if they wanted to watch two shows airing at the same time? One viewer appealed to the FCC. “What ails television,” this viewer wrote, “[is] not enough good shows and when [the] hour arrives for good shows, stations compete in same hours. Television viewers [are] cheated.” Fortunately, the television networks quickly learned the value of the rerun.

6
Ahead of Their Time 


The beauty of over-the-air broadcasting is its wide reach. Radio and television’s ability to access and appeal to a mass audience has located these media at the center of social, cultural, and political life. And regulatory decisions made in the 1920s located advertisers at the center of broadcasting. Whereas radio made limited room for viable noncommercial stations, entrenched interests—both industrial and regulatory—ensured that “television” would be synonymous with “commerce.” A mass audience meant big money, but it also meant a varied programming slate. Narrowcast channels, or entire channels targeting specific audiences with defined tastes (think Food Network or ESPN), would not emerge on a large scale until cable television’s channel capacity and revenue streams allowed for such experimentation. Early television viewers already had narrowcasting on their minds, however. In 1950 one exasperated viewer asked the FCC to “let the ballgames have their own station.” A savvy nine-year-old viewer ran with this idea and prescribed an entire system of niche channels in 1951. “I think each channel should have the same thing,” he wrote. His channel lineup? Channel 2: Westerns. Channel 3: Cartoons. Channel 4: Cooks. Channel 5: Educational Programs. Channel 6: Clothes. Channel 7: Languages. Channel 8: Plays. Channel 9: Wrestling. Channel 10: Sports. Channel 11: Planets. But for the final part of his master plan—a less “noisy” type of sponsor—this kid might have had a future in the TV business.

All letters can be found in the National Archives and Records Administration at College Park, MD.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

The Velvet Light Trap Call for Papers



Call for Papers
The Velvet Light Trap Issue #84: "The 1990s: A Decade of Change"

The internet. Blockbuster Video. Broadcast deregulation. New Queer Cinema. The rise of 
fandom and video game studies. In numerous ways, the 1990s served as an important decade of change for the media and media studies landscape. In industrial terms, the Telecom Act of 1996 helped to drastically change US television ownership rules, while the GATT negotiations of the early 90s helped shape international approaches to film. Technologically, the decade saw the explosive rise of the internet and digital technologies such as CGI, as well as the popularity of a variety of Japanese electronics (the Nintendo Game Boy, the Sony PlayStation and Discman) around the world. In terms of production, the film industry experienced the growth of both smaller-scale movements (Miramax and the mainstreaming of “independent” cinema, New Queer Cinema and the increased visibility of other non-hegemonic groups in film) and larger ones (the blockbuster successes of films such as Titanic and the “Disney renaissance” in animation), while the continued growth and fragmentation of cable channels provided a wider range of potential show types, perspectives, and markets.

These changes continue to shape media production and industries today. While many discuss the nostalgia boom for 1980s popular media and popular culture that continues to manifest itself in works such as Stranger Things and It, the 1990s have likewise been undergoing their own boom. From reboots of 1990s TV staples such as Roseanne and Clarissa Explains It All to TV adaptations of 90s films such as Fargo, and from popular film reboots and reimaginings (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, Power Rangers) to the continued popularity of key 90s video game franchises (Pokemon, Tomb Raider), the last decade of the twentieth century continues to exert a strong, growing influence on the contemporary landscape.

As we witness these new perspectives on the 1990s, a decade defined in large part by the array of new perspectives it provided for media authors, audiences, and industries, how can we better understand the impact of this decade on today's media and cultural landscape? Are there key moments or issues from the 1990s that have had an especially prominent legacy? Are there underaddressed areas of research that can shed more light on both the 1990s and their role today? For our upcoming issue, we are looking for scholarship that considers a variety of issues relating to the 1990s as a decade of change. Although an entire decade provides for a broad topic range, potential topics could include (but are by no means limited to):

  • The history and legacy of media (de)regulation in the 90s (the Telecom Act of 1996, the end of fin-syn, GATT/NAFTA trade agreements, etc.)
  • The rise and legacy of 1990s superhero media
  • The rise and legacy of queer media in the 90s
  • Changing audiences and audience theorizations in the 90s
  • Digital communications in the 90s and the altering of audience dynamics
  • Trends in 90s children’s toys and merchandising (Tamagotchi, Furby, Beanie Babies, etc.)
  • Domestic and international changes in film exhibition in the 90s
  • The rise and popularity of soundtrack albums in the 90s
  • Adult animation in the 90s (The Simpsons, South Park, Beavis and Butthead, etc.)
  • The role of the 24 hour news cycle in the 90s
  • The importance of film festivals in the 90s (Sundance, the circulation of international art cinema, etc.)
  • Key pop music developments in the 90s (grunge, Britpop, gangsta rap, boy/girl groups, etc.)
  • Major 90s international art cinema movements (Iranian, Taiwanese, Dogme 95, etc.)
  • The international prominence of star athletes and related media in the 90s (Olympic athletes, commercials, Michael Jordan, Space Jam, etc.)

Submission Guidelines:

Submissions should be between 6,000– 7,500 words (approximately 20-25 pages double-spaced), formatted in Chicago style. Please submit an electronic copy of the paper, along with a one-page abstract (no more than 100 words), both saved as Microsoft Word files. While images are not required for submissions, if your submission includes images, please ensure that they are high resolution and included as an image file separate from your Word files. Remove any identifying information so that the submission is suitable for anonymous review. The journal’s Editorial Board will referee all submissions. Send electronic manuscripts and/or any questions to thevelvetlighttrap@gmail.com. All submissions are due July 31, 2018.


About the Journal:

The Velvet Light Trap is a scholarly, peer-reviewed journal of film, television, and new media studies. Graduate students at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Texas-Austin coordinate issues in alternation. Our Editorial Advisory Board includes such notable scholars as Hector Amaya, Ben Aslinger, Miranda Banks, Caetlin Benson-Allott, Mark Betz, Michael Curtin, Kay Dickinson, Lisa Dombrowski, Daniel Herbert, Lucas Hilderbrand, Debra Jaramillo, Roberta Pearson, Debra Ramsay, Avi Santo, Jacob Smith, Jonathan Sterne. VLT's graduate student editors are assisted by their local faculty advisors: Mary Beltrán, Ben Brewster, Jonathan Gray, Lea Jacobs, Derek Johnson, Jeremy Morris, Shanti Kumar, Charles Ramírez Berg, Thomas Schatz, and Janet Staiger.



Tuesday, September 30, 2014

From Marianao to Mayberry

The first episode of The Andy Griffith Show aired fifty-four years ago this Friday. We asked noted writer and scholar Gustavo Pérez Firmat (one of Newsweek's “100 Americans to watch for in the 21st century”) to reflect on what the show meant to him as a Cuban exile and immigrant to the United States. His new book, A Cuban in Mayberry: Looking Back at America's Hometown, wrestles with the "irreplaceable intimacy between person and place" and explores how his addiction to reruns of The Andy Griffith Show provided an illusion of belonging to a community in which he never would have felt accepted.

We hope you enjoy this fascinating and touching tribute to a classic American cultural product from a very unique perspective.



From Marianao to Mayberry
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By Gustavo Pérez Firmat

The Andy Griffith Show (TAGS to aficionados) premiered on CBS on Monday October 3, 1960. Exactly three weeks later, on Monday October 24, I left Cuba with my parents, my two brothers and my sister on an overnight ferry to Key West called, of all things, The City of Havana. I was eleven years old. My parents were in their late thirties. That evening, as the City of Havana was crossing the Florida straits, CBS broadcast the fourth episode of TAGS, which has to do with the arrival in Mayberry of Ellie Walker, the first of Andy’s several girlfriends. As Ellie was beginning a new life in Mayberry, the Pérez family was beginning a new life in America. Ours would take me from Marianao, the Havana neighborhood where I was born, to Miami, where I grew up, to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, where I’ve lived most of my adult life, and from there to Mayberry, the fictional town where The Andy Griffith Show takes place.

A Cuban in Mayberry tells the story of how I became an undocumented Mayberrian, the town’s resident alien, the lone Cuban coot in a flock of Southern geezers. If our work should be the praise of what we love, as John Ruskin believed, this is the story of my late-blooming love affair with an imaginary town and its citizens—call it a Mayberry-December romance.