Inspired by Megan, I too returned to my response to the “genre” question on the first week survey, and found that I had buried the genre I probably engage with most, scifi/fantasy, at the end of a sentence. After listing “detective shows and some sitcoms that I watch with my parents, [and] soapy dramas with my mom,” I casually dropped that I tend to watch scifi/fantasy “on my own.” What is it about this genre that leads me to downplay my interest in it, while at the same time being unabashed about the fact that my mom and I watch shows like A Place to Call Home and Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, which revel in their genres, their camp and melodrama?2
This brings me to Mittell’s chapter, which leads me to consider that the discourses around these genres that I have identified my own engagement with influence the ways that I discuss my interest in them. Am I more comfortable admitting to watching sitcoms when I qualify that I watch them in my home with my family? Perhaps I am able to cop to watching soapy melodramas with my mom because, as a bonding ritual between two women, this is an acceptable “guilty pleasure.” On the other hand, scifi is still popularly configured as a male space, the provision of the geeky/nerdy fanboy. From here, Mittell’s formulation of genre as a “textual component” rather than a “textual category” (7) feels like a useful way to shift popular discourse around genre.
It also enables a consideration of many current shows that play with genre in ways that both depend on generic shorthands for narrative or thematic purposes and also combine genres in ways that question and even undermine genres in themselves. (I’m thinking, for example, of the one episode of Westworld that I’ve seen—I know, it’s on my list and I’ll get to it!—and its combination of the Western and science fiction, which, along with much else, reminds us of the similarities between the two genres in ways that undermine common techno-utopian celebrations of science fiction as “individualistic, progressive, technically and aesthetically innovative, scientifically secular, potent, humanist, democratic—even egalitarian: . . . the quintessential American Dream” (Johnson-Smith 2).)
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1. A move which in itself harkens all the way back to Augustine, Aquinas, and other early Biblical scholars who essentially developed the “multiple levels of meaning”/sign-based hermeneutic strategies that has dominated literary theory ever since, and thus influenced film, television, and other media studies as well.
2. Perhaps another question to ask—why are Australian shows so good?
Johnson-Smith, Jan. American Science Fiction TV: Star Trek, Stargate and Beyond. I. B. Taurus, 2004.
This also reminds me of the idea that the television-spectator is a post-oedipal, "distracted viewer." Narrative complexity means that viewers have to pay closer attention to figure out the show's puzzle, and I'm sure this adds to their categorization as quality T.V. However, low-cult shows like "Dynasty," and also some wilder T.V. like "The Eric Andre Show," subvert the possibility of putting the puzzle together, which also undermines the notion that complexity = quality. Shows like "LOST" and "The Wire" still offer closure and rewards for those who take the time to figure them out, so they may be straddling a line between the open-ended/serial and closed/episodic structures.
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