Jersey Shore

There's no doubt MTV/Viacom's Jersey Shore has reshaped modern, mainstream visual anthropology. It's a feat, but not really something to be proud of... What [perhaps] began as an ethnographic documentary into the lives of [certain types of] Italian-Americans vacationing [really?] in a quaint [not anymore] Jersey Shore summer town, is now a work of fiction. Although still shot in a manner that hints at a "let's peer into the lives of an American subculture"-type documentary, over the course of the show's 4 seasons [really, a fifth season is planned too?] the show has become more entertainment than the poor excuse for a documentary, as the show's style was presented in the first season. Just as Survivor changed the fate of reality TV forever, so has Jersey Shore for this reality/ ethnographic hybrid, a genre more showing up more often in our mainstream prime time lineup.

I'm trying really hard not to venture into the realm of moral dilemmas, but with this show it's hard not to. Instead, I'll focus on how the show has affected viewers, as other ethnographic films have. First off -- and this is an easy one -- the stereotype of Italian-Americans has changed not only in America, but worldwide. Young people are seeing this and, in time, don't stand a chance but to succumb to the brainwashing, ultimately thinking that at least some of these horrible stereotypes are true.

Unlike some other ethnographic films where anthropologists will view a 30-90 minute video, and discuss their interpretations, Jersey Shore offers a false glimpse into the lives of these literally fake people. What's worse, their target audience is roughly 16-24 year-olds. Further, it's not some bad movie you watch once or twice. There are currently 47 episodes over the course of the past three years. And more are coming. And according to Wikipedia, there are more than nine different spin-offs currently on air around the world, each focusing on a certain race, and each trying their hardest to cash in on this booming entertainment niche.

This really is the power of ethnographic film. But is it an ethnographic film? Parts of Flaherty's Nanook were staged. So was Rouch's Jaguar to a high degree. Does that take away from the merit of the work? I would argue that Jersey Shore is more slander than educational/accurate anthropologically, but does that nix it from the category of "ethnographic film?" Could the scene of Nanook chewing on the record count as "slander toward Inuits?" One could argue that it doesn't count as long as Nanook was in on it, as he was. But then again, so are the Jersey Shore cast. Where are these lines drawn, and how do we avoid moral dilemmas and circular dialogue?

Photo Project

Ruby

It's interesting how improvement in technology and a gradual change of common practice can impact the subject of ethnographic film. Ruby mentions the "tradition of the victim," and what sync-sound has done to change the traditional views of the subject. When looking back to Nanook, a film that entirely spoke for the subject, more and more ethnographic studies are now focusing on speaking with or alongside the subject to achieve more "accurate" and "professional" findings.

I am most interested in this small, narrow window of time between the advent of sync-cound (when subjects can speak in real-time, for themselves) and when the practice of using "talking heads" was almost standardized. Ruby talks of "expert witnesses" and "voice of God narration" in filming documentaries today (54). This practice is almost mainstream, from ethnographic film, to scientific studies, and the news. The news especially comes to mind, as most stories toggle between, say, the calm-and-collected fire chief explaining what is happening to a burnt-down apartment building, and the frazzled neighbor making little sense/ trying to take advantage of such an event for what they see as their 15 minutes of fame. This phenomenon occurs today, as it did decades ago. For this reason, people love the professionals when they talk. They make sense, appear calm and professional, and can largely go unchallenged. But allowing an "expert" to narrate can be very dangerous, as Ruby explains. Dialogue ends. The subject can feel more like an object than a human. This new practice suddenly becomes identical to the booming, unidentified narrator of Nanook.

I'd like to see Eyes on the Prize one day for the reasons Ruby notes. A successful documentary in which only participants are interviewed, without any "expert opinion" is worth seeing. I can't remember any documentaries like this, really (which kind of proves my point?) People love the intimacy of other people telling their stories first hand, but also seem to require a third-party "expert" for validation. Striking a balance is very tricky.

Mulvey

Mulvey’s thoughts on the “scopophilic instinct” are interesting to analyze, but really overanalyzed in my opinion. I agree, especially in Western culture, that women most often play the passive role of “object” and men most often play the active role as “gaze,” but I find this more an observation than dogmatic theory. When certain male stars go on stage or appear on screen, how many female fans swoon over them? In the 1999 film Titanic, Kate Winslet’s character could of course been seen as on object in this context, especially in 1912, but when the sexes are reversed, doesn’t Leonardo DiCaprio play the same role as object to women? When Justin Beiber gets on stage and millions of twelve year old girls scream their heads off, it’s not because he “cannot bear the burden of sexual objectification.”

I disagree with Mulvey when she says that men narrate the story, can only narrate the story, and women are the objects that tie the story together. Maybe this was true in 1975, but we’ve come a long way in 36 years, and wonder what Mulvey would amend or delete if her essay were to be rewritten today.

Loizos III

I just finished my midterm paper on how technology has affected visual anthropology in the past century, so [especially] found Loizo’s reflections on Rouch to be very interesting. He not only was one of the pioneers of sync-sound, but was a skilled, unique filmmaker and cinematographer himself. I’m interested to see firsthand what Loizos is talking about when he says Rouch’s camera movements are “restless” and give the feeling of “motion sickness.” The latter criticism aside, this fluid, spirit-like motion that is being described seems like such a wonderful way to record such significant events in a culture. I also thought it was interesting that Rouch sought to negate the “problems” of the objective camera, to the camera as a provoking, explorative tool.

I found the discussions of the films rather difficult to understand without being familiar with them, but did find the term “cinema-truth” introduced in Chronique d’un ete to be an interesting word. I get frustrated in class, as it seems every time someone has an opinion, the next speaker always points out the flaws in terms of bias, that the statement contains. It’s hard to do given 1: every movie contains bias; and 2: we’re only watching movies. This term is a good safety net, or at least something new for me to think about.

Jacknis

It was interesting to see what Mead & Bateson planned to accomplish during their two year study in Bali. Like all recorded documents, it seems that, although carefully thought out, the two were unable to completely remove bias in their studies. In the conclusion, Meade and Bateson refer to “disciplined subjectivity,” and Meade goes on to talk about how “there is no such thing as an unbiased report … it is comparable to a color-blind man reporting on a sunset.” As two professionals in their field, the two went through great lengths to document honestly (not necessarily in an unbiased manner). They carefully noted photographs, whether they were posed, whether the observer was aware of the photographer’s presence, whether the event was a reenactment… I thought technology had a big role in this methodology, and the study would yield much different results if conducted today, rather than with World War I era technology. The essay mentioned certain events taking place during the day when traditionally they occurred at night, and how “three rolls of film” were used during one event. With complex night-vision cameras, modern unobtrusive lighting, image stability, and the ability to capture thousands of more images with each “roll” of film would definitely alter both their actions and the project’s results. Three films, as implied by the passage, was a lot for one event, and the crew had to call for more film. But what if the photographers could instead snap continuously, capturing the “in-between” scenes, and gathering background data that they otherwise could not afford to record?

Clifford

I found Clifford’s essay very interesting, as it can be related to each reader’s life, and thus interpreted differently thousands of times. American culture is undoubtedly very possession-oriented. We measure people often in terms of value/wealth, by the size of their house, the car they choose to/can afford to drive… but I find Clifford’s essay interesting because it cuts down to the pathos: why do we find a need to collect these objects? And especially from nature. Clifford mentions the child and family keeping relics from family vacations. The fact that they were removed from nature sparks a significant debate over the true need to collect such an object; to admire it in its natural state and the remove it from that natural state. The similar happened all the time, not more than 100 years ago, when wealthy millionaires would travel the world, gathering, collecting and buying up whatever “proof” they could obtain from the lands they travelled to. It gave them credibility, and most importantly, validation.

As I mentioned before how we can all relate it to our lives, it left me thinking, How many artifacts have I collected selfishly? ...just to look at once or twice a year, and throw back in my drawer. Did I collect something just to show to or prove to a friend? Would I feel better today if I had left this artifact in its natural state, and instead, had taken a picture of it, or had drawn it, or simply felt content with the positive image it left in my memory? This way others could have enjoyed it after me… to experience its/their culture or natural state. And where did this need to collect come from?

Griffith

Although it’s admittedly not the most central idea in his essay, I have never compared the entertainment aspect of museums to those of the freak shows, such as those found at Coney Island. I have always thought, ‘this is in a museum; it must be purely educational.’ But when viewed through a different lens, the dinosaur at the Museum of Natural History becomes “Come see the largest/biggest/strangest _____ on Earth.” Museums do compete as a form of entertainment, and I somehow never connected these lines. As I’m interested in architecture, I think it would be an interesting social experiment to switch the facades of the American Museum of Natural History and one of the great “freak halls” of Coney Island, a phenomenon loosely explained by Robert Venturi. As one building creates undertones of civil equality and solid truths, the other conveys tones of a temporary, makeshift exhibit. It’s cheap construction hinting, “see it while you can!” I wonder if people would see the exhibits within differently, as they make assumptions and cast doubts before even stepping into the buildings.