Lindsey Boerma
Perspectives Editor
I never thought it would happen, but sometime during the past year, I became the social exile of television viewers everywhere — one of those people who would rather watch the Senate deliberate an energy efficiency bill on C-SPAN than the incomparably classy repartee of “Yo Momma” contestants on MTV.
In light of this outrageous confession, imagine my bewilderment when I tuned into the 60th annual Emmy Awards ceremony a few weekends ago to realize the two worlds I had toiled so relentlessly to segregate — entertainment and politics — had merged into one volatile genre of media, just waiting to lure unsuspecting viewers into false political presumptions.
Late night talk show hosts Steven Colbert and Jon Stewart took the stage, vowing to temporarily dispense with their legendary political satire for the duration of the ceremony. The banter commenced, regardless.
Stewart began the award presentation, while Colbert nonchalantly wielded a bag of prunes. “I think right now, America needs a prune,” Colbert said. “It may not be a young, sexy plum. Granted, it is shriveled and at times hard to swallow, but this dried-up old fruit has the experience we need.”
OK — we get it. The “dried-up old fruit” signified Republican presidential nominee John McCain, while the “young, sexy plum” embodied his Democratic opponent, Barack Obama. The wit was palpable, but for me, the humor fell stagnant.
By no means am I attempting to belittle the use of politics for comedic intent — the United States political system both warrants and allocates it. Yet, in the midst of what is arguably the most crucial election year in American history, this manifestation of frivolous politics is grounds for legitimate trepidation.
Particularly disconcerting is the generation in which such a ludicrous encapsulation of our nation’s politics is emergent.
In the prime of the Ford administration 33 years ago, comedian Chevy Chase graced the set of Saturday Night Live to melodramatically enact President Gerald Ford’s notorious series of public stumbles. While it was unprecedented and slightly provocative for the era, it was delivered to an audience generally adept to current events and political happenings, and thus did not have a profoundly altering effect on the general opinion of the president and his execution of the office.
Perversely, members of today’s voting base — archetypal of the “instant gratification” age — establish their political identities in terms of the most convenient assets available. And, in the midst of the escalating trend toward multi-media resources, that includes SNL-type satirical content that proliferates throughout television and the Web.
Admittedly, my deprecating critique of political comedy is jarred with an underlying hypocrisy. I was front row and center for the recent on-screen debut of Tina Fey’s impersonation of GOP vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin. When Mike Huckabee appeared on SNL to ridicule his own inexplicable stamina in the race back in February, I observed with reprehensible amusement.
The allure of these political parodies is obvious — they visually articulate the comical shortcomings of public figures that Americans notice, but cannot abridge. They demonstrate our own capacity to laugh at ourselves and can prove therapeutic amid taxing campaign periods.
The problem, then, with integrating politics into mainstream entertainment lies not in the concrete implementation of such comedy, but in the possible misconception of lighthearted election interpretations among voters.
Political satires succeed through the extent to which they exaggerate already-existing superficial stereotypes. So, while the perceived frivolity of the 2008 election season reels into full force, viewers must be conscious of the travesty involved, so as to avoid being caught in a tangle of misguided political pretenses. Likewise, the entertainment industry should consider the malleability of its demographic in order to ensure the maintenance of an educated voting base.
09-25-2008
