My Response to "Go away, I'm watching TV"

Vanessa's post was on the subject of TV being more personal and less communal. Here is my response:

I wholeheartedly agree that, in this modern age, the ability to watch television shows alone has grown by leaps and bounds. You mention DVRs, torrents and online streaming as ways that the audience has been segregated.

But I think we can trace back this segregation even further than that: to the rise of multiple television homes. The rise of multi-television homes occurred, at least in my family, around the early-to-mid 1990s. I had a TV set in my room when I was 14 (that was in 1996), but we had two sets – one in the living room; one in the basement – as early as 1991. This allowed for my mom to watch what she wanted and my dad (and usually me, since it was mostly sports) to watch what he wanted. Now, there are three of us living under one roof, and not only do we have our own TVs, we have our own high-def TVs, with all the necessary accoutrement.

I also see a dearth in what I refer to as appointment viewing. I just recently wrote about Lost, which I view as the last of the shows that needed to be watched when it aired. But aside from live sporting events, there really is not one show I see on the TV schedule that can be considered “must-see.” I have spent the better part of a year looking for another show that my friends and I can experience together, but to no avail. I love the communal aspect that a great television show can provide, but sadly none seem to exist in the current TV climate.

Having said that, The Office is the only show that I watch with any regularity that I do not watch when it airs. However, the only reason for that is because I am usually on a Go bus coming home when it is broadcast.

Perhaps I am the last of a dying breed, but I still do carve out the necessary time to watch my favorite shows when they air – South Park is the only exception because it airs later in Canada than it does in the United States. If it aired at the same time, I would not watch it online – and I still hold out hope that another Lost will come around so I can once again share an experience with some of my friends.

Confessions of a Cult Member

The article we all read for class this week featured a section on cult TV shows under the title "A Mystery Religion." I would like to quote a passage from page 205:

"Shows that inspire passion, that fuel hours of online chatter, that attract a dedicated cult following are quite rare. But when viewers find their show, they tape it, anticipate it, and refer back to it. Conventions, costumes, and communal celebrations follow."

The authors give examples of shows to emphasize their point. They use Star Trek, The X-Files and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, to name three, that have this cult following.

I have never watched any of these shows. Well, that is not entirely true. I have seen episodes of all three, but I never cared for them. (Sorry, Professor, but I hate Sarah Michelle Gellar and I cannot force myself to watch her "act.")

The article was written in 2003, so the show that finally turned me into a cult member had yet to be produced. I am sure everyone knows which show I am talking about...

Yes, folks, I am a Lostie. For six seasons I followed the adventures of Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Locke, Hugo and all the other survivors of Oceanic flight 815. From the day I first saw them crash on that damn island I was hooked.

I am going to stop myself because some of my comments might spoil aspects of the show for those that have yet to watch it. So if you have not seen it and still plan to, quit reading. I do not want any angry comments about how I ruined Lost for anyone. So if you do not want to know what happened on The Island, then stop reading right now.

What started as, seemingly, a modern version of The Lord of the Flies turned into a hatch-opening, Others-fighting, time-traveling, Smoke-Monster-battling, Sci-Fi epic.

Watching Lost became a communal experience. Not only did I and three of my friends gather every week to watch it, we would talk about what we just saw after the show ended. I would also go to work and talk endlessly to a few of my co-workers about what had happened on that week's episode. It got to the point where I think people stopped hanging around us because all we talked about was Lost. To this day, nearly one year after the show ended, we still debate the intricacies of just what the heck happened. I bought the Blu-ray boxset when it was released in the summer, and I have done a complete rewatch of the series... twice.

In this age of DVRs and online streaming, Lost was appointment viewing. Fans worked their schedule around when Lost was on. With the way television programs are now being consumed, it is possible that Lost will be the last show to seen as "must-see" television.

Christ Figures: What Does It Add?

One of the pertinent questions that was raised this past week about Christ figures in film was: what does it add?

It seems as if every character in every movie can be seen in some way as a Christ figure. Just go back and read Kozlovic's article. He seemingly name drops every major character from every major film. For Christ's sake (pun intended) he names John Connor from Terminator 2: Judgment Day! I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how John Connor is in any way a Christ figure.

The Four Faces of Christ?

There are some legitimate Christ figures in film. Characters like Neo from The Matrix and at least three characters – Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker – from Star Wars and its various sequels that could be considered Christ figures depending on how one views them. That said, not every main or heroic character in every movie needs to fit into the Christ-figure category. While Kozlovic goes to extreme lengths (25 different categories, really?) to try and shoehorn in almost every character from modern cinema, the designation just does not fit certain people.

Which brings me back to the point: what does it add? Does categorizing John Connor as a Christ figure add anything to the Terminator franchise? Personally, I fail to see one way in which it helps the narrative of the story to see him as one. Also, I highly doubt it helped the box office of the films either (in this case I am referring to the three sequels: Terminator 2: Judgment Day, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines and Terminator: Salvation because John Connor, despite what Kozlovic writes WAS NOT in The Terminator except as a fetus in Sarah Connor's uterus at the end of the film) because the movies already had built-in audiences. Adding the Christ-figure designation might help some movies at the box office, but the sequels to The Terminator did not need such help.

So where is the advantage of calling John Connor a Christ figure? In my humble opinion, there is none. While Christ figures do exist in film, they do not exist in every film.

My Response to "I believe in God, America and the Packers"

If you have yet to read Katleen's post about football being the American religion, I suggest you do.

Great post, Kathleen.

It is not just Americans who are caught up in football fever. I too spend every Sunday after Labour Day to the first Sunday in February watching the National Football League. It is a ritual for my father, brother and I to don our “Sunday best” – my Dad in his customary Peyton Manning, #18 Indianapolis Colts jersey; my brother in one of his many jerseys, usually his #82 Jacksonville Jaguars Jimmy Smith jersey; me in my Detroit Lions Calvin Johnson #81 jersey – and watch football all Sunday. Funny thing is, my Dad is a Bills fan and I have cheered for the 49ers for over 20 years, yet neither of us wear a jersey of a player from our favourite team. What fantasy football can do to a person. But I digress

Without a doubt football on Sunday has become somewhat of a religious endevour for me and my family. We even have cousins and aunts and uncles come over to enjoy the festivities with us from week to week. We are all doing our best to indoctrinate the newest member of our family – my five-month-old nephew – into the cult of the NFL. In short, we all do worship at the Temple of the NFL. It is customary for us to shun all other responsibilities from 11:00AM Sunday morning to almost midnight. Perhaps calling it our family's religion would not be that far off. None of us identify with any other religion, but we all identify ourselves as football fans.

Having said that, and knowing that the NFL is the most profitable professional sports league in the world, I do not know if using the Super Bowl-viewing numbers is an accurate way to gage whether football is the American religion. Notice in my previous paragraphs how I did not mention my mother. That is because she hates football. Yet, without fail, there she is on Super Sunday watching the Packers take on the Steelers. The spectacle of the Super Bowl brings out a lot of viewers that do not normally follow or care about the NFL. That is not to say that the NFL does not have a devout following. They very much do. Perhaps, however, it would be more accurate to look at the weekly television numbers from the regular season to see how large this American religion is.

In any event, fantastic post, and it was nice to see someone other than me talk about sports for once.

Branding and Sports: Loyalty Beyond Reason?

All this talk of brands and marketing got me thinking of the only brand I tend to have any long-lasting affiliation with:

Yes, I love the New York Knicks, San Francisco 49ers, Notre Dame Fighting Irish, Chicago Cubs and Toronto Maple Leafs, but nothing approaches the level of devotion I have for my hometown Tabbies.

Just looking in my closet I have, and this might shock many, six jerseys (Kevin Glenn, Arland Bruce, Jamall Johnson, Stevie Baggs, Dave Stala and Otis Floyd), five t-shirts, four hats, two toques, two hoodies, a pair of winter gloves and a winter jacket. I also own a travel mug and am a season-ticket holder. (I also operate a blog about the Tiger-Cats, which I started almost one year ago.)

Some might say, and in fact many of my non-Tiger-Cat-fan friends have said, that my devotion to the Tiger-Cats is irrational, or to use a phrase from the video we watched in class, that my loyalty is beyond reason.

I disagree. I have a reason, a very well-founded reason: I'm from Hamilton. Being from Hamilton means two things: you only ever drink Tim Horton's coffee and you cheer for the Tiger-Cats. It's in one's blood when they come from Steeltown. We in Hamilton where the Tiger-Cat logo like a badge of honour. You probably see me every week sporting some form of Tiger-Cat merchandise. That's not an accident. It is my way of showing that I am part of the tribe. When you see someone wearing the Black & Gold, you shout "OSKEE WEE WEE!" at them or give them a high five.

Come to think of it, maybe our devotion is somewhat irrational; maybe our loyalty is beyond reason. While we do not cheer for the Cats because of an advertisement, our devotion is just as deeply held (maybe even more so) than those who consider themselves "Mac people" or "Xbox people" or what Leah Burke wrote about, "sneakerheads." Perhaps it does not take an ad to get us to become loyal beyond reason. Perhaps all it takes sometimes is a birth certificate.