On "Frasier", Accents, and Class Distinctions

In a discussion about class, regional accents, and the way they are presented on television (especially American television)  the most pertinent example, for me anyway, would be Frasier Crane of Cheers and later his eponymous sitcom Frasier.

Frasier Crane is initially introduced in Cheers as a love interest to Diane. He is a haughty, uptight, somewhat pretentious psychiatrist intended as a foil to Sam's 'jus-plain-folks' working-class persona. He was pompous, overbearing, and full of himself, and was not the most popular character on Cheers. As Kelsey Grammar has frequently mentioned, he was often approached during his run on Cheers by fans of the show who would ask "are you that pin dick that plays Frasier on Cheers"? Frasier's Mid-Atlantic accent is supposed to indicate that he is a man of 'good breeding', so to speak, making him removed from his friends at the bar, who are all regular working stiffs from families of working stiffs.

While the Frasier character began life as a typical unflattering upper-middle class stereotype (over-educated, boring, coded feminine, and a distinct clipped and affected upper-middle class neutral American accent) the transition from Cheers to Frasier allowed the audience to see a different side to Frasier following his divorce from his equally chilly and uptight wife Lilith. Namely, the introduction of Frasier's father Martin, a retired cop. While Frasier claimed to be the orphan son of a scientist father in Cheers, it is revealed that he in fact has distinctly working-class origins, as Martin has nothing of Frasier's mannerisms, nor anything close to his accent. (As an interesting note, John Mahoney, who plays Martin Crane, is a British expat who was raised in Blackpool by a family of Mancunians.).

As an audience, we come to learn that Frasier has adopted his upper-middle class persona and his pompous attitude as a defense mechanism against the bullying he endured as a child and as a sort of rebellion against his cop father. He chose to remove himself from his father as much as possible, in order to escape his roots and be better accepted in the world of academia and psychiatry. However,  the living situation that is thrust upon him (taking his father in after an injury reduces Martin's mobility) forces him to accept the reality of his origins. The humour of the show often derives from the conflict that arises between Frasier and Niles and their attempts to be taken more seriously in their fields, alongside their father's lack of pretension and his propensity to foil their social-climbing schemes.

Then we throw Daphne Moon in the mix, who is identifiably working-class as she has a thick pseudo- Manchester accent and often speaks of her formative years in England in a less-than-pretentious way. Daphne and Martin bond over their working-class backgrounds, while Frasier often scoffs at Daphne's tales of childhood or claims of psychic abilities. Niles' infatuation and eventual relationship with Daphne could perhaps be attributed to a desire to re-claim his working-class identity or a way of reconciling what he may view as abandonment of his father and his father's way of life.

Regardless of motivations, the Niles/Daphne relationship represents a destruction of class boundaries, as Daphne is not only identifiably working-class in her accents and mannerisms, but also her profession, because as Martin's physical therapist she could generally be regarded as "the help". For Niles to fall in love with a woman like Daphne requires an acknowledgement of these class boundaries and also an outright rejection of the class distinctions that he has spent his adult life mimicking and affecting. The same can be said for Daphne, as her "Manchester" accent is slightly mangled and Jane Leeves has said that this was intentional on her part to indicate that Daphne has spent quite some time in the States and has probably intentionally taken on a bit of an American twang in order to fit in with her peers in the USA.

It's not to say that Frasier is a perfect representation of class distinctions or that it breaks down any boundaries, as a 30-minute American sitcom. Certainly, any Brit or anyone with British ties couldn't help but laugh at the fact all of Daphne's brothers have wildly differing regional accents. All in all though, I think anyone from a working-class background who has ever struggled with their working-class identity and being accepted in a field that is not friendly to working-class people can relate.

"Hi, I'm Daria. Go to Hell."

Oh, Daria. There's so much to be said about this show that has, inevitably, already been discussed by legions of nerds and/or hipster ladies before me. In accordance with that fact, I hope that my thoughts on the series will offer a fresher perspective than what has already been said.

First of all, a little background, because I know you're just dying to hear the details of my childhood media consuming habits: Daria premiered in 1996, when I was six years old, ostensibly too young for the series. I don't remember exactly when I started watching the show, but it was sometime after the first few seasons had already aired, but not before the series had ended, so sometime in the late nineties. My parents were extremely strict about the television that my sister and I were allowed to watch, and we were banned from watching most mainstream cartoons. The two exceptions were The Simpsons (because it was "intellectual and satirical") and Daria, because it featured a female lead who was intelligent, interesting, and who refused to buy into shallow ideals of beauty and relationships. What can I say, my parents were feminists, and I'm lucky that they were.

As a nerdy brunette with glasses, a dysfunctional family, and a pretty, popular sister, I heavily identified with Daria at the time. I felt I was surrounded by idiots and used my wit and intelligence as a defense mechanism against my peers' attacks on what I was supposedly lacking (beauty and popularity, naturally). To have someone like her to look up to was comforting at the time, but as an adult re-watching the series, I have to question whether Daria is an intentionally flawed heroine or simply a "nerdy" version of the mean bitchy cheerleader trope.

Something that distinguishes Daria from most other teen series with an "outcast"-type protagonist is the fact that the head cheerleader and football captain are not antagonists in the least.

Brittany and Kevin (truly prophetic name choices there, I might add) may be utter dunces, but they're not mean or unpleasant. They are always friendly to Daria and Jane, and Brittany even does her best to do poor unpopular Daria a favour by inviting her to a house party in one of the series' first episodes. Daria and Jane, by contrast, kind of look like total assholes, as they mock Brittany and Kevin constantly, sometimes to their faces, when all the couple try to do is be friendly and sweet.

It's easy to understand why Daria and Jane behave this way, of course, because they're teenagers who have not developed fully evolved critical thinking skills, and as intelligent as they may be, they don't have the maturity to see that they would get along in high school much easier if they just accepted the friendship of the "popular kids", since it is genuinely offered without expectations.

If the pair have any true antagonists at school, it's probably Sandi and the other members of the Fashion Club.

Quinn and Stacy are less antagonistic than Sandi and Tiffani, but since they encourage the other girls' behaviour and enable their bullying, I'm going to say they come close. What's ironic about the Fashion Club though is that they are just as rude and snobby as Daria and Jane, albiet in a very different way. Daria and Jane are unpleasant because they feel disenfranchised and unnoticed in the "girl culture" of the '90s, and the fashion club are unpleasant because they feel intimidated by their more intelligent peers with the looming threat of college on the horizon.

Both groups of kids have their own issues to deal with, and I think the series explores this idea as Quinn grows emotionally throughout the run of the series, choosing to expand her horizons beyond sartorial choices, while Daria eventually gains some confidence and manages to develop enough self-actualization to participate in a real relationship with a human male.

In that sense, I think Daria is like The Breakfast Club in that it explores the hidden depths of every high school stereotype, from Brittany the Bimbo to Daria the Brain, to Sandi the Bitch and Jodie the Token Minority (there's been great stuff written about her, which as a white woman I don't feel qualified to regurgitate). 

So: is Daria an appropriate heroine for nerdy teenage girls? Someone they should emulate? It's hard to say. On the one hand I would answer no because she's deeply insecure and takes that out on other people. On the other hand, I think she experiences significant growth throughout the length of the series, and perhaps she could serve as an example of moving on from one's bitterness and self-hatred. In any case, I think the series itself is something that disenfranchised teenagers will always take comfort in, because it reassures them that there are other kids out there like them, and perhaps it will give them hope that they too can move on from a stifling environment to become fulfilled and feel appreciated, like Daria seemed to be in her last appearance, the TV movie Is It College Yet?. 

On Rita Leeds and Arrested Development

Something that has always been a source of debate among Arrested Development fans is the Rita storyline and the question of whether it not it is disrespectful to mentally disabled people. Speaking strictly as someone who loves the show and has only dabbled in the fandom, I cannot say whether or not anyone from the disabled community has spoken on the storyline and whether or not is offensive. Based only on my observations as a viewer, though, I have always felt that the way the story was written was respectful to Rita specifically as a character. The true humour of the arc came not from mocking Rita's disability, but rather from highlighting what awful people the Bluths are in regards to their treatment of her.

Michael, of course, is horribly selfish from the beginning in his relationship with Rita, as he initially only approaches her in order to get her assistance in helping him view some classified documents. He becomes enchanted with Rita, but only because of her beauty, whimsical nature, and willingness to listen to him pratter on about his ridiculous problems. He knows almost nothing about Rita aside from the fact that she's British and lives with her uncle. If he had even bothered in the slightest to ask her about her life, he would have learned (as she would have offered the information gladly) that she is mega rich and mentally disabled. 

Secondly, the storyline also serves to highlight how truly awful the other Bluths are as well, as they see nothing wrong with marrying Michael off to a woman he knows absolutely nothing about (and who is terribly unsuited to him, his lifestyle, and family) because they want her family money.

I'd say that particular storyline is in a sense, part of the essence of Arrested Development, as it asks us to follow the lives of an extremely unlikeable family,  and tricks us into sympathizing with them until they do something so reprehensible that we are startled out of our comfort zone and forced to acknowledge the reality of the Bluths, and to recognize that they are people who, if we were watching their storyline unfold in real-life on the news, we would be cheering for their destruction and dissolution.

"My Father Has Never Given Me Anything..."

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Something I think about a lot as I re-watch the last season of Mad Men is Sally Draper's relationship with her parents. Up until she caught her father fucking Lindsey Weir in Elizabeth Taylor drag, she idolized him and saw him as the the Good Parent to Betty's Bad Parent. That's not to say that Betty isn't a Bad Parent, but isn't Don pretty terrible as a father too? Ditching his kids so he could move in with his new wife to a chic Manhattan apartment? Leaving them alone for the night without any supervision whatsoever? Sally doesn't see that, though, because she isn't around Don enough to realize what an asshole he truly is. She is around enough to bear the full brunt of Betty's anger and frustrations, though, and to take her abuse head-on. That's the thing, really. They're both horribly abusive parents, but Betty's abuse is just more obvious, especially to a child who grew up in a time when all TV moms were nurturing and kind and happy. It's easier to put Don's abandonment out of her mind, but Sally has to live with Betty's abuse every damn say.

It makes me wonder if children, and society in general, think of abusive mothers as much worse than absentee or neglectful fathers simply because mothers are not 'supposed' to have character flaws like the coldness, anger, and resentment that Betty has.

It's particularly sad, though, when a mother is abusive towards a daughter, because we think that as a woman, she should know how hard it is to constantly feel as if you are not good enough, and that she would not be so heartless to inflict that on a child. We expect heartlessness from men, so when a father abandons his children, it's obviously shitty but not at all surprising because men are generally pretty scummy or can turn scummy at a moment's notice.

My parents share some similarities to the Drapers, and it's difficult for me to reconcile my sympathy for Betty with my deep and abiding empathy for Sally. It's maybe more difficult to have a mother like Betty than it is to have a father like Don, because as a young woman growing up you have no understanding of what a healthy female friendship or companionship dynamic should feel like. We all joke about the 'daddy issues' that arise from paternal abandonment; but if a young woman doesn't know how to make friends that will set her straight and give her guidance in her relationships with men, what does she have?

It's also easier for people to understand or believe paternal abandonment from an outside perspective if they haven't experienced it. Based on personal experience, I have found that my friends and acquaintances don't know how to respond to and often don't even believe admissions of maternal abuse, be it emotional or physical.

Victims of abandonment or abuse should perhaps stop asking ourselves "who fucked me up the most, mom or dad", and rather ask ourselves "how fucked up am I, exactly, and how can I avoid fucking up my kids in the same way?". Easier said than done, of course, especially when paternal abandonment can have consequences that are not as obvious as abuse.

I wish there was an easier answer for all of this, but there isn't. I guess this is why therapists will always be able to find work.

On being a member of the "Video Generation"

I was born in 1990,  which means that I grew up in a time when videotapes were the norm when it came to distributing movies, TV shows or cartoons. My family had a VCR, a stack of Disney tapes,  and because we didn't have cable and my mother didn't like for us to watch the violent cartoons of the day, my sister and I took to watching the same movies (The Little Mermaid, The Great Mouse Detective, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, etc) over and over and over again.

Recently it struck me that Millenials were really the first generation to be able to do that (watch movies over and over and over at home). Before the advent of commercial distribution of videocassettes, a child would get to watch a movie in theatres upon its original release (several times if they were lucky) and wouldn't get to see it again until it was revived in theatres of broadcast on television. But my generation, we had our favourite movies at our fingertips, and we could watch them every day, maybe even twice a day, from the comfort of our own homes. We didn't get the "first movie experience" that the kids who came before us did.

It makes me wonder if this has had any bearing on the way we consume our media, art, and entertainment. I don't mean to say that watching movies from home (and watching them repeatedly) is any better or worse than seeing them in theatres, but I do think that repeated viewings of a particular movie during a child's formative years can have an impressive impact. If nothing else, it becomes a deeply personal memory to the child, because they've experienced the movie in their own home, in a familiar surrounding with the freedom to get up and sing along or act out the movie as they're watching it. A child who has the opportunity to watch The Little Mermaid every day (like I did as a little girl) is likely to develop a very strong attachment to the film. The "message" of the film will be ingrained in her mind just as firmly as the lyrics of "Under the Sea."

Certainly there are varying degrees of interest and attachment for each child, but I have definitely noticed that people my age and around it are all incredibly nostalgic for their favourite childhood movies in a way people of my mother's generation (and even the generation before her) are not. I think that affects the way we consume media today: vociferously consuming media, keeping meticulously up-to-date on our favourite TV shows, and engaging in what I like to call "Submersive Media Therapy" (a fancy term for holing oneself up binge-watching movies and TV via DVDs, Netflix or internet streaming sites).

It's funny that we're so often derided for consuming media in this way when our parents the Boomers (who were the first generation to grow up with television as an ever-present force in their everyday home lives) saw no problem in plunking us down with a copy of our favourite movie and allowing us to press rewind and play it yet another time.

Past, Present, and Future

I feel like there's this need people have, sometimes, to compare their favourite to something classic and great that came before it in order to give it credibility. For instance, I've gotten into this argument on Tumblr: people love to compare their favourite boy-band of the day to the Beatles. I see a lot of people doing this with One Direction recently, and no shade intended towards One Direction fans, but people did that with the Bay City Rollers and the Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC and the Jonas Brothers. None of those bands have gotten a Grammy tribute recently, as far as I am aware. 

That's not to say that I think some comparisons aren't worth making. Personally, I think One Direction is easily comparable to The Monkees, in the sense that they are a genuinely talented group of young men who were created to be famous and achieved initial success through the medium of television. Much like the Monkees they're prefabricated and were intended to elicit screams and adoration from young female fans; whereas with the Beatles it just kind of happened and they went with it. 

Anyway, that's not really the point. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that if you really love something- be it a band, TV show, movie or actor- you should talk about its good points and what makes it special on its own and not compare it to something that came before it because they share some small similarities. 

Plus, I just think it's silly to expect bands and singers and actors of today to have career trajectories anywhere near the way acts of the twentieth century experienced. How can any band follow the Beatles' success and become as big as them if they are constantly looking towards them as the pinnacle of rock 'n' roll? When the Beatles started out, rock was a relatively new genre of music there were no big groups that they had to live up to. There was Elvis, of course, but he was American, a solo act, and his career and image had changed significantly by the time they became famous anyway.

To diverge from the Beatles/One Direction example for a moment, let's talk about Beyonce. I remember when she first left Destiny's Child and started off on her own solo act. She was frequently compared to Diana Ross, because her career path at that point superficially resembled Ross' own. She had just left a very famous R&B/pop trio to embark on a solo career, with a significantly sexed-up image and a dancier sound that what she had previously recorded.

Superficially yes, that's similar to what Diana Ross did, but unlike Diana Ross Beyonce has proven herself to be not only a singer, but a songwriter, producer, and entrepreneur, and I would argue that her music holds more significance to her respective generation than Ross' solo output ever did. To compare Beyonce to Diana Ross does her a disservice because it assumes that all the great pop music success stories have already been written, and that modern acts are simply reprising them for another generation.

Anyway, where was I going with this? I guess I just think it's pointless to try and compare young upstart talents with "legendary" acts. Why compare Amy Winehouse with any other members of the "27 Club"? Why compare Britney to Madonna? (I have always found the Britney/Madonna comparison particularly egregious- though Madonna's obviously an influence on Britney, Britney's identity and image has nuance and vulnerability that Madonna never did). 

All these modern acts may be influenced by the people that came before them, but they will never truly recreate their predecessors, nor should they be expected to: they have their own paths to follow.