_ | \ | \ | | \ __ | |\ \ __ _____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________ | ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ | | | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | | | | /________/ | | / / /________/ | | | | | | / / | | | | | |/ / | | | | | | / | | | | | / | | | | |_/ | | | | | | | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | | | |________________________________________________________________| | |____________________________________________________________________| ...presents... _Beverly Hills 90210_ as Nostalgia Television by Crystal Kile >>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<< -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ |____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____| The full title for this work is "Recombinant Realism/Caliutopian Re-Dreaming: _Beverly Hills 90210_ as Nostalgia Television" and was presented at the 1993 National Popular Culture Association meeting in New Orleans for its "Television and Postmodernism" panel. Crystal Kile is in the Dept. of Popular Culture/ American Culture Studies Program at Bowling Green State University, Bowling Green, Ohio 43402. ______________________________________________________________________________ My life as an instructor in the environment of the undergraduate popular culture studies/television studies classroom is roughly contiguous with the life of the wildly popular FOX series, _Beverly Hills 90210._ Over the past three years, I have read literally dozens of informal response papers and formal essays in which students have attempted to engage and develop some critical angle on the series. What I have found is that my best efforts to stress to them that "the metaphoric real world displayed on television does not display the real world, but displaces it" (F&H 48) and "television does not represent the manifest actuality of our society, but rather reflects, symbolically, the structure of values and relationships beneath the surface" (F&H 24), seemed to have been for naught when the show at hand is _90210_. Well over 80% of my students' essays about the series could be condensed to three sentences: "I can totally identify with Beverly Hills 90210. It is the only show on television that really addresses the issues facing young people in America today. It is an important show because it is so realistic." Conversely, the most popular anti-_90210_ student response, a response that generally makes itself most felt in classroom discussion, is that _90210_ is a stupid and unimportant show, a "fluffy chick show" as one student so concisely put it last semester, because it is so UNrealistic (read: because everyone is so rich and good-looking and all of the problems are tied up at the end of the hour). What I want to present to you today is my take on why the _90210_ debate, wherever it takes place, from the classroom, to the pages of _Entertainment Weekly_ or _Vanity Fair_, to the _90210_ newsgroups/mailing lists on the Internet and CompuServe, seems to rage around the topic of issue-oriented "realism." I want to question what might be at stake in interrogating the "realism" (or the "unreal" pleasures) of this youthcult TV phenomenon. This is a textual reading of the series, one which puts into dialogue the ultimately conservative ideological work of _90210_ and the peculiar postmodern aesthetic strategy contextualizing it. In short, I want to argue that _Beverly Hills 90210_ is what Frederic Jameson, were he to deign to deal directly with the medium, might call "nostalgia television." If this weird elision of youthcult and nostalgia seems to you a bit pernicious, well it should. On the way to establishing that _90210_ is both of the postmodern moment and "not of the moment," it is important to say a word or two about the contexts from which the show emerged. In many ways, _90210_ is a response to the genre of affectless, consumerist, violent, post-punk youthcult literature that emerged in the mid-1980s. The best known of these works, Bret Easton Ellis' _Less Than Zero_, the novel as well as the bomb of a movie that was made of the novel in 1987, is perhaps _90210_'s closest relation, its "twentysomething" sibling. For those of you unfamiliar with the work, the milieu of _Less Than Zero_, like that of _90210_, is upper-upper middle class Los Angeles youth culture. But that is where the resemblance ends. The world that Ellis' so numbly and plotlessly conjures in one of cocaine, anonymous bisexual promiscuity, the best brand name goods, ritual murder, absent families, and young men prostituting themselves to pay off drug debts. In the best tradition of the "L.A. literature" from Nathanel West to Joan Didion to Black Flag, it is apocalyptic. As a cult youthcult text, it elicited alarm. My favorite response to the novel/this genre is UGA professor Sanford Pinsker's 1986 Georgia Review essay, "The Catcher in the Rye and All That: Is the Age of Formative Books Over?" Pinsker needn't have worried. When _Less Than Zero_ was filmed, it was transformed into a morality tale, one which eerily prefigured _90210_. In the film version, the subjectivity-less "anti-protagonist" of the novel is transformed into a young hero who rides back in from college in the East and tries to save his friends from coke and nihilism. The bi-prostitute, coke addict friend, beyond redemption, dies at the end & the hero's girlfriend goes back East with him. In my experience of teaching the novel and the film together, the point being to emphasize the "conservative" dynamic at work in the production of popular texts such as films for the youthcult market, I have found that my students greatly prefer the film version of _Less Than Zero_, the version from which any critique (however affectless) of late consumer capitalism has been excised in favor of emphasis on individual morality, much for the same reasons that they want to insist in the "realism" of _90210_. So, what's up in _90210_? What is the ideological spin of the series? Upon what cultural mythologies is the series built, and how are they connoted in the text? How do the writers work the issue of "realism"? What aesthetic strategies do they deploy to allow them to deal at this moment with this litany of "contemporary issues": teen alcoholism, a parent's addiction, teen sexuality, drinking and driving, date rape, eating disorders, racism, classism, child abuse, adoption, obsessive relationships, drugs, AIDS, steroid abuse, teen suicide, breast cancer, finding oneself the victim of a violent crime, toxic waste dumping, gambling, the divorce of one's parents? In a July 1992 Vanity Fair story about Luke Perry and _90210_, Barry Diller, then-chairman of FOX television, himself an alumnus of the real Beverly Hills High, remarked, "I always thought that a serial-like series about Beverly Hills High was a great idea, because I thought it was a small town in both sensibilities and borders -- very small town -- while at the same time it was, after all, Beverly Hills...[The glitz of Beverly Hills] is just the carny barker outside the tent, getting you into the tent. Once you're in the tent, you go, 'Oh my God! You mean this is really about families? [_90210_] is about family values, but from all different aspect ratios." Ahhh...but the show really isn't about "families," but about a family, and not a "Beverly Hills family," either. _90210_ is about the Walsh family, a nice, upper-middle class Midwestern family that moves to Beverly Hills when Walsh, an investment counselor/accountant of some kind, receives a promotion. Introducing this old fish-out-of-water premise, the very first ad blurb in TV Guide about _90210_ read: "The nice, normal Walsh family just moved from Minneapolis to Beverly Hills. It might as well be Mars." Initial episodes of the series revolved around twins Brenda and Brandon Walsh's negotiation of and adjustment to the opulent fast lane of West Beverly Hills High social life. The Walsh kids are initially status-struck, especially Brenda, but slowly come to realize how much their new friends envy their "boring housewife mom" and everpresent dad. The Walsh family is the only stable nuclear family featured in the series. Master mediators , crisis managers, and instillers of values, the elder Walshes become surrogate parents to their children's friends, and in some cases, to those friends' parents. In short, from their very traditional home, the Walshes clean up Beverly Hills. Condensing it ever further, we could express the dynamic this way: Midwest redeems Sin City. In what context is this redemption "naturalized"? I subscribe that the popular genius of _90210_ is that while it is superficially topical and relevant, while it addresses some of the tensions and themes addressed in 1980s youthcult fictions about and from L.A., it also evinces a deep, yet blank "nostalgia for the "kinder, gentler," "California youthcult mythos" of the late 1950s and early 1960s, nostalgia for the myth of Southern California as paradise for Midwestern WASPs, as Gidget-land, as Disneyland. This "nostalgia" is, in large part, the pleasure of the text. In the moment of 'Just Say No" and sex=death and MTV, this wildly popular re-visioning of the "traditional" Caliutopian white youth culture fantasy, the mythically mediated fullness and "realism" of the show speaks peculiarly well to the "postmodern subjects under construction" who consume it weekly. In a January 1992 article in GQ, TV critic Gerry Hirshey put it this way: "...Aaron Spelling knows America. His wife may wear $4 million in jewels to lunch with the girls, but this TV Croesus is better connected to the weary workaday heartland than any Democratic hopeful with a pantload of consultants, pollsters and focus-group transcripts....[This is the] big populist secret of [Spelling]. I think that he loves his children madly, beyond reason. I think that, like anyone facing postnuclear child-rearing, he's scared to death for them. Daddy's true colors have produced a mammoth hit." In _Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism_, Frederic Jameson diagnoses the symptomatic nature of postmodern texts such as _90210_ this way: "...the postliteracy of the late capitalist world reflects not only the absence of any great collective project, but also the unavailability of the older national language itself. In this situation, parody finds itself without a vocation; it has lived, and that strange new thing pastiche slowly comes to take its place. Pastiche is, like parody, the imitation of a peculiar or unique, idiosyncratic style, the wearing of a linguistic mask, speech in a dead language. But it is the neutral practice of such mimicry, without any of parody's ulterior motives, amputated of the satiric impulse, devoid of laughter and of any conviction that alongside the abnormal tongue you have momentarily borrowed, some healthy linguistic normality still exists. ...this situation evidently determines what architecture historians call "historicism," namely the random cannibalization of all the styles of the past, the play of random stylistic allusion, and what Henri Lefebvre has called the increasing primacy of the "neo." Nostalgia films [Jameson discusses texts as diverse as Body Heat, American Graffiti and Raiders of the Lost Ark] restructure the whole issue of pastiche and project it onto a collective and social level, where the desperate attempt to appropriate a missing past is now refracted through the iron law of fashion change and the eminent ideology of the generation. [George Lucas's _American Graffiti_ was the inaugural film in this genre]....More interesting, and more problematical, are the ultimate attempts, through this new discourse to lay siege...to our own present..." (17-19). There has always been a certain "nostalgia" element to _BH90210_, most notably the much remarked-upon resemblance of the character Dylan McKay, a loner, surfer, heir to a multi-million dollar fortune and proud owner of a '62 Porsche, to James Dean. Still, having followed _90210_ since its premiere in October 1990, I must admit that I was quite shocked to turn on my TV on the evening of July 11, 1991 to see the likes of this (CLIP OF SECOND SEASON INTRO). A variation on this first summer season intro remains the show's regular intro to date. In any case. the first episode of the show's first summer season, titled (no kidding) "Beach Blanket Brandon," saw Brandon give up his counter job at "The Peach Pit," a neo-fifties hamburger place which comes to figure very prominently as the characters' primary hangout during the show's second and third seasons, to work for the summer at The Beverly Hills Beach Club. (Sounds like some cheesey club in some landlocked Midwestern town to me...). The plot of the episode that followed this one was lifted almost directly from the 1984 nostalgia film, _The Flamingo Kid_. Keep in mind that this major shift in the tone of the series took place in the series timeline immediately after the infamous and controversial (and, yes, "realistic") episodes during which Brenda and Dylan have premeditated prom night sex and then experience a pregnancy scare. It is also notable that during this arc of summer episodes, Andrea's and Brenda's teen libidos do battle over a summer school drama teacher played by Michel St. Gerard, the actor who portrayed the young Elvis Presley in the short-lived 1990 ABC series, _Elvis_. It may be true that, as Michael Angelli wrote in the July 1992 issue of _Esquire_, "Frankie and Annette are way, way dead. Gidget's gone. Mike Love's playing the White House. Today's beachboys are tattooed savages wearing a million dollars worth of endorsements, soundtrack provided by the Butthole Surfers," but one could never tell that from watching _90210_. Notably, Brandon Walsh's payoff for a summer of hard work as a cabana boy at the BHBC was a pristine 1965 Mustang convertible to replace "Mondale", the Ford LTD beater that he totalled in the first season "drinking and driving" episode. During the second season of _90210_, the scripts continued to deal with big "issues of the week," but the secondary nostalgia text developed so extremely during the summer episodes continued to assert itself rather forcefully. As already noted, it is during this second season that the Peach Pit, jukebox in the corner, faux-50s decor on the walls, chrome shining, is foregorounded as a site of action... sort of like Arnold's was in _Happy Days_. The fiftiesish personal styles of the two central male characters, Brandon and Dylan, fit right in with the decor, while the more "contemporary" (whatever that means here) styles of the other characters were more or less absorbed and naturalized into the retro setting as the season wore on. Its reality so constructed around the warmth of the Walsh home, a mostly white high school, the beach and The Peach Pit, _90210_, its cosmos thus insulated, continued unflinchingly in its role as youthcultural bard, the most remarkable episode being the one in which a young black man is brutally harassed by the BH police while on his way, on foot, to visit his girlfriend, the daughter of a black family who had recently moved in a few doors down from the Walshes. Typical of the good, liberal, assimilationist manner in which _90210_ glosses all issues of ethnicity, we never saw these characters again after the _90210_ regulars, particularly Brandon, cast as a crusading reporter for the school newspaper, confronted issues of racism though contact with the featured black "guest characters." While the "Other" may get the occasional guest spot on the series, he or she is summarily excised after he/she has taught the _90210_ers some lesson about life. Such has been the fate not only of black characters, but of Chicano characters, gay characters, disabled characters, merely geeky characters...you get the idea. Similarly, though the writers from time to time emphasize the class differences within the core group of characters, the sorts of issues about class and status-consciousness that colored the series' first season, are for the most part wholly glossed over by the second season as the Walshes have somehow become more "at ease" with Beverly Hills. But still, we have to consider that which is simply not permissible in the L.A. that the _90210_ writers have so carefully constructed. You have no doubt noticed that I have yet to really mention the female characters of _90210_: Brenda, Kelly, Donna and, occupying a different space in the text as the token intellectual in the group, Andrea. Rather, it is the young male characters, their styles, activities focus the nostalgia subtext of the series. Not surprisingly, the nostalgia subtext of the series implies a gendered hegemony in which the existence of the female characters is determined by their re-action to the actions of the male characters, be they boyfriends, fathers, stepfathers, or just-friends, and by the clothes that they wear. In the contexts of the series, contemporary female adolescent ambition has been easily clawed back into "nice girls'" nearly exclusive obsessions with romance and fashion. What/who cannot exist, then, in the _90210_ world? Brandon's "fatal attraction" Emily Valentine, the dark side of postmodern teendom incarnate, that's who. The development and resolution of the Brandon Walsh-Emily Valentine romance is a crystal-clear example of the ideological implications of the "nostalgia" subtext of the series. When viewers last saw Emily Valentine, Brandon was paying her a Christmas visit in a mental hospital. When we first saw Emily Valentine, she was riding up to the doors of West Beverly Hills High School on her motorcycle. At this time, September 1991, _90210_ was at the height of its popularity. Emily Valentine had short, tousled, bleached blonde hair with dark roots, she dressed butch, was sexually aggressive, wore interesting earrings, turned both Dylan and Brandon on and, in short, was the only character on the show who might reasonably be expected to know the names of all the members of L7. Emily, we learned had a very un-Walshlike upbringing. Many of her emotional problems resulted from having been bounced from city to city, from Cambridge, to San Francisco, to L.A. to San Francisco, et cetera, whenever her father, identified only as an editor of radical newspapers and journals, took a new job. Emily, then, was coded as a nightmare child of the Sixties generation, as a "bad" postmodern teen. Nowhere in the series is the conservative function of show's nostalgia subtext more clearly illustrated in the 11.14.91 episode, "U4EA," in which Emily leads "the gang" on an excursion away from the safety of The Peach Pit into what is supposed to represent the druggy bowels of the LA club scene. The clip that I'm going to show you now highlights the way that this episode set up the contrast between the safety of _90210_-world and "the real world." (CLIP) Later in the episode, Emily slips Brandon some Ecstasy (or U4EA) under the pretense of "bringing them closer together." Brandon indeed experiences extreme U4EA, but ends up having to abandon his car outside the club when the joint is raided. When he and Dylan return for it early the next morning (even hung-over, Brandon must be at work at the Peach Pit by 7AM), they find the '65 Mustang trashed and stripped. Moral: contemporary or "postmodern" LA is a dangerous place. This moral is emphasized over the next couple of episodes when Emily goes into _Fatal Attraction_ mode after Brandon breaks it off with her for dosing him. After she threatens to self-immolate on the Homecoming Float parked in the Walshes driveway, Emily finds herself in the custody of mental health professionals and that is that. The gang goes back to The Peach Pit and back to the beach where they remain, more or less firmly anchored to this day, even as the series, now in slow decline, has become more conventionally soap opera-like in its emphases. For example, in a juicy little intertextual bit from this past season's Brenda-Dylan-Kelly love triangle, we saw Dylan and Kelly frolic la James Dean and Natalie Wood (or is it la the video for that Paula Abdul song) outside Griffith Observatory. If we accept Fiske's and Hartley's assertion that the bardic utterances of television drama are organized and encoded "according to the needs of the culture for whose eyes and ears they are intended," and that the conventions of seeing and knowing that govern individual dramas code and (re)produce a culture's assumptions about the nature of reality or anxieties about the nature of "reality," then the realism of _90210_ is a fascinating realism. It is a dual realism. As a topical, and "meaningful" youthcult television series, _90210_ faithfully and pleasurably addresses issues of great concern to a teenage and young adult audience coming of age in a postmodern moment. But in a peculiarly postmodern fashion, the realism of the series turns back on itself to reveal that the mode in which television as a mediator of the postmodern chooses to deal with the postmodern and specifically with postmodern youth culture is le mode retro, a mode that implies inertia and containment, the end of ideology, politics, history. A mode that implies a flat-line panic about the future. This, for me, is the troubling thing about the "realism" of _90210_. _______ __________________________________________________________________ / _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842| ((___)) |Cool Beans!..........415/648-PUNK|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362| [ x x ] |Metalland Southwest..713/579-2276|ATDT East...........617/350-STIF| \ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Ripco ][............312/528-5020| (' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! | (U) |==================================================================| .ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Crystal Kile. | \_______/|All Rights Reserved. 07/01/1994-#262|