Category: pop culture

Quick Recs? An Experiment!

On February 23, 2023

In media, pop culture, reflection, writing

Two New Podcasts I’m into (for the moment 😂)

Ned’s Declassified Podcast Survival Guide (rewatch podcast)
Growing up with Devon

I fill a lot ~~(too much)~~ of my time with ✨content✨, so I feel compelled to make recommendations whenever I come across something that feels particularly high quality, or unexpectedly good. I plan on periodically returning to this quick rec¹ practice as I continue to develop the site.

I wanna elaborate on why these two got me to sit down and make this post, but to get there, here are some very un-hot takes that are worth repeating, even if they’ve become pretty standard:

1) There’s a growing surge of rewatch podcasts (mostly sitcoms), where casts reunite to somewhat quell their fanbases’ insatiable appetites for in-universe content.
1.5) Old (or old-adjacent) media = familiarity, which can be particularly welcoming for those navigating unprecedented crises—like adulthood!
1.75) “Adulting” has become a sub-genre of content (blogs/self-help/even entertainment media), probably due to the current moment in tech/social media².

So naturally, one worries that these rewatch pods just unscrupulously cash in on nostalgia, rather than providing something new, informative, or intriguing.
To my pleasant surprise, the Ned’s rewatch podcast doesn’t feel like that at all!

Ned’s Rewatch

Yes, Devon/Lindsey/Daniel had to cope with the pressures of being child-actors in Hollywood, but aside from the relief that they didn’t permanently buckle under that weight, it’s nice to see that they all became thoughtful people³. In particular, it’s been a privilege to take in Devon’s honesty and vulnerability about post-Ned life. And his manner of observation is most striking. He doesn’t bemoan his lack of superstardom; it feels really genuine that he’s reflected on what it means to have been a successful child-star of a series, how that came with a set of expectations, and (often humorously) how he’s humbled himself in reckoning with the realities of continuing to work in entertainment and growing as a person.

I’d already identified pretty strongly with the character he portrayed on one of my favorite shows growing up—a sort of everyman⁴ afforded some measure of social mobility between the archetypical high school cliques by seeking to (and being sought out to) help those around him. But setting that aside, it’s been reassuring to hear about his experiences, at least partially given my own aspirations to some kind of notoriety. The second rec can be framed as a kind of joint project with the rewatch show:

Growing Up With Devon

Everything I’m pleasantly surprised by in the rewatch show, but without the constraint of relating discussion back to the experience of Ned’s as much as possible. Devon is an excellent host who gets authentic with interesting guests (like Alyson Stoner!⁵), listens empathetically, asks engaging questions, and has discussions worth listening to. It’s still early in the show, but I also like the format of asking guests in closing about adulthood survival tips/practices. Kind of like how the Bodega Boys (RIP) used to close by asking their guests on HBO what their neon sign would say.

Update: 5/20/23 – After spending more time with these shows I want to acknowledge a few things that my initial quick rec didn’t address:
i) my own nostalgia definitely primed me to have an affinity for Daniel/Lindsey/Devon, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a non-Ned’s fan were less invested.
ii) it’s a podcast happening in LA, so of course gross overshares abound. Listeners beware. On the one hand, these aren’t the most enriching moments of conversation; but on the other, there’s something to be said for the trend in podcasts. Maybe it serves as a testament to developing intimacy among friends, old and new.

Notes

“Can’t you just enjoy stuff?”

By Rayaz Khan

On September 28, 2021

In art, media, pop culture, reflection, writing

This post has been knocking around in my head for years, and I wanted to try telling it more narratively, rather than just another a business-as-usual opinion dump. With that in mind, disclaimer: this one’s gonna heavily intertwine my experiences with the media I’m examining. If you’re looking for stricter media analysis, I’m definitely into that as well, so please stay tuned to other posts!

Here’s a self-observation I’ve run into¹, time and again. And while I’m sure I can ~postmodern~ my way into recognizing its merits, this behavioral pattern is often, if not always, just plain inappropriate.

If you relate to the overarching “condition”, and I apply this quoted term very loosely here²,
(or any of the ~~tangents~~ subpoints crammed in along the way),
I’d love to hear about it!

The backdrop…

For years, one of my best friends launched a relentless campaign, lobbying me to watch one of her favorite shows. In fairness to her, her primary interest in the series wasn’t a compelling plot, witty writing, or its bold embrace of “cringe-humor”; her focus is, and always has been, the paradoxically ordinary, yet idyllic relationship arc that unfolds between two of the main characters.

(I bet you have no idea what show we’re talking about here.)

Of course, who else could it be but Jim and Pam?

The Office.

From a distance, I had a sense that I wouldn’t like it: glimpsing scenes from flipping channels, frequently encountering clips/memes/edits during my veteran career on the internet, and a vague awareness of some kind of race-based criticism—though, notably, no real sense of the actual details of this criticism—were effective deterrents. I wasn’t motivated to make time to check out a show for which I had the minor-est, most barely perceptible, slightly negative bias. Especially given that I rarely watch anything longer than a YouTube video.³

But eventually, I came around. If only to catch her references (NB: I had no choice, she wouldn’t stop making them😂), and finally develop a cultural literacy I had to have been making a concerted effort to delay up until that point. I was late to the “watch stuff while you eat” party, but when I finally got on board, I started tackling this project at mealtimes ~20 minutes at a time.

Pro-tip for those who feel perpetually backlogged by recommendations: maybe try watching stuff while you eat! Or maybe don’t buckle under the moral valuation of efficiency optimization, and actually allow yourself to enjoy your meals mindfully. Idk. Results may vary.

The findings…

Let’s start with the good:
-The wedding montage set to Chris Brown’s Forever⁴.
-Dwight’s hilarious eccentricities (and comeuppances),
-Mose appearances,
-Daryl.

With that out of the way, I’d be surprised if my feelings about the Office haven’t already been chronicled by hundreds of other think-pieces during its nearly 20 years of airing and syndication. At the risk of rehashing well-trod territory, I’ll list, rather than rant, my frustrations:

-Is living a certain standard of social⁵ privilege a prerequisite for being entertained by the Office? And if so, what would the implications of that be, about media, about representation, and about what shows are conditioned to thrive, and why?

-If I’ve had to endure working with real-life Michael Scotts (because they certainly abound in irl office environments), then why, in my free time, would I want to come home and watch one?

The takeaway…

I’m not wholly against the Office. I don’t think “it’s not funny”⁶, at least not entirely. It seems to have earned its status as a sitcom giant in large part due to the emergence of the binge/comfort rewatch ethos. And streaming only further proliferated our quests for familiarity and predictability. Most importantly, in matters of taste, I’m not interested in yucking anyone’s yums. If it’s media that does something for you, sincerely, I wish you many happy returns to it! But personally, I’d say The Office has its moments, it’s just not one I like revisiting without external motives, like tackling some ongoing project, or trying to recall a detail.

The repitition…

After I was less than thrilled by one of her top 3 series, she suggested another sitcom that I’d always heard about, but was more inclined to give a fair shake. This one instantly captivated me for innumerable reasons: a primary recurring character who I felt somewhat represented by, quippy dialogue, controlled absurdity, six seasons (and a movie??)

And yet, despite immediately adding Community to my rotation of favorite sitcoms I couldn’t not have gripes.⁷ I was most struck by the reminder that black women really get mistreated at every turn: namely, this came as the apparent infantilization of Shirley, which feels to me like a portrayal with mammy overtones. (For contrast, Donna from Parks & Rec feels like an anti-Shirley because she’s allowed to be “cool.”) Either her line delivery is saccarine, warm, and wholly unthreatening, or it suddenly switches to biting, dark, and aggressive. Mary—my beloved friend, the patient recommender—argues that this could be a deliberate choice on the part of Dan Harmon and Yvette Nicole Brown, to portray Shirley as someone whose dark past drives her to manipulative behavior, obviously comedically exaggerated as the heightened reality of a sitcom demands. In order to distance herself from struggling with alcoholism, Shirley is interested in having others perceive her as meekly God-fearing, which is why her catchphrase becomes a bright, sing-songy “oh that’s nice!” However, my (admittedly unfounded) assessment of this is less charitable. It feels like the darker component to Shirley was added after the fact, in order to course-correct a character they’d pigeon-holed by denying her dimension and complexity. It isn’t until late into the second season that Shirley is allowed to evidence why she behaves the way she does, unlike every other character in the main cast, who are each afforded that screentime in the first season.

The hangup

I don’t think studying philosophy has made me this way, constantly critical of the media I consume. But I do wonder why I’m unable to just take shows/movies as they are without the liberal snowflake woke SJW processes constantly operating alongside my viewing experience. Ultimately, this doesn’t bother me (though, not in an elitist way, I hope!) but it is something I notice about the way in which I engage. And wokeness aside, my default way of engaging with performances of any kind tends to be critical analysis rather than “experiencing it for what it is.” This is not a conscious choice, or something I ever recall wanting to make happen for myself, which is why I’m perplexed by it. I’ve especially had to learn that this contrasts with how people usually watch stuff⁸. And I make this remark, not to bracket myself off from the laity, but to wonder aloud:

what the heck is wrong with me??

Notes