COMEDY AND STRUGGLE:
AN ANALYSIS OF COMIC OPERATION IN THE TELEVISION SITCOM
MASTER OF ARTS (RESEARCH)
SCHOOL OF ENGLISH, MEDIA AND PERFORMANCE STUDIES UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES, SYDNEY
DEBORAH T KLIKA
JULY 2010
IN MEMORY OF MY PARENTS OLGA AND KAREL KLIKA WHO TAUGHT ME
TO LAUGH AT LIFE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
THANKS TO MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS WHO PATIENTLY SUPPORTED ME DURING THE RESEARCH AND WRITING OF THIS THESIS, IN PARTICULAR, REBECCA BARNETT AND MARK DEMPSEY
AND TO MY SUPERVISORS:
JOHN McCALLUM WHO FIRST ENCOURAGED ME TO PURSUE THE QUESTION, SPECIFICALLY THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE CHARACTER AND NARRATIVE
DR. LISA TRAHAIR FOR HER INSPIRATION, IN PARTICULAR HER WORK ON THE COMIC; FOR HER GUIDANCE AND VERY GENEROUS ASSISTANCE IN SYNTHESISING AND COMPLETING THIS STUDY
2
ABSTRACT
This study analyses the comic operation of the television sitcom. It does so by examining the behaviour of the sitcom character, the relationships between characters, and how their actions determine or are determined by the narrative.
In reading three Australian texts, Pizza (SBSTV), Kath & Kim (ABCTV) and Acropolis Now (ATN7), this study identifies the entrapment of the comic protagonist(s) as a key defining motif of the television sitcom. It begins with the premise that the comic character is what Henri Bergson defines as an unconscious victim. Using psychoanalytic theory, I argue that their entrapment derives from an unconscious struggle for identity through a relationship with a “discursive frame” delivered through the narrative. This study proposes that the sitcom can be read asking the question: whose struggle is it, and how is that struggle manifested?
Chapter One analyses the sitcom character(s) as suffering some degree of narcissistic personality disorder. I demonstrate that such characters are driven to achieve an idealisation of themselves that is at odds with the world around them. I show how these characters are trapped in a situation that either they attempt to master, or from which they attempt to escape. At the same time, they are unaware of what prevents them from achieving their goal, and in their failure they suffer comic degradation.
Chapter Two examines how these characters‟ feelings of fear and anxiety affect their behaviour. I argue that for some characters their entrapment is borne of a disempowerment that exists in their relationships and is reinforced by the particularity of given situations. This dynamic is unknown to the character.
Chapter Three extends the examination of the character‟s narcissism to observe that, in response to the diegetic reality brought to bear through the narrative, some characters make choices that maintain their idealisation; in so doing they contribute to the definitive closed narrative structure of the sitcom.
Using Umberto Eco‟s notion of comic „frames‟, I argue that the relationship between the character and a discursive frame produces the comic effect. In exposing such frames, I propose that the sitcom can challenge social norms and expectations.
3 ORIGINALITY STATEMENT
„I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and to the best of my knowledge it contains no materials previously published or written by another person, or substantial proportions of material which have been accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma at UNSW or any other educational institution, except where due acknowledgement is made in the thesis. Any contribution made to the research by others, with whom I have worked at UNSW or elsewhere, is explicitly acknowledged in the thesis. I also declare that the intellectual content of this thesis is the product of my own work, except to the extent that assistance from others in the project's design and conception or in style, presentation and linguistic expression is acknowledged.‟
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COPYRIGHT AND AUTHENTICITY STATEMENTS
„I hereby grant the University of New South Wales or its agents the right to archive and to make available my thesis or dissertation in whole or part in the University libraries in all forms of media, now or here after known, subject to the provisions of the Copyright Act 1968. I retain all proprietary rights, such as patent rights. I also retain the right to use in future works (such as articles or books) all or part of this thesis or dissertation.
I have used no substantial portions of copyright material in my thesis.'
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4 CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION...... 6 (re)Reading the sitcom.
I – Framework...... 10 II – The Chapters...... 13 III – The (screen) comic character and their relationship to the narrative. ... 15 IV – Literature review...... 21
CHAPTER ONE ...... 35 The (key) character.
I – Narcissism and the comic character...... 39 II – The comic character‟s struggle within a “containment”...... 50 III – The character is trapped in the gaze of an „Other‟...... 58 IV – Narcissus and Echo as comic characters...... 62
CHAPTER TWO ...... 68 The perpetual (power) struggle of sitcom relationships.
I – Identity, fear and power...... 72 II – The key character‟s struggle for power...... 87 III – The key character‟s disempowerment...... 90
CHAPTER THREE ...... 101 Tension: the character, their narrative and its frame.
I – The key character and their plot...... 105 II – Tension and the „diegetic reality‟ of the narrative...... 117 III – Tension in the premise...... 121 IV – The key character‟s „frame‟...... 124
CONCLUSION ...... 140 Sitcom as a (comic) site of struggle.
BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 142
PROGRAMOGRAPHY ...... 153
5
INTRODUCTION
(re)Reading the sitcom.
When we watch sitcom, we are watching ourselves, and when we deconstruct them, we become aware of how we are constructed.
[Introduction, Critiquing the Sitcom, ed. Joanne Morreale (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003), p. xix.]
The sitcom is one of the most popular and enduring television genres, but also one of the most difficult to analyse. In this thesis I pose the question: what are the dynamics at play in the operation of the sitcom that enable its comicality?1
In addressing this question I set out to understand two commonly cited aspects of the sitcom: the character‟s perpetual entrapment and the “circular” or closed quality of the narrative structure. My central thesis is that at least one character, commonly but not exclusively, the main character, is an unconscious victim of situations wherein
1 The sitcom is the holy grail of the television industry because of its ability to attract large audiences and the potential for repeated viewings in numerous markets. Because of its adaptability, it is seen by the industry as a format rather than a genre or form. However in the development of new programs there appears to be a tendency to rely on elements of previous successes such as the use of well known comedians or archetypal or stereotypical characters. In academia the sitcom is seen as a genre that has the potential to explore ideological tensions within culture. This study seeks to move away from such characterisations to examine the fundamentals that enable the sitcom‟s comic operation. It aims offer a new way of reading the sitcom in order to contribute to both the academic discourse and the development of new programs.
6 a narcissistic personality disorder on their part means that they engage with the dramatic structure of events in such a way as to be repetitively and hence permanently unable to produce change in themselves, their relationships, or the situation in which they exist, thereby perpetuating their entrapment. The question that guides this study is, why? The aim is to understand what generates the character‟s struggle and how such a struggle precipitates their entrapment.
There are many definitions of the sitcom, each of which focuses on aspects such as narrative structure or generic cues.2 What distinguishes the sitcom from television dramas is its unique narrative structure: the situation returns to its stasis.
Barry Curtis has called this the “re-situation”.3 The sitcom‟s key point of departure from other television forms is that the character is not psychologically altered by the events delivered by the narrative.4
I embark on a psychoanalytic interpretation of the character, examining in particular how their identity is constructed through narcissistic desire. I set out to demonstrate that at least one character in the sitcom struggles to achieve an identity that is either beyond their capacity or thwarted by forces unknown to them. In doing so, I seek to read characters in the sitcom according to Jacques Lacan‟s conception of the alienated subject. I argue that the sitcom is premised on a struggle for identity by key characters who remain “trapped” as a result of such a narcissistic personality disorder, reinforced by disempowering relationships and situations that they seek to
2 See Brett Mills, Television Sitcom, (London: BFI Publishing, 2005), pp. 26-37. 3 Barry Curtis, „Aspects of Sitcom‟ in Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17, (Jim Cook, ed., London: BFI, 1982), p. 8. 4 If the character is psychologically transformed through circumstances, such as falling in love or the need to physically leave the situation, such events usually signal the end of the series. Hour long and even half hour drama programs have begun to introduce comedy as a point of difference and are known as comedy-dramas (Sex and the City is a good example). Such programs begin with an inciting incident that challenges the character/s in some way, but characters in these programs are generally not powerless. This study demonstrates that the comic character is powerless and their behaviour is an attempt to nullify feelings of powerlessness. As long as the dynamics that elicit such feelings remain unconscious the character is compelled to repeat the cyclic and comic behaviour.
7 master, or from which they attempt to escape. I further argue that it is the key character‟s relationship with the social that both defines them and defies them, and thus engenders their comicality.
The sitcom is a play in three acts, with a story that has a beginning (the situation coupled with an inciting incident), middle and end. I define the sitcom as a half hour comic story involving a small group of characters premised on a struggle for identity. My interest is focussed on reading the sitcom as a comic form rather than as a genre.5 As such, I begin with the proposition that the sitcom conforms to the principles of dramatic writing posited by Aristotle: namely, the sitcom is a thematically unified mode of drama centred on the character whose actions and interactions produce a plot that is comic in nature.6 Understanding the sitcom as a mode involves illuminating its dynamics as a form of storytelling that is comic.7 Thus the aim of this study is to understand the operation of the comic in the sitcom at the level of the narrative.
I examine three Australian programs: Acropolis Now (ATN7 1989), Kath &
Kim (ABC 2003) and Pizza (SBS 2005).8 Apart from being the most recent Australian sitcoms to have achieved a considerable degree of popularity, the breadth and
5 Comedy, according to Andrew Horton, is split into anarchistic comedy and romantic comedy, with the former used to attack society and the latter to unite opposing forces; Laughing Out Loud, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000). For a diagrammatic view of this split see pp. 1-18. Also Jan Hokenson, The Idea of Comedy: History, Theory, Critique, (Madison, Teaneck: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2006), p. 14. 6 Drama is about a conflict between characters that is resolved, whereas the conflict in sitcom is resolved by the disruption being expelled. Dramatic conflict is driven by the character with clear goals and motivation encountering obstacles resulting in some degree of transformation, or at the least as in hour long drama programs, the revelation of some information. In sitcom, an “inciting incident” threatens the disruption of the situation or status quo which is, after twenty-three minutes, is resolved; the situation remains unchanged, and, more importantly, the relationships between characters, including their conflicts are unaltered. This study seeks to understand the dynamics of the premise that enables repeated conflict that is never resolved. 7 Genre determines the style of a program. The sitcom is a subgenre of television narrative comedy, which itself is a mode of storytelling. Modes, such as comedy or drama, determines story form and are defined by features of telling, such as the narrative structure and styles of performance. 8 Dates stated here are the first year of transmission of the episodes examined, and are not necessarily the first year the program went to air. See Programography for further details, including initial dates.
8 diversity of these examples permit the identification of recurrent elements, thereby supporting the aim of this study to establish the precipitating conditions of the character‟s entrapment.9 Even though I refer exclusively to the sitcom, the analyses I undertake are relevant to the broader form of television narrative comedy.10
Each of the programs that I examine provide a unique articulation of character, relationships and narrative. Pizza is centred on the antics of a single character, Pauly, while Kath & Kim, a satirical parody, explores the relationship between mother and daughter.11 Both programs rely heavily on comic performance and gags. On the other hand, Acropolis Now is driven by story and has the highest level of integration between character and events. As such, it has a much stronger narrative line than the other two. Further, these programs span a sixteen-year time frame and reflect the shifting discourses of multiculturalism during that period. In observing that these
9 Acropolis Now is a traditional sitcom, shot on videotape (as opposed to film) using three cameras (multicamera) on a set in front of an audience; Kath & Kim is a satirical parody shot with a digital camera on location with no audience or laugh track; Pizza is a satire/carnivalesque style program filmed entirely on location. This study focuses on programs that are more closely related to the sitcom rather than trying to separate it from the satirical narrative comedy; it aims to demonstrate that what connects such programs is the struggle by one or more characters for an identity that they repeatedly fail to achieve. 10 At this point it is useful to delineate between the term narrative comedy as used in television to that of film studies. The production and success of sitcom has in recent years become fraught with expectation. To neutralise negative reaction and possible “failure”, the term „narrative comedy‟ or even „dramedy‟ was taken up, bypassing the expectation-ladened term „sitcom‟. Nevertheless some programs are sitcoms by the definitions cited, despite their label. However some, such as the 1980s BBC series Butterflies, were deliberately conceived as a more soap style narrative encompassing comic dialogue and storylines extending across episodes that culminate in a final episode. These „dramedies‟ paved the way for episodic comedies with stories that ran over a number of episodes; Kath & Kim with their preparation for a wedding (series 1) or the birth of a baby (series 2) are good examples. But what differentiates Butterflies from Kath & Kim is that in the former the character fantasises about having an affair that affects her interaction with other characters; to some degree the character seeks transformation but in the final she episode decides to stay with the family, whereas in Kath & Kim, despite external events, there is no psychological transformation or desire for transformation or even a choice that will result in transformation. See Brett Mills‟ description of Butterflies in Television Sitcom, as before, p. 45. 11 Sue Turnbull discusses the satirical nature of Kath & Kim in relation to Frontline and The Games, „„Look at Moiye, Kimmie, Look at Moiye!‟: Kath and Kim and the Australian Comedy of Taste‟, Media International Australia incorporating Culture and Policy, (113, Nov 2004: 98-108). While Kath & Kim is a satirical parody it has more elements of „sitcom‟ than the two other programs mentioned, which are satirical in both form and content.
9 discourses construct “frames” that seek to define identity through culture, I explore the character‟s relationship to „discursive frames‟ to demonstrate how they assist comic effect.
This study also makes reference to the 1950s American comedy I Love Lucy
(CBS 1951), the 1970s British comedy Fawlty Towers (BBC 1975), the Australian program Hey Dad! (ATN 7 1987), more recent sitcoms such as the American programs Seinfeld (NBC 1990), Friends (NBC 1994), Everybody Loves Raymond
(CBS 1996) and the British program My Family (BBC 2000). These programs add further weight to my findings regarding the three central texts and demonstrate that the arguments offered are not exclusive to Australian programs.12
In the next section I outline the framework for this study. This is followed by a summary of each chapter. I then discuss the work of comic and screen theorists who have informed my thinking, followed by a review of existing literature relevant to this study.
I – Framework.
The framework for this study is a psychoanalytic analysis of the behaviour of the character, the relationships between characters and how their actions determine or are determined by the narrative. It sets out to demonstrate that a more fundamental structure, which is nothing less than a personality disorder, generates particular narrative debacles.
12 My previous research paper into the development and influences of the Australian sitcom observed that there existed a cycle of boom and bust in local production.„Between those of us who laugh and those of us who don‟t … ‟ A look at the Sitcom from an Australian perspective, MA research project, UNSW, 1990. This cycle peaked in the late 1980s. Until then Hey Dad! (ATN 7 1987), Mother & Son (ABC 1985), and Acropolis Now (1989) were the longest running sitcoms of the 1980s during which over fifteen different programs were produced. But in the 1970s over thirty-five different programs were made and in the 1990s production slowed with Frontline (1994) and The Games (1998) being the main offerings. The next most successful show was Kath & Kim, produced in 2002.
10 While many readings of the sitcom recognise the tension within or between performance and narrative, there has been little discussion of the relationship between character and narrative. The exception here is the work of Mick Eaton and Steve
Neale and their two essays published in Screen (1981).13 Apart from Patricia
Mellencamp, Eaton and Neale are the only theorists to undertake a psychoanalytic reading of the sitcom.14 Like Mellencamp, they restrict themselves to Sigmund
Freud‟s theorisation of the joke, the comic and humour.
Eaton and Neale envisage a shared narcissism between the character and the spectator as their means to understanding the comicality. Like Eaton and Neale, my starting point is also narcissism, but my focus is on narcissism solely as the character generates it and how this, in turn, might generate their comicality.
In psychoanalytic theory, narcissism is understood to assist identity formation but can also manifest pathologically, and hence negatively, in situations premised upon a pre-existing experience of trauma. To understand how such narcissism operates in normative and non-normative contexts, I examine both Freudian and post-
Freudian psychoanalytic theory, particularly, Jacques Lacan‟s work on ego maturation. Understanding such behaviour through theories of pathological (and thus abnormal) narcissism helps to locate the psychic tension that in turn gives rise to the comic operation. This study‟s examination of narcissism concentrates, in particular on how desire, fear, anxiety and denial precipitate behaviour in a character that enable the features that characterise the sitcom and its narrative structure.
Further, I aim to understand how psychical construction, particularly that which is unconscious, results in behaviour that leads to the character‟s comic
13 Mick Eaton, „Laughter in the Dark‟ pp. 21-5 and Steve Neale, „Psychoanalysis and Comedy‟, pp. 29- 43, both in Screen (22.2 (1981)). 14 Patricia Mellencamp, „Situation Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟. Critiquing the Sitcom, (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003: 41-55).
11 degradation and perpetual entrapment. I contend that the comic degradation often coincides with the narrative climax as symptomatic of a disorder. This study seeks to theorise the disorder in order to understand what drives the key character and the nature of his/her response when his/her sense of self and identity is threatened.
The myth of Narcissus assists this study by elucidating the nature of relationships between characters and their psychic constructions as manifestations of
Narcissus or Echo. In contending that “echoism” is a form of arrested narcissism, I argue that relationships between characters in a sitcom are centred on a dynamic that entraps them.
Beyond the writings of Freud and Lacan, and the myth from which the term originates, I use a number of texts that explore psychological behaviour borne of fear and anxiety. I demonstrate that some characters harbour aspects of not only Narcissus but also Echo, and argue that at least one character is a „divided‟ subject who seeks to define or maintain an identity, but is trapped in a struggle with an „other‟ that is unknown to them. I label this character the key character, and the „other‟ I define as being constituted through relationships, the dynamics of which extend to a social hegemony within which the character is situated. By demonstrating that the key character‟s narcissism leads them to deny any reality that thwarts their desire, I argue that the choices the key character makes in acting through such denial or disavowal shapes the narrative structure. This study proposes that the sitcom can be read through the question: whose struggle is it and how is that struggle manifested?
12 II – The Chapters.
Each chapter poses a question through which to read the character‟s struggle. Chapter
One undertakes an examination of the character to understand the behaviour of the character using Freud‟s paper „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟ (1914) and the myth of Narcissus.15 The chapter is guided by the theme of desire – the character wants something from the external world and needs to alter that world or remove obstacles from it in order to achieve their goal – and explores how narcissism drives the character to achieve their goals.
I examine in detail the character of Pauly from Pizza and the character of Kim from Kath & Kim to explore how narcissistic desire forms identity. I argue that
Pauly‟s narcissism is primarily manifest in his relation to objects and Kim‟s in relation to others, particularly her “second best friend” Sharon. In closely examining
Mellencamp‟s reading of Lucy and Freud‟s work on humour, I propose that the comic character is trapped in what Lacan has called the Imaginary. I show how at least one character compulsively repeats the struggle to escape the Imaginary and enter the
Symbolic in the social through an idealised view of themself – the Ego-Ideal.16 This character (or group of characters) I label the key character(s). Such characters are primarily narcissistic as a result of their attachment to an Ego-Ideal, but simultaneously are undermined by an echoistic „gaze‟ that is unknown to them and prevents them from achieving their goals or desires. Their compulsion to repeat makes them the comic engine of the program. In defining the key character I ask who struggles to maintain or gain an Ego-Ideal – but is unable to?
15 M. Innes (trans.), The Metamorphoses of Ovid, (London: Penguin, 1955) and Ovid, Metamorphoses, (Translated A.D. Melville. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1986). 16 Patricia Mellencamp in Joanne Morreale (ed.), Critiquing the Sitcom, as before. Sigmund Freud, „Humour‟ (1927) in James Strachey (ed.), The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud no. XXI, (London: Hogarth Press, 1964) and Jacques Lacan, The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psycho-analysis, (London and New York: Karnac books, 1973).
13 In Chapter Two, I examine the factor of fear in provoking anxiety and extreme
(comic) behaviour as the cause of the key character‟s entrapment. Using the work of clinical psychologist Dorothy Rowe to better understand the nature of fear, I analyse the extreme comic performance of Basil from Fawlty Towers and Kim from Kath &
Kim.17 I also observe the relationship between Kim and Sharon. Using Freud‟s essays,
„Beyond the Pleasure Principle‟ and „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, I propose that the character‟s narcissism is determined by a combination of their fear of not achieving their Ego-Ideal, coupled with an anxiety borne of disempowerment.18 I extend my thinking about echoism to argue that the key character‟s relationships are based in a disempowering dynamic centred on a struggle for power. In articulating such relationships, I ask: by whom does the key character seek to be recognised?
In Chapter Three I discuss narrative structures. Using Seymour Chatman‟s work on narrative theory, I analyse the character‟s responses and choices to their situation in an episode of Acropolis Now.19 I examine moments in the narrative that threaten the key character‟s sense of self. I offer that at those moments the character‟s narcissism blinds them to any reality that is at odds with their Ego-Ideal. By observing the choices that characters make at certain points in the story, I demonstrate that such choices are logically consistent with each of the character‟s world view; it is a clash of logics that produces the comicality and progresses the narrative, but it is the denial of certain realities by the character that forces the narrative back to the re- situation, leading to the question: what threatens the key character‟s sense of self in the diegetic reality of the narrative?
17 Dorothy Rowe, Beyond Fear, (London: Harper Perennial, 2007). 18 Both papers can be found in Beyond the Pleasure Principle and Other Writings, (John Reddick, (trans), London: Penguin Classics, 2003); the first can be found on pp. 44-102, and the second on pp. 151-240. 19 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film, (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1978).
14 In examining the central premise of the television series and the hegemonic drive that spawns the program, I argue that the premise of a program is centred on a struggle borne of a discourse.20 Using Umberto Eco‟s notion of comic „frames‟, I offer that it is the relationship between the character and the discursive frame that attempts to define them, which, when transgressed, enables the comic effect.21 The comicality of the characters is thus an attempt to master this discourse. It becomes apparent that their struggle, borne of their relationships, is further reinforced by the diegetic reality delivered through the narrative.
III – The (screen) comic character and their relationship to the narrative.
I take my definition of the comic character from Henri Bergson, who argues that it is the character‟s attachment to particular habits of behaviour and their absentmindedness that causes them to be comic.22 The character‟s actions are at odds with our expectations and knowledge of the world. Their attachment to a certain world view or view of self is at odds with reality. It is this gap between how they see themselves, how we perceive them, and the reality they are at odds with, that generates the comedy. They are incongruous with their environment. For Bergson the comic figure is something less than man‟s ideal. Like Aristotle, and Freud after him, for Bergson the comic is bound up with degradation.23
In his work on the film genre comedian comedy, Steve Seidman demonstrates that comic figures are characterised by aberrant behaviour, such as childishness and
20 David Marc argues in Comic Visions that sitcoms are spawned of a time and its discourse. I discuss his text in the literature review, (Massachusetts, Oxford: Blackwell Publishers second edition, 1997). 21 Umberto Eco, „The frames of comic “freedom”‟ in Carnival!, (ed. Thomas A Sebeok. Berlin: Mouton Publishers, 1984). 22 Henri Bergson, Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic, (Translated by Cloudesley Brereton and Fred Rothwell, 1911. Copenhagen: Green Integer, 1999), p. 20. 23 Lisa Trahair argues this point in The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2007), p. 114.
15 regressive tendencies. He sees these comic figures, which have their origin in the trickster archetype, as expressing behaviour that a given culture cannot accommodate.24 Seidman‟s analysis of the comic character demonstrates that their comicality is inherent in their conflict with “reality”. As “outsiders”, comic characters are either expelled from the “tribe” or conform to its cultural demands, and in doing so “grow up”. Such characters perform a mythic purpose.
Seidman delineates two types of comic characters within the genre: one is childlike and engages in comic antics; the other is psychotic or neurotic. Seidman details the nature of the character‟s behaviour, explaining it in terms of identity confusion. He does not examine what might be informing the behaviour.
Andrew Horton takes a different tack by defining “types” of comic performance (anarchistic and romantic) to argue that each accords with different stages of ego maturation. He writes
… you can think of anarchistic comedy as “pre-Oedipal” since it is about a stage of development when the individual is all appetite and no compromise. Romantic comedy, however, is “Oedipal” for it recognizes the need to sublimate one‟s own desires to work together with those of your partner … And although anarchistic comedy tends toward caricature, romantic comedy has always embodied a fuller view of character because of the emotions evoked in romance.25
Both Seidman and Horton see the comic character as affected by ego maturation and the (in)ability to engage with the social. Seidman demonstrates that the character must either change to fit in with the social demands, or be expelled from the diegetic reality proposed by the film. Extending Seidman‟s work, I view the comic figure in the television sitcom as having its roots in childish or regressive behaviour.
24 Steve Seidman, Comedian Comedy: A Tradition in Hollywood Film, (Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International Research Press, 1981). 25 Andrew Horton, Writing the Character-Centered Screenplay, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp. 42-3.
16 Again, it is the tension between the character and the demands of the diegetic reality in which they exist that engenders comic tension. However, in the sitcom the comic figure is not expelled from the diegesis, nor are they transformed.
In Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, Susan Purdie also equates comic character types with arrested stages of ego maturation. The „oral receptive‟ character is a parasitic figure that resembles the trickster archetype: they trick others into giving them what they want. Whereas the „oral sadistic‟ figure takes from others what they want. Purdie views the comic character as both the butt and hero of the social. For her, joking is an attempt to master the discourse as “language-in-use”.26 Purdie applies both psychoanalytic and recognition theory to understand the role of joking and comedy in the construction of subjectivity.27 For her, meaning lies in another person‟s reception of that meaning: “Man‟s desire finds its meaning in the desire of the other, not so much because the other holds the key to the object desired, as because the first object of desire is to be recognised by the other”.28
Using Jacques Lacan‟s stages of ego maturation – the Imaginary, Symbolic and Real – Purdie argues that comedy and joking entail an “irruption” of the
Imaginary through “a marked transgression of the Symbolic Law”.29 For Purdie, if all joking “involves a violation of that rule,” then the comic does too.30 The comic character seeks to be recognised in the social.
Purdie is particularly interested in the role that language plays in the construction of identity, and argues that the butt of the joke is discursively incompetent and their “ineptness distinguishes them from us, reinforcing our own
26 Susan Purdie, Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), pp. 101-2. 27 As before, p. 171. 28Susan Purdie quoting Lacan, as before, p.29. 29 As before, p. 30. 30 As before, p. 34.
17 identity as fully subjected, „law-abiding‟ masters of discourse”.31 For her, funniness comes from the relationship of the character to the discursive entrapment, using jokes as a form of attack or defence. She writes: “It is funny when someone claiming power suddenly betrays ineptness which degrades them and removes their power …”.32 For her, laughter can be invoked by someone within our power (such as a baby or kitten) claiming power.33 While Purdie is principally interested in the shifting position of the butt and master in joke construction, what her thesis elucidates is that the comic character is powerless in relation to the discourse they seek to master.34 She argues that comic character is determined by the discourse within which it exists:
Whatever psychological or other pattern can be identified, a comic character is always involved not only with a social but specifically discursive transgression. Social and psychic identity formations are inseparable … but the discursive aspect of their behaviour must be foregrounded in comic characters, not least because otherwise they would be implicating and unfunny. The particular behaviour constructed as discursively incompetent may alter with changing social arrangements, producing contradictions in the process; comedy generally reflects current as well as recurrent dreams of ambiguity, even if it uses historical settings.35
Purdie demonstrates that psychoanalysis is useful for understanding the ideological ramifications of joking and comedy through formation of the psyche.
Having determined that comedy (including both joking and the comic) emerges in response to an ideology, Purdie writes that “the construction of joking may vary to some extent, in ways that will reflect differing ideological constructions of the nature
31 Susan Purdie, Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, as before, p. 59. 32 As before, p. 66. 33 As before, p. 59. 34 Purdie is interested in the shifting position of the comic and the power they hold or desire, thus they become the object of „othering‟. She goes on to say “there is no point in „othering‟ people who have no claim to identify the space you are trying to occupy. … The power/threat they pose is that of escaping this construction… which needs constant reinforcement”. Thus for her it is the relationship to power for each the butt and the master that determines joke construction and comedy. As before, p. 66. 35 As before, p. 104.
18 of language and identity”.36 The psychic construction of identity through language is shaped by both conscious and unconscious determinants. This raises the question of the role of the unconscious in the construction of identity and how that contributes to joking and comedy. If the comic seeks to master the discourse and the comic exists in the social, then it follows that we will find the comic character‟s struggle located in the Symbolic register of the social.
This view is alluded to by Patricia Mellencamp in her paper „Situation
Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟.37 In it she explores the spectator‟s shifting identifications with the comic in relation to the social discourses of the time. Using Freud‟s work on the process of the comic and humour,
Mellencamp demonstrates that the character of Lucy, in particular, reflects the feelings of anger and frustration felt by women who had participated in the workforce during the war and were afterwards sent back to the kitchen.
Taking as a backdrop the discourse of the 1950s‟ “containment” policies as a defensive military strategy of U.S. foreign policy, Mellencamp argues that such policies were “practiced on the domestic front … aimed at excluding women from the work force and keeping them in the home … urged to leave the city, work force, and salaries; to move to the suburbs, leisure and tranquillity; to raise children; and to placate commuting, overworked husbands for free”.38 Hence, she writes of discursive containment as a means of commenting on the way that language assists the maintenance of social hegemony. She argues that performers like Lucille Ball and
Gracie Allen of The Burns and Allen Show were skilled in exploring the frustration
36 Susan Purdie, Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, as before, p. 172. 37 A revised version appears in Joanne Morreale (ed.) Critiquing the Sitcom, (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003) and is the version to which I refer. 38 Patricia Mellencamp, „Situation Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟, as before, p. 42.
19 that women felt at being corralled into such a limited life. Mellencamp argues that comic characters such as Lucy sought to challenge such ideals and, in their clash with this discursive containment, become (comic) victims. Her contention is that it was the discourse of the time that not only defined women‟s roles but also engendered a sense of powerlessness and it was such feelings that generate their comicality.
In her text, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early
Cinematic Slapstick, Lisa Trahair also uses psychoanalytic theory, but within a philosophical framework, to examine the nature, terms and logic of the operation of the comic. For Trahair “the comic is not nonsense as such, but the relation of meaning to nonsense”.39 The comic figure may be a way to laugh at others, including ourselves, but for her, the comic is a way to help us negotiate meaning. Trahair demonstrates, alongside Seidman, that the comic operation is enabled through an encounter between the character‟s arrested maturation, manifest in infantile or regressive tendencies, and the diegesis of the film, brought to bear through the narrative. Trahair theorises the operation of the comic in relation to the narrative.
Using the work of Buster Keaton, Trahair reads Keaton‟s performance through psychoanalysis, to not only connect the comic to the narrative, but also to locate the existence and nature of the tension that generates the comicality.40 Trahair demonstrates that screen comedy is enabled through the tension between the mental functioning of the pleasure principle (general economy) and the reality principle
(restricted economy). The former is what determines the comic through the primary processes of wish fulfilment, condensation and displacement; the latter is informed by
39 Lisa Trahair, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, as before, p. 33. 40 Steve Seidman and Lisa Trahair both demonstrate that comicality is informed through the tension between the character‟s desire or view of the world and the reality of narrative, with the character being transformed by the narrative or expelled from the diegesis of the film.
20 goals and structure, often imposed through the narrative. Trahair argues that comedy emerges from an encounter between a “general economy” of nonsense and a
“restricted economy” of meaning. For her, Keaton‟s films are resolved through fate or chance, rather than meaning and logic, thus demonstrating that the comic does not subordinate itself to meaning. I discuss her work in more detail in Chapters One and
Three, but for now note that Trahair‟s theorising of tension between the general economy of the comic and the restricted economy of the narrative paves the way for this study to explore the tension between the comic and their narrative.
Alenka Zupancic also explores comedy and the comic operation through psychoanalytic theory.41 Again using both Freud and Lacan, Zupancic studies comedy through the notion of repetition, exposing unknown and unknowable repression. She sees comedy as “the repeated functioning of the Symbolic and its affect on the subject”. She writes: “We relate to comic characters through a trait (Master-Signifier) and its relation to our enjoyment remains unconscious …”.42 For her, comedy emerges in the vacillation and repetition between sense and nonsense. Here psychoanalysis is used to understand the basis of enjoyment, as well as behaviour of the comic as character.
Both Trahair and Zupancic connect the character‟s behaviour to the narrative.
IV – Literature review.
In general, approaches to the study of the sitcom and television narratives have attempted to define its generic conventions and the expectations and pleasures of the audience. This literature review summarises the major studies of the sitcom in chronological order to outline where current scholarship rests. These studies assisted
41 Alenka Zupancic, The Odd One In: On Comedy, (Cambridge and London: The Mit Press, 2008). 42 As before, pp. 195-197.
21 in the development of this framework, in particular the recurring themes of power and struggle that many analysts see as enabling the comic operation of the sitcom.
The areas of study fall into three broad categories:
1. the formalist approach led by Mick Eaton in the early 1980s, that sought to understand the tensions that define generic conventions,
2. ideological readings that sought to understand the sitcom as a site of power struggle, and
3. generic analysis, led by Paul Attallah in 1984.43
Further, the studies discussed overlap and intersect with sociological developments of the genre in relation to social discourses that shaped programs. David Marc‟s study,
Comic Visions (1989) is a good example of such a study, as well as the recent text by
Brett Mills, Television Sitcom.44
Mick Eaton, in his seminal article „Television Situation Comedy‟, argues for the need to shift the study of the sitcom from a focus on ideological arguments to the recognition of the production constraints in the creation and development of the genre.45 For Eaton, the audience obtains pleasure from the sitcom, not because nothing changes, but because of the repetition of the familiar, whether in dialogue phrases, physical gestures or behavioural antics. In other words he concentrates his focus on the formal conventions of the genre itself, and the variations to which they were subjected in different examples of it, rather than on what distinguished it from other genres. Eaton shifted the focus on the sitcom as a form of narrative distinct from other television forms, such as the soap opera or drama to a distinctive play within the
43 Paul Attallah, „The Unworthy Discourse – Situation Comedy in Television‟ in Critiquing the Sitcom, A Reader, as before; also published in 1984 and 1992. 44 David Marc, Comic Visions and Brett Mills, Television Sitcom, as before. 45 Mick Eaton, „Television Situation Comedy‟ in Popular Television and Film, (London: BFI Open University Press, 1981).
22 narrative. This distinctive play entailed a dichotomy between two “realities”. Eaton‟s key point is that “every situation which is established needs to have a fairly rigid inside/outside dichotomy” and it is the polarities of the dichotomy that produce the work.46 He examines Going Straight (BBC 1978), a spin off from the popular series
Porridge (BBC 1973). Each program stars Ronnie Barker as an inmate who then
“goes straight”. Eaton sees a double definition of the inside/outside operating in the later series: “the first is the one between the two series … [and] the second the one set up by the problematic of the show”.47 This problematic, borne of the original series, is the dichotomy between the life of the prison and the life “outside”. In seeking to define the sitcom as generated by the tension or struggle between the polarities of two such dichotomies, Eaton argues that it this tension that drives the narrative and enable comicality.
In a series of essays edited by Jim Cook in 1982, entitled the British Film
Institute Dossier 17: Television Sitcom, the sitcom is examined from a number of perspectives.48 The BFI dossier was one of the first comprehensive and serious attempts to discuss the sitcom on its own terms as a genre, rather than as a postscript to film comedy or type of television format. Despite a number of conflicting views about the role of comedy and the sitcom‟s attempts, even responsibility, to challenge or reinforce ideologies and dominant discourses, a central theme of the dossier concerns the way the narrative is driven by a tension between character and discourse.
All the papers in the dossier deal explicitly or implicitly with what is viewed as a power struggle existing within the sitcom, which is centred on nodes such as genre, class and political institutions. The authors seek to understand not only the tension
46 Mick Eaton, „Television Situation Comedy‟ in Popular Television and Film, as before, p. 33. 47 As before, p. 38. 48 Jim Cook (ed.), Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17, (London: British Film Institute, 1982).
23 between the form and content of given programs but also what precipitates the tension. Many of the essays argue that the sitcom is a form capable of expressing social dissent. They suggest that such dissent can be located in the content, representation, narrative and discourse, but not in its form. Three papers, in particular, are relevant to this study.
In his paper, „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟, Cook investigates how narrative structure, character (type) and performance contribute to comedy.49 He observes that the appropriateness of different “types of performance … to different types of comic narrative” produces the tension between form and content, and thus enables comicality.50 He is wary of the theoretical utility of Freud‟s work on the joke because the logic of the primary processes and their governance of the unconscious is very different to the logic that governs the articulation of narrative.
Taking up what is known as the incongruity theory of humour, Cook argues that foregrounding plot structure is a distinctive feature of comic narrative and “this foregrounding is frequently typified by the unexpected and incongruous incidents which constitute the comic situation”.51 Cook lists Gerald Mast‟s eight comic plots to ascertain that in the sitcom the story itself is not necessarily funny, but that the narrative is organised around, and guided by the logic of a comic intention.52 While
49 Jim Cook, „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟, BFI Dossier, as before, pp. 13-18. 50 As before, p.17. 51 As before, pp. 14-15. Also John Morreall writes that the incongruity theory of humour accounts for “a violation of a pattern in someone‟s picture of how things should be.” It is the pairing of objects or people out of the context we have come to expect; Taking Laughter Seriously, (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1983), pp. 60-61. Cook is utilising the theory to demonstrate how incongruous comic situations are enabled through the plot. 52 Cook lists Mast‟s eight comic plots, in summary, as: 1. New Comedy: lovers wed despite obstacles 2. structure of parody such as sketches 3. reductio ad absurdum, simple mistake results in chaos, e.g. Fawlty Towers 4. investigation of the workings of a particular society, e.g. Yes Minister
24 Cook demonstrates some connection between Mast‟s comic plots and “situations”, he stops short of accounting for the sitcom‟s closed or “circular” narrative. He argues instead that form (as narrative structure) alone does not render a text conservative.
Using Monty Python as an example he surmises that playing with form is not necessarily progressive, but that content can carry messages such as the exploration of masculine contradictions that he sees occurring in The Likely Lads (BBC 1964). Thus for Cook the sitcom demands an active reading of both form and content through the duality of engaged enjoyment and analytic distance.
Terry Lovell examines realist and anti-realist narratives to argue that the structure of the sitcom narrative prevents it from being subversive. For Lovell, who is interested in the role that power plays in narrative comedy, the form of the narrative dominates over the content. This raises the question: does power operate only through the form or can it operate through content as well?
Giles Oakley analyses Yes Minister (BBC 1980) through a historical framework, to place the program in the context of debates concerning the public service of that time. The thrust of these debates centred on the dissonance within, and between, the discourses of the public service and Government objectives. He demonstrates that the struggle between such discourses is based on power.
As mentioned, Mick Eaton and Steve Neale approached screen comedy through a psychoanalytic framework, with two important papers published in 1981.53
Using Freud‟s conception of the joke, both Eaton and Neale sought to understand the
5. protagonist as function to “bounce off the people and events around him” 6. a structure of gags 7. the heroic endeavor, such as Keaton; Cook: not amenable to the television series format 8. discovery of life-long error or foible. „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟ as before, p. 14. 53 Mick Eaton, „Laughter in the Dark‟ pp 21-5; and Steve Neale, „Psychoanalysis and Comedy‟, pp 29- 43; both papers in Screen (22.2 (1981)).
25 tension in, and pleasure gained from, film and TV screen comedy. Freud‟s proposition that, in laughing the comic exposes our own narcissism, underscores their analysis of the narcissism between the screen comic character and the spectator.
Departing from his previous formalist stance, Eaton here recognises that jokes and comedy are tied to contemporary ideological concerns. Eaton sets out to understand the audience‟s psychical investment in the comic. He identifies an interest by the mature psyche in a childish, infantile desire for play and affirmation of itself through familiarity. But he also observes a move consistent with narrative development in the joke‟s capacity to bring the audience to see “familiar things, familiar people, familiar institutions in a new light … the defamiliarisation of the familiar”.54 When the familiar has been transgressed we laugh, and as the transgression becomes familiar we gain pleasure. Eaton‟s analysis focuses on the tension between “the recognition of the familiar and the possibility of the transgression of conventions” as a means of understanding “the ideological nature and functions of comedy, whether it be the joke, the comedy film, the situation comedy or whatever”.55 In understanding the joke as transgressing the familiar Eaton conflates the familiar with ideology. But we could just as well ask whether this coupling of the familiar with ideology is based in something other than ideology.
In examining the situation comedy, Eaton argues that “the entry of outside elements which threatened the initial situation can only be resolved by an expulsion of those elements, or the series would collapse”.56 Referring to an episode of Fawlty
Towers, Eaton notes an interesting deviation from other episodes where Basil is forced to flee the situation, because “[t]he outside element proved incapable of
54 Mick Eaton, „Laughter in the Dark‟, as before, p. 25. 55 As before, p. 25. 56 As before, p. 23.
26 ejection”. He argues, however, that because of “acceptance of the series format” the spectator forgets this event in time for next week‟s episode and “the situation [returns] back to its unstable equilibrium”.57
In his essay, Neale explores the similarity between the structure and operation of the joke and the comic. As for Freud, comic pleasure for Neale is enabled through a shared narcissism with the spectator. But Neale is more explicit about how this narcissism is played out in the operations of the joke and the comic. In deploying
Freud‟s theory of the joke to further his understanding of the ego‟s investment in screen comedy, Neale links play with aggression. For him the joke is a form of attack on the ego in the loss of “the object of desire”.
The comic performer, according to Neale, has an “unstable ego” that feeds the spectator‟s narcissism through the structure of identification. The spectator has their own sense of superiority affirmed in their ego in comic laughter: “the comic affirmation of the power of the ego, … is eroded from within by its simultaneous assumption of the inferiority of the other”.58 The spectator experiences superiority over the comic performer, yet in order for the “superiority of the ego over the other … to be attained, … the ego has to identify with the other first”.59 And these moments of identification are reinforced by the narrative. Identification of the “familiar”, be it a situation or character, and how tension is generated are recurring points of analysis in the screen comic. However, comic identification is different from the oscillation between feelings of attraction and repulsion toward the comic figure, one minute deemed inferior (or as a form of degradation), and the next loved as a result of idealisation.
57 Mick Eaton, „Laughter in the Dark‟, as before, pp. 23-24. 58 Steve Neale, „Psychoanalysis and Comedy‟, as before, p. 35. 59 As before, p. 35.
27 What Eaton and Neale demonstrate in these essays is that screen comedy can be read as the (albeit momentary) disruption of the narrative through performance or gags, or as a disruption of the discourse through language and jokes on the narrative.60
In her monograph Farce, Jessica Milner Davis also examines how comic performance is related to the narrative. Indeed, she classifies types of farce according to their narrative shape demonstrating that farce is related to the shape of the narrative. For her narrative provides the shape on which moments of farce sit, “like beads on a string” and for her farce “succeeds because every farce character is rooted in human reality….” taken to extreme.61 Here we see that it is not only the tension between the character and narrative that enables comic performance, as posited by
Eaton and Neale, but that it is the relationship between the character and narrative which enables comic performance, including farce.
Another significant study of sitcom is David Grote‟s oft quoted text, The end of comedy: the sit-com and the comedic tradition, which argues that the narrative structure of the sitcom renders it conservative. For Grote the sitcom is unlike absurdist or anarchistic comedy because it refuses to allow any change (social or to the
60 In differentiating between the comic and comedy, Neale sees the comic as a structure of observation, jokes as being a structure of address and comedy as a sequence formed by “a narration of jokes and joke-like structures … ”. For Neale “the issue then is the extent to which, and the ways in which, comedy combines aspects of the comic and the joke … [and how] … it involves the two different structures associated with them”. „Psychoanalysis and Comedy‟, as before, p. 34. Neale writes that the comic is a form of hostility and aggression which tends “to oscillate across and between the viewer and the characters, on the one hand, and the characters themselves, on the other” ; whereas the joke is centred on the structure of three (the teller, the hearer, the object) the comic only involves two – “the one who is comic and the one who laughs”, p. 32. Trahair takes issue with Neale‟s conflation of the operation of the joke and the gag. She sees Eaton and Neale as attempting “to resolve the tension between the comic and meaning by posing an implicit confrontation between restricted and general economy.” For Eaton she sees that “the best the comic can do is to transgress familiar meaning to produce new meaning”. She posits that Neale, on the contrary, seems to imply that the joke alone has the capacity to operate within the terms of reference of general economy, but that the restricted economic functions of both the comic and narrative subordinate is transgressive potential: “For Neale and Eaton respectively, both the comic and the joke have to be considered within their narrative and institutional contexts; and such contexts, as outer frames, redefine what lies within them”, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, as before, p. 151. 61 Jessica Milner Davis, Farce (London and New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 2003, first published 1978 by Methuen), p. 5.
28 character). 62 Jane Feuer later argues against this view by demonstrating that Grote equates narrative structure with cultural values.63
Paul Attallah shifts the debate to focus on the operation of genres in his
(ironically titled) essay „The Unworthy Discourse‟ (1984). For him, if genre is defined as a disruption of a discursive equilibrium, then the way the disruption occurs, and the way the equilibrium is re-established, is what defines the genre of the sitcom.64
Hence, “the situation comedy as a genre may then be said to rest upon the encounter of dissonant or incompatible discursive hierarchies”.65 If genre is based on organising principles informed by discourses, then as a clash of discourses and discursive hierarchies the sitcom can be defined from within genre theory. Thus, Attallah labels discourse as the key feature of the sitcom, dismissing other generic indicators, such as the number of sets, the circular shape of the narrative, or types of characters.
Jerry Palmer draws on the work of Cook and Lovell in his text The Logic of the Absurd (1987), exploring the tension between the narrative, comic performance and comic devices. Like Lovell, he is interested in what is at work in realist and anti- realist narratives. The basis for his analysis of comic narrative is the “logic of the absurd”, which is “based on the notion that humour is essentially a process in which various discourses are brought into contact with each other in a particular way”.66 For him, comic narratives are based on the relationship between plausibility and implausibility that occurs when discourses intersect.
62 David Grote, The End of Comedy: The Sit-com and the Comedic Tradition, (Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1983). 63 Jane Feuer, „Genre Study and Television‟ in Channels of Discourse Reassembled. (ed. Robert Allen, Chapel Hill and London: The University of North Carolina Press, second edition 1992). 64 Paul Attallah, „The Unworthy Discourse – Situation Comedy in Television‟ in Critiquing the Sitcom, A Reader, (ed. Joanne Morreale, New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003). 65 As before, p. 105. 66 Jerry Palmer, The Logic of the Absurd: On Film and Television Comedy, (London: BFI Publishing, 1987), p. 152.
29 In Popular Film and Television Comedy, Steve Neale and Frank Krutnik examine how the sitcom operates within genre (1990).67 They extend Eaton‟s 1981 notion of the inside/outside dichotomy and differentiate between the soap opera and the sitcom with reference to the notion that the “character is destiny”.68 Neale and
Krutnik acknowledge that characters in sitcoms cannot face the world alone, and must be part of a group – a figurative “family” – to which they return. At the same time, some sitcom characters refuse to be trapped by destiny, and thus attempt to break the inside/outside dichotomy as posited earlier by Eaton, and transgress to “the other side”. As Neale describes it, the character‟s attempt not to be shaped by destiny is forced through the “circularity” of the narrative back to the “situation”. Neale and
Krutnik also acknowledge that the interplay of relationships is central to this genre.
They argue that such interplays offer “a site of negotiation [of] cultural change and difference”.69 They link this “site” to the “communal bonding between the participants which establishes a relationship of power, of inclusion and exclusion”.70
As mentioned, David Marc takes an overarching and long range view of the development of the sitcom in relation to sociological trends in his text Comic Visions
(1989).71 While Marc recognises the Aristotelian roots of the sitcom, he sees it as a vehicle that reinforces rituals of a familiar status quo. Having reduced the story outline/story grammar of the sitcom to an equation that results in the correction of an error as a “ritual”, Marc never defines what the ritual is; that is what values constitute the ritual within which, and against which, the “error” is made.72 Rather, Marc sees the sitcom as a mechanism for responding to and articulating the hegemony of the
67 Steve Neale and Frank Krutnik, Popular Film and Television Comedy, (London: Routledge, 1990). 68 As before, p. 234. 69 As before, p. 236. 70 As before, p. 234. 71 David Marc, Comic Visions, as before, p. 167. 72 As before, p. 190.
30 time. For him, the sitcom survives “shifts in the style and in the pecking order of moral authority and style”.73 It is the content of the sitcom that responds to, and changes in relation to, the times in which programs were spawned, but not its form, which, he argues, ultimately renders it conservative.
It is useful at this point to return to Paul Attallah and his argument that the sitcom emerges from the discursive clash or struggle centred on nodes of sexuality and class. I would argue that something much more fundamental is at play here.
While it is pertinent to how subjects see the world through prisms of class and sexuality, it has other applications as well. It is not the forensic identification of the prism that I find interesting but rather the fact that there is a prism. This is discursive struggle as such. If discourse is deemed to simply be ideological, which was certainly the most common view of political theorists of the 1970s, then we have no means of understanding discourses that are a-political.74 Seinfeld, self-proclaimed as “a show about nothing”, could be judged as a-political. It appears that the struggle exists at the level of discourse, rather than the ideology that provokes it.
Critiquing the Sitcom (2003) is an anthology that examines sitcoms across six decades of television. Using a variety of frameworks to explore such concerns as gender, race and class, all essays seek to articulate the relationship between ideology and culture. Edited by Joanne Morreale, the essays seek to open up new debates about how we engage with the sitcom. Morreale argues that Seinfeld is not an ideologically based sitcom but a post-modern expression of the form/genre that self-consciously flouted many of its rules and conventions. She offers examples of stylistic devices
73 David Marc, Comic Visions, as before, p. 191. 74 I mean theorists bent on enquiring into political dimensions of cultural rather than political theorists in the usual sense. While such analyses are useful in understanding the contexts in which programs exist or arise, or even their pleasure, what I am suggesting here is that such frameworks are limited in understanding the comic operation or the relationship between character and narrative.
31 such as self-referentiality, intertextuality and parody, citing Mick Eaton (1981) as well as Steve Neale and Frank Krutnik (1990) to demonstrate not only how Seinfeld breaks these conventions but transformed them.75
In her Introduction, Morreale argues that sitcoms allow us to see “... different modes of addressing ideological tensions within culture”. She proposes that, in seeking to find the tension between the dominant discourse and the character/s‟ view or expectation of the world, Seinfeld illustrates that sitcoms can be both progressive and conservative.76 While the author claims that the sitcom has changed in looks and content over the past forty years, she does not determine how it has changed.
In her 2004 article „„Look at Moiye, Kimmie, Look at Moiye!‟: Kath and Kim and the Australian Comedy of Taste‟, Sue Turnbull examines the satirical nature of
Kath & Kim.77 In aiming to understand why we laugh at the characters in this program, Turnbull endorses the view that such depictions are related to the comic as a form of degradation. In an earlier paper (1996), Turnbull argues that the lack of central female characters is directly proportional to the decreasing production levels of Australian sitcoms.78 The central thrust of her argument is that female characters, often the butt of a program, are also the program‟s comic impetus. This study aims to extend Turnbull's elucidation of the comic impetus and locate it independently of gender. I use her analysis of Kath & Kim to examine the nature of our relationship with such characters and, in turn, their relationship to the social.
75 Joanne Morreale, „Sitcoms Say Good-bye: The Cultural Spectacle of Seinfeld‟ in Critiquing the Sitcom, (ed. Joanne Morreale New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003). 76 Joanne Morreale, the Introduction of Critiquing the Sitcom, as before, p. xix. 77 In Media International Australia incorporating Culture and Policy, (113, Nov 2004: 98-108). 78 Sue Turnbull, „A Cunning Array of Stunts: Women, Situation Comedy and Risky Performance on Australian Television‟, 1996, as before.
32 Brett Mills outlines the difficulties of defining the sitcom in his book
Television Sitcom (2007).79 This text is the most thorough reading of the sitcom in the literature, aiming to broaden ways of thinking about the sitcom‟s complexities. Mills argues that Lawrence Mintz‟s 1985 definition of the sitcom as “a half-hour series focused on episodes involving recurrent characters within the same premise” is too broad in its applicability to other genres of programs and does not encompass the evolving nature of the sitcom as either narrative form or genre.80 For Mills the sitcom is defined by generic features such as music cues, shooting styles and character interactions, all of which are reinforced by audience expectations and production processes such as the number of sets and types of characters. For Mills, the sitcom‟s cues and treatment of narrative lie at the heart of the pleasure it generates and is “one of its most obvious defining characteristics”.81 He writes: “Sitcom, then, must forever unite narrative conventions and comedic requirements, displaying the complexity of the former while actually relying on the latter for its affectivity”.82 For him narrative structure both contains and enables the comicality. However his central issue and guiding theme is that comedy is a tool in the struggle for power:
First comedy is used by the powerful to demonstrate their power and thus to maintain social relationships: second, that comedy is used by the powerless to mock the powerful and thus to undermine social relationships.83
For Mills, the sitcom has failed to explore the macro social structures or the
“relationship between the individual and society as a whole”.84 While many sitcoms
79 Brett Mills, Television Sitcom, as before. 80 As before, pp. 26-27. 81 As before, p. 34. See also his chapter „Sitcom and Genre‟ in which he discusses features and their composites such as music, cues and style of performance. 82 As before, p. 35. 83 As before, p. 109. 84 As before, p. 45.
33 do replicate and reinforce a discourse of social conservatism, such as Hey Dad!
(ATN7 1987) and My Family (BBC 2000), previous analyses (such as the BFI Dossier and Critiquing the Sitcom) have convincingly shown that the sitcom can be progressive with messages smuggled beneath seemingly conservative texts.
* * * * *
The overriding theme of the study I undertake here is the nature and operation of power in the comic process, particularly the relationship between the character and the narrative in the sitcom. By recognising that some sitcoms reinforce social hegemonies, this study seeks to expose the dynamics at play to understand how the sitcom can better explore “the relationship between the individual and society”. In so doing I set out to uncover its subversive potential.
34
CHAPTER ONE
The (key) character.
There is thus Narcissism, misrecognition and alienation in the moment of the mirror.
[Robert Stam et al., New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics: Structuralism, Post-Structuralism and Beyond, (London: Routledge, 1992), p. 129.]
Characters constitute much of the pleasure of sitcoms through gags, jokes and comic performance. They are often categorised as “types” such as The Hedonist, The Idiot
Savant, The Operator, or depicted as recognisable stereotypes such as the effeminate male or harradine housewife. Many are descendants of archetypal ancestors, in particular the fool, trickster, rogue and the comic hero.85 Such descriptors explain to some degree a character‟s comicality, but not the character‟s perpetual entrapment, a marked characteristic of the sitcom. This chapter explores the nature of the sitcom character in order to better understand their comicality with the aim of elucidating what instantiates their entrapment.
85 See Scott Sedita, The Eight Characters of Comedy: A Guide to Sitcom Acting and Writing, (Los Angeles: Atides Publishing, 2006) and Evan S. Smith, Writing Television Sitcoms, (New York: Perigee Book, 1999) as well as T.G.A. Nelson, Comedy: The Theory of Comedy in Literature, Drama, and Cinema, (Oxford: Oxford University Press,1990). For discussion on the stereotypes in sitcom see Andy Medhurst and Lucy Tuck‟s paper „The Gender Game‟in Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17 (ed. Jim Cook, London: British Film Institute, 1982: 43-55), as well as Brett Mills, Television Sitcom, (London: BFI Publishing, 2005).
35 I begin with the premise that the comic character is what Bergson defines as an unconscious victim; it is the disjunction between how the character sees themself and the reality within which they exist that generates their comicality. In the clash with that reality they suffer comic degradation.86 To that end I set out to understand the nature of the comic character‟s unconscious. In doing so, I observe the characters from Pizza (SBSTV 2005), Kath & Kim (ABCTV 2003) and Fawlty Towers (BBC
1975).87 I argue that the comic character is determined by some degree of arrested narcissism that precipitates an identity at odds with the world within which they exist.
The term narcissism derives from the Greek myth of Narcissus that was translated by the Roman writer Ovid in 8 AD.88 Narcissus is the hunter-youth in love with his mirror-image. His self-love is enabled by his mother and reinforced by the disembodied nymph Echo. In relation to this myth I explore whether the comic character is a derivative of either Narcissus or the little mentioned Echo, and conclude that some characters harbour psychic constructs of both.
Narcissism is central to psychoanalysis and psychoanalytic thinking. As part of ego maturation, narcissism structures identity and the way the subject engages with the external world. It exists along a continuum and is a difficult and complex psychological notion that cannot be dismissed as simply the basis for bad or delusional behaviour.
86 For specific discussion on comic performance in the sitcom see articles by Jim Cook, „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟ in Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17 (ed. Jim Cook), as before; Sue Turnbull, „A Cunning Array of Stunts: Women, Situation Comedy and Risky Performance on Australian Television‟, Continuum: The Australian Journal of Media and Culture, (volume 10 Number 2, 1996: 11-25) and „„Look at Moiye, Kimmie, Look at Moiye!‟: Kath and Kim and the Australian Comedy of Taste‟, Media International Australia incorporating Culture and Policy, (113, Nov 2004: 98-108). 87 See Programography for further details of the episodes of Pizza and Kath & Kim. 88 Ovid 43BC-17AD. My reading of the myth comes from two translations of Ovid: M. Innes (trans.) The Metamorphoses of Ovid, (London: Penguin, 1955) and Metamorphoses, (Translated A.D. Melville. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1986) as well as the Graves translation of the Greek myth, The Greek Myths, (New York: Penguin, 1981).
36 Freudian psychoanalytic theory assists in understanding the pathological traits of narcissistic behaviour in normative and non-normative contexts. By examining such traits – or extremes of the continuum of what is normal – this chapter locates the psychological disorder the comic character seems to manifest, and thus nuances what instantiates the character‟s view of themselves and the world around them. In examining narcissism I seek to understand the dynamics of the character‟s behaviour rather than determine why the character has those characteristics. Post-Freudian psychoanalytic theory further assists by articulating how identity is constructed, and how such construction contributes to certain behaviours.
Jacques Lacan sees ego formation as beginning in the moment of the “mirror stage”.89 For Lacan three psychic registers operate in the development of identity: the
Imaginary being the site of primary identification (the mirror stage), the Symbolic as the register of the social, and the Real, located beyond the Symbolic, the site of anxiety and trauma. He further suggests that a fourth law, the „law of desire‟, is betrayed through the adoption of the socio-symbolic. The desire to be recognised in the Symbolic can be seen to generate anxiety in the Real. This chapter is concerned with the comic character‟s psychic construction borne of the Imaginary, and the conflict or tension they experience with the Symbolic. I offer that this tension generates their comicality as well as institutes entrapment for some characters. John
Reddick‟s translation of Freud‟s 1914 paper „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟, along with Lacan‟s schema of psychical and ego maturation provide a theoretical framework for this undertaking.90
89 Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis, (London: Karnac Books, 2006), p. 256. 90 I use the John Reddick translation: „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟ (1914) in Beyond the Pleasure Principle and Other Writings, (London: Penguin Classics, 2003: 1-30). Although slightly
37 Patricia Mellencamp‟s reading of the 1950s sitcom I Love Lucy enables further exploration of the character‟s unconscious entrapment within what she describes as a discursive “containment”. For Mellencamp containment is the restriction on a subject by a discourse; in this case, the disjunction between Lucy‟s views of herself, her desires and how she is viewed through social discourses.
I then return to the myth to examine the relationship between Narcissus and
Echo. This provides a prototype for the dynamic operating between Kim and Sharon in Kath & Kim. By mobilising the concept of „echoing‟, I aim to understand how characters are dependant on an „other‟, as subject, for their sense of self and identity, as well as defining themselves through an „Other‟ in the Symbolic.91 I propose that characters, like Lucy, Basil from Fawlty Towers and Kim are trapped in a struggle for a narcissistic identity while simultaneously caught in an "echoistic" entrapment of which they are unaware.92 In the next chapter I demonstrate that sitcom relationships are about a struggle for power, but in this chapter I show that key characters have psychic characteristics of both Narcissus and Echo. I demonstrate that this psychic tension and the ongoing struggle that ensues from it are part and parcel of the key character‟s comicality, making them the “comic engine” of a series.
different to the more commonly used title by Strachey, „On Narcissism: An Introduction‟, Reddick argues that his title is closer to Freud‟s focus of the paper. 91 Dylan Evans clarifies the Lacanian view of „Other‟, which I use later in the chapter: “the little „other‟ is the reflection and projection of ego and is entirely inscribed in the imaginary order, whereas the “Big Other designates radical alterity ... because it cannot be assimilated through identification.” The big Other is inscribed in the symbolic. Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, (London and New York: Routledge, 1996), p. 133. 92 As psychoanalysis seeks to articulate the psychic operation that myths such as Narcissus depicts, it is surprising to find little discussion centered on Echo. The closest I can find is Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) or borderline personality organization.
38 I – Narcissism and the comic character.
Narcissism was first used to describe a psychological disorder by a contemporary of
Freud, Paul Nacke, in 1899. He defined it as a “form of behaviour whereby an individual treats their own body in the same way as any other sexual object, … until
… he achieves full gratification”.93 Narcissism was initially defined as a state of
„oneness‟ with the world, where boundaries between the subject and the external world and its „objects‟, including the mother, are blurred.94
As a term in every day usage, narcissism is often used to describe the shallowness and self-absorption of modern individuals whose characteristics tend toward pathological or extreme modes of behaviour.95 A common view of a narcissist is someone who is self-centred, in love with themselves, grandiose and full of hubris, driven to achieve at all costs, as well as arrogant, selfish, delusional and verbose, with an incapacity to love others. However, narcissistic traits and their extremities are further defined by social codes of behaviour and expectations.
93 Sigmund Freud, „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟ (1914) translated by John Reddick in Beyond the Pleasure Principle and Other Writings, as before, p. 3. 94 It is on this point that debate is commonly centred: What determines its pathological state? Object relations theory, discussed later in the chapter, focuses on how the subject develops through its “attachment” (or not) to objects rather than libidinal drives, the damning up of which Freud believed lay at the heart of narcissistic behaviour. See Otto Kernberg, „Factors in the Psychoanalytic Treatment of Narcissistic Personalities‟, Essential Papers on Narcissism, (New York: New York University Press, 1986: 213-244). 95 American Psychiatric Association. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (4th ed.). (Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Association, 1994), p659-661: traits used to diagnose narcissistic personality disorder include: “a grandiose sense of self importance, often appearing boastful and pretentious, preoccupations with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty or ideal love, a sense of superiority or specialness, requiring excessive admiration, a sense of entitlement, exploitation of others and manipulation to serve their own needs and ends, lacking in empathy, often envious of others with arrogant, haughty behaviours and attitudes… when these traits are numerous and inflexible, maladaptive, and persisting, causing significant functional impairment or subjective distress do they constitute a Narcissistic Personality Disorder”. The DSM also makes the point that “many highly successful individuals display personality traits that might be considered narcissistic”.
39 In his 1914 paper Freud seeks to better understand narcissistic behaviour, both pathologically and normatively.96 For Freud, narcissism forms on the ego as a pattern of behaviour in childhood. What constitutes the ego and its development is the central concern for theories of narcissism both within psychoanalysis and in analytical psychology. Most theories focus on the construction of the self and/or the ego, the relationship between the ego and the libido, and how the ego attaches itself to
„objects‟ in order to exist and develop in the external world.97
For Freud, the object is that through which the drive attains its aim.98 Primary narcissism is seen as an early state “in which the child cathects its own self with the whole of its libido” before choosing external objects; it is unconscious and centred on, what Freud terms, the pleasure principle that underscores the primary instincts which seek to be satisfied.99 The ego begins to form in response to identification with the primary caregiver – the „other‟ as subject. This stage signals the development of the ego-ideal, an idealisation of how the subject sees itself or is seen by others. The individual has an idealised view of themselves and how the world works in order to have its needs gratified.
Using the term “his majesty the baby”, Freud suggests that the indulgence of the individual and its infantile view of the world arrests psychical development. He
96 For Freud, narcissism was seen as a state between auto-eroticism and object-love, with the ego being born as it separates from its primary narcissism. The existence and role of the libido is central to Freud‟s early views of narcissism, but is also the point of contention for many theorists. Freud sees the libido as something to be “controlled”, because the dammed up libidinal energy that develops in the failure of satisfaction needs to be cathected elsewhere. This sees the ego at the service of the libido and instincts. Theorists such as Otto Rank argue that the subject has a will, enabling choice to determine the direction of the libido and its cathexis. See Otto Rank, Truth and Reality (A. Knopf Inc., New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1978). Neville Symington has a similar view in that the ego “chooses” to turn away from the lifegiver. Narcissism: A New Theory, (London: Karnac Books, 1993). 97 In considering the place taken by narcissism in sexual development, Freud determines the relation between the ego and external objects, thus defining a new distinction between ego libido and object libido. Further he articulates the see-saw effect between the two libidos. He also introduces the concepts of ego-ideal and a self observing agency; this becomes the super-ego. 98 Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 123. 99 Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis, (London: Karnac Books, 2006), p. 337.
40 argues that humans are “incapable of forgoing gratification once they have enjoyed it”, and the narcissistic perfection of their childhood which they are unable to retain, is retrieved through idealisation and ego-ideals.100
Freud later demonstrates that as the subject grows, the capacities of its mental functioning also develop.101 Primary or early stage narcissism is determined by the drives of the pleasure principle and its primary processes such as “wish-fulfilling fantasies and the need for immediate instinctual discharge irrespective of its appropriateness”.102 But as the individual matures, the ego develops in response to the external world and its reality, utilising secondary processes such as determination, focus, cohesion and intelligibility to achieve their goals. This engages the mental function of the reality principle. But if the maturation process has been thwarted, the ego retreats and narcissistic traits take hold. In response ego-ideals are then created as a means of defence. The ego‟s behaviour becomes captured by its primary processes; the individual now uses secondary processes to achieve the ego-ideal.
Freud surmises that ego defences are created as a way of retaining those early experiences. He argues that indulging the child feeds feelings of omnipotence and grandiosity, which the individual not only seeks to maintain, but refuses to surrender.103 But psychoanalytic theorists such as D.W. Winnicott suggest that it is a lack of omnipotence (in the early years) that compels the ego to perpetually seek out experiences to fulfil that need.104 He argues that it is out of an experience of some
100 Freud, „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟, as before, p. 20-22. 101 Freud, „Formulations on the Two Principles of Mental Functioning‟, The Freud Reader, (ed. Peter Gay, London: Vintage, 1995: 301-308). 102 Eda Goldstein, Ego Psychology and Social Work Practice, (Second Edition. New York: The Free Press, 1995), pp. 62-63. 103 Dylan Evans writes that as the child begins to master more of its bodily functions, the initial feelings of omnipotence revert to a depressive state in the awareness of the omnipotence of the mother. An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 116. 104 D. W. Winnicott, Home is Where We Start From, (New York and London: W.W. Norton & Co., 1986) see in particular pages 30, 92 and 229.
41 degree of omnipotence that the subject develops a sense of self. Regardless, if ego- ideals are shaped by desire or lack, they are created in response to early relationships that frustrate or indulge the drives.105 For Otto Kernberg, narcissism is not just about omnipotence, grandiosity and hubris, but rather it is behaviour resulting from a disturbance in ego structure resulting from disturbed “object-relations”.106 For
Melanie Klein “object-relations are contracted from the beginning [and thus] it is only legitimate to evoke narcissistic „states‟ characterised by a turning of libido onto internalised objects”.107 For both Klein and Kernberg it is the consequence of the development of pathological differentiation and integration of ego structures deriving from pathological object relationships.108
The central issue then becomes both the type of relationship through which the ego develops and, then, the subject‟s ability in turning back to the object. There is some debate as to whether this ability to turn back to the object is part of the development of the ego or is a response to an early trauma that, if it takes hold, then develops into pathological and narcissistic traits.109 Whatever the case, it is clear that the ego‟s development occurs through a narcissistic identification and is determined
105 For Freud, when the libido is not satisfied through normal maturation processes, it is channelled to both the love-object and the ego, and secondary narcissism takes hold. Secondary narcissism “denotes a turning round upon the ego of libido withdrawn from the objects which it has cathected hitherto”, Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 337-8. Secondary narcissism thus occurs when the libido is withdrawn from external objects and reverts back to the ego. Freud‟s view highlights the existence of instincts and furthermore their intentionality ex situ the ego. This view is based on the topography of the psyche as being constituted by conscious, preconscious and unconscious aspects. Freud later developed a structural topography of the psyche, where he envisaged the ego as an organising structure between the super-ego, informed by the external world, and the id and its instincts, each having unconscious aspects. 106 Otto Kernberg sees in both narcissistic and borderline personalities a tendency toward primary process thinking. Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, (Oxford and Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2004), p. 24. 107 Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 338. 108 Otto Kernberg, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before, p. 271. 109 Neville Symington posits that narcissistic traits take hold when the ego retreats from the „lifegiver‟. He argues that such an action results at its extreme in autism. For him the individual can make the choice to turn back towards the lifegiver and thus the narcissistic trait/s reversed, at the least the intensity of the pull is reduced. Narcissism. A New Theory. (London: Karnac Books, 1993). While arrested ego maturation is easily understood as well as the notion of retreating from the lifegiver, what determines the pull and its intensity is not clear. Freud would argue it is libidinal.
42 by the drives. When that relationship is affected (such as having the drives frustrated or through the lack of attention or love) pathological traits, to varying degrees, take hold.110 Furthermore, if the ego-ideal has been created as a narcissistic defence then the external world is viewed from an infantile perspective and desires.
Despite the differing views of how pathologies take hold, there is general agreement from many theorists, including Freud, that an unresolved Oedipus complex lies at the heart of a number of narcissistic disorders. The core of this complex stems from repressed conflictual relationships experienced by the subject with the love- object.
As the ego emerges from the state of primary or infantile narcissism it experiences a number of stages. The key one is the Oedipus complex, which occurs around three to five years of age. It is generally considered that the resolution of the complex is also achieved at this time, although some theorists suggest it may occur as late as ten years of age.111 The Oedipus complex is centred on the desires and hostility the child has towards the parent/s which when repressed are then played out in other relationships. Behaviour is borne out of a frustration of a primary narcissistic striving for satisfaction from the primary care-giver. In an attempt to protect the ego from rejection it represses the pain. An unresolved Oedipus complex traps the subject in
110 For Kernberg narcissistic character structure develops as a defence in response to a lack of love, acceptance and nurturing by the mother. He differentiates between narcissistic character structures and narcissistic personality disorders. For him the major characteristics of the emotional life of narcissistic personalities are characterised by intense envy resulting in devaluation, omnipotent control and narcissistic withdrawal, despite effective social adaptation. These are created as defences against fear and guilt over multiple conflicts developed in early relationships. „Factors in the Psychoanalytic Treatment of Narcissistic Personalities‟, as before, p. 246. It is the effective social adaptation and omnipotent control that points to the comic character as being primarily narcissistic, rather than having a borderline personality organisation. This chapter attempts to clarify the nature and root of the omnipotence. I view the character as being driven by actions that feed a need for power in response to a lack of power and the comic character in particular has being undone by their source of power. 111 Again there is some debate as to when the Oedipus complex is resolved. Some theories see its resolution occurring earlier than three years of age, while others see it as occurring later, and more closely tied to the development of the super-ego, around seven to ten years.
43 repressed feelings of anger or love toward an object (initially the parent/s) which is unconscious and therefore unknowable. The repression precipitates the complex.112
Depending on the degree of the repression and during which phase it occurs, the individual generates an idealised view of themselves and the world around them as a form of defence from those repressed conflicts and at the extreme end retreats into phantasy.113 This is the development of the ego-ideal as a form of defence.
The pre-oedipal period of childhood itself has phases or stages such as oral, anal and phallic, with certain behaviours deriving from traumas occurring during those phases.114 The pre-oedipal period is a dyadic relation with the mother or primary caregiver; the oedipal moment occurs when the two-way relationship expands into a three-sided relationship to include the father.115 The Oedipus complex (and its resolution) thus signals the transition from the child‟s exclusive relation with the mother to its assimilation within the larger society vis-à-vis a relationship with the father. Its resolution enables the passage from the familial order to society at large and
“signals the transition from the pleasure principle to the reality principle”.116 Lacan similarly defines the resolution of this complex as “the passage from the Imaginary order to the Symbolic order”.117
112 For Freud this is the result of dammed up libidinal energy. 113 Laplanche and Pontalis write that phantasies are imaginary scenes “in the subject is a protagonist, representing the fulfillment of a wish … (an unconscious wish) in a manner that is distorted to a greater or lesser extent by defensive processes”. The Language of Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 314. 114 As noted, for Kernberg, narcissistic personality disorders arise from disturbances in „object‟ relations at various stages of development. A key trait such as grandiosity emerges from oral projection as a result of disturbance at that stage of maturation. „Factors in the Psychoanalytic Treatment of Narcissistic Personalities‟, as before. He writes in Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism: “… narcissism does not represent simply a turning away from external objects, but the activation of primitive object relationships in which they re-enact a primitive fusion of idealized self and object images, defensively used against the “bad” self and object images, and the “bad” external objects”, as before, p. 38. Narcissism projects early conflicts as a mechanism to maintain ego splitting of the good and bad objects. 115 Robert Stam et al., New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics, as before, pp. 130-131. 116 As before, p.131. 117 Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 127. The symbolic order is the integration into culture. It is through the oedipal identification with the father that
44 As noted in the Introduction to this thesis, Andrew Horton classifies different types of comic characters in relation to oedipal phases.118 For Horton, characters who populate New Comedy articulate an oedipal resolution, having transgressed from the dual, nature-based, pre-oedipal phase to the symbolic and cultural phase of the post- oedipal stage.119 Characters who populate Old Comedy by contrast are anarchistic and reflect the (repressed) aggression of the pre-oedipal phase of duality. Such characters are not only narcissistic and aggressive, in not having completed the passage to the
Symbolic order, they seek to attack it. Pauly from Pizza is an example of an anarchistic character.
Pizza is centred on the lives of a group of ethnic pizza delivery drivers who work for the management-challenged and abusive Bobo, himself the target of abuse by his heavy-jewelled and made-up “Mama”. In the episode titled „Small and Large
Pizza‟ (4:3), Pauly has his beloved Valiant confiscated and sent to the scrap heap as a result of a number of driving offences.120 The magistrate booms down from the bench:
“Furthermore due to a technicality in the law that prevents me from cancelling your licence, I am restricting your engine capacity to 50cc” (the capacity of a lawnmower).
By a stroke of “luck” (or coincidence) Pauly wins a radio competition and so is able to pay the fine and buy a small car. He celebrates his victory accordingly, standing at the judicial bench he cheekily declares: “Sucked in to you judge, sucked in”.
the super-ego is formed, but this occurs through a number of stages or “times” of the complex. Thus the “Law of the Father” becomes the Symbolic law for the subject. 118 Robert Blumenfeld marries unresolved oedipal issues at various stages of maturation with types of characters, particularly comic characters such as Harpagon, but this takes us down the path of labelling characters, rather than understanding their dynamics. In Tools and Techniques for Character Interpretation: A Handbook of Psychology for Actors, Writers and Directors (New Jersey: Limelight Editions, 2006), p. 106. 119 Andrew Horton, Writing the Character-Centered Screenplay, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp. 42-3. 120 Transmitted June 13, 2005, SBS. See Programography for program details.
45 Freud writes that the narcissist aims to “keep at bay anything tending to diminish their ego”.121 In listing birds of prey, even criminals and comic heroes as examples of the unassailable ego, Freud argues that it is the narcissistic ego that assists in both the achievement of the ego‟s desires and the protection of the ego. The comic character is „narcissistic‟ to the extent that he or she has an unassailable ego structured by the ego‟s desire for gratification that has not been satisfied.
It is important at this point to explain the behavioural ramifications of the unassailable ego so we can fully grasp how the comedies that I am attempting to theorise here play out as narcissistic personality disorders in identifiably symptomatic ways. In doing this, I will refer to Freud‟s distinction between the ego-ideal and the ideal ego, to the roles of the primary and secondary process and to the operation of desire. Freud assists us to observe how the character‟s ego-ideal drives them to achieve their goals. Furthermore, desire is defined as the ego‟s need for gratification, driven by instinctual demands as well as the need to be recognised by a significant
„other‟.
Pauly tells his mates in the next scene: “That judge, he tried to stooge me, so I stooged him back”; and proceeds to demonstrate how he has modified the car in order to maintain his identity as a “hoon”. Amongst his many modifications, Pauly has camouflaged a can of “sik nitrus” to boost engine capacity and moved the now enlarged engine to the boot in order to accommodate the subwoofers under the bonnet. This character is skilled at altering the small car to meet his needs. His identity is enabled through the object of the car, which reaffirms his status as a hoon and later demonstrates its power as a chick magnet. Pauly sees life as a game to be mastered and rejects anything that thwarts his desire. This comic character exhibits a
121 Freud, „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟, as before, p. 18.
46 focussed, self-centred view of the world, coupled with a sense of entitlement, denying certain realities in order to maintain his (primary) ego desires.
Pauly‟s skill in altering the small car demonstrates how secondary processes are put to the service of an ego-ideal shaped by the pleasure principle. The secondary processes that enable skill serve the ego and its desire, rather than the development of the ego-ideal. Secondary processes which feed the ego are at the service of the drives, rather than manage the drives towards a goal. Pauly‟s need is to drive and have a fast car in order to serve his desire to maintain his ego-ideal. This desire overrides the law.
Pauly not only denies obstacles that prevent him achieving his goal, he attacks them.
Freud calls what I refer to above, narcissistic egos, „ego-ideals‟, and argues that such idealisations are set up in the face of criticism from parents and society and are shaped by fear.122 In terms of psychical aetiology the ego-ideal comes into being as a result of a transference of the self-love of primary narcissism from an emergent real ego onto a created ego. Thus ego-ideals result “from the coming together of narcissism (idealisation of the ego) and identification with the parents, with their substitutes or with collective ideals”.123 The subject aspires to a model based on the need to be accepted by parents, teachers and society. This ego-ideal is then projected onto the future as a surrogate for that which was lost (or not received) in childhood.124
While the establishment of ego-ideals is driven by innate desire and drives,
Freud also notes that ego-ideals can be critical and judgmental of the subject, in which case they prevent the subject from fulfilling such desire. Indeed, for Freud idealisation
122 As noted, for Freud when the subject‟s desire is thwarted it becomes repressed libidinal energy and seeks to be cathected. The energy is either cathected to objects or back to the self, seeking to be released or symbiotically recreated to achieve satisfaction. This energy is based on the fear of loss of love or acceptance by parental figures, generating social fear. But the connection between narcissistic desire, fear and behaviour is not explored. 123 Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis, as before, p.144. 124 For Freud the libido then goes onto the ego-ideal and gratification occurs through the fulfillment of that ideal, rather than the libido instincts and impulses.
47 and prohibition are bound together in one. He thus connects the ego-ideal with the ideal ego. The ideal ego is a collective ideal (of parents, family, teachers, class and nation) to which the subject aspires along with its own ego-ideal complete with is critical and judgemental faculty.125 This combination explains Freud‟s original oscillation between the ego-ideal as something to aspire to and as someone who is critical and judgemental. In defining the ego-ideal Freud argues that libidinal instinctual impulses undergo repression if they are in conflict with cultural and ethical ideas; ideas that would originate in the family and reinforced by the wider society. It also suggests the shifting influences in ego development. In Freud‟s second topography of the psyche this agency becomes the critical super-ego.126
Differentiating the ego-ideal from the super-ego, he writes:
Whereas the ego submits to the super-ego out of fear of punishment, it submits to the ego-ideal out of love … – and as regards their respective origins: the ego-ideal is said to be formed principally on the model of loved objects, while the super-ego is formed on that of dreaded figures.127
Thus ego-ideals are shaped by both desire and fear, as a means of securing love and acceptance by significant others and the wider society. They can be both a defence of the ego‟s narcissism as well as a goal. The significance of Freud‟s 1914 paper is that it theorises how the identity of the individual is driven by instinctual demands that are then shaped by, and reflected back, through the environment in which they exist and develop. When the ego-ideal is borne of a narcissistic defence of the ego, then, as we have seen, the subject matures utilising secondary processes to
125 Freud, „On the Introduction of Narcissism‟, as before, p.30. 126 The first topography of the psyche was seen as having conscious, unconscious and preconscious system and articulates the operation of the comic (as emanating from the preconscious) and jokes (as emanating from the unconscious). In the second topography the psyche is seen as comprising the ego, id and super-ego with the role of the ego attempting to broker a deal between the demands of the id and super-ego. This structural theory, the basis of ego psychology, attempts to explain psychical processes and the relationship between the conscious and unconscious mind and the external world. 127 Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis, The Language of Psychoanalysis as before, p. 145.
48 achieve their goals. In such cases then, narcissism, rather than enabling identity, becomes the basis for an identity.
For Robert D. Stolorow, narcissism is a function that enables the subject to maintain a sense of self through object-relations: “[t]he object performs basic functions in the realm of self-esteem regulation that the individual‟s own psyche is unable to provide”. He also proposes that “a narcissistic object relationship … is to maintain the cohesiveness, stability and positive affective colouring of the self representation”. 128 In other words narcissistic behaviour kicks in when the subject‟s sense of self or self-esteem is depleted or under threat. Like a thermostat that regulates room temperature, narcissism is, for Stolorow, a function to regulate self- esteem. Rather than seeing narcissism as a process that forms identity, Stolorow sees narcissism as a function that enables identity. For Pauly the car becomes the object through which he is able to maintain his identity and self-esteem. It maintains his narcissistic identity and when threatened with its loss, Pauly laughs tendentiously at the law. His need to maintain his identity determines his actions. Thus narcissism can be understood as a defence by the ego to maintain stability, a tool through which the individual attempts to restore or maintain a sense of cohesiveness and identity, enabled by objects.
In the Introduction I discussed the work of Steve Seidman and Lisa Trahair.
Seidman sees the comic figure as driven by a desire for mastery in order that s/he can form or maintain an identity in a world with which they are largely at odds. While
Trahair demonstrates that comic operation is enabled through the tension between the character‟s arrested maturation, their resultant infantile or regressive tendencies, and
128 Robert Stolorow, „Towards a Functional Definition of Narcissism‟, Essential Papers on Narcissism, (New York: New York University Press, 1986), p. 201. If the subject‟s narcissism is object dependent then any change that results in the loss of the object (such as a marriage or job), including either parent would trigger a regression in behaviour.
49 the “reality” brought to bear on their desires through the narrative. Trahair notes that
“the comic is nothing other than the operations of primary process that have managed to force their way through to consciousness … ”. For her, “[t]he pleasure principle is still operative in the secondary process, but it has been modified to the extent that it takes into account the development of the psyche and the existence of the external world”.129 The comic figure is either reluctant or unable to incorporate the reality principle in an appropriate way. There are numerous characters in the sitcom that demonstrate infantile or regressive behaviour. The question that concerns me at this point is, in what way does the pursuit of a narcissistic idealisation by the character in the sitcom provoke their degradation, week after week?
II – The comic character‟s struggle within a “containment”.
Week after week, the show keeps Lucy happily in her confined domestic, sitcom place after a twenty-three-minute tour-de-force struggle to escape.
[Patricia Mellencamp. „Situation Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟, Critiquing the Sitcom, (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003), p. 51.]
In „Situation Comedy, Feminism and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟, Patricia
Mellencamp initially interprets the comic performances of Lucille Ball in I Love Lucy and Gracie Allen in The Burns and Allen Show, both popular sitcoms of the late
1950s, through feminist theory, only to find that the comic refuses to be comprehended through modern critical models.
129 Lisa Trahair, The Comedy of Philosophy. Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2007), pp. 176-177.
50 According to Mellencamp, the “containment” policies of post-war America sent women back home, resulting, she argues, in them being treated like, and subsequently behaving like, dependent children. Whilst unable to figure out how characters such as Lucy should be read within a feminist framework, Mellencamp argues such policies made women feel powerless. She illustrates that Lucy personified such feelings through the disjunction between her desire to be part of husband Ricky‟s band or enter the workforce, and her failure to do so. While she might be blind to the broader social and economic reality in which she exists – the hegemonic discourses of the time that sought to encourage dependency and domesticity – Lucy still strives to achieve her idealisation.130 In remaining blind to her lack of ability one can only assume that Lucy‟s narcissism is bound to her lack of awareness of the political realities that were impacting on her, and women in general, at the time. Her ego-ideal may be shaped by desire, but it may also be a narcissistic defence in response to a discourse that seeks to contain and manipulate her. This appears to be what
Mellencamp sought to expose.
In having concluded that the comic cannot be read through ideological frameworks, Mellencamp then reads Lucy and Gracie through Freud‟s theory of the comic. She successfully explores Lucy‟s mastery of comic movement and Gracie‟s mastery of linguistic abuse. Furthermore, Mellencamp studies the relationship between Lucy and Gracie and their respective husbands to demonstrate that both women disavow their husband‟s assumed and real power. In doing so Mellencamp contends that Lucy, through the permissibility of racism, laughs at Ricky (a Cuban),
130 Mellencamp‟s reading raises the question: does comic performance serve an ideological purpose of hiding the real (social) agenda? Does comic performance serve to obfuscate the real meaning of the show (that women outside the domestic setting appear as buffoons) thus blinding the audience? Such a query is beyond the scope of this study but worth consideration for future study on spectatorship in the sitcom. It is worth noting that Lucy still runs today, saying something about how women may still feel.
51 making him the clown to her “straight-man”. But Grace‟s husband, George Burns, is a patriarchal smooth-talking, wisecracking, white American husband, affording her no opportunity to laugh at him. For Mellencamp, Gracie simply ignores the patriarchal attitudes and positioning of her husband to triumph over him through the use of absurd logic and nonsensical language. While Mellencamp sees both women as victims of the narrative, she notes that both are also responding to some form of entrapment, either by their husbands, or more pointedly by implicit hegemonic discourses that their husbands articulate or represent, reinforced by discourses such as the “happy housewife”. Mellencamp argues that these characters attempt to achieve in a world that seeks to contain them; in response to feelings of powerlessness, both comic performance and the degradation that underlies their entrapment is enabled.
In recognising that the comic character is “contained” I now suggest that the character‟s comicality is determined by both narcissistic desire and/or defence in the face of an unknown „Other‟, inscribed by the Lacanian order of the Symbolic in the social. For Lucy it is the discourses of the time that attempt to manipulate her and for
Gracie it is patriarchal power that enables George to have authority over her. In further elucidating comic performance, like Eaton and Neale, Mellencamp examines the humorous pleasure that sitcom characters deliver to the spectator.131
To better understand such tension and the “complexity of shifting identifications” afforded the spectator, Mellencamp turns to Freud‟s work on humour.132 By following in her steps, I lay the ground to determine how the comic character responds, or rather does not, in their moment of degradation. This enables a reading of the comic character as determined by their relationship with a frame that is
131 Mick Eaton, „Laughter in the Dark‟ pp. 21-5 and Steve Neale, „Psychoanalysis and Comedy‟, pp. 29-43, both in Screen (22.2 (1981)). 132 Mellencamp, „Situation Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟, as before, p. 54.
52 unknown to them, and may or may not be known to the spectator. I argue in Chapter
Three that it is the character‟s relationship with a discursive frame (and their powerlessness in the face of that frame) that produces comic performance, but for now note that Mellencamp enables a reading of the characters as being contained by a discourse (an „Other‟), resulting in tension that enables comicality.
Freud surmised that when the pleasure principle comes into contact with a reality with which it does not want (or is unable) to engage, the ego becomes intimidated and feels powerless. At this point, the super-ego steps in to “reframe” reality, and in so doing helps the ego disconnect from, and even laugh at, the situation. The super-ego offers some defence for the ego, enabling the experience of mastery and control over the external environment. But Freud argues that rather than enabling engagement with reality, the super-ego creates an illusion of reality for the ego, just as the parent does for the child when s/he is affected by some trauma. It is the super-ego that assists the ego in dealing with the trauma by telling it from its own
(higher) perspective that the world can be viewed as nothing but a game, and reality can thus be repudiated. For Freud, a sense of humour enables “the rejection of the claims of reality … [and] signifies not only the triumph of the ego but also of the pleasure principle, which is able here to assert itself against the unkindness of the real circumstances”. 133 As such, humour represents the triumph of the ego‟s narcissism.
The ego is not only spared any wounding, it is further relieved of facing an unpalatable reality. For Freud, the desire to evade suffering places humour in a
133 Sigmund Freud, „Humour‟ (1927) in James Strachey (ed.), The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud no. XXI, ( London: Hogarth Press, 1964), p.163. Freud‟s theory helps explain why and how we manage to separate ourselves from such humility, but as Eaton notes in Screen, it is difficult to compare the operation of the comic and humour as posited by Freud because each is based on different topographies of the psyche. It is the second topography that enables Freud to articulate his thinking about humour, where the super-ego, initially seen as a critical and demanding agency, is now seen to “protect” the ego, helping the ego to see the world as a “game”. Both topographies give insight into the operation of the psyche: the comic (borne of the preconscious), the joke (borne of the unconscious) and humour (being the result of the super-ego).
53 dignified position, as opposed to jokes, which “serve simply to obtain a yield of pleasure or place the yield of pleasure that has been obtained in the service of aggression”.134 Thus in using humour, comedy enables the spectator to view the reality presented as a “game” and in the process laugh at that reality.
Mellencamp reads Lucy through Freud‟s theory of humour to elucidate that the moment of comic degradation is the triumph of an egoistic narcissism that emerges in response to situations that the ego finds “difficult” or traumatic. She argues that, at the point of Lucy‟s degradation, the spectator is released from the pain of humility of the character and humorous pleasure is therefore enabled for the spectator. But if the character engaged the agency of the super-ego, they would avoid degradation and laugh at the situation. Yet in most cases they do not, and if they do, their laughter is short-lived. In all cases they are a victim who denies the pain of the situation, just as they deny the reality. For Mellencamp, Lucy performs comically in relation to the situation and humorously in opposition to feelings of powerlessness. In doing so she claims that it is the character‟s ability to deny the reality of her victimisation that enables comic performance. She proposes that this offers a more complex way of viewing the audience‟s relation to „the comic‟ than is available in Freud‟s study of the joke. If I have a quibble with Mellencamp it is that while she insists that it is the character‟s response to their containment that enables the comicality, she does not ask why the character becomes comic. We have seen that the comic, generated by the pleasure principle, puts secondary processes to the service of their desires. As such they have no, or at the least, a restricted functioning super-ego. 135 If the character has no super-ego, I now ask, how do they function?
134 Sigmund Freud, „Humour‟, as before, p. 163. 135 In an earlier footnote I mention that borderline personality conditions may be the psychoanalytic analysis of echoism. One differential between the borderline personality from the narcissistic
54 It is useful now to look at post-Freudian analysis to better understand the comic character‟s psychical construction and their relationship to the social. I turn now to the work of Lacan, whose work follows on from Freud‟s, but which distinguishes between the different registers in the psyche and their contribution to the constitution of identity.
In determining ego maturation in relation to the acquisition of language, Lacan saw the first rough cast of the ego to emerge in what he terms “the mirror phase”. This cast is the „small other‟, an idealised mirror-image of the ego: “that point at which he desires to gratify himself in himself”.136 The mirror stage is a further allegorisation of the myth of Narcissus and, as mentioned, is the first of the three orders that structure the psyche: the Imaginary, the Symbolic and the Real. For Lacan the Imaginary shapes the ideal ego and the Symbolic, which operates in the social, shapes the Ego-
Ideal. The ideal ego is formed through an identification with the small „other‟, while the Ego-Ideal is formed in response to the „big Other‟: “[t]he point of the ego ideal is that from which the subject will see himself, as one says … as others see him … ”.137
It is the agency whose gaze the subject tries to impress with their ego image, that impels the subject to achieve its goals and idealisations (hence its capital letters).
What Lacan offers psychoanalysis is not only a clearer differentiation between the ideal ego and the Ego-Ideal and their determinants, but also their roles in the development of the subject. As noted, in his paper on Narcissism, Freud uses ideal ego and ego-ideal interchangeably; in his second topography of the psyche, the ego-
personality is the absence of an integrated super-ego. Kernberg writes that it is the lack of integration of “good” and “bad” objects within the ego that then prevents the development of an integrated super- ego, and enables realistic goal-setting. Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before, pp. 35-36. Kernberg asserts that both borderline and narcissistic character structures exhibit regression to primary process thinking (p.24) It could then be surmised that in the absences of an integrated super- ego some secondary process thinking has not developed. 136 Jacques Lacan, The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psycho-analysis, (London and New York: Karnac books, 1973), p. 257. 137 As before, p. 268.
55 ideal becomes the super-ego. However, Lacan locates the ideal ego in the Imaginary and the Ego-Ideal in the Symbolic, with the super-ego determined by the Real.
This separation enables greater clarity in determining identity formation as being driven by desire and a simultaneous response to, and engagement with, the environment. It also assists this study in elucidating the character‟s struggle as the clash between their Ego-Ideal and its desires and the Ego-Ideal of the social. Lacan‟s fourth law, the „law of desire‟ – the agency that “tells you to act in accord with your desire” – further assists in depicting the character‟s struggle borne of a tension between two Ego-Ideals.138 Slavoj Zizek writes: “For Lacan, the seemingly benevolent agency of the Ego-Ideal that leads us to moral growth and maturity forces us to betray the „law of desire‟ by adopting the „reasonable‟ demands of the existing socio-symbolic order”.139 The subject is shaped by instinctual desires as well as desiring the „other‟, whose gaze they try to impress. Thus for Lacan, desire is both the object and the cause.140
For Pauly the car is both an object through which to define himself as well as a source of power. He manages to score a date with a long-legged blonde whom he takes to the drive-in, and from whom he seeks sexual gratification. Due to the size of the car, the conditions are cramped and when the date asks to have the roof of the car closed, Pauly is unable to reach the switch. When she then asks to be taken home we hear the voice of the judge: “Sucked in to you Mr Falzoni”.
138Slavoj Zizek, How to Read Lacan, (New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 2006), p. 81. 139 As before, p. 81. 140 As before, p. 67.
56 Pauly uses his source of power to defy the law that attempts to thwart his desire (and identity). In doing so, he is not only undone by the object as a source of power, he is laughed at by the law that he sought to defy.141
In light of Lucy we can say that in their pursuit of an Ego-Ideal as a passport to enter the Symbolic, some characters remain attached to an ideal ego or idealisation of themselves but are (unconsciously) at odds with an „Other‟ and its Ego-Ideal. Indeed, it is because the comic character is vulnerable to the introjection of a collective Ego-
Ideal that is at odds with their ideal ego or Ego-Ideal that he or she is at odds with the social. This would generate some degree of psychic tension. While the comic character may be unconscious of this tension, some are very aware of the existence of an „Other‟ that is at odds their desires, as we saw earlier with Pauly‟s attempt to master his feelings of powerlessness by reshaping the car to meet his needs in a direct affront to the law. 142
For Lacan, “the superego, with its excessive guilt feelings, is merely the necessary obverse of the Ego-Ideal: it exerts its unbearable pressure upon us on behalf of our betrayal of the law of desire”.143 They are two sides of the same coin – that which enables or inspires idealisation (Ego-Ideal) and is seen as “good” and that which prevents wishes and desires from coming to fruition (the super-ego) and is seen
141 In Chapter Three I deconstruct an episode of Acropolis Now where an object, Memo‟s poem, becomes a source of power and the means through which to expose the true nature of a disruptive element. 142 I argue that the comic tension is enabled by the conflict between the character‟s Ego-Ideal and that of the collective Ego-Ideal. I suggest that it is because the comic has no super-ego in the Freudian sense. If the Freudian super-ego is the combination of the Lacanian Real and Symbolic, then the alienated of‟ divided‟ subject could be viewed as having an Imaginary at odds with either the Symbolic or Real. The Symbolic and Real have not integrated with each other nor with the Imaginary within the psyche. The comic then would emerge in the Imaginary as opposition to the Symbolic or Real. However while the comic may be trapped in the Imaginary it is the split between the Symbolic and Real that maintains their sense of powerlessness in relation to the discourse that they seek to master. This chapter focuses on a more simplistic notion of the comic, trapped in the Imaginary and at odds with an „Other‟, as either Symbolic (as for Lucy) or Real (as with Pauly). 143 Slavoj Zizek, How to Read Lacan, as before, p. 81.
57 as “bad” the “law of the father”, in whose eyes I am guilty. The subject is caught between an innate „desire‟ (or self) that is surrendered for the collective Ego-Ideal, or s/he is in conflict with the punitive demands of the super-ego as the Real.144 I contend that the character‟s comicality emanates from the tension or conflict between their desire (and an Ego-Ideal) and the ability to achieve that Ego-Ideal as Symbolic in the social. The character is unconscious in so far as they are unaware of either how to achieve their Ego-Ideal or the existence of a Real that prevents their desire. If they are aware of a Real, characters like Pauly simply defy it, or ignore it like Gracie. Being trapped in the Lacanian Imaginary, the comic character is unable to engage with either the Symbolic or the Real – in some cases they are at odds with both registers. Such characters are responding to obstacles that prevent their desires or sense of self. Yet it appears that some sitcom characters, such as Lucy, repeatedly attempt to struggle to leave the Imaginary and enter the Symbolic but are (repeatedly) prevented from doing so. The question now is: what prevents some sitcom characters from leaving the
Imaginary, despite their desire to do so?
III – The character is trapped in the gaze of an „Other‟.
Lacan surmises that the Mother occupies the first Big Other. In recognising that
Mother as „Other‟ is not complete (there is a lack), identification then occurs through the little „other‟ which is “inscribed in the imaginary order”. As mentioned, the Big
Other is “inscribed in the order of the symbolic”, through which the Ego-Ideal is formed.145 The Big Other can be “both another subject, … and also the symbolic order which mediates the relationship with that other subject”. As „another subject‟, the
144Slavoj Zizek, How to Read Lacan, as before, pp. 80-81. Zizek argues while the super-ego is at odds with the innate „law of desire‟ there also exists a gap between the subject‟s „law of desire‟ and the seemingly benevolent Ego-Ideal which forces the subject to surrender their desires for the socio- symbolic order. 145 Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 133.
58 „other‟ is secondary to „Other‟, but if the first „other‟, as „Other‟, is distorted then all subsequent relationships in the Symbolic reinforce that “radical alterity … because it cannot be assimilated through identification”.146 Furthermore “the unconscious is the discourse of the „Other‟”.147 Thus if the first identification for the ego occurs in the mirror stage, and this relationship is distorted, identity becomes shaped by, and dependant on, the discourse of the „Other‟ in the Symbolic.148 Thus the Ego-Ideal, formed by the discourse of the „Other‟ through the Symbolic is determined by relationships within the social.
If the Ego-Ideal is the point from which the subject judges themself in the
Symbolic realm, then the „Other‟ gazes on the subject. Lacan‟s theory of the gaze is derived from the desire of the subject. Only through desire does the subject see the object, but what it does not see is that the object has the subject in its sights – as an object. This „other‟/‟Other‟ now gazes on the subject. It is the subject‟s desire that begets the gaze; instantiating it as an object – thus entrapping it.
Basil, from Fawlty Towers, desires to be accepted by the British Establishment with all of his pretension and class conscious behaviour that see him introjecting their sense of superiority. Basil is undone by the reality of his own capacities or limitations, but his attempts to repeatedly achieve this Ego-Ideal are further undermined by Sybil.
Like a child desperate for the love and approval of his manipulative narcissistic mother, and their seeming disinterest in each other, Basil‟s desire is to have Sybil recognise his efforts and superiority, which she does not gratify. He is flung between the psychic poles of grandiosity and worthlessness, further undermining his attempts
146 Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 133. 147 As before, p. 133. 148 As before, p. 133.
59 to achieve his goal.149 As desire elicits the gaze, Basil‟s need to be “seen” by Sybil begets his entrapment in her gaze.150
I argue that the comic character is trapped in the gaze of an „Other‟ – whether it be „other‟ as subject or as a representation of the big „Other‟. This „other‟/„Other‟ is unknown to them because it is borne of repressed oedipal conflicts, precipitated by an innate desire that has been frustrated in early relationships.151 In response to such conflicts the ego set up narcissistic defences, further enabling the denial and rejection of any reality that does not accord with that idealisation. It is in that clash – between desire and reality – that the character commonly suffers degradation. They become comic in the clash with a reality of which they are unconscious or which renders them unconscious. The comic is unconscious in relation to an „other‟/„Other‟.
In the Kath & Kim episode I examine, Kath encourages Kim to buy a top that obviously does not look good on her, saying: “puffy sleeves always look nice on a big lass”. Further sticking the knife into Kim‟s self-esteem, Kath says the top will cover
Kim‟s “fedubedas, love handles, welcome mat, and dowagers hump”. Kath, self- described as a “high maintenance foxy lady”, may have feelings, albeit unconscious ones, of being dethroned by the younger Kim, and so may (unconsciously) disempower Kim with fears that she is not the “hornbag” to which she aspires. Kath‟s constant stream of criticism towards Kim, particularly about her weight, hair and clothes, may be a means of maintaining power over Kim. But we can also see that
149 Kernberg notes that it is the extreme self-concept that demonstrates the lack of ego and super-ego integration , Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before, p. 229. 150 We can liken the character of Sybil to the Lacanian super-ego, who commands the subject to enjoy the will of the Other, assuming the “Supreme Being-in-Evil” by imposing “ „a senseless, destructive, purely oppressive, almost always anti-legal morality‟ on the neurotic subject”, Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 201. 151 Kernberg writes: “A frequent finding in patients with borderline personality organization is the history of extreme frustrations and intense aggression (secondary or primary) during the first few years of life. Excessive pregenital and particularly oral aggression tends to be projected and causes a paranoid distortion of the early parental images, especially of the mother.” Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, p. 41.
60 Kim‟s belief that she is a hornbag and fashionista, is not only narcissistic, but could also be a form of ego defence in the face of such a continual verbal onslaught. As will become evident during the course of this study, when her narcissistic identification is threatened, Kim responds with anger or denial (compared with Pauly who uses trickery and deception).
Characters like Kim, Lucy and Basil, whilst narcissistic in their desire to achieve their Ego-Ideal, are not only unaware of their limitations and capacities, they are blind to the reality in which they exist. The character is trapped in the Imaginary by a narcissistic desire that simultaneously blinds them, further preventing their entry into the Symbolic. They never reach their Ego-Ideals because their unconscious behaviour and desires are instantiated by current relationships. Trapped in the gaze of an „other‟ these characters are unaware of the dynamics of such relationships because they are borne of repressed oedipal conflicts.152 The question now is what differentiates these comic characters from each other, and, in particular, from characters such as Sybil and Kath, who are comic in nature but appear to have no issue with an „other‟/‟Other‟? These characters are masters of their universe as opposed to characters such as Kim, Lucy and Basil who attempt to master a discourse through the attainment of an Ego-Ideal but (repeatedly) fail.
It is useful to return to the myth of Narcissus to understand narcissistic behaviour as it relates to Echo and the interpersonal relationships between characters shaped by such psychic experiences.
152 While the comic character emerges in the struggle to master a discourse that is unconscious, including oedipal conflicts, as Purdie argues, I argue that these conflicts determine the nature of sitcom relationships and therefore are central to understanding the psychic construction of the character. Further it is the nature of the frustration of early experiences that shapes the unconscious, not the instinctual drives as genetically determined.
61 IV – Narcissus and Echo as comic characters.
Both Narcissus and Echo have suffered from a psychic disturbance: he trapped in his mirror-image, her psychic wound depicted in the myth as actual disembodiment. Echo loses her sense of self after a verbal lashing by her mother, Hera, when Hera discovers her daughter has been protecting her adulterous father, Zeus. Echo now fears the loss of her mother‟s love. This disempowers her, making her dependent on an „other‟ for a sense of self. Narcissus‟ mother, the nymph Liriope, has been trapped by the river god
Cephius to whom she bears a child, the beautiful Narcissus. Some readings of the myth suggest that Liriope has been raped by Cephius as she is abandoned after the encounter. Echo comes across the now adolescent Narcissus and projects her Ego-
Ideal onto him. Narcissus is unable to love another who is not like his mirror-image.
Echo is afraid of not being loved.153
The psychic construction of both Narcissus and Echo is determined by their relationships with primary caregivers. Echo‟s treatment by her mother and the love she has for her father may precipitate feelings of anxiety and disempowerment.154
Narcissus‟ absent father and now possessive mother, gazing on her son, may render him powerless. The experiences of both Echo and Narcissus invoke a need for power: she through an „other‟, he over an „other‟. I offer that narcissistic behaviour is an attempt to nullify feelings of powerlessness, and echoistic behaviour is an attempt to nullify disempowering experiences. Both are fixated by a need for power.
In terms of the psychoanalytic reading that I have been developing in this chapter, it could be argued that the comic character‟s experiences of power, through
153 In various readings Narcissus is exceptionally cruel and disdains those that love him. A cold and ruthless attitude with a shallow emotional life is a key trait for Kernberg‟s diagnosis of narcissistic personalities, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before, p. 17. 154 Thus while Narcissus suffers from narcissism, Echo therefore must suffer from “echoism”. Traits of such a condition could include a fear of abandonment and rejection, a fear of speaking for oneself.
62 their arrested narcissism, shape their identity as well as determine how such representatives view and engage with external reality. Thus, I argue that some characters are driven by a need for power over others or in the social (the narcissist), whilst other characters are driven by a need for power through an identification with an „other‟ (the echoist).155
In examining Kath & Kim, Kim‟s “second best friend” Sharon is a good example of an “echo” comic character who not only attaches her narcissism onto an
„other‟ but also seeks to be recognised by this „other‟. In „The Moon‟ (2:3), the main storyline centres on Kim and Sharon‟s school reunion.156 Sharon is desperate to go and needs Kim to go with her. The episode begins with Kim‟s husband, Brett, on the phone to her while he attempts to serve customers for the “computer city super sell- out sale”. He has to work all weekend: “It‟s crazy here Kim”. Cut to a mid-shot of
Kim, prostrate on the couch, Cleopatra-like: “Well I‟m flat chat here too; I‟m pregnant you know, I can‟t do much anymore”. The shot moves into a close-up as she hangs up the phone and hollers for Sharon. The camera pans to the kitchen where
Sharon turns from the sink and comes rushing to the doorway, concern in her voice:
“Yes Kim?”. The camera pans back to Kim: “Can you pass the tiny teddies” (small chocolate biscuits); cut to Sharon still in the doorway: “They are right there Kim”, as she points to the table next to Kim where the jar of biscuits sit; cut back to Kim: “I‟m
155 While my argument has been to explore the comic as suffering a narcissistic personality disorder, I refrain from saying it is pathological. Kernberg suggests that narcissistic personality disorders develop through a serious distortion of object-relations; pathological narcissism develops as a result of pathological object-relations. He further argues that there appears to be in addition a parental figure that displays cold, covert aggression, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before. (pp. 230-5). I suggest that while the comic character, through having repressed oedipal conflicts may display traits that are characteristic of narcissistic desires, these are precipitated to a lesser degree than the pathological. Thus for me the comic is shaped by repressed oedipal conflicts that then play out in the social, determined by some experience of relationships that are based on power. I discuss this further in Chapter Two. 156 Full details in Programography.
63 not supposed to do any heavy lifting”. Sharon shuffles towards Kim: “Is that what the doctor said?” Kim holds up her hand with fingers spread: “No the nail tech”.
This opening scene establishes that Kim, bored and suffering from Brett‟s lack of attention, needs someone to be at her beck and call and Sharon is the chosen one.
After handing the bucket of tiny teddies to Kim, Sharon straightens up, heading back to the kitchen in an act of self-protection as the camera follows her. Sharon continues:
“I don‟t want to go to the school reunion on my own”. Once back in the safety of the kitchen, she continues like a child pleading to go to the circus: “It will be fuuuuun
…”, to which Kim replies “Oh yeah like last time when I was completely „umiliated turning up in fancy dress”.
Dramaturgically, one character‟s desire is the other‟s source of power. The scene ends with Kim managing to get Sharon to rearrange her work hours so that she can pick up Kim‟s drycleaning and take her to Kath‟s, all the while holding up a carrot about the reunion: “I said I‟d think about it”. Kim is the omnipotent narcissist, wielding power over her echo-slave.
Sharon gets to go to the reunion after a grateful friend, seeking to repay
Sharon‟s earlier kindness, seeks her company. This leaves Kim “home alone” on a
Saturday night. Kim now risks looking like a loser herself and so decides to go to the reunion, declaring that she will “wipe the floor” with what she is going to wear. In the next chapter we see that Kim is „umiliated like last time, turning up dressed in an outfit that resembles that of a pirate. Like Pauly and his car, it is Kim‟s narcissistic identity that is both her ego defence but which also triggers her degradation. The character becomes comic in the pursuit of power. The comic character‟s motivation may be unconscious, but now I argue that it is the ego, in its pursuit of power, rather than the character‟s unconscious, that instantiates their (comic) degradation.
64 Later in the episode, Kim discovers that Sharon‟s now sycophantic friend has offered the apple-shaped and overweight Sharon the opportunity to fulfil her dreams of “becoming an elite athlete”. In true narcissistic fashion Kim retaliates with abuse and vitriol, forcing Sharon to choose her dream over her friendship with Kim. This episode of Kath & Kim is thematically guided by the question: what happens when
Echo decides to leave? Sharon does leave, but as we expect, and as the form demands, she returns. Many would ask why? Of course Sharon needs to or there would be no series. But why would someone return to such an abusive situation? Sadly Sharon knows no other way of being treated. She not only denies the abuse of Kim, she identifies through it, mistaking it for attention. Sharon is offered an opportunity to fulfil her dream, achieve her Ego-Ideal, but is unable to because of her comfort in being treated like a slave-servant. Sharon‟s denial of reality (the abuse by Kim and her ability to be an elite athlete) is an ego defence (of the abuse). I argue that this defence is the result of her “echoism”, itself an arrestment (or abdication) of her own narcissism.
The Greek myth of Narcissus, its Roman translation and its psychoanalytic interpretation enable a reading of the comic character that defines them as either narcissistic or echoistic. Narcissistic comic characters derive their power through objects and relationships, whereas echoistic comic characters seek simply to be recognised – as such they are not driven by desire and therefore are less “active” as characters. I examine the nature of powerlessness and disempowerment and their affect on the comic character‟s behaviour and relationships in the next chapter, but now I offer that some characters are shaped by the psychic construction of both
Narcissus and Echo. Characters such as Lucy, Kim and Basil, whilst attempting to master their environments are simultaneously undone in that environment in their own
65 attempt to be “seen” by an „other‟/‟Other‟. They are primarily narcissistic in nature but suffer simultaneously from an echoistic entrapment, of which they are unaware.
Such characters are not only unconscious victims, their struggle is unconscious. I label these characters the key character because their struggle, in its perpetuality, comprises the comic engine of the program.
I contend that the key character‟s entrapment is borne of a gaze that is constituted by an „Other‟ but which must incorporate the „other‟. For Basil it is Sybil and the Establishment. For Lucy it is husband Ricky and the social discourse of the time. For Kim it is Kath and the aspiration of the suburban middle-class to be seen as popular and fashionable. For such characters their desire instantiates the gaze, borne of early relationships which are then maintained and to varying degrees also replicated in the social.
The key character personifies the Lacanian alienated and „divided‟ subject; a type of comic (non) hero who never changes but repeatedly and perpetually struggles to achieve or maintain their Ego-Ideal. Characters like Sharon, Manuel and Ethel are comic but they are not divided selves struggling for a sense of unity. Like the mythical Echo, they simply struggle to be recognised, however brutal and humiliating
(and funny) that might be; nevertheless they are happy to remain in the service of their master. Some characters, like Pauly from Pizza, are aware of the „Other‟ that seeks to thwart their desire. Pauly‟s comicality is precipitated by his struggle with a law and its discourse that seeks to define, limit and judge him.157 Such characters, while thwarted in their desires, revel in the anarchistic conflict arising from such opposition, restricting their comicality to gags and extreme performances.
157 I view the character of Bobo as the key character rather than Pauly because he is trapped in the unknowing gaze of his mother.
66 Psychoanalytic theory helps elucidate psychic construction of the comic character, in particular the key character and their struggle. I have demonstrated that the key character is not just the character full of hubris, nor a caricature or stereotype or archetypal expression of someone we recognise, it is the character who struggles for a sense of self, trapped in the gaze of an „Other‟ borne of the „other‟ – which they either attempt to live up to, deny, attack or shrink from, but from which they never escape.
Gags, jokes and comedic performance may be a means of attaining mastery of a discourse for all comic characters, but as long as its dynamic remains unknown to the key character in particular, then their struggle is repetitive and the entrapment is perpetual. This repetitive nature makes them the comic engine of the program. In locating and defining the key character we ask: who struggles to maintain or gain an
Ego-Ideal – but is unable to? We now seek to better understand why.
67
CHAPTER TWO
The perpetual (power) struggle of sitcom relationships.
Characters rarely exist alone – they exist in relationships.
[Linda Seger, Creating Unforgettable Characters, (New York: Owl Books, 1990), p. 91].
Comedy flourishes where economic power is ideologically confused with natural status, as in negotiations of familial relationships...
[Susan Purdie, Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), p. 99].
Sitcoms are about relationships. There are essentially three types of relationships that bind characters together: family (with the subsets of parent, sibling, partners; bound by blood and home), friends (bound by experience in the external world) and workplace (bound by economic circumstances and/or status). In Chapter One I argued that the comic character‟s narcissism shapes an identity, that when thwarted precipitates feelings of powerlessness. In response the character becomes comic and suffers degradation. I argued that the key character is trapped in the gaze of an
„Other‟, preventing their entry into the Symbolic. Thus the gaze disempowers the key
68 character and accounts for their echoistic entrapment. This chapter sets out to better understand the dynamics of that entrapment.
My point of departure here is Susan Purdie‟s thesis, which I discussed at length in the Introduction. Her argument is that the comic character, as an alienated self, attempts to master a discourse that is either known to them, or becomes known to them in the course of the narrative. Purdie contends that the comic seeks to master the discourse and as such exists in the social. But Purdie does not elucidate whether the discourse that resides in the unconscious is known or unknown to the comic (and the spectator). To equate the unconscious with discourse and the comic‟s desire to master it suggests that the comic is unconscious of the discourse – but in what way? If the unconscious is “unknown knowledge” then is it the desire to master that which is repressed and unconscious? The comic character is not only unconscious, they are unconscious in relation to the social that they seek to master (or if not be expelled). I now ask what of the character who exists within a discourse that they are unable to master and yet remain in the situation.
This chapter sets out to demonstrate that the key character, in having a personality disorder, when faced with a threat to their narcissistic identity and desire is rendered powerless, not only responds in extreme ways, but is simultaneously maintained in a state of anxiety that underscores their entrapment. I examine their anxiety to offer that it is borne of repressed – and thus unknown – multiple oedipal conflicts. The character‟s unconscious compels them to repeat their actions in an attempt to master such dynamics. The previous chapter examined the comic character driven by desire. This chapter examines the comic character driven by fear and anxiety in order to better understand the behaviour of the sitcom character in relationships and situations that maintain them in a state of disempowerment.
69 To that end I now set out to better understand the psychodynamics of such personalities that I discussed in the last chapter in relation to the mythological figures of Echo and Narcissus. I seek to discriminate between powerlessness as the determinant of narcissism and disempowerment as the determinant of echoism.
Powerlessness emanates from the fear of having no power and engenders an action, such as fight or flight, whereas disempowerment emanates from a trauma where the subject has been rendered motionless, producing paralysis.
Freud, however, in observing that fear precipitates narcissistic behaviour, does not examine how it then determines behaviour. In his paper on symptom-formation
(1926) he examines the nature of anxiety/fear to argue that anxiety/fear renders the subject powerless.158 This paper, titled „Hemmung, Symptom und Angst‟, translated in the James Strachey standard edition as „Inhibitions, Symptoms and Anxiety‟, is the most detailed attempt to understand the nature and origin of anxiety. The title met with contention by John Reddick who writes that “Angst has always been something of a shibboleth for translators”, resulting in the specialist term of anxiety, which means something different in psychoanalysis than it does in ordinary language.159
Reddick argues that fear, rather than anxiety, is more appropriate to what
Freud is discussing. He notes that Freud used the word Angstlichkeit when discussing anxiety, which is more generalized.160 Thus Reddick translates the title of the 1926 paper as „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟. In it Freud seeks to understand how fear determines symptomatic behaviour that controls the subject. Towards the end of the paper Freud distinguishes between objective fear and neurotic fear. Objective fear is the response to an objective danger occurring in the external world. Neurotic fear is
158 Sigmund Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟ in Beyond the Pleasure Principle and Other Writings, (John Reddick trans. London: Penguin Classics, 2003), p. 205. 159 John Reddick, Beyond the Pleasure Principle and Other Writings, as before, see note 3, pp. 264 -5. 160 As before, p. 265.
70 the response to a fear posed by the drives; there is no definite object. Thus it is understandable why the debate occurs: anxiety has no object and fear has an object.
While I am interested in the nature of anxiety and its affects, however, my initial focus is on fear and powerlessness as generative of comic performance.161 I return to
Freud‟s distinction between objective fear and neurotic fear to argue that the key character is constituted by both psychic constructions.
In addition to Freud‟s paper on „Inhibition‟, I use Reddick‟s translation of
Freud‟s 1920 paper, „Beyond the Pleasure Principle‟ and the work of clinical psychologist Dorothy Rowe. In her book, Beyond Fear (1985), Rowe discusses the connection between fear and extreme behaviour. Rowe assists this study by use of clear examples that demonstrate the connection between fear and behaviour in the external world. While Freud‟s work isolates behaviour from personality, Rowe‟s work demonstrates how different extreme behaviour is related to personality types. She extends her observations in the context of familial relationships in her more recent book, My Dearest Enemy, My Dangerous Friend: making and breaking sibling bonds
(2007).
These texts lay the framework to observe the mother-daughter relationship of
Kath and Kim in Kath & Kim as well as Kim‟s friendship with “second best friend”
Sharon. I use the episode discussed in Chapter One, „The Moon‟ (2:3 2003) to extend my observations on the nature of the relationships in this program. I also look closely
161The inability to deal with anxiety is a symptom of borderline personality organisation. But as mentioned in Chapter One, I am reluctant to label echoes as having borderline personality disorders as determined by psychoanalysis because having such psychic constructions such as weak ego boundaries, according to Kernberg, does not necessarily follow that they surrender their narcissism to an „other‟; I view this as part of Echo‟s psychology. Rather borderlines suffer from the splitting of the ego, disavowing conflicting perceptions or realities because the ego is unable to contain contradictory messages of “good” and “bad” objects. Otto Kernberg, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, (Oxford and Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2004), pp. 28-33. An echo may suffer from a similar ego splitting, but as I argue in this chapter I think they are defined, at least in terms of being comic characters, by the need to be loved; their anxiety is derived from the fear that the love-object does not love them.
71 at the relationship of husband and wife Basil and Sybil in two episodes of Fawlty
Towers (BBC 1975): „The Hotel Inspectors‟ (1:4) and „The Germans‟ (1:6).162
I extend the definition of the key character as an alienated self trapped in the gaze of an (unknowable) „Other‟, to now propose that fear not only provokes comic behaviour and ultimately degradation, but fear along with an unknowable anxiety instantiates the character in the very dynamic that maintains their entrapment. The key character is not only unconscious, they are unaware of the dynamic that renders them unconscious because it is unknowable.
I – Identity, fear and power.
Fear is the reaction to danger.
[Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, (John Reddick trans.), as before, p. 218.]
In „Beyond the Pleasure Principle‟ (1920) Freud seeks to understand responses to feelings of powerlessness and fear. He analyses the actions of a young child who repeatedly throws a cotton reel tied to a string, in response to, and during, the absence of his mother. By attempting to answer the connection between the drives of the pleasure principle and a compulsion to repeat, Freud surmises that such action may be a desire by the scattered self to find reunification and “satisfy” the compulsion that aims to reduce tension built up by the absence of the love-object. Freud argues that play is a desire for ego mastery and that repeated behaviour is a result of (infantile) fear and its attendant feelings of powerlessness. The game, as a form of play, is borne of the pleasure principle with the aim of reducing “inner stimulative tension”.163
162 Both programs first went to air in 1975, BBC. 163 Freud, „Beyond the Pleasure Principle‟, as before, p. 95.
72 Commentary on this “game” range from it being about the need of the child to nullify feelings of powerlessness through play, to suggesting that it is a response to feelings of anger at the absence of the love-object (Neale‟s analysis of the joke).164 It could also be said that the cotton reel, as a signifier, represents the alienated subject seeking identity through repetition of the action.165 What is not contested is that for the child this game is the reproduction of an event in his external world and can be seen as an act of aggression, or as a means to deal with loss of the love-object; either experience precipitates feelings of powerlessness. The compulsion to repeat enables gratification through the sense of power that such action (or play) evokes.
I discussed in Chapter One how object-relations can be both the cause and a response to narcissistic scarring. Attached to an „object‟ as a means of defence or identity, the individual then feels powerless in the face of a threatened loss of that object. Powerlessness can trigger the individual to act in response to such feelings but it can also precipitate the individual to construct an identity that enables power as a means of defence to those feelings.
In the episode of Pizza that was examined in the last chapter, Pauly uses the car as a means to reinstate the power that has been taken from him. The law has threatened his sense of self by taking away the object that serves to define his identity.
His ego mastery of reconfiguring the car enables him to “stooge” the law and maintain his identity with his peers as a car hoon and chick magnet. Pauly is a good illustration of the comic character‟s need for power that both feeds his identity and nullifies feelings of powerlessness.
164 Discussed in the literature review in the Introduction. 165 This is the basis of Lacan‟s alienated subject which has also been applied to the repetitive nature of the comic by Alenka Zupancic, specifically that which generates identity through repetition, also discussed in the literature review, The Odd One In: On Comedy, (Cambridge and London: The Mit Press, 2008).
73 Freud‟s paper „Beyond the Pleasure Principle‟, discusses the issue of how the ego enlists the aid of the pleasure principle to keep the level of excitation and tension caused by the transfer of energy to a bearable minimum. In „Inhibition, Symptom and
Fear‟ he raises a number of challenging and much debated issues, particularly the castration complex and its feelings of anxiety. But the central concern of the paper is how an event, once repressed in the unconscious (and forgotten), then generates symptoms that result in behaviours that control the ego.166 Freud writes: “one thing that is clear is that the first attacks of fear – which are extremely intense – occur before the super-ego differentiates”.167 Fear takes hold before the super-ego has developed and thus has enormous power.
Significantly, in this essay Freud departs from his earlier view of the ego and its topographical origin, saying now that the ego is not completely at the mercy of the super-ego and the id, but attempts to broker some truce between their demands and the subject‟s engagement with the external world. However, the ego has little control over the id‟s energy, in particular over that which has been repressed, and attempts to mediate the tension between the id‟s drives and the super-ego‟s demands. If the ego cannot defend against the new drive-impulses, it is compelled to repeat the action.168
The subject develops symptoms to reduce the level of excitation but in time the ego becomes beset by neurosis.169 As long as the original source of fear remains
166 Reading the three papers, „Narcissism‟, (1914), „Beyond‟ (1920) and „Inhibition‟ (1926) together elucidates Freud‟s continued pursuit of seeking to understand the role of the instincts in shaping behaviour and ego identity. 167 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, p. 161. He also writes that “the barrier gives protection only against external stimuli, not against internal pressures exerted by drives”; leading us to distinguish between the fear determinants that arise from drives and those that arise from external stimuli. So an external trauma can be defended against once the super-ego has developed, but a feeling that emerges internally has no barrier. This would be similar for an experience that occurs before the super-ego has developed. 168 Fear exists within the psyche. It is projected onto an external source and has a definite object. As mentioned, the ego is the locus of fear, not the super-ego, which may foster fear. 169 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, p. 222.
74 unconscious the subject will continue to respond to triggers with the aim of reducing the ensuing tension.
Despite rethinking his previous view, Freud nevertheless holds to the idea that the maturing ego‟s repression of early trauma does not make it the punitive super-ego.
Fear sits on the ego. Indeed, it is the ego‟s attitude to fear which triggers the repression. As an „“organising principle‟” the ego decides what it can and cannot handle, sending what it cannot deal with to the unconscious. When exposed to a similar situation that is reminiscent of that earlier trauma, tension develops in the psyche which the subject experiences as „unpleasure‟. Thus for Freud, fear is
“reproduced as a state of affect on the basis of a pre-existing memory-image” to control the impulses of the id.170 Freud writes: “once the process has been turned into a symptom by the repression, it henceforth carries on its existence outside the ego- organisation and independently of it”.171 Being bound up with the id, the ego can only deal with danger by restricting its own organization. In clarifying the nature of fear
Freud writes: “symptoms are created in order to extricate the ego from the danger situation”.172 The ego, unable to neutralise the repression through defences, becomes a victim of the action, now controlled by the id. Furthermore, he writes: “the regressive attraction exerted by the repressed impulse and the force of the repression itself are so great that the new impulse has no choice but to obey the compulsion to repeat”.173
Hence the subject becomes fixated on the repression to a danger that no longer exists.174
170 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, p. 160. 171 As before, p.165. The ego exists as both part of the id and the super-ego. The ego is an organisation whereas the id is not. 172 As before, p. 212. 173 As before, p. 222. 174 Laplanche and Pontalis write: “According to Freud, each instinct expresses itself in terms of affect and in terms of ideas” in The Language of Psychoanalysis, (London: Karnac Books, 2006), p. 13. The
75 For Freud the trauma of birth is the first and original experience of fear to which all others relate because it is an action over which the subject has no control.
Prior to this moment there has been no „object‟ and therefore no experience of attachment; after birth, separation is experienced for the first time.175 This experience of separation, when triggered, will generate for the ego feelings of “being abandoned by its guardian, the super-ego – that is, by the forces that rule our destiny and the rule of Law – and hence deprived forever of the shield safeguarding it from dangers all and sundry”.176 Therein lies the connection with the castration complex. Fear is the response to the anticipation of losing some “thing” or someone on which/whom the subject depends for protection or for self-definition. Fear is the response to a danger situation including the sense of danger of the loss of the love-object (the child‟s longing for the mother).177
Further clarifying the nature of fear, Freud writes: “Objective danger is a danger that we know, and objective fear is a fear of such a danger, that is, one that is known. Neurotic fear is a fear of a danger that we do not know”.178 The response to each is different. Objective fear results in physical helplessness and neurotic fear
term “affect” is similar to fear and is used by both Freud and Lacan. Freud sees affect as being in opposition to „idea‟. For Lacan, who sees psychoanalytic treatment as ascending that opposition: “affect means that the subject is affected by his relation with the other”. Lacan does not see the opposition as useful in psychoanalytic treatment other than the relationship of affect with the symbolic order. For him “affect means that the subject is affected by his relation with the Other”. Affects arise from the subject‟s relation with the Other, but more significantly affects are signals that bear upon the ideational representative that causes repression. He emphasises Freud‟s position that repression does not bear upon the affect … but upon the ideational representative (which is, in Lacan‟s terms, the “signifier”). Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 5. This study is guided by the proposition that fear generates behaviour emanating from a power dynamic experienced in early relationships, rather than generalized emotions, but that fear (and anxiety) have shaped the psyche that then causes the ego to act and respond in certain situations, particularly those centered on a power dynamic. 175 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, pp. 201-203. Freud writes that the issue of fear of castration is the separation from a highly prized object; “„primal fear‟ of birth, arises out of separation from the mother”, p. 205. 176 As before, p. 198. 177 As before, p. 205. 178 As before, p. 233.
76 causes a psychical helplessness.179 The baby who loses his love-object is not only afraid, but in pain, as the crying demonstrates. But Freud extends the pain to include those experiences when the object is present but angry with him “and the loss of the object‟s love then becomes the new fear and more constant danger and fear- determinant”.180 The loss of the love-object becomes the loss of the love (and protection) of the love-object.181 In desiring the love-object and being met with anger, anxiety takes hold of the child in its relationship with its mother. The fear of losing the love-object, having an object, results in feelings of annihilation and powerlessness, but the fear of the loss of love of the love-object, having no discernable object, institutes feelings of anxiety and disempowerment.182 Objective fear generates powerlessness and triggers a response. Neurotic fear produces anxiety, resulting in paralysis. In the face of anxiety the subject feels disempowered.
In the Fawlty Towers episode, „The Germans‟ (1:6), Sybil is in hospital for an operation on an ingrown toenail. This gives Basil great delight, not only at the pain
Sybil will endure, but that he is at last given free reign of the hotel; in doing so he will fulfil his goal of demonstrating his competence as a manager. Sybil will have to recognise his efforts. Each time Basil attempts to complete a task he is interrupted, often by Sybil calling to remind him of what he needs to do. Basil derives much of his identity from the delusion that he is a competent and successful manager of an upper- class establishment. When under pressure, Basil attempts to control the environment around him. Chaos signals his downfall. We do not know if Sybil seeks to deliberately
179 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, p. 234. 180 As before, p. 238. 181 Freud describes two types of attraction to the object-love: the enclitic relation based on those who cared for us and the narcissistic one being those who are like us. (Is there a third type of relationship being driven by those who will care for us in the way we were not cared for?). 182 As it is unconscious Freud seeks to bring it to consciousness in order to treat neurotic fear as objective fear, as it is more treatable in the psychoanalytic process.
77 prevent Basil from achieving his Ego-Ideal or why but she maintains control of him by keeping him in a state of confusion through constant and changing demands. Sybil is Basil‟s love-object but she never delivers to him the recognition he desires. Sybil‟s refusal to “see” Basil or his competency keeps him in a state of anxiety. While she clearly maintains some power over him, Basil acts out of the fear of not being
“recognised”, precipitating his more aggressive (and nasty) responses towards her.
His behaviour is borne of the fear of pain of rejection by his love-object. As long as she remains his love-object, he is captured by her gaze and thus can maintain her power over him.
Basil‟s desire is to be recognised in the Symbolic as well as by Sybil. His fear is failure in the social as well as the feeling that Sybil does not love him or care about him. We can now say that when narcissistic identity is threatened, the combined pressure of desire (to achieve an Ego-Ideal) and the fear (of not achieving it) provokes the character to act. Coupled with an unconscious fear, or anxiety of the loss of a love-object or its love, appears to then precipitate extreme behaviour. It is the tension of conflicting desire with unconscious fear that drives the character to their ultimate degradation, but now I contend that it is this fear that also maintains their entrapment.
In the „Inhibition‟ paper, Freud distinguishes three different neuroses that have fear as their source: phobias, conversion hysteria and obsessional neurosis. All three phobias are rooted in the fear of castration and an unresolved Oedipus complex.183
These phobias are reactions to fight off the libidinal demands of the complex. I have
183 Freud‟s reasoning of the castration theory is that it is analogous to death (or annihilation). He argues that humans do not know what death is yet we can imagine what castration is. But such a view places sole power in the phallus. This argument is the basis for much feminist criticism against Freud, and to which I agree. Freud‟s view equates fear with the (possible) loss of (male) power. But fear can result in feelings of powerlessness shaped by a variety of experiences, such as lack of opportunity or discrimination. The pursuit of power then becomes the action to nullify those feelings through „objects‟ and object-relations.
78 noted that for many theorists an unresolved Oedipus complex lies at the heart of pathological narcissism and is centred on the repressed and therefore unresolved conflicts experienced in early relationships. Robert Stam writes:
Technically, the oedipal complex refers to the organized body of loving and hostile wishes that the child experiences toward its parents. It get its name from the Greek tragedy by Sophocles which, for Freud, dramatized the rivalry (and wish for death) with the parent of the same sex and sexual desire for the parent of the opposite sex that he found to be a truth of psychic life.184
For Freud this is a decisive point in the structuring of personality. Stam further notes: that the “Oedipal complex signals the transition from the pleasure principle to the reality principle, from the familial order to society at large ... Freud uses this schema to describe the processes by which the child develops a unified sense of self (an ego) and takes up a particular place in the cultural networks of social, sexual and familial relations”.185 The complex is a symbolic imposition of the ego‟s engagement with society and its rules, rather than the source of a personality disorder.186
Freud suggests that males are forced out of their Oedipal stage by a fear of castration; females through resignation to the acceptance of the lack of a phallus. The complex forms the basis for unconscious recreations to situations, including those that involve the projection and rejection of the subject‟s desires. The subject is split between two levels of being: the conscious life of the ego or self and the repressed desires and fears of the unconscious.
184 Robert Stam et al, New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics: Structuralism, Post-Structuralism and Beyond, (London and New York: Routledge, 1992), pp.130-131. 185 As before, p.131. 186 The difficulty with the Oedipus complex is that the nature of the conflicts are not always clearly observable or defined. Whatever the source of such conflicts, they not only remain repressed and unconscious they are maintained by the family dynamics, including sibling relationships and assigned family “roles”. See Dorothy Rowe, My Dearest Enemy, My Dangerous Friend: making and breaking sibling bonds, (New York and London: Routledge, 2007). I have taken the view that early relationships shape identity and therefore are part and parcel of both identity and behaviour. This chapter attempts to define how relationships trigger behaviour that is comic and results in degradation.
79 For Lacan “the Oedipal situation becomes a conflict between desire and the
Law”.187 Stam writes, in Lacan‟s work, “the child moves out of the pre-Oedipal unity with the mother not only through fear of castration, but through the acquisition of language as well”.188 Lacan writes, “[o]ur sense of self is formed through the perceptions and language of others, even at the deepest levels of the unconscious.” 189
According to Stam: “Lacan‟s work hinges on an alliance between language, the unconscious, parents, the symbolic order and cultural relations”.190 If we have language, we have an unconscious. Thus the subject is more than consciousness – it is dictated to by an unconscious.191 However, it is fear that marks the division between the conscious and unconscious, which together determines the identity of the subject and its engagement with the social.
Lacanian psychoanalytic theory offers that identity can only be achieved through the recognition by an „other‟, initially in the mirror stage and later in the
Symbolic, as „Other‟. In Chapter One, I discussed the Lacanian notion that initially the mother is the „Other‟, and in the recognition of her lack (of a phallus), she becomes the „other‟.192 Any disruption of this relationship to the „Other‟ is replicated in the Symbolic.193 As long as this complex remains unresolved the subject seeks to
187 Robert Stam et al explains: “In the broadest sense, this means that the Oedipal moment involves symbolic structures, representations which are significant to the subject, rather than actual individuals”, New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics: Structuralism, Post-Structuralism and Beyond, as before, p. 132. 188 As before, p. 132. 189 As before, p. 132. 190 As before, p. 133. 191 Elizabeth Grosz, in discussing Hegelian identity as being informed only by an „other‟, writes that the certain self is undone by the Freudian/Lacanian unconscious. Grosz puts it deftly: “the fate of the subject is necessarily bound up with the existence of the other.” Sexual Subversions (Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1989), p. 6. Thus for her identity becomes dependent on an „other‟; we cannot escape the “attachment”. The question then becomes can we ever separate, if so how? 192 Purdie writes: “Fullness of self can similarly be constructed only through the attention of another on to whom fullness has been projected”, Comedy: Mastery of Discourse, as before, pp. 25-26. 193 As mentioned in Chapter One, Dylan Evans clarifies the Lacanian view of „Other‟ as follows: Little „other‟ is the reflection and projection of ego and is entirely inscribed in the imaginary order, whereas “Big Other designates radical alterity...because it cannot be assimilated through identification.” The big Other is inscribed in the symbolic. The mother occupying the first instance of the big Other, which
80 (repeatedly) master those feelings in their social existence. I contend that the repressed and unresolved Oedipus complex gives rise to a dynamic centred on power;
Basil and Sybil are a good example of such a dynamic.
Dorothy Rowe, referring to psychoanalysis, sees fear as both a response to an event and a projection of an event that might happen to be shaped by an unacknowledged trauma during ego maturation. Rather than just defining the pathological symptoms resulting from fear as Freud does, Rowe connects fear with behaviour that exists in “normal” everyday situations, likening fear to a virus that runs through a family. For her fear arises from the libidinal demands of a more general nature rather than those specifically centred on the phallus and/or the mother, as Freud initially found. In detailing a number of clinical cases, Rowe demonstrates, much like
Winnicott, that the primary defence of fear is anger, stemming from a lack of power experienced during the infantile stage.194 This repressed fear is triggered later in life by those experiences, situations or people which remind the individual of the original pain, neglect or powerlessness, and is the root of anxious and aggressive behaviour.
Those who feel powerless use either aggression or denial in response to such feelings.
Aggression is a response to feelings of powerlessness and is directed at the source, or its representative. Despite being strongly resistant to labelling human behaviour as obsessional neurotic, hysterical or being introverted or extroverted – as is conventional in both Freudian and Jungian psychoanalysis, Rowe draws on both psychoanalysts‟ work to argue that extreme behaviours such as mania and withdrawal,
Lacan sees as precipitating the castration complex when the child discovers this Other is not complete. The radical alterity of the subject can be produced in the Imaginary with mother as Other and replicated in both the big Other in the symbolic and the little other as another subject, that is, in relationships. Evans also notes that other as another subject is secondary to Other as symbolic order. Dylan Evans, An Introductory Dictionary of Lacanian Psychoanalysis, as before, p. 133. 194 D. Winnicott also sees fear as being linked to compulsive and extreme behaviour, Home is Where We Start From: Essays by a Psychoanalyst, (New York & London: W.W. Norton & Co., 1986) p. 45.
81 are forms of defence set up by the ego in response to a fear of “annihilation of the self”. Rowe determines that individuals are driven by a desire to achieve in the external world. When their goals are threatened or they are prevented from achieving those goals they are beset by fear – the basis for ego defences and extreme behaviour.
The question that concerns Rowe is how people respond when faced with such fears.
For Rowe, individuals fundamentally experience the world in one of two ways: as introverts processing the world through an internal reality, or as extroverts processing the world through an external reality (with some being shy extroverts in between).195 Introverts need to think things through and extroverts need to work with other people. In order to achieve in the external world, introverts need to do so by their own efforts and extroverts through relationships. While individuals may respond differently in certain situations, Rowe insists that at our core we are essentially one or the other.196
As Rowe is interested in the effects of the clash between how people see themselves and understand the world, her arguments are focussed on understanding how each „type‟ is driven by the need to achieve; furthermore, how they respond when they are faced with the possible failure of their goals. She observes that some individuals not only make choices that attempt to serve their fundamental type, but that they are also shaped by the need to avoid their primary fears: for introverts it is
195 Freud‟s neurotics and hysterics, defined primarily along gender lines have become Rowe‟s introverts and extroverts, non-gendered but defined as how they see and engage with the external world. Freud divides the ego‟s repression into two main symptom forming activities: obliteration of past events (rather than dealing with the consequences of an event, it seeks to make the event vanish, using magic and rigorous ritual and absolution of sin) and the other being the isolation of the event. The neurotic (introvert) isolates the traumatic experience whereas the hysteric (extrovert) swallows it up with amnesia. 196 Rowe departs from Freud in defining the subject‟s relationship to power and identity in terms of their gender. Gender does play a role in one‟s identity and experience of the world as Mellencamp sought to expose with Lucy, but while Lucy‟s struggle was cast along gender lines, at its heart was a struggle for identity. In Lucy, desire by the character challenged gender expectations; in her failure to succeed in that struggle she became a comic victim. The comic exists in relation to some „other‟ or in relation to the social as Purdie surmises, but the comic character is genderless.
82 chaos and for extroverts it is abandonment. In response to feelings of “annihilation”
(by either the failure of a goal or the triggering of an unconscious or repressed fear), the individual attempts to control either their environment (introvert) or other people
(extrovert).
The episode of the „The Moon‟ (2:3) from Kath & Kim, provides a means of exploring how an extroverted character like Kim uses relationships to define herself, as well as demonstrating how fear drives her actions, precipitating the need to control and have power over others. We can also observe Sharon‟s attempt to nullify her fear of social humiliation by any means possible, including the surrendering of her power.
To recap, the episode begins with Brett needing to work forty-eight hours straight at the computer city super sell-out sale; cut to Kim prostrate on the couch, feeling abandoned and resentful, she hollers for Sharon to pass the jar of tiny teddies.
It is both the attention Kim craves and the desire to exercise her power over Sharon that feeds her need to nullify the feelings of abandonment she is experiencing with
Brett at work. In the last chapter Sharon pleads with Kim to go to the reunion; Kim rejects her pleas out of the fear of being „„umiliated‟ like last time. We pick up the scene with Sharon, now in the kitchen, she turns to camera and returns to the lounge room: “Oh Kim that was just a few of the girls having a little bit of a joke. They were laughing at you not with you”. Sharon turns and goes back to the kitchen to get more food to sustain her for the battle she knows is to come:
Sharon: Oh come on. Kim: I said I‟d think about it. I have to check out if its okay for the baby to hang around with a bunch of loser girls.
Sharon turns from the fridge.
Sharon: Well what about me, I‟m no loser. Kim: Red hair, no friends. Sharon: Nicole Kidman‟s got friends.
83 Kim: Has she, Sharon? Hey that was my last cheesy stringer. Sharon: Well I didn‟t know. Kim: You bloody never know. Now pass me my drink and then you can go and get my drycleaning. Sharon: Oh no I can‟t Kim, I‟ve actually got a shift at the Repat.
Kim is unamused with this piece of information shifting to a state of feigned helplessness as she attempts to get off the couch in her (only just) pregnant state. In a desperate attempt to please her “master” with the promise of partnering her to the reunion, Sharon agrees to change her work commitment and pick up Kim‟s dry- cleaning. Kim further capitalises on her position: “Good, you can drop me at mum‟s on the way”. As Sharon turns to leave, Kim yells from behind: “Sharon, my bag!”, to which Sharon responds “Oh, sorry Kim”. She goes to pick up the bag, falling in behind Kim as Kim marches off screen right.
In this scene Sharon uses both food and the primary processes – displacing
Kim‟s suggestion of her lack of popularity by referring to her own Ego-Ideal of
Nicole Kidman through the shared feature of red hair – as defences in the vitriol and sustained abuse by Kim. As Kim defines herself through her relationships we now see that Sharon also needs Kim to nullify her own fears of looking like a loser (confirmed by her plea to Kim). Kim uses both Sharon‟s desire and fear to manipulate Sharon to nullify her own fears (of abandonment) that have been triggered by Brett‟s inability to be available to her. Her fears precipitate her actions and drive a need for power. While
Kim‟s fear may be to some degree unconscious, her manipulation of Sharon is deliberate and conscious. However, Sharon is driven by the simple, but conscious need to avoid social humiliation and in the process surrenders to Kim‟s manipulation.
Rowe further demonstrates that adult behaviour is shaped by infantile experiences and adult relationships are replicas of the power games learnt and
84 experienced in familial relationships.197 An event may trigger fear, but relationships can also be a way to maintain and gain power over others. Rowe writes: “Powerful people may be effective in controlling their own fear, but they establish and maintain their power by creating fear in others”.198 As we just saw, Kim uses Sharon‟s fear to exercise her power over Sharon, driven partly by the need to nullify her own fear.
Rowe gives us a paradigm through which to ascertain how the character will attempt to achieve in external reality and how they will respond when faced with the threat of annihilation of the self. It begs the question, does the introvert suffer more from experiences of chaos and the extrovert from experiences of abandonment? We can surmise from Rowe that type is pre-determined and behaviour disorders are the result of ego maturation; regardless, repressed fear, borne of type or trauma, when triggered, drives the subject to extreme behaviour.
In the Fawlty Towers episode titled „The Hotel Inspectors‟ (1:4), Basil and
Sybil compete with each other in trying to determine which of the guests are the three hotel inspectors they have been tipped off are visiting the region. Sybil, much to
Basil‟s delight, has a rare clash with reality as she struggles to satisfy the increasingly petulant demands of a spoon salesman in case he is one of the inspectors. Basil is determined to find the real inspector amongst his guests in order to try to prove, yet again, his worth and skill as a manager and hence his superiority over Sybil. In the final scene, feeling frustrated and losing his patience with the spoon salesman, after realising that he is in fact not the inspector, Basil bids him goodbye with a pie in the face and another in the crotch, while Manuel pours a jug of milk into his briefcase.
His goal of finding the inspector has been thwarted by this petulant “impostor”. Basil
197 Dorothy Rowe, My Dearest Enemy My Dangerous Friend: making and breaking sibling bonds, as before. 198 Dorothy Rowe, Beyond Fear, as before, p. 73.
85 has been driven to extreme behaviour that constitutes his greatest fear, chaos. But the worst is yet to come. When Basil returns to the reception desk, he addresses the gentlemen standing there who have witnessed the preceding events: “Now what can I do for you three gentlemen?”At that moment he realises that they are the inspectors and the full force of his humiliation comes to fruition. His response is one of agony and pain. As an introvert Basil has failed in achieving his goal (by his own means), triggering a fear determinant that drives extreme behaviour, resulting in both chaos and degradation.
Fear may provoke the character to act in ways to defend against chaos or social humiliation, but the comic character‟s narcissistic identity is a source of power and must be maintained at all costs. In the last chapter I argued that the ego instantiates comic degradation. I further argued that the attachment to an object or idealisation of how the character views themself is a source of power. It is the attachment to an object or idea that feeds the character‟s narcissism, resulting ultimately in the degradation. The character‟s need for power is initiated by a repressed and therefore unconscious fear, borne of a response to dangers from both pre-existing memories emanating from an external source, as well as the internal drives; these determinants of fear account for extreme behaviour akin to personality disorders that we have seen contribute to the comic character. I now contend that the fear repressed by the ego shapes the character‟s behaviour which then enables the degradation.
This chapter aims to determine how fear drives the character to act in extreme ways. To do so it becomes necessary to understand the comic character as shaped by type as well as by the repressed and unconscious fears emanating from an arrested ego
86 maturation that result in narcissistic personality disorders.199 I do not see it as simply a matter of slapping a narcissistic „identity‟ onto a character along with attendant unconscious fears; rather it is about understanding that it is the incompatibility of the character‟s conscious desires to achieve in the social, coupled with unconscious fears that drive him/her to act in extreme ways further producing repeated behaviour that enables the degradation and further maintains the entrapment.
For characters such as Kim and Basil their sense of self is primarily shaped by a narcissistic idealisation generated by a fear that they will be frustrated in achieving their goals. Their identity is shaped by a combination of conscious desire and unconscious fear, coupled with the (preconscious) fear of failing in the external world.
When their narcissistic sense of self is threatened, they experience it as a form of annihilation. While narcissism drives desire, it is fear and resulting powerlessness that account for extreme behaviour. Such behaviour I offer gives rise to a dynamic centred on power that is then sought in the social.
II – The key character‟s struggle for power.
In Chapter One, I argued that the key sitcom character is caught in a struggle between their narcissistic Ego-Ideal and an „Other‟. Their narcissistic identity is both a defence and a source of power. I also argued that the key character attempts to leave the
Imaginary and to realise a symbolic Ego-Ideal but, in failing, they suffer (comic) degradation. If the subject‟s Ego-Ideal is in line with the collective/social Ego-Ideal
199 While this study is not about defining absolute traits of the character, it is worth asking if the key character is predominantly an introvert or extrovert in order to determine what drives them to achieve in the social. This then gives an indication of not only their actions in achieving their goals but also how they will respond when their desire is threatened. Kath is a good example of Rowe‟s description of an introvert: the need to keep everything progressing, to have a sense of achievement which includes some sense of tidying and having order. See pp. 499-504, Beyond Fear, as before. I contend that Basil is an introvert and Kim an extrovert. In doing so I seek to demonstrate how fear instantiates their behaviour and treatment of others. It is the character‟s behaviour, driven by their need to define themselves coupled with the unconscious and repressed fears, when triggered result in extreme (comic) behaviour.
87 the subject is able to function and prosper. But if the subject‟s Ego-Ideal is at odds with the collective Ego-Ideal (or that of the „other‟) they become a „divided‟ self seeking unification. The key character is caught in the duality of their fundamental desire to achieve and maintain an identity in the external world, but is prevented from doing so for reasons that are unknown to them. They are shaped by a need for power through that identity, but now we see that they also respond (out of fear) to any threat to that identity.
Let‟s return to „The Moon‟ to further explore how Kim deals with her need for power over others while also facing her fear of looking like a loser. Sharon‟s desperate and lonely “Cinderella” is rescued by an old school friend, Lisa Marie
Birkenshtock who arrives in town to attend the school reunion. Lisa Marie is intent on repaying her gratitude to Sharon for her friendship when she first arrived at
Fountaingate High as a migrant. Kim asks: “Was she that fat kid who couldn‟t speak
English?”. Lisa Marie‟s arrival not only gives Sharon respectable status at the reunion
(she now has a friend) but, more significantly, she no longer needs Kim. The power centre has shifted. Kim is now conflicted as to whether she should go (recognising it may alter her power over Sharon). She is faced with the prospect of another act of abandonment when she discovers that Kath and Kel will also be away on the same
Saturday night, exclaiming despairingly: “I can‟t spend Saturday night on my own, what would that look like”. Like Sharon, Kim doesn‟t want to be seen as a “loser”.
Social humiliation is like “death” for both Sharon and Kim. In contrast to Kim,
Sharon is driven by her desire to have friends rather than her fear of looking like a loser; that is why she is so active in ensuring she has someone to go with to the reunion. Her desire is simply to be accepted by the “tribe”. Kim‟s desire is to be seen as a popular fashionista and hornbag. As a narcissistic extrovert Kim expects those
88 around her to maintain her self-image, taking no responsibility for it herself. She depends on, and expects the environment to maintain her social status. While Kim maintains her power over Sharon through the shared fear of social shame, she does so, not to have friends, but rather to nullify her own fears.
Sometimes Kim is forced to take action. For example, she decides to go to the reunion and declares to Sharon, who is out sightseeing with Lisa Maire, on her voicemail that she will now be attending the reunion and furthermore that she intends to wear an outfit that will “wipe the floor”, thus reaffirming her (self-conceived) superior status as a fashionista. Sharon‟s eager response to chaperone Lisa Marie around town further indicates her primary desire is to simply be accepted by an
„other‟, overriding her fear of looking like a loser. My question here concerns the unconsciousness of Sharon‟s fear as the basis for Kim‟s manipulation of her.
Earlier in the episode, Sharon is at the shopping mall wearing an eye-patch and running errands for Kim who constantly rings her mobile with additional tasks.
Because of the eye-patch, Sharon accidentally picks up the wrong drycleaning, delivering to Kim a pair of Collette Dinnigan (designer) knickerbockers. In desperately trying to please Kim along with Kim‟s constant interruptions, Sharon is in a constant state of anxiety. Sharon does not seek to achieve a goal, rather she seeks simply to be accepted and recognised by Kim. However what becomes apparent is that it is the state of anxiety elicited by Kim that contributes to Sharon‟s confusion when picking up the drycleaning – a major factor in Kim‟s humiliation when she does go to the reunion. The dynamic of the relationship appears to create a reciprocity of fear resulting in actions that contribute to Kim‟s exposition. Through the desire to please her master Sharon has introjected Kim‟s fear.
89 I have argued that the key character is trapped in a perpetual struggle, which I now contend is a struggle for power, emanating from a permanent state of fear or anxiety. In highlighting that the nature of a character‟s attachment to the love-object determines the nature of their fear, I now examine the notion that such characters develop a narcissistic identity in order to be loved by their love-object. My aim is to elucidate how the key character sits precariously between the need for power through a narcissistic identity, and an unconscious disempowerment that maintains a dyadic relationship, which results in behaviour that prevents their entry into the Symbolic.
III – The key character‟s disempowerment.
The first object of desire is to be recognised by the other.
[Susan Purdie quoting Lacan, Comedy: The Mastery of Discourse, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), p.169.]
As mentioned, in the „Inhibition‟ paper Freud distinguishes between objective fear and neurotic fear. Objective fear is the response to an objective danger occurring in the external world; neurotic fear is the response to a fear posed by the drives, with no definite object. While Freud‟s aim is to understand each type of fear in order to treat the neurotic fear as if it were objective fear, I seek to delineate the two. I argue that such delineation assists in defining the root of the comic character‟s responses to certain situations, in particular their entrapment through disempowering relationships.
In differentiating between the two states of fear Freud writes: “fear is therefore on the one hand the expectation of future trauma, and on the other a repetition of past trauma in a mild form”.200 In the expectation of future trauma there is no object, but in
200 Freud, „Inhibition, Symptom and Fear‟, as before, pp. 234-5. He writes “the ego, having experienced the trauma passively, non actively repeats a reproduction of it in diluted form, in the hope of being able
90 the experience of a past trauma there is an object, which is then transferred, this being the basis of symptom-formation. If fear is the response to a danger posed by the external world, then anxiety, having no definite object, emanates from the drives.
Anxiety is internalised.
I now return to the myth to further examine the psychic construction of
Narcissus and Echo in order to better understand their behaviour in terms of power. I offer that fear, in having an object, renders the character powerless and anxiety, in having no object, results in feelings of disempowerment.
In the myth Echo has been disembodied by the fury of her mother. In light of
Rowe‟s assertion that fear engenders anger I suggest that Hera is angry at not only
Zeus and his adultery, but she is afraid of losing his love. Her fear becomes anger, which she then takes out on Echo. Echo, now disembodied, seeks a voice through an
„other‟. She surrenders her (wounded) ego to Narcissus. In response Narcissus flees.
He can only love himself. His mother, having been rejected by Narcissus‟ father, now gazes on his beauty. The narcissist is trapped in the „gaze‟ of his/her besotted abandoned mother and, feeling powerless, retreats from the relationship. S/he seeks
(self) power in the external world (as the ambitious hunter). Echo‟s experience is provoked by anger, rather than by a smothering love, and in attempting to reobtain the love of the mother she is beset by anxiety.201 Echo seeks to be loved by the love- object. Any relationship between Narcissus and his/her Echo would therefore be
to keep control of the way it [the situation] evolves”. This he sees as similar to children‟s play as a means of dealing with and mastering traumatic events. The subject repeats the situation in order to master a memory of unconscious/repressed trauma. 201 Kernberg writes that it is the lack of integration of “good” and “bad” objects that determines psychic construction of borderline conditions. Good and bad objects and their introjection can come from either the mother or the father and can be merged into a mother-father figure. The ego fails to integrate. The result is that the super-ego also fails to integrate, making it difficult for the subject to discern certain realities. Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, as before.
91 based on a dynamic centred on fear – her fear of not being “seen” and his fear of losing power or being rendered powerless through a relationship.202
Encouraged by Kath to buy the puffy-sleeved blouse that clearly makes her look bigger, Kim could be seen to be disempowered by Kath. Kim maintains her sense of superiority in the narcissistic belief that she is „master of her world‟ despite the ongoing psychological word battle with Kath and her running commentary about her daughter‟s appearance or lack of initiative. Kim needs the approval of Kath and is conflicted between how she sees herself and the not too subtle criticisms offered by
Kath. Kim in this sense is an echo to Kath‟s narcissism.
This point differentiates personality disorders from the personality types we examined earlier. Type does not generate the disorder. Rather, it comes from the ego‟s
(in)ability to mature as determined by the environment in which it exists. Both narcissism and echoism result from trauma experienced in early ego maturation. If the individual‟s experience is to have power then, they expect it like the narcissistic Kath, but if the individual‟s experience is to be disempowered like the echoistic Sharon, then they expect to have none.
In returning to Kath & Kim, we can observe what happens when Echo decides to leave and pursue her own “voice”. At the reunion Kim and Sharon‟s new “best friend”, the grateful and now sycophantic, Lisa Marie, argue over who looked like
202 I would define echoing as playing the role that enables the narcissistic desire of an „other‟. I would further suggest that if an unresolved/unknown Oedipus complex lies as the heart of narcissism, then a “Jocasta complex” lies at the heart of echoism – where a person surrenders their own narcissism to an „other‟. As noted in Chapter One, echoistic traits might include fear of abandonment and low self- esteem, but they may also include the need to mother those around them, either as forms of ego defence or to relieve the anxiety of not being loved. As an unresolved Oedipus complex results in (to varying degrees) childish and despotic behaviour, an echo complex may generate behaviour that is reflective of the roles of Jocasta: Queen, wife and mother, reinforced by the mother‟s love of the son. In becoming a complex, the “echoistic” individual could then present as a shadow Queen, devouring mother and/or harradine wife. I offer that such individuals seek power through others as a personality disorder, rather than as a type, such as the extrovert. Furthermore, I view echoism as the flip side of narcissism rather than as part of the narcissistic continuum as borderline personality conditions are defined.
92 „Frieda‟ and who looked like „Agnetha‟, from ABBA, during their school days. Kim is losing the battle for Sharon and she knows it. She is set to leave and expects Sharon to follow, but Sharon, encouraged by Lisa Marie, wants to stay at the party. Kim can feel the ground shifting. The final blow comes when Sharon, again encouraged by
Lisa Marie, announces that Lisa Marie wants to take her back to the Gold Coast to
“realise her dream of becoming an Olympic athlete”. Kim storms off. Sharon follows her out into the night, where they face each other.
Kim: Some second best friend you turned out to be. I can‟t believe you are leaving me in my condition, the one time I ask you to do something for me.
Cut to mid close-up of Sharon with Kim extreme left of frame:
Sharon: But Kim this is my big chance. Lisa Marie feels like she owes me. She says I‟ve been like a rock to her.
Two-shot, zooming in to a close-up of Kim:
Kim: But you are my rock.
Cut back to Sharon who is now struggling to maintain her friendship with Kim as well as hold onto the opportunity offered by Lisa Marie:
Sharon: Yeah well now I‟m Lisa‟s rock as well.
Cut to close-up of Kim, who is getting agitated.
Kim: Well how many people‟s rocks are you?
Back to a medium two-shot, Kim is left of frame as Sharon, still attempting to placate
Kim, goes on:
Sharon: Well I‟m your rock; I‟m Lisa‟s rock; I‟m your mum‟s rock sometimes [shot zooms in]; Kel says I‟m a good stick, which is kind of like a rock.
Cut to a medium two-shot, zooming into a close-up as Kim‟s anger finally erupts:
Kim: Well I don‟t think that makes you a rock Sharon, I reckon that makes you gravel.
93 Sharon is stunned and deeply hurt by the venom and ferocity of this remark. They continue on in a volley of name-calling: Kim yelling “gravel”, Sharon retaliating with
“Frieda, Frieda”. Kim is angry because she is losing her source of power. After a number of rounds, Lisa Marie calls from deep background and, in a nod to soap opera,
Sharon turns and says with great emotion: “Goodbye Kim”. Cut to Kim in close-up, she flicks her hair and storms off into the night. While Kim is doing all she can by using guilt and abuse to stop Sharon leaving, Sharon has been fighting for her own sense of “self”, as unrealistic as that may be.
The conflict has arisen because Sharon now seeks her own identity but she is also afraid of being rejected by Kim. This echo-slave character has had her sense of self “stirred‟ – she is being offered not only her dream but an identity. It is a tenet of screenwriting to identify what the character is attached to as well as what they fear, and you find how to make them fight. I offer that it is when a character that was an
“echo” obtains a voice that a power struggle begins.203 While Sharon needs Kim to be her friend, Kim needs Sharon to “be there for her”; this echo-slave feeds not only
Kim‟s identity, and need for power, and in doing so staves off her fear of abandonment – but at the expense of Sharon‟s own dreams and desires. What Sharon is not aware of (as becomes evident in the scene above) is that Kim only sees her in terms of how the relationship benefits Kim. Narcissism is supported by an identity that can only exist in a dyadic relationship.
The next day Kim is forced to reflect on her behaviour:
Kim: Yep, I now realise I didn‟t treat Sharon the way I should have. I mean calling her a great bloody oaf, maybe she didn‟t like that.
203 This leads me to ask does a series “begin” when the “echo” aspect of the character begins to stir? When the character experiences a change in their “situation” such as a new job or marriage that shifts the power dynamics with other characters? The key character/s seeks to master that shift. Exploring this point may assist in further locating the key character and their relationships.
94
But only to the degree that her narcissistic ego can bear:
Kim (cont.): I didn‟t know, she didn‟t say anything.
Kim does not alter her behaviour or the fragile self-image she has of herself and her capabilities, in fact she denies it. As a „master‟ she is unable to see the impact of her own behaviour and its consequences; she is forced to reflect on it only when her echo-slave leaves. Now we see the degree to which Kim‟s sense of self and identity is also defined through others. Kim may feel abandoned, but when Sharon seeks an identity, Kim is angry because it threatens her self-image. Kim‟s identity, mediated through her relationship with Sharon, has been altered and more importantly her source of power has gone. Sharon is driven by a desire to be loved and to some extent succeed in her dream. Kim is driven by the need to have those around her serve her needs and maintain an identity – at all costs. Relationships in sitcoms are dyadic centred on desire and fear that result in a power struggle. The „master‟ actively uses power over the „slave‟, commonly through fear, to maintain their subservience.
In the final scene, Kim, now depressed, begins to heat a plate of footy franks
(small continental sausages made from processed meat). This causes Kath to shriek in horror at the thought of what such food will do to Kim‟s weight: “Eating footy franks won‟t bring Sharon back”. Having been rendered powerless by the loss of Sharon,
Kim is now disempowered in the gaze of Kath, reinforcing her depression. Suddenly the sliding door to the patio opens and Sharon stands there. The air is tense, wafting with the smell of footy franks, but also pregnant with the hope that Sharon has returned. Kath bustles herself and Brett off to leave Kim and Sharon alone like long lost lovers.
95 Kim offers Sharon a footy frank. Sharon pauses to digest the generous and unusual gesture by Kim. Suddenly she rushes toward the bowl grabbing one like a dog being given its bone. The camera holds them in a two-shot. It‟s a delicate situation for Kim and we want her to handle it carefully:
Kim: What are you doing here? Sharon (eating hungrily): I‟ve left Lisa. Kim: What happened?
The mid-shot sways gently like a boat on the harbour.
Sharon: I just couldn‟t handle it. Kim: Why? Sharon: Quite frankly I didn‟t care for the way she spoke to me. Kim: Like what, what did she say? Sharon: Oh you know, she was always on and on at me about how talented I am, and how my friends don‟t appreciate me.
Close-up on Kim who is beginning to feel the weather change:
Kim: That does sound weird. Sharon: So I hightailed it out of there and came straight back here.
There is a pause as Sharon “confesses”; she looks up at Kim with doleful eyes:
Sharon (cont): I missed you Kim.
We want Kim to be nice. Close up of Kim as she digests the confession, but more significantly her “win”. Kim pauses as Sharon goes for a handful of footy franks.
Suddenly Sharon stops, looking like a naughty child caught with her hand in the lolly jar. The storm breaks:
Kim: Put that back, I said one. I‟ve got morning sickness. Sharon: Well I didn‟t know. Kim: You never bloody do.
Kim launches into the familiar tirade of abuse and name-calling. They revert to hurling nonsensical sibling abuse at each other; Kath finally steps in to break it up:
96 Kath: Time out time out please. Now Kimmie look at moiye please – look at moiye – now Sharon look at moiye – now Kim look at Sharon – Sharon look at Kim. Now both look at moiye please. Now I‟ve got one word to say to both of you: reconciliation.
As much as Kim‟s identity is tied to Sharon, we now see that Sharon‟s identity is tied to Kim. Further she does not seek to change the dynamics; in fact she seeks comfort from being treated with such sustained verbal abuse. Sharon is afraid of achieving her Ego-Ideal because, like Echo, her sense of self has been constructed in a state of disempowerment. She knows no other way. Sharon felt weird at the treatment accorded to her by Lisa Marie and so rejected the potential to achieve her Ego-Ideal and its power. In fearing her own power she surrenders her narcissism to Kim. As an echo Sharon simply seeks to be loved by her narcissistic master. Her comicality comes from the gap between how she sees herself and how others see her and use her.
Sharon is a sad figure, formed by her conscious fear of having no friends and an unconscious desire to be loved (and too afraid to expect it), with the attendant fear that she is not loved or even liked.
While narcissism drives the need for power, in the process disempowering others, echoism drives the need to simply be seen and accepted.204 Kim demonstrates that the “narcissistic” comic character seeks power to nullify any threat to their identity and goals, but now we see that she too is trapped in the (literal) gaze of Kath:
“look at moiye, look at moiye”. As mentioned, I contend that Kim seeks to be recognised by Kath. Thus, it could be argued, that Kim‟s psychic construction is
204 This captures the dichotomy of many theorists, in particular Freud and Winnicott, and their differentiation that the narcissist suffers from having too much love (or power) or not enough. Echoism occurs from not having had enough love (or power). This chapter has argued that it is the subject‟s experience of power that shapes psychic construction. If echoism is a form of arrested narcissism, while the traits may be different, it could be suggested that both echoes and narcissists are driven by a need for power.
97 based in echoism while her narcissism is a form of ego defence as a means of protection from the disempowering gaze of Kath. We have seen that narcissism is the process of identity construction set up as a defence to an ego suffering from too much or too little love. The question then becomes why does Sharon not develop a similar form of ego defence? In attempting to nullify the powerlessness emanating from the gaze, the narcissist is driven by a desire for power in the external world through objects or relationships or both. The echoist seeks simply to nullify their fear of disempowerment in the gaze of the narcissist. Sharon accepts that she has no power.
Kim‟s ego defence may be borne of a conscious fear of being rendered powerless. But it is apparent that she is unconscious of not only her echoism but the relational dynamic that disempowers her. I contend that echoistic comic characters are trapped by their unconscious fears but comic characters driven by a narcissistic desire, while using fear to manipulate others, are undone by their repressed and unconscious fears in their pursuit of power. When the narcissistic comic character‟s fear is triggered, they seek power in the form of „objects‟. As we have seen, it is those objects that are their undoing. In those moments, such characters have been disempowered. This is the nature of their degradation.
In observing how Kim and Basil use others and the environment to nullify feelings of powerlessness, I now offer that their behaviour is borne of unresolved and repressed oedipal conflicts that are then played out in their relationships with an
„other‟. Lucy was not recognised by either the subjective „other‟ (Ricky) or the symbolic „Other‟; denying that Ricky believed she was not talented, she set out to prove that wrong, completely unaware that his view was reinforced by the „Other‟.205
205 This is what I see as the cleverness of Lucy. This character is a good example of the duality and tension of narcissistic desire and echoistic entrapment. What Lucy reflects is the double bind of desire and entrapment that women felt at the time, which is what I think Mellencamp sought to do by reading
98 Lucy is blind to the disempowering „Other‟ as well as „other‟. Kim and Basil are also disempowered by an unknowable „other‟; both attempt to escape the entrapment and its disempowering effect through a narcissistic identity. A narcissistic comic character like Pauly simply thinks the world is there to serve his needs, hence my view that he is not a key character, rather a main character as there is no relational „other‟.
Characters like Basil and Kim are wounded narcissists, who suffer from an unacknowledged pain of longing and powerlessness that feed their Ego-Ideals. I contend that Basil, Kim and Lucy have constructed identities that serve to garner the recognition of the „other‟, driving their need to be recognised by some „Other‟ in the social. These characters attempt to define themselves in the social (desire). I now offer that they are unable to because they are trapped in a dynamic based on the fear of not being recognised by the love-object (lack). It is the desire to be loved (and recognised) by the love-object that drives the key character and shapes their
(narcissistic) identity.
Characters are driven by a combination of desire and lack but in attempting to maintain the love of the love-object, the key character in a sitcom remains trapped in a dynamic determined by (unconscious) anxiety. It is the lack of love and/or recognition that disempowers them, thus entrapping them; their disempowerment precipitates both their narcissism and their entrapment. I argued in the last chapter that desire instantiates the gaze. We now see that the key character‟s entrapment is maintained by the fear that such desire will not be gratified. I extend the definition of the key character as a „divided self‟ trapped in the gaze of an (unknowable) „other‟ as „Other‟, to now say that the key character is not only unconscious, they are unaware of the
the program and character through feminist ideology (and its cry for empowerment becoming a desire for power). Mellencamp is unable to offer a solution to that tension – a tension that has long affected women and continues to do so.
99 dynamic that renders them unconscious because it is unknowable – and as such creates a psychic tension that the character attempts to alleviate. In failing to do so, they become comic.
What this chapter has demonstrated is that while the key character may be conscious of their (narcissistic) desire and goal, they are simultaneously shaped by unconscious fears that undo them. In the next chapter, I examine the episode titled
„Writer‟s Block‟ from Acropolis Now (1:11) to argue that the key character‟s narcissism forces them to respond to moments that threaten their sense of self. In what follows I investigate both the character‟s response to moments of tension and how such behaviour generates the narrative structure; further how the social precipitates their struggle and ultimately their perpetual entrapment. This chapter has demonstrated how an unconscious and repressed fear, borne of narcissistic desire, can precipitate the key character‟s actions that lead to their comic degradation because they are blind to the echoistic dynamics of their situation. We now ask of the key character: by whom do they seek to be recognised? Furthermore, what relationships disempower them?
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CHAPTER THREE
Tension: the character, their narrative and its frame.
Narrative can be understood as the recounting of two or more events (or a situation and an event) that are logically connected, occur over time and are linked by a consistent subject into a whole.
[Robert Stam et al. New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics: Structuralism, Post-Structuralism and Beyond (London and New York: Routledge, 1992), p. 69.]
In Chapter One I demonstrated that the comic character‟s unconscious is generated by an arrested or wounded narcissism that shapes their identity and desires. I argued that the key character‟s entrapment is a struggle for identity in the gaze of an unknown
„Other‟. In Chapter Two I examined the response of the key character when their narcissistic identity is threatened; in the face of annihilation they act in extreme ways and in so doing become comic. In striving to be recognised by the „Other‟, I argued that the key character not only suffers degradation, but in the process is disempowered. The key character is shaped by a combination of narcissistic desire and echoistic disempowerment of which they are unaware. This chapter aims to understand the comic operation of the sitcom at the level of the narrative in order to determine how the plot reinforces the key character‟s psychic tension that enables
101 comicality. I will then explore the relationship between the social hegemony within which the program sits, to offer that social discourses are delivered through the narrative, further „containing‟ the character. I contend that when the character attempts to transgress „discursive frames‟ they become comic. This chapter sets out to understand the nature of the struggle of the key character/s in the sitcom in relationship to a hegemonic discourse, as an „Other‟, which is then delivered through the narrative.
One of the main characteristics of the sitcom is its unique narrative structure.
Beyond its half-hour time-limit, the sitcom is commonly distinguished from drama or soap-opera by having what is described as a closed or “circular” narrative structure.206
The traditional sitcom episode is a stand-alone entity and does not depend on a sequential order within a series. Regardless of shooting style or the use of extended storylines, there is no change to the characters, their relationships or the situation.
Narrative theory explores the relationship between character actions, traits and story and how together they enable the narrative structure. If the narrative is the sum of the character‟s actions, then this chapter seeks to understand how the key character generates the unique shape.
Using narrative theory to read Acropolis Now (ATN 7 1989), I examine the plot points where the character‟s actions advance the narrative and follow with an analysis of the choices made by the character at those points. I then plot those points graphically to demonstrate its circular shape. I regard Acropolis Now as having the most “narrative” text of the three Australian programs discussed in this study. By
206 Many craft texts on screenwriting are useful in determining the structure of a sitcom script to demonstrate the need for both the build up of tension through “beats” to enable comicality and the return to the point at which it began. They demonstrate that the narrative, triggered by an inciting incident that causes a disruption to the status quo, must return to the point at which it began. However, no texts explore how this pattern or structure relates to the character, their behaviour or motivation.
102 narrative I mean that it has the highest level of integration between character and events.207 By contrast, character driven programs such as Pizza rely on extreme performance to maintain the energy of the program more than the story, while Kath &
Kim relies on both comic performance and the interaction between the characters and narrative events to realise those moments, as we saw in Chapter Two. In this chapter,
I list the plot points of that episode to demonstrate that the closed shape of Kath &
Kim is more dependent on contrived occurrences than Acropolis Now.
I work from two screenwriting craft principles:
1. that the story, a précis of the inciting incident, needs to be logical,
(and is not necessarily funny).208
2. the story “beats” generate the build up of (comic) tension.209
Further, I maintain that the character determines the plot and that the character‟s choices must not only be logical, they must also inform the dramatic principles of increasing tension through the narrative.210 In demonstrating that the narrative forces
207 Having argued that the character sits at the heart of this form of comedy, I take the view that plot is the result of character rather than see the character as an actant on the story. Some sitcoms do - Kath & Kim and Pizza are good examples - where the narrative is progressed by forcing actions on the character rather than as a result of their choices, but this chapter attempts to demonstrate that comic tension and longevity of a program is increased by a greater relationship between character and plot. 208 Jim Cook, „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟, Cook, Jim (ed), Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17, (London: BFI, 1982:13-18). 209 There are numerous books on how to write a sitcom. All argue for the need for tension as the basis for comicality. See Evan Smith, Writing Television Sitcoms, (New York: Perigee Book, 1999), Linda Seger, Making a Good Script Great, (Hollywood: Samuel French, 1987) as well as Lajos Egri, The Art of Dramatic Writing, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2004) and Jurgen Wolff, Successful Sitcom Writing, (New York: St. Martin‟s Press, 1996). 210 Evan Smith offers that “all theories of laughter, and all laughter stimuli, seem to depend on an underlying process of establishing, building and then releasing tension: incongruity creates comedic tension. A surprise twist releases tension. Truth and aggression increase tension. Brevity brings tension into high relief”. Smith observes that comedic tension is built up in dramatic narrative by putting pressure on the threat of loss of some desire. Threat of loss or desire we have seen is a driver for the key character, in particular if it threatens their sense of self and identity. Writing Television Sitcoms, as before, p.18. Smith‟s approach is different from other screen writing texts by recognising that tension enables comicality in particular through the premise of the story. As such he takes a more formalist view: characters and plot are at the service of the story. Smith also articulates that tension is also enabled through the “situation”, the characters themselves and their relationship to each other including the classic comic conflicts (such as youth vs. age, authority vs. worker, male vs. female, rich vs. poor). For him conflict can be increased by the premise being based on an inherent predicament. He lists
103 the character to return to the re-situation, we see that the narrative contains the character by means of some threat to their narcissistic identity.
Lisa Trahair, in her text The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in
Early Cinematic Slapstick, demonstrates that comicality is enabled through the tension arising between the pleasure principle and primary processes that drive the character, in opposition to the reality principle that comes to bear on the character through the narrative.211 Extending Trahair‟s work, I explore the key character‟s engagement with the world at hand, in other words, the film‟s „diegetic reality‟ to argue that the key character‟s narcissism enables them to deny aspects of a reality or
“truth” that does not accord with their desires or goals. I suggest that their denial, borne of their attachment to a narcissistic idealisation, enables the character to make choices that maintain that idealisation. I now argue it is those choices that determine the shape of the plot. Trahair‟s work sets up further examination on the nature of the diegetic reality.
I examine the relationship between themes and narrative enigmas that guide a series and its episodes to illustrate that the more the enigma produces tension (within the key character, between characters and the world around them), the greater the opportunity for repeated comicality; we see that the narrative is also a means through which social „frames‟ can be delivered. This assists in both locating the key character as well as reading the key character in relationship to the social. In doing so, we find a source of tension that further accounts for the comicality of the character.212
some predicaments: The Big Lie, The Big secret, The Misunderstanding etc. (see pp. 27-32). They are story based not series based and are formulaic. He articulates the process and essential elements rather than seek to understand the underlying dynamics. 211 Lisa Trahair, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2007). 212 While camera shots underscore key moments , I will draw little attention to the use of shots in this chapter to keep the focus on narrative and character relationship.
104 Using Umberto Eco‟s notion that social „frames‟ determine comic effect, I read the containment of the key character in terms of their relationship to a „discursive frame‟ – where the character is defined by a social discourse that seeks to contain them, and with which they are at odds – to demonstrate that the key character‟s comicality is derived from their relationship to a frame borne of a social hegemony.213
In viewing the narrative structure as a kind of frame that contains the character and impacts on their personality disorder and its consequences in the social realm, the question that becomes pertinent is how the audience experiences other framing devices which open the diegetic world to social reference. Determining the limits of previously “unseen” frames that artificially contain or define us will allow us to interpret the progressive, and possibly even subversive elements of the sitcom.
I – The key character and their plot.
Narrative analysis traditionally endeavours to disclose the deep structural patterning beneath the surface features of the artefact.
[Robert Stam et al. New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics: Structuralism, Post-Structuralism and Beyond, as before, p. 75]
While the study of narrative is broad and multifaceted, most studies have focussed on literary and film examples. With the exception of the work of Frank Krutnik, Jim
Cook, Eaton, Neale and Terry Lovell there has been little narratological analysis of television, or the sitcom in particular.214
213 Umberto Eco, „The frames of comic „freedom‟‟ in (ed.)Thomas A. Sebeok, Carnival!, (Berlin: Mouton Publishers, 1984). 214 Steve Neale and Frank Krutnik, Popular Film and Television Comedy, (London: Routledge, 1990). Jim Cook, „Narrative, Comedy, Character and Performance‟, as before and Terry Lovell, „A Genre of Social Disruption?‟ pp.19-31, both in Jim Cook (ed), Television Sitcom: BFI Dossier no. 17, (London: BFI, 1982). Mick Eaton, „Television Situation Comedy‟, Popular Television and Film, (London: BFI Open University Press, 1981: 26-52). Sarah Kozloff notes that as far as she is aware only Greimas‟
105 Narrative theory encompasses a broad range of study with narratologists developing various approaches. Aspects such as story, character, setting, narrator, narrate and discourse, are examined within and across various modes and genres of literature and film. This section sets out to elucidate how the character may determine, and be determined by, the narrative.
There are essentially two schools of narrative theory: formalist and structuralist. Formalist analysis aims to understand the components of a story (the fabula) and its plot (suzjet), while a structuralist reading sets out to understand the signs and meaning within, or across the narrative as a whole.215 Narrative theory is divided on the issue of story vs. plot. Some theorists view causality as inherent to the plot while others view narrative as enabled by the reader through engagement with the story.216
Seymour Chatman‟s book, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in
Fiction and Film, aims to identify the common traits of narratives and their mythological function in society.217 He questions whether narrative can proceed on the basis of stylistic variation rather than by way of story actions, arguing that “what is important to a general theory of narrative is not the precise linguistic manifestation but rather the story logic”.218 Chatman writes:
schema have been applied to TV, „Narrative Theory and Television‟ in Channels of Discourse, Reassembled, (ed. Robert Allen. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1992), p. 72. 215 Signs and meanings are shaped by convention and imagination. Mieke Bal, Narratology. Introduction to the Theory of Narrative, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2004), p. 79. 216 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1978), p. 45. 217 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film as before. John Fiske takes a similar approach in his text Television Culture, where he determines the underlying structure that defines the characteristics of television drama, (London and New York: Methuen, 1987). 218 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film, as before, p.45.
106 It has been argued, since Aristotle, that events in narratives are radically correlative, enchaining, entailing. Their sequence, runs the traditional argument, is not simply linear but causative. The causation may be overt, that is explicit, or covert, implicit.219
In trying to formulate a modern theory of narrative, Chatman attempts to encompass all forms of narrative from the causal nature of plot to the revelatory nature of story and discourse. Causal plots are driven by character action in response to events. Revealed plots centre on a problem posed by the story that enables information to be revealed; in such narratives events play a stronger role than character.220 Regardless of the type of plot, Chatman focuses on the character‟s engagement with the story, arguing that our minds seek structure and will fill any gaps that exist between plot points. For him plot involves causation: character and plot inform story and vice versa. Thus, he asks what comes first, character or trait.
By demonstrating that traits must hold and be exposed through the character,
Chatman argues that “the traits exist at the story level: indeed, the whole discourse is expressly designed to prompt their emergence in the reader‟s consciousness”.221
Discourse in this context is used to describe how the story is told. The trait of the character is exposed through the story. Chatman‟s aim is to depict the narrative as a series of plot points that differentiate how the character engages with the story. He labels these plot points kernels and satellites, both of which are similar to what craft
219 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film, as before, p.45. 220 Amy McWilliams writes that most sitcoms “follow a problem/resolution format, with a secret/revelation being the most common variation”, within the traditional plotting techniques of exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, conclusion. She argues that Seinfeld both utilised these conventions and broke audience expectations of them, which is what differentiated it from the traditional single plot sitcom. „Genre Expectation and Narrative Innovation in Seinfeld‟ in Seinfeld: Master of Its Domain. Revisiting Television‟s Greatest Sitcom. (ed. David Lavery with Sara Lewis Dunne. New York and London: Continuum, 2006), p. 80. 221 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film, as before, pp. 122-126.
107 books on screenwriting call “beats”.222 Chatman‟s analysis of narrative is distinct from the latter, however, in that his beats carry with them an expectation of change in either the situation or the character, and his interest is in elucidating how each transforms the other.
For Chatman plots are constructed by the logic of narrative events within a hierarchy, that are then “read out” through a change of direction in the story or some change in the character. These points are the kernels: “… narrative moments that give rise to cruxes in direction taken by events … [being] … nodes or hinges in the structure, branching points which force a movement into one or two (or more) possible paths … and cannot be deleted without destroying the narrative logic”.223
Satellites by contrast, are minor plot points that serve to reveal the consequences of the choices made at the kernels. The combination of kernels and satellites assists both logic and linearity, yet satellites can be deleted without disturbing the logic of the plot. Chatman writes: “Satellites entail no choice, but are solely the workings-out of the choices made at the kernels … Their function is that of filling in, elaborating, completing the kernel; they form the flesh on the skeleton”.224 In short, kernels are points in the narrative where there is a change of direction or change to the character, and raise satisfying questions. Satellites on the other hand, are the points where
222 For Evan Smith each storyline has its own set of “beats” that build in tension as the story progresses. Smith defines a beat as “a moment, a discovery, or an incident that alters the main character(s)‟ goals, and/or cranks up a story‟s dramatic tension”. He demonstrates that tension can be increased through a series of twists and obstacles, with the story reaching a conclusion (often the comic degradation), with a resolution or revelation (at the very least exposition). Writing Television Sitcoms, as before, p. 91. Smith matches up the Aristotelian three-act structure with the sitcom story structure. He demonstrates how to break each story down into the relevant number of beats. There are six to nine beats for a main story and three to five beats for a subsidiary story. In a “traditional” sitcom a main storyline with one or two subplots, such as is used in Acropolis Now, there are between five and nine beats with three to five in the subplot/s for each story. In multiple (parallel) storylines, like Seinfeld, there are three to six beats for each story. But Smith does not analyse what these beats are doing in terms of the narrative or how they are generated other than as structural points. 223 Chatman writes that kernels are part of the hermeneutic code, raising and satisfying questions, “nodes or hinges in the structure, branching points which force a movement into one of two (or more) possible paths”, Story and Discourse. Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film ,as before, p. 53. 224 As before, p.54.
108 choices are worked through. Chatman illustrates his argument with a vertical line diagram: a string of dots that represent kernels, and circles around those dots that depict the satellites, with offshoot lines suggesting the optional directions that can be taken by the narrative.225
Chatman‟s work assists the analysis of narrative to determine the engagement between character and story and how together they determine plot. But his work is clearly focused on linear narratives. The narrative structure of the sitcom is circular, in that it returns to the same emotional stasis at which it began. This raises the question, particularly in relation to the sitcom, what of those closed narratives that do not transform the character or the situation, but concern themselves with how character and story impact on each other. If the situation returns to its original stasis we need to ask why this is so.
It is a central tenet of dramatic screenwriting that a story begins when something happens: an action or inciting incident disrupts the equilibrium of a diegesis. In the sitcoms we have been examining, such examples would be Pauly facing the law with his traffic infringements, Sharon wanting Kim to go with her to the reunion and, as we will see in Acropolis Now, a poet arriving at the café and charming Liz, the blonde Australian waitress for whom Jim and Rick have secret feelings.
In order for a story to progress the incident becomes a question: Will Kim go with Sharon to the reunion? Will Pauly still be able to drive? Will Liz leave the café to go overseas with the poet; will Jim and Rick expose their true feelings for Liz?
With the sitcom, the answer to the question being posed is “no”, and it is assumed that
225 Seymour Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film, as before, p.54.
109 the audience knows that. The pleasure comes not from raising satisfying questions, but rather from the character‟s responses to the events of the story. The sitcom is driven by questions such as “what will the character do now?” and more specifically
“how will the character respond to this moment?” The story may have a series of beats or plot points such as kernels that follow logically, but the plot does not flow in a linear manner as in other fictional narratives. Yet there is some degree of linearity in that the story has an inherent logic. The disruptive element has been expelled and the equilibrium restored but, as has been emphasised, there has been no change to the character(s) or the situation. If the structure is circular, then the plot, through the character, must be forcing the narrative to take sharp turns. The challenge is locating the plot points that maintain the logic of the narrative but also demonstrate that there has been a change in direction.
Using Chatman‟s theory, if kernels advance the plot and maintain the narrative logic, then we need to locate those points in the story. Second, we need to look at the satellites, where the character makes choices that will have an impact on the narrative. I suggest that it is the combination of both kernels and satellites that illustrate how the character influences the plot that results in the return to the re- situation. These are not unlike Aristotle‟s „complications‟, that is, moments when some truth is revealed or an obstacle is confronted that changes the direction of the story and the character has been transformed as a result of the change. But as noted, the sitcom character does not recognise some inherent truth about their situation or other characters; furthermore as demonstrated in the last chapter, there is no alteration in their relationships. Yet, when faced with a complication, the character‟s action is logically consistent with their view of the world.
110 In „Writer‟s Block‟ from Acropolis Now (1:11), Liz, the blonde Australian waitress works for Rick, Jim and Memo at the Acropolis Now café. One day a local poet, Epsilon arrives. Liz is taken by his good looks, charm, abilities and cultural sensitivity. Jim went to school with Epsilon, and believes he is “the biggest fake that ever walked this earth”. Jim had just managed to get Liz interested in going to the
Vibrations Disco, where he is not only famous for his dancing skills but is also a
V.I.G. (a very important Greek).
The initial question is will Liz go with Jim to the Disco. The inciting incident is the arrival of Epsilon and Liz‟s immediate attraction to him. This is enhanced when
Epsilon offers to take Liz with him on an arts grant to the Greek Islands. The question then becomes will Liz go with Epsilon? Jim is threatened. He decides to “fight”
Epsilon. Jim believes himself to be knowledgeable about art because of his “skill” at spotting a fake and so challenges Epsilon on his own turf. The subplots are: Effie wants Jim to get her and sidekick Soph into the Disco (As Effie says: “Do you know how long you have to wait in line and hope to hell your hair don‟t go flat”); Memo has written his life story as a poem and proudly shows Epsilon his work. I have labelled the narrative kernels A, B, C, D, E (over the page). Each of these moments act on the character‟s desire or expose some information. Sequences B, D and E are in bold; each represent a choice, revelation or confrontation forcing a change in direction of the narrative. They also are points where a character, notably Liz, is forced to make a decision. I examine Liz‟s responses more closely in the next section. At the end of sequence E, the story line triggered by the inciting incident concludes with the expulsion of the disruptive element (Epsilon). The tag scene, which occurs after the return to the stasis or resolution of the main story, is a comic moment that further
111 reiterates the degradation of one or more characters and confirms the return to the re- situation. For „Writer‟s Block‟, the main plot points are:
A: Set up and inciting incident: Effie wants to go to the Disco; Epsilon arrives, charms Liz; Memo gives Epsilon his “autobiography” and recites a poem. B: Liz announces Epsilon‟s offer and then questions if she should go. Jim arrives with a mangled bike that Rick says is reminiscent of Picasso‟s Bull. C: Jim tells Liz Epsilon is a fake. Liz doesn‟t believe him. D: Listening to the local ethnic radio station, Liz, Jim, Rick and Memo hear Memo‟s poem being read by Epsilon. Jim decides to fight on Epsilon‟s turf – knowledge of art: the mangled bike from his collision with a cyclist can now be his work of art like that artist “Pistachio”. E: Epsilon is queried by Liz, Jim and Rick. He defends his actions. Liz accepts his argument. Rick and Jim then “trap” Epsilon into admitting that Liz will be no more than a housekeeper and typist. Liz begins to see Epsilon for who he is. As Epsilon continues to defend his actions, Jim threatens Epsilon; he flees, Jim‟s “fight” stance becomes a form of dance. Tag: Jim tries to impress Liz with his mastery of art by having a “mystery buyer” show interest in his sculpture. The buyer recites her lines saying the work reminds her of Picasso‟s Cow. Liz exposes the buyer as Effie. Jim says he will tell her mother for her stupidity, Effie exclaims: “How Embarrashment!”.
Screenwriting texts would label each of the above plot points as a beat that consists of two parts: an action that forces a reaction.226 The main storyline is driven by Liz‟s desire to go to Greece and “fulfil” her dreams. This is an action. Jim tries to stop her – reaction. Failing to expose Liz Epsilon‟s true nature, Jim attempts to fight
Epsilon on his own turf – as an artist.
226 Evan Smith, Writing Television Sitcoms, as before, p. 91. Beats have a purpose in the construction of the narrative, whereas theorists attempt to determine how that structure is connected. Beats are not unlike Chatman‟s kernels and satellites, being significant plot points. Craft books demonstrate the need for beats to act on the character‟s desires, by progressing those desires or thwarting them.
112 Diagrammatically the narrative is depicted as follows:
The dotted lines connect the subplot of Memo‟s poem, the object through which
Epsilon attempts to gain power, but which also exposes his true character. To capitalise on this, Rick and Jim goad Epsilon into treating Liz in a sexist manner. She explodes: “Jim‟s right you‟re a fake, a sleaze bag and a sexist pig – I mean you‟re worse than Jim”. Jim does not believe that Liz sees him in that way. The tag scene is his final attempt to demonstrate to her his artistic and cultural sensibility only to be exposed by the hapless Effie and her robotic attempt at being a mystery art buyer.
Once the main story is resolved the situation returns to its stasis: Liz stays, Jim is once again out of her league, taking his anger out on Effie. Examining the episode of Kath
& Kim discussed in the last chapter („The Moon‟), the narrative kernels act more like
“beads on a string”: the characters are actants on the narrative rather than determined by causality as we see in Acropolis Now.227
227 Jessica Milner Davis, Farce, (London and New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 2003), p. 5.
113 To recap: Kim decides to go to the reunion, announcing she will “wipe the floor” with what she is going to wear. The following sequence elucidates how she comes to arrive at the reunion looking like a pirate.
Set Up: Brett needs to work all weekend. Inciting incident: Sharon wants Kim to go to the school reunion. Kim says she will think about it. She then gets Sharon to take her to Kath‟s. Sharon returns to Kath‟s with the wrong drycleaning (designer knickerbockers), along with the hair twisties that Kim asked her to get. Sharon is wearing an eye-patch, which Kath removes. Kath encourages Kim to buy a puffy-sleeved blouse. Kim decides to go to the reunion. Kel accidentally pokes Kim in the eye with a fishing rod. Kath offers Kim Sharon‟s eye-patch.
Kim arrives at the reunion wearing the knickerbockers, the eye-patch and with her hair in ringlets as she walks across the grassy verge, she hobbles, looking very much like a pirate. Cut to a close-up of Sharon‟s horrified face: “Oh my god Kim it‟s not fancy dress, you look like a pirate.” Kim replies: “As if. I do not look like a pirate”.
Kim is further unamused by the witticisms coming from fellow guests as they sashay past: “Ahoy there”, or more pointedly, “Horatio Hornblower”. Kim not only denies the truth being revealed to her (that she has turned up in fancy dress) but she retaliates with aggressive self-defence: “Horatio Hornbag thank you very much”.
From the previous chapter we know that Sharon also makes a decision: she decides to go to the Gold Coast in order to “realise her dream of becoming an elite athlete”, much like Liz and her dream. And we know Sharon returns because of the discomfort she feels in being treated with respect. The first turn in the plot is when
Kim decides to go to the reunion, the second when Sharon decides to leave Kim, and the third turn occurs when Sharon returns. This occurs near the end of the episode.
114 The diagram for this program would be long and rectangular. The plot points in Kath
& Kim are more like events intended to progress the story rather than borne of the relationship between story and character. All the “moments” (wrong drycleaning, puffy- shirt, twisted hair, poke in the eye, eye-patch) are contrivances set up through the narrative designed to expose Kim‟s fear as well as her narcissistic idealisation.
They are gags that occur on the narrative or force the narrative along.228 As such they have little impact on the story. They are arbitrary in nature and more reliant on traditional comic structures such as chance, fate or coincidence. This story returns to its stasis not because of the expulsion of a disruption or even after the denouement of
Kim‟s exposition, but because Sharon returns. This suggests that the sitcom narrative is better served by a close relationship between character and story than by a series of moments.
Returning to Acropolis Now, we can see that it is at the points, B, D and E that a character is forced to make a decision, some information is revealed, or there is a confrontation. At those points or complications, the narrative comes under pressure and changes direction. Some characters, like Liz, make choices that are clearly influenced by their narcissistic desire. Liz is offered an opportunity that threatens Jim and he is forced to respond. Jim attempts to expose the truth about Epsilon in order to serve his desire (of not letting Liz leave). Driven by the desire to win Liz, Jim is blind to her lack of interest and even antagonism towards him, as well as his lack of skill in art. But we also see that Liz‟s actions at those points further increases Jim‟s attempts to expose the true nature of Epsilon and impress her with his knowledge of art.
228 As mentioned in a footnote in the Introduction, Trahair argues that gags are not necessary to the narrative, taking issue with Neale in terms of the relationship between gags and narrative, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, as before, p. 151. Here we see that Kim‟s outfit is the result of gags as is Pauly‟s car, as opposed to Memo‟s poem, the „object‟ through which Epsilon attempts to gain power and thus is exposed. The nature of gags and objects as sources of power in the sitcom is an area for future study.
115 Ironically, Jim does not use the one talent he does have: dance. It is this very skill that gives Jim the courage to chase Epsilon from the café in the final scene, but which also frightens him: “Don‟t ever let me do that again Rick”. It is the narcissistic nature of their desire as well as their attachment to that desire that drives the character, as well as enable them to deny any reality that does not accord with their idealisation.229 The inciting incident forces the character to act or react to the disrupting element in accordance with their narcissistic idealisation. It is the character‟s denial of the very truths that challenge their narcissism that brings pressure on the narrative. By letting the key character respond to the story in a way consistent with their narcissistic view of the world the narrative is able to return to the re-situation, because of the character‟s psychologically consistent response to the narrative.
The story progresses (in a linear way) but the narrative changes direction at those points where a character is faced with a complication (challenging their view of the world and narcissistic desires). The comic character in the sitcom engages with the narrative according to their reality and its logic. Characters can behave in comic ways in response to story events, but it is the choices they make at certain points that account for the direction of the plot. Each character makes choices that are both consistent and logical for them and how they see the world. It is the clash between how they see the world (and engage with it) and the reality of that world (and its logic) that comicality is enabled. In other words, it is a clash of two worlds, each with
229 The character may also disavow the truth or reality that is presented to them. But Laplanche and Pontalis describe the Freudian disavowal as a process that attempts to hold conflicting desires/perceptions and/or realities (a defining trait of borderline personalities resulting in ego splitting). The narcissistic character is denying specific realities, perceptions or information that do not accord with their view of the world or themselves rather than attempting to hold conflicting perceptions. Jean Laplanche and Jean-Bertrand Pontalis. The Language of Psychoanalysis, (London: Karnac Books, 2006), p. 118. As I have suggested the comic character may have aspects of borderline personality but it is the comic character who is primarily narcissistic that is of interest to this study.
116 their own logic.230 This clash of logics drives the narrative and increase the tension.231
The question now becomes, what generates the tension through the narrative?
II – Tension and the „diegetic reality‟ of the narrative.
Seidman argues that the character is either expelled from the diegesis or subordinated by the narrative.232 In the sitcom it is not only how the character sees the world, but also, as we saw, how the character responds to the reality delivered by the narrative.
As mentioned, the inciting incident drives the story and its narrative. Pauly‟s need for a car is not only to have speed, but also to maintain leadership of his peer group; Sharon needs a friend so that she will not look like a loser; Liz wants to pursue her dream of writing on a Greek Island, but Jim is threatened by the potential loss of his heart‟s desire. The inciting incident strikes at the heart of the key character‟s sense of self or is a threat to their narcissistic identity. Therefore the narrative needs to challenge the key character‟s sense of self and how they view themselves.
Trahair writes that when psychoanalytic theories have been applied to analyse the narrative it is traditionally using the Oedipus complex and the fort da game; the narrative is seen as “an economy of repetition and variation, symmetry and asymmetry, installing a trajectory that moves from lack to mastery”.233 Thus the
230 In the episode of Pizza that I examine, as well as in many other episodes in the series, the clash is more overtly between the Symbolic law and the character‟s self-image. Rather than deny the reality of that world, Pauly openly defies it. The clash is between two world views rather than as this chapter attempts to demonstrate that much comicality in the sitcom is borne of the clash between a more covert logic and set of rules operating in the external world that the comic character does not understand and even denies. 231 Steve Kaplan illustrates this “gap” in logics by describing characters as a “wavy line” and “straight line”; the former is confused about the world around them and the latter is clear in their view of how the world works (even blind). For Kaplan it is in the gap between the two views that comedy emerges. Steve Kaplan‟s Comedy Intensive Workshop, Sydney Comedy Store, August 25-26, 2007. But while the “gap” may enable the comedy of misunderstanding and confusion, it does not explain the consistent struggle of at least one character in the sitcom to maintain or gain their sense of self. 232 Steve Seidman, Comedian Comedy: A Tradition in Hollywood Film, (Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International Research Press, 1981). 233 Lisa Trahair, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, as before, pp. 37-40.
117 narrative has been read as the process through which the comic seeks to master the world. Trahair views the narrative as having the capacity to subordinate comic excess:
If narrative exists to make our lives meaningful, narrative comedy (or perhaps more appropriately comic narrative) diminishes the agency of the individual to show that the world continues to work according to a logic that is unknowable and ungraspable.234
For her comic narratives expose the incongruity between the individual and the diegetic world within which they exist. In theorising the tension between the economies of the pleasure principle and the reality principle, Trahair has laid the groundwork to enable a psychoanalytic examination of the comic character‟s relationship with the narrative.
Trahair demonstrates that the narrative constantly challenges the comic character. The narrative must therefore enable the character to master the struggle originating from their psychical tension, or expel him/her from the diegetic reality as
Seidman demonstrates. I am concerned with how the narrative ensures the ongoing struggle of the key character in the sitcom.
The comic character is a function of the pleasure principle and the primary processes. But the comic character also functions in the external world. To achieve their goals they must utilise secondary processes as we saw with Pauly and his skill in altering the car. The pleasure principle acts according to the logic of the primary processes as determined in the unconscious. The reality principle governs the secondary processes, modifying the primary processes and their instincts through thinking and the connection of ideas. The pleasure principle is governed by the intensity and emotions connected with those ideas and may govern the actions of the
234 Lisa Trahair, The Comedy of Philosophy: Sense and Nonsense in Early Cinematic Slapstick, as before, p. 44.
118 individual. However, the individual‟s engagement of secondary processes to master their environment does not necessarily mean they have engaged with the reality of that world. We have seen how the character, in their response at such moments can alter the direction of the narrative and thus shape the plot. Now we examine the interrelationship between their actions and the narrative.
Returning to the plot points of Acropolis Now, labelled B, D and E:
B: Liz announces that Epsilon has offered her a job as his assistant, part of an arts grant he received to go to Greece. It‟s her dream and she wants to go but cannot decide whether to take up the offer. D: Listening to the local ethnic radio station, Liz, Jim, Rick and Memo hear Memo‟s poem being read by Epsilon. Jim decides to fight on Epsilon‟s turf – knowledge of art E: Liz challenges Epsilon about ownership of Memo‟s poem, but he manages to charm her.
Liz wants to be a writer. Liz is seduced by Epsilon and attracted to his offer. It is Liz‟s dream that blinds her to the reality of Epsilon‟s true character and intentions. Despite
Jim‟s attempts to reveal the truth about Epsilon, Liz refuses to believe him. Jim is forced to more extreme actions in order to “win over” Liz. It is Liz‟s denial of the truth that forces Jim‟s actions. It is the combination of Liz‟s blindness, coupled with
Jim‟s fear of losing Liz that creates the tension and progresses the narrative. And finally it is the exposition of the truth about Epsilon‟s intentions, orchestrated by Jim and Rick, that enables the expulsion from the community of the disruptive element and returns the friends to stasis. Every action has been driven by desire (Liz) and every reaction by fear (Jim). With each action and reaction the tension increases, momentarily released using comic devices such as jokes and gags, until Epsilon‟s final exposition, when Jim, comically “expels” the disruption.
119 In light of Trahair, the comic character is realised through a psychic tension.
Tension is enabled in many ways, including the incongruity between the perspectives of different characters on the world, and the incongruity between the audiences‟ and characters‟ perspective and their engagement with that world. The tension that drives the key character is delivered primarily in the disjunction between how they view the world and engage with it. I now contend that it is the diegetic reality delivered through the narrative, and which bears down on the narcissism of the character, that creates such tension, underscoring, as well as enabling, the comicality.
I have argued that the character makes choices in the face of the narrative by denying certain truths in order to maintain their attachment to an Ego-Ideal or goal. I now consider how such choices increase the level of their pain, unpleasure, or psychic tension. In an attempt on their part to reduce this tension or pain, such characters take it upon themselves to either deny or alter reality. Their narcissistic behaviour enables the denial of any reality that is at odds with their desire. The narrative, triggered by the inciting incident, challenges the key character‟s sense of self and Ego-Ideal, but it is their response to the narrative that delivers the plot to its original stasis. The sitcom narrative both challenges and accounts for the character‟s narcissistic personality disorder. Hence the narrative further fosters their psychical incapacity. I now argue that the narrative is closed, rather than circular, as circles do not have sharp turns.
Further, that its shape signals the key character‟s situational entrapment as being nothing more than a reflection of their psychical entrapment. We are left with the question: what threatens the key character‟s sense of self in the diegetic reality of the narrative? Further, what enables the repeated and ongoing comicality that produces the key character‟s perpetual psychical struggle? My answer is a tension incorporated into the series‟ premise.
120 III – Tension in the premise.
“How embarrashment!”
Effie‟s catch phrase from Acropolis Now, Delivered in the tag scene, „The Writer‟s Block‟ (1:11).
I have argued that in the sitcom the main source of tension are the actions resulting from the key character‟s narcissism. I now examine how tension is built into a series through the premise.
Jeremy Butler demonstrates in Television: Critical Methods and Applications that tension through the story must be generated by a „counterforce‟. This counterforce need not be personified by a single individual (as an antagonist), but
“may also be the protagonist‟s environment or an internal, psychological element within the protagonist”.235 Its purpose is to delay the protagonist's attachment of a goal or satisfaction of desire. Deferral comes about through complications and obstacles, increasing the tension which can manifest either as comic or suspenseful.
Butler writes that the weekly “narrative enigma” resulting from a character‟s desire or lack, sits within a larger narrative problematic of the series:
Thus, the narrative focus shifts from one week to the next, but it is important to recognize that these individual desires and enigmas exist within a larger narrative problematic. Because fundamentally the series is a repeatable form, there must be some narrative kernel that recurs every week. In effect, the program must ask the same question again and again to maintain consistency and viewer interest.236
For Butler, the narrative enigma at the series level is replayed at the episode level.
Each story question is a reflection of the larger episode question.237 As Butler
235 Jeremy Butler, Television: Critical Methods and Applications, (London and New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2002), p. 24. 236 As before, p. 25. 237 Evan Smith makes a distinguishing point that the predicaments of a series might be permanent (using Gilligan‟s Island as an example) and within that restriction along with the characters‟ foibles
121 highlights, the counterforce, must create some opposition for the protagonist/s, no matter what generates it (a larger social problematic and/or other characters).
While Butler applies this approach to television series in general, he uses
Friends (NBC 1994) as an example to demonstrate that each episode taps into the lack and desire inherent in the premise: the “lack (of the truth, of commitment in a relationship, of romance) [raises] the question of whether the protagonist‟s desire [to find love] will be satisfied.” Hence each episode is guided by the series‟ thematic question. For Seinfeld (NBC 1990) the question is: will each of the four protagonists grow up and become responsible adults? The counterforce is the society in which they live expecting they will contribute to its development. What Butler illustrates is the need for a clearly defined narrative enigma.
Examining the three texts central to this study, for Acropolis Now the narrative enigma and thematic question is “will mainstream Anglo-Australia accept the Greek boys for who they are and not limit them to a narrow view of ethnic culture?” The counterforce is the capture and abuse of the ideology of multicultural policies by opportunists seeking power rather than enabling inclusion. For the episode I have been examining, the episode‟s question, “will Liz leave?” taps into the larger question, now altered to become: with her loss, will the café, be able to be part of an inclusive mainstream society while also expressing a cultural identity, or will it be relegated to being defined as ethnic? In Pizza the episode question is: will Pauly maintain his identity through the size and performance of the little car? The counterforce is the law that not only thwarts his desire but defines him as marginal
and weaknesses storylines emerge. Writing Television Sitcoms, as before, p.27. What this study attempts to do is understand the nature of the character‟s foibles and weaknesses that both drive the narrative and maintain the entrapment of some characters, despite the situation. Further it argues that the situation may also influence the key character‟s narcissistic view of the world or be a site with which they are in opposition to but cannot leave (as in Gilligan‟s Island). However Butler‟s observation remains: the narrative enigma defines the situation guiding the episode stories.
122 and troublesome. Pauly‟s overt and satirical opposition to this law also symbolises the desire for marginal communities to maintain an identity on their terms. In their determination to do so, such communities resort to unlawful or deceptive behaviour or fight amongst themselves in a struggle for power. What is interesting about the last two programs mentioned is that the first seeks to promote inclusiveness and the second laughs at the hypocrisy of that notion.
Kath & Kim has a less clearly defined narrative enigma and thus counterforce.
Satirising aspirational white-bread middle Australia as masters of their destiny through the power of consumerism, Kath & Kim taps into the powerlessness of that demographic, asking will these representatives succeed in their aspirational desires?238
But there are no obstacles other than their own ignorance or inability, and some would say bad taste, to achieve a soap-opera view of their Ego-Ideal. The larger narrative question, will they achieve their goal “to be effluent”, is embodied in the characters.
Like Pizza, these characters are caricatures of a certain demographic and class. They are satirical in nature. But unlike Pizza we are asked to laugh at the characters in Kath
& Kim. Not all programs sit within a clear “problematic”, nor need to, but I argue that the clearer the problematic, and thus the less satirical the target, the greater the opportunity for repeated comicality.
While the key character may be at odds with how other characters see the world, I now offer that some are also at odds with the social hegemony within which they exist and its expectations, or their expectations of how it will deliver to them their desires. Programs such as Hey Dad! (ATN 7 1987) or My Family (BBC 2000) have middle-aged male protagonists at odds primarily with other characters, in
238 See Michael Pusey‟s The Experience of Middle Australia. The Dark Side of Economic Reform, (Cambridge University Press, 2003), for discussion on this demographic.
123 particular from different age groups. In Hey Dad!, the “antagonist” is a nutty secretary and in My Family it is the mother or other family members and incompetent colleagues. In both these programs the protagonists are at odds with primarily female characters.239 Both exploit the gap in logic between the breadwinning male and the female. The problematic is at a more personal or familial level than societal.240
Furthermore, both these programs reinforce a contemporary and dominant discourse of the family. My Family demonstrates that the discourse has shifted to depict women as the intelligent capable characters and the men as ignorant buffoons. Regardless of its ideological base, if the hegemony promoted is the dominant one then we can see why the sitcom attracts the criticism of being conservative. But what is also evident is that some characters are at odds with a hegemonic discourse that attempts to contain them within a social frame; contributing to both psychic tension as well as their perpetual entrapment.
We have seen that the character‟s struggle is with themselves, others and the world within which they exist. I now offer that what precipitates and maintains this struggle is an interaction with a social frame.
IV – The key character‟s „frame‟.
Effie: You are such a wog Jim. You are so up yourself. Jim: If you were me wouldn‟t you be?
„The Writers Block‟, Acropolis Now (1:11 1990)
239 See Sue Turnbull‟s discussion on the female as comic butt in „A Cunning Array of Stunts: Women, Situation Comedy and Risky Performance on Australian Television‟ in Australian Screen Comedy‟, (Continuum, The Australian Journal of Media and Culture, 10.2, 1996:11-25.) 240 This is Brett Mills‟ criticism of the sitcom: that it does not introject the societal conflicts at a personal level. Rather, he argues, the sitcom reaffirms a hegemony instead of exposing the dissonances within that hegemony that play out in the private domain. I offer that the sitcom does have the potential to explore those dissonances. Brett Mills, Television Sitcom (London: BFI Publishing, 2005).
124 We each exist within a frame of reference that helps us make meaning of who we are
– whether through family, peers, and workplaces, or of our cultural and social discourse. Frames can be defined in many ways. By articulating the containment that defined and limited women, Mellencamp makes possible a reading of Lucy that enables the character to be viewed as existing within, and contained by, a social and cultural frame that is unknown to that character.
This section explores the frame as a form of social and cultural containment designed to define the behaviour and expectation of individuals. I argue such frames precipitate and maintain the key character‟s struggle to achieve their Ego-Ideal.
Further such frames must be unknown to the key character, if not always the audience.
In his paper, „The frames of comic “freedom”‟, Umberto Eco distinguishes between two kinds of frame that exist in comedy.241 One involves the transgression of a known „frame‟, the other the transgression of a previously unknown „frame‟. The paper is a clarion call for the latter based on his view of how drama and comedy engage with social rules. For Eco dramatic and tragic texts expose the violation of a known rule that produces a tragic situation. The tragic effect (such as the killing of the father) occurs when a known frame is broken and then reasserted. By contrast, comic effect comes about because of a prohibition against “spelling out the norm”.242 If the limit of the frame is broken or transgressed it is done by a character whom we look down on. The law and its limit must be thoroughly introjected and it must be broken in short bursts to make the transgression enjoyable (and then reinstated). But this relies on knowing what has been transgressed.
241 Umberto Eco, „The frames of comic “freedom”‟, as before. 242 As before, p.6.
125 In departing from the “hyper-Bachtinian ideology of carnival” [sic], Eco sees comedy as a form of social control rather than social criticism. For him, carnival is an act of deceit because it pretends to take us beyond the limits of social codes and norms through acts of festive behaviour, for example by crowning the fool or letting animals “rule”.243 Carnival is condoned by participants, spectators and law-makers because the “law” is known. In its (temporary) transgression the participants and spectators alike enjoy its violation.244 By being restricted in space and time – that is in the market place once a year, or on the television set once a week, or even in a permitted political demonstration allowing for abnormal behaviour – Eco sees carnival as a mode for controlling the population, operating under the illusion of
„liberation‟ and freedom. As such, the transgression of the law is in fact a reinforcement of its validity, not a repudiation of it.
The limitation of Eco‟s reading is that it places comedy or comic effect wholly within a context of carnival. Eco focuses on comic performance within carnival to highlight its lack of transgressive nature, rather than comedy derived from humour, or indeed other sources. In doing so he restricts comic performance to degradation. Eco writes: “In comedy we laugh at the character, in humour we smile because of the contradiction between the character and the frame the character cannot comply
243 Eco‟s concept of Carnival is derived from Mikhail Bakhtin, where the notion of carnival is seen as a mental frame that involves transgression of a law of which only some may be humorous. But in focussing on the humorous Eco enables the setting up of the notions of a frame and how the transgression of a law may operate in the sitcom. 244 The closest example of this in Australia would be the annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras held in Sydney each March. But Eco extends the notion of Carnival to include any repeated festive occasion that offers relief from expected or restricted social conventions. In light of the psychoanalytic theory I have been discussing, it is the equivalent of challenging the critical super-ego or the Lacanian Real. Carnival in this sense could be viewed as the process by which we take a holiday from the super-ego and its demands. What this chapter aims to do is offer a way of reading social frames that limit and challenge the key character‟s sense of self and identity – that is to find the super-ego that it introjects and represses, attempting to escape or challenge its demands.
126 with”.245 When we find something humorous, Eco argues, we experience a previously unseen „frame‟, and when transgressed, we feel uneasy. He does not, however, articulate the style of comedy or comic performance that operates in his perception of humour. Nevertheless, his notion of determining comic effect through the transgression of a frame remains relevant to this study.
In defining comedy and humour in terms of identification and response, Eco argues that “the performance of humor acts as a form of social criticism” because it exposes a disconnection between the character‟s view of the world and the frame within which they exist.246 In triggering a response (rather than just an identification) humour thus enables the transgression of the limit of a previously unseen frame. Eco‟s reading suggests that the exposition of a frame that maintains and defines the “law” results in transformation. For him humour is the more noble experience, much like
Freud. But whereas Freud‟s concern is with the super-ego looking after the ego, Eco provides a mechanism that enables us to transgress a frame that is limiting. In respect of this, he provides the potential to understand the capacity for social change. Using semiotics Eco makes the point that,
humor works in the interstices between narrative and discursive structures: the attempt of the hero to comply with the frame or to violate it is developed by the fabula, while the intervention of the author belongs to the discursive activity and represents a metasemiotic series of statements about the cultural background of the fabula.247
What is of interest to us here is the disjunction between the character and the frame that Eco sees occurring by means of the narrative. Each is at odds with the other, and while Eco asks whether it is the character or the frame that is “wrong” (in
245 Umberto Eco, „The frames of comic “freedom”‟, as before, p.8. 246 As before, p. 8. 247 As before, p. 8.
127 comparison with expectations), what becomes apparent is the necessity of a relationship between the character and a frame.
Each of the three programs at the centre of this study, Acropolis Now, Kath &
Kim and Pizza, can be understood as engaging with a frame pertaining to the discourse of Australian multiculturalism. The three programs mentioned coincidently explore the shifting views of this discourse.
Multiculturalism became popular in Australia in the 1980s. The policies were promoted to manage the ethnic and cultural diversity for the benefit of the society as a whole and to integrate as well as promote the diversity of cultures and ethnicities that populate the nation. Its positive contribution is the recognition of the diversity of
Australian society. Its shortcoming is that it attempts to define specific ethnic cultures, and the danger is that such definition risks stultifying the development of these cultures and their possible integration into mainstream society. However, it is the existence and promotion of such policies that enable the shifting lines of what defines
“mainstream”. For some communities (and their offspring) it is desirable to
“assimilate” with the dominant hegemony. For other communities this hegemony constitutes a threat to their cultural beliefs and values. Such policies have also been criticised for supporting minority interests over what some would hold to be traditional (and thus mainstream) values. The three programs mentioned, when viewed together, manifest shifts in the discursive frame of multicultural discourse and thus demonstrate a shifting hegemony. It is in the relations between character and frame that these shifts are most evident.
Produced at the height of the policy‟s popularity, Acropolis Now is situated within a newly emerging multicultural Australia. This program attempts to negotiate the boundaries of the old and the new view of the city ethnic. In „The Trouble with
128 Mothers‟ (1:5 1990), the local council‟s multicultural officer threatens to move the annual waiter‟s race to the Hercules café because the Acropolis café no longer has an authentic atmosphere reminiscent of Greece: hanging fishing nets and old men sitting around drinking and playing games (hence the change in name to, and title of the program, Acropolis Now).
Kath & Kim, debuting thirteen years later (2002), is a satirical parody of suburban based soap-operas such as Neighbours.248 Kath & Kim is situated in the white-bread world of the aspirational middle classes who populate the outer suburbs of major Australian cities. This program explicitly denies the validity or existence of anything resembling multiculturalism as affirming difference. The characters actively denigrate and are threatened by those who look different, particularly “Asians”; thereby supporting the discourse that attempts to maintain an Anglo, “white centric” view of the world. In so doing the characters attack the frame defined by multicultural inclusion, while simultaneously reasserting their ownership or control of it. In the episode „Roots‟ (4:6 2007) Kim treats a local Asian “check-out chick” with disdain.
The second story centres on Kath‟s discovery of her Aboriginal ancestry; she immerses herself in the culture by a series of gags that expose her ignorance and feigned respect.249 The program attempts to lay claim to the frame of indigenous culture while simultaneously rejecting the frame that seeks to include Asians. The double effect is that this episode demonstrates the hypocrisy of the characters in their choice of what frames them. Furthermore, their definition of inclusion is restricted to
248 I take my definition of satire and parody from Geoff King: “Satire is a form of comedy with a political edge. It attacks social mores and structures….. Parody attacks or celebrates narrative forms and conventions”, Film Comedy, (London: Wallflower Press, 2002), p.18. Thus satire has a target and a reference is implied. Some viewed Kath & Kim as a satire, recognising the target of that demographic, but there are those who enjoyed it because they recognised themselves; it is this dichotomy that is at the heart of Turnbull‟s unease and argument – was the satirical attack intentional? 249 First series developed for the ATN 7 in 2007, but was the fourth series of the program.
129 that which is kept “over there”, away from the mainstream. Thus the spectator is asked to laugh at both the rejection of multiculturalism (by now an integral aspect of public policy) and the indigenous culture as something foreign and kitsch. This episode is a good demonstration of which frames this program deems as “acceptable”.
The frame of multiculturalism is rejected while the frame of indigenous culture is acceptable, but only as a contained and clearly defined entity. Such a dichotomy creates unease for some.
Sue Turnbull sees the characters of Kath and Kim as powerless figures in a
“suburban existence dependent on the consumption of goods which are intended to confirm status but not power”.250 In using Purdie‟s theory to read Kath & Kim,
Turnbull argues that rather than the rule of the discourse being repudiated, it is in fact reinforced by our laughter. To laugh at the characters of Kath and Kim we must first know the rule that is being broken. For her, characters such as Patsy and Edna (from
Absolutely Fabulous) are funny because “they break the rules at the same time as they take control of their joking discourse through their comic performance”.251 But for
Turnbull the question is whether the character becomes ridiculous through the breaking of the law, or rather reaffirms “the importance of the rule which should not be broken”.252 She argues that by laughing at a character like Kim, in particular her unruly body and failed desire, we are “therefore simply reinforcing the notion that this is not how desiring bodies should appear or behave”.253 Thus for Turnbull “[t]he comedy of Kath & Kim … depends on a type of cultural condescension which asks us
250 Sue Turnbull, „„Look at Moiye, Kimmie, Look at Moiye!‟: Kath and Kim and the Australian Comedy of Taste‟, (Media International Australia incorporating Culture and Policy, 113, Nov 2004), p. 106. 251 As before, p. 103. 252 As before, p. 103. 253 As before, p. 104.
130 to laugh at those who apparently don‟t know any better”.254 She demonstrates that
Kath & Kim asks us to laugh at the characters within their frame. This frame is clearly not known to the characters but is known to (some) of the audience. It is this line between those who are in the know and those who are not that appears to be at the heart of Turnbull‟s unease with why we laugh at the program. This is an important point that helps to visualise where the spectator is being positioned in relation to the character and their frame. Turnbull‟s paper raises the difficult issue of how frames are read and whether they are known (or not) when the program is developed.
Returning to the discussion on multiculturalism as a discursive frame, Pizza overtly satirises both its language and policies. The premise of the series is the conflict and struggle between the cultural practices of marginalised ethnic communities and the “mainstream” white-Anglo society, often depicted as stupid, lazy and dishonest. This program positions itself outside the frame of the known, and very observable, dominant hegemony by overtly challenging its rules and meanings.
This group of ethnics is battling to gain control of the discourse. In doing so, this program aligns itself firmly in opposition to those discourses. In its exploration of an almost tribal sub-culture, Pizza openly laughs, often aggressively and tendentiously, at the language and practices of “inclusion”. The episode „Small and Large Pizza‟ discussed in Chapter One, attacks not only the law but also the practice and ideology that underpin the policies of equal opportunity. As we saw, while the law in Pizza finally wins, in the intervening twenty-odd minutes, the audience, as with carnival, has delighted in Pauly‟s attempt to challenge and outwit the power that seeks to define his identity and contain his desires. Pizza is often described as a cult comedy,
254 Sue Turnbull, „„Look at Moiye, Kimmie, Look at Moiye!‟: Kath and Kim and the Australian Comedy of Taste‟, as before, p. 105.
131 suggesting that its audience comprises those who, like Pauly, identify with the minority, exist “outside” the hegemony and experience feelings of exclusion, despite the discourse of “inclusion”. While this program may appear to transgress the limits of the discourse in exposing its failings and hypocrisy, in fact the scenario reaffirms the law. Much like Eco‟s definition of carnival, our pleasure comes from Pauly‟s attempts to challenge the limits of the law, but his transgression is short-lived.
It is not just the case that the comic character is responding to some form of containment enabled by a discursive frame, I now contend that the relationship between character and frame actually determines the comic style of the program. This is best illustrated by pictorial examples. If we begin by looking at programs that reinforce a hegemony such as Hey Dad!, My Family and the American program
Everyone Loves Raymond (CBS 1996) we see that each reinforces a middle class view of family. Characters in these programs exist within a frame equivalent to the one which Pauly finds himself on the outside. However, the protagonists in the programs just mentioned are at odds with the social discourse within which the program exists, and are often confused by its expectations. They signal their confusion or defeat by using surprised looks or pained expressions. Their performance is “comedic”.255
While the spectator identifies with, or at least recognises, the key or main character, they are also aware of the frame that seeks to define them. The protagonist is being contained in ways he either objects to or does not understand. But the spectator does; hence the spectator‟s „gaze‟ goes from the frame to the character. They are laughing at the character from the position of a known frame.
255 For discussion on comic performance in the sitcom see Brett Mills, Television Sitcom, as before.
132
As mentioned, the arrow indicates the direction of the spectator‟s gaze.256 In this case, there is no surprise (for the spectator) at the character‟s clash with the frame and the hegemonic discourse is reasserted in their moment of degradation.
We have already seen that despite the desire and intention by a main character such as Pauly, to attack a frame that seeks to define him, the program Pizza ultimately reinforces the existence of a hegemony. Satirical in nature, Pizza uses a broad style of comic performance, including physical and exaggerated expressions, along with camera techniques, such as the use of extreme wide angles that give it a cartoonish feel. Programs like Kath & Kim also reinforce a social hegemony and its discourse of aspirational consumerism by satirising the frame and those who exist within it.257
Satire attacks social discourses and their institutions, but, as we have seen with Pizza, and to some extent Kath & Kim, satire can also reinforce a hegemony.
Acropolis Now also situates its characters within a frame, but attempts to shift the limits imposed on its characters by the discourse of multiculturalism. What differentiates Kath & Kim from Acropolis Now is that while the frame in both is known to both character and spectator, in the first instance it causes the audience to laugh at the characters within their frame and in the second instance it shifts its own
256 Diagrams courtesy of artist Petra Klaus. 257 While some spectators recognise themselves through the characters of Kath and/or Kim, and even accept the depiction, others experience discomfort as they are asked to laugh at these characters and their frame. We are reminded of Turnbull‟s point, that with Kath & Kim we laugh in recognition of the characters, but also at the frame that defines them. The program also laughs at the upper middle-class (or upper class) through the characters of retail assistants, Prue and Trud who work in an upmarket home-wares shop. These characters suggest the creators of the program were using satire as a mode of attack.
133 limits. As satire attacks the frame, we can say that the spectator is not only aware of the frame they are situated outside it. These three programs can thus be classified according to whether they seek to attack a frame (and its hegemonic discourse), reinforce it or shift its limits; and moreover where they situate the spectator. Thus in the following set of diagrammatic classifications, the position of the character and the spectator becomes important. But with Pizza we have a slightly different rendering of the relationship. The character laughs at the frame and in doing so asks the audience to join in. The spectator, in this case, is asked to identify with both the character and the site of satirical attack. I have included the previous diagram as the standard from which the other programs deviate.
PERFORMANCE STYLE
“COMEDIC” SATIRE/EXTREME FRAME
RE-INFORCED
(My Family/Hey Dad!) (Kath & Kim) Character defined by a frame.
ATTACK/SHIFT/
CHANGE
(Acropolis Now) (Pizza) Character not defined by the frame, sits outside it.
Acropolis Now, with its bi-directional arrow indicates the desire to “expand” the frame and the limit of the discursive frame. The more satirical programs on the right situate the spectator outside the frame. This chart also demonstrates how the
134 discomfort of Kath & Kim might be realised: the spectator is asked to identify with the characters and simultaneously laugh at those characters within that frame. After initially identifying with the characters, the spectator is then asked to laugh at them
(and thus themselves). The diagrams further illustrate that the relationship between character and frame changes in line with the style of performance.
Furthermore, in light of the point that satirical programs such as Pizza and
Kath & Kim can reinforce a hegemony, I now contend that what appears to be a satirical attack on aspects of society is, in fact, not. In the character‟s attempt to attack a discourse they are ultimately defeated by the narrative and its discourse. Hence the narrative as a form reinforces the hegemony that underlies it. While analysts have argued that narrative development is responsible for the conservative nature of the sitcom, I want to propose here that this is so only when the comedy is satirical in nature.
Whether the characters and their struggle arise from outside a discursive frame, as in Pizza, from within it, as in Kath & Kim, or attempt to shift its boundaries, as in Acropolis Now, what is clearly apparent is that the character is at odds in some way with a social frame. This relationship engenders tension, if not always overt conflict as we see in Pizza. Furthermore, the position of the spectator in relation to the frame and the character is relevant here. It is also evident that the mobility of the frame depends on the relation of the spectator to the character and the hegemony that the series upholds, as we have seen with the Kath & Kim episode, „Roots‟. Kath &
Kim exists within a frame that they attempt to master but also within frames (such as multiculturalism) that they actively deny or denigrate. Hence there can be multiple frames. But above all, I argue that the main/key character‟s struggle arises out of their relationship to each frame.
135 For Mellencamp, the character of Lucy exists within a frame that is unknown to her. Mellencamp uses the notion of Lucy‟s ignorance of her containment as the basis for demonstrating the duality of comic performance and humorous pleasure. Her reading of humorous pleasure is more closely aligned with the spectator‟s dissociation from the character at the moment of the character‟s degradation, rather than with the spectator‟s relation to a discursive frame. But seen in the light of the argument presented in this chapter, it becomes evident that a clash with an unknown frame produces a feeling of unease as per Eco, rather than “humorous” pleasure (and the attendant superiority of the super-ego looking after the ego) as per Freud. Further, I would argue that part of the success of Lucy results from the series‟ capacity to straddle both forms of pleasure: the character attempts to satisfy her (ego) desire (to have a life outside the home), but she is thwarted by a discourse completely unknown to her rather than simply being at odds with her conception of the world. I have argued that Lucy remains unaware of the situation because her narcissism blinds her to the reality of her capacities as well as the discourse of the hegemony that seeks to contain her and exploit her efforts for the benefit of others, especially men. In her attempts to transgress the limit imposed by the discourse of the time, the spectator, especially women, experiences what Mellencamp describes as not only humorous pleasure, but also a “complexity of shifting identifications amidst gendered, historical audiences”.258 The cleverness of Lucy is that both comic performance and humorous pleasure can be experienced.259
258 Patricia Mellencamp, „Situation Comedy, Feminism, and Freud: Discourses of Gracie and Lucy‟. Critiquing the Sitcom (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003), p. 54. 259 Further to the comment in footnote # 130 (Chapter One): Lucy‟s comicality served to obfuscate the real message of the program that women outside the home were seen as buffoons. This gives rise to the perception not only of the character being unconscious of the world within which they exist, but also of the spectator being unconscious of the discursive frames that governs them; this raises the question about the degree to which the contemporary audience of Lucy were aware of the containment by the
136 In light of Eco‟s call for a comedy of transgression, I suggest that it is in the clash with the limit of the unknown frame that Lucy‟s performance moves from
“comedic” to a more physical style of performance. In that transgression Lucy would sit in a new category, the “unknown” frame, but the styles of performance would be a combination of both. Her diagram would be:
“COMEDIC” EXTREME
FRAME UNKNOWN/ UNSEEN
In transgressing the unseen limit, the arrow here depicts the transgression of the frame that was unknown to both Lucy and the spectator. This offers a possible pictorial view of Mellencamp‟s assertion of how Lucy enables both comic performance and humorous pleasure.
Basil from Fawlty Towers is defined by his aspiration to be accepted into the
British Establishment. But, as I argued in the last chapter, he has a secondary frame governed by Sybil‟s disempowering gaze, much like Lucy‟s unseen frame. Basil is trapped in multiple frames, only “transgressing” the unknown frame at the moment of his pained humiliation driven by his desire to attain a goal. Pictorially I depict his struggle as:
frame and how future programs would be devised using such a notion. There are frames which are more invisible or covert within a hegemonic discourse, and while not always clearly observable, I offer they are still felt.
137 The spectator identifies with Basil‟s desire and therefore the arrow moves from him to his Symbolic Ego-Ideal illustrated by the solid line. But the gaze of Sybil is far more covert and therefore unknowable. It is best depicted by the dotted line, indicating that it is an anxiety and as such has no definite object. Much of Basil‟s performance is driven by extreme behaviour rather than by responding to extreme situations as we see in Lucy. Our response to Lucy at the moment of her degradation is different from our response to Basil at his. With Lucy we experience humorous pleasure and some unease in the release at the moment of her degradation, but with
Basil it is pained humiliation for both character and spectator. The spectator‟s pain is never released, unlike with Lucy.
These last two diagrams begin to complicate the notion of the character and their relationship to a frame, whether single or multiple as well as the position of the spectator. We have seen that the struggle of the comic character can arise from their exclusion by cultural or economic circumstances, or simply their confusion as to social expectations. I now argue that it is the tension between the main or key character and a discursive frame, whether known or unknown, attacked or reinforced, but which primarily attempts to subvert or define them, that gives rise to comic performance and indeed to the sub-genre. Further, I have demonstrated that such tension is delivered through the narrative and maintained by the key character‟s relationships and situation (be it the home, pizza shop, cafe, or shopping mall). In coming to read the frame, we can better locate the key character/s and define their struggle.260
260 A final note about “group” sitcoms. There are based on friendships or relationships mainly centred on a work or social place, some examples include: Acropolis Now, The Office, Seinfeld or M*A*S*H. What defines these programs is that while there may be a “key” character , the series depicts a group of characters bound together in some way. Looking at Seinfeld and Acropolis Now, while there is conflict between characters, the narrative enigma of those series instantiates the tension for each of the
138 I have argued that the „Other‟ seeks to contain certain characters in the social and cultural context in which they exist. I now offer that such containments are determined by social discourses, defined in the premise of the series and delivered through the narrative. Further, I have demonstrated that the narrative itself is a frame that reinforces the limits or exposes the desires of the characters; its closed shape determined by the character‟s response to that which threatens their narcissistic sense of self. Having also argued that it is the struggle by the key character for an identity in the social, which they never attain (as it is borne of a conflict that is unknowable, ensuring their entrapment), I now contend that the sitcom can be read through the question: whose struggle is it and how is that struggle manifested?
characters in relation to a social discourse. What binds the characters in Acropolis Now is an attempt to redefine or shift the Anglo view of multiculturalism. In Seinfeld the characters are bound not only by their inability to commit to anyone or a job, but by a refusal to accept the rules and expectations of social decorum and behaviour. M*A*S*H is about a group of medics during the Korean war, and is centred on an ideological opposition to the government that endorses the war. The struggle is between the group and the counterforce of the social hegemony and its discourse, rather than exclusively between characters. However, I would argue that there still exists at least one key character in each program. Even though characters may sling abuse at each other we find that it is not always a struggle for life or death or a sense of self as in the battle of the familial or social wars we have seen, rather it is informed through economics or circumstances, uniting them in some way “against the world” or an unseen „other‟ that threatens their (collective) sense of self. What holds the group together is one question, but a more pertinent question is what or who are they in opposition to? A program like Seinfeld depicts the self absorption of thirty-somethings in the nineties who laugh at the discourse of social manners and expectations and its attempt to thwart their desire and identities. Their “transgression” was clearly demonstrated in the famous last episode. See Joanne Morreale, „Sitcoms say Good-bye. The Cultural Spectacle of Seinfeld‟ in Critiquing the Sitcom (ed. J. Morreale. New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003:274-288).
139
CONCLUSION
Sitcom as a (comic) site of struggle.
This study has set out to offer a new way of reading the television sitcom with the aim of elucidating its comic operation. A central concern has been to demonstrate how narcissism may inform the behaviour of comic characters. To that end I have considered the psychical construction of character that encompasses the sitcom‟s defining features: the repeated degradation of the character, their perpetual entrapment and the closed narrative.
In arguing that there exists in the character a fundamental structure of what some psychoanalysts would call a personality disorder, I have attempted to theorise the disorder, recognising some characters as alienated or „divided‟ subjects. I define such characters as the key character – they are determined by a narcissistic idealisation, but are simultaneously trapped in an echoistic disempowerment of which they are unaware. Their disempowerment occurs primarily in their relationships as an unconscious struggle for power. Unaware of what prevents them achieving their narcissistic idealisation, the key character is compelled to repeat or forget, but never sufficiently works through their problems, making them the comic engine of the program.
140 I have demonstrated that the key character‟s entrapment is further reinforced through their engagement with the narrative in denying any reality that does not accord with their view of the world; in making such choices the narrative is forced back to the re-situation. I have further argued that comicality is enabled by the character‟s relationship to a frame arising from exclusion or imposed cultural and economic limitations. The character‟s struggle with this social frame is variously determined by their position in relation to the frame: outside it, within it and attempting to shift its boundaries, or, indeed, their denial or knowledge of its existence altogether. In attempting to master a discourse or subvert it, the character inevitably fails.
Jokes and gags are enlisted as forms of defence against that which threatens the character‟s identity; more so if their struggle is reinforced by the social discourse that underlies and frames the situation. I have demonstrated that the television sitcom, as a form of comedy, can be satirical in nature by attacking social hegemonies, but regardless of performative style, in the moment of comic degradation the dominant discourses are commonly reinforced. In locating characters and their situation in relation to a discursive frame, and having exposed scenarios of disempowerment, I offer that the sitcom has the potential to transgress previously unknown limits that define us; in doing so it can be progressive. We are now in a position to ask whether the sitcom can assist in the re-definition of discursive frames.
141
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PROGRAMOGRAPHY
Acropolis Now (ATN 7 1989-1992). First went to air: 9 August 1989, 5 series, ending 4 November 1992, 63 episodes. Written and created by: Simon Palomeres, Nick Giannopoulos, George Kapiniaris, Chris Anastassiades. Producers: Peter Herbert, Stanley Walsh, Oscar Whitbread. Directors: Pino Amenta, Ted Emery, Peter Andrikidis. Starring: Simon Palomeres (Rick) Nick Giannopoulos (Jim) George Kapiniaris (Memo), Mary Coustas (Effie) Tracey Callander (Liz).
„Writer‟s Block‟. (1:11). First went to air: 18 June 1990. DVD: Series One, volume three, episode 11. Directed by Pino Amenta. Produced by Peter Herbert. With Mark Pennell as Epsilon.
Kath & Kim (ABCTV 2002-2004; ATN7 2007). First went to air: 16 May 2002, ABCTV, 4 series, comprising 32 episodes and one telemovie. Series four transmitted by ATN 7. Created and written by: Gina Riley and Jane Turner. Produced by: Jane Turner, Gina Riley and Mark Ruse. Director: Ted Emery. Executive Producers: Jane Turner, Gina Riley, Rick McKenna. Executive Producer for the ABC: Robyn Kershaw. (copyright originally ABC, now held by Turner Riley Productions) Starring: Jane Turner (Kath), Gina Riley (Kim), Magda Szubanski (Sharon), Peter Rowsthorn (Brett), Glenn Robbins (Kel).
„The Moon‟. (2:3) First went to air: 2 October 2003, ABCTV. DVD: Series two, episode three. With Sibylla Budd, Helen Thomson, Fiona Todd.
Pizza (SBS 2000-2006). First went to air: 24 April 2000 SBSTV, 5 seasons, 54 episodes. Written, produced, directed by and starring Paul Fenech as Pauly.
„Small and Large Pizza‟. (4:3) transmitted June 13 2005. Magistrate: Michael Craig; Solicitor: Vince Sorrenti; “fugitive”: Guy Sebastian; Bobo: Johnny Boxer; Mama: Maria Venuti; Cop: Murray Harman; Little Cop: David Cooper.
153 SERIES VIEWED (Australian programs in bold)
Absolutely Fabulous (BBC 2, BBC 1, 1992- ) All in the Family (CBS 1971-79) Butterflies (BBC 1978-83) Cheers (NBC 1982-1993) Everybody Loves Raymond (CBS 1996- ) Fawlty Towers (BBC 1975; 1979) („The Hotel Inspectors‟ and „The Germans‟) Frasier (NBC 1993-2004) Friends (NBC 1994-2004) Frontline (ABC 1994-7) Gavin & Stacey (BBC 2007- 2010) George Burns and Gracie Allen Show (CBS 1950-58) Gilligan‟s Island (CBS 1964-67) Hey Dad! (ATN 7 1987- 1994) Hogan‟s Heroes (CBS 1965-71) I Love Lucy (CBS 1951-61) Julia (NBC 1968-71) Mary Tyler Moore Show (CBS 1972-83) M*A*S*H (CBS 1972-83) Mother and Son (ABC 1983-93) My Family (BBC 2000- ) Porridge (BBC 1973-7) Rhoda (CBS 1974-78) Seinfeld (NBC, 1990-99) The Games (ABC 1998-2000) The Librarians (ABC 2008- ) The Office (BBC 2001-3) Will & Grace (NBC 1998- ) Yes Minister (BBC 1980-84)
154