Tumgik
#it's not about MY content curation because they were inescapable last year
ballsballsbowls · 6 months
Text
.
4 notes · View notes
erictmason · 5 years
Text
THEY’RE GONNA WRECK IT: A “Ralph Breaks The Internet” Review
Tumblr media
I don’t know that I ever would have told you that the original “Wreck-it Ralph”, one of the more pleasant surprises of post-Pixar-merger Disney, “needed” a sequel; the original’s story was compelling and complete enough on its own.  But the characters were so much fun to spend time with and the world felt so intrinsically interesting that it also seemed like a prime candidate to give a sequel to anyway.  And to its credit “Ralph Breaks The Internet” starts from a premise clearly designed to keep it from simply being a needless retread of the original, trading the halls of an old Arcade for the world wide web.  Unfortunately, the resulting film, while not exactly a TOTAL wash, also feels like it’s learned all the wrong lessons from its predecessor, taking an anted-up version of the first movie’s playful Video Game in-jokes that were there a mere garnish and here turning them into an inescapable aspect of the entire story that severely compromises its narrative integrity.
(SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT)
(SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT)
(SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT)
(SPOILER SPACE)
(SPOILER SPACE)
(SPOILER SPACE)
Said narrative picks up six years after the events of the original, with Ralph happy as can be with his lot in life nowadays: thanks to his friendship with “Sugar Rush” superstar Vanellope Von Schweetz, he’s more than content to just do his job and hang out with her goofing off all night.  Vanellope, however, feels increasingly constrained by the repetitive limits of her closed-off racing world, leading Ralph to try and give her a new surprise or two to cheer her up; unfortunately that just leads to "Sugar Rush” getting broken.  Ralph and Vanellope thus decide to venture into the arcade’s newly connected Wi-Fi system to reach The Internet in hopes of finding the part necessary to fix the game before it’s permanently unplugged.  
Which kind of sounds like a bit of an overcooked premise, and indeed the number of contrivances the movie throws at you more or less right out the gate to get to where it wants to go speaks to the problem at the heart of the whole thing, but to start things out on a relatively positive note: Ralph and Vanellope remain a great pair of characters, and if nothing else the opening few minutes of the movie honestly do make for a pleasant little coda to the first movie.  More to the point, there actually IS something admirable about how this movie chooses to dig into how their characters have changed and where they stand:  now that he has an anchor of affirmation in Vanellope, Ralph is able to find acceptance and fulfillment in the same places he once felt rejected by...but once that anchor is threatened (as it is when Vanellope finds herself increasingly attracted to the idea of staying online in the wild and unpredictable world of an online racer called “Slaughter Race”), all of his old insecurities begin to surface.  Meanwhile the same drive to strive for something greater that drove Vanellope in the first movie has now begun to slowly but surely push her out of “Sugar Rush”; this one’s a bit shakier (and the movie fumbles it pretty much completely in the execution but we’ll get to that) but you really can see the emotional logic it works on in a way that adds up, especially because the movie genuinely has the courage of its convictions and chooses to pursue it to its most logical conclusion rather than try to hedge its bets or chicken out at the last minute.  
As well, basically all of the new characters work.  The obvious highlight is Gal Gadot as Shank, the Boss Character of “Slaughter Race”; even as her presence in the movie overall is surprisingly limited given her importance to the main emotional arc that (eventually) reveals itself as the heart of the story, she is nonetheless an immediately enjoyable presence, at once tough as nails and On The Edge (one of the movie’s better sight gags is how the world of “Slaughter Race” is bathed in the reds and browns that dominated Video Games for most of the mid-00′s and Shank feels right at home in that tone) but also a caring figure who looks at her job with a genuine sense of Duty and Honor.  Likewise Taraji P. Henson’s Yesss is delightful, a beaming bouncing presence whose constantly-changing look is a consistent delight (and who may have the most enjoyably subtle details of animation of any character in the movie with the way her coat lights up whenever she gets excited being a personal favorite).  But even minor characters like the Search Engine curator Knowsmore (our now-traditional Alan Tudyk role) and Bill Hader’s J.P. Spamley are genuinely fun new additions to the overall cast.  You do find yourself wishing they could maybe get a bit more screen time or else be better integrated into the overall story, but even so I really liked just about all of them and they do a lot to buoy the whole thing.
Unfortunately none of them, nor the movie’s clever-if-not-especially-original conception of what “The Internet” would mean to this kind of world (my personal favorite touch might be portraying pop-up ads as old-school Newsies), can really add up to much in the face of the larger problem here.  See, even though they’re a relatively minor presence in the overall movie, the original “Wreck-it Ralph” hyped up the presence of its various Video Game character cameos (many of whom return here), and the attendant in-jokes that came with them.  “Ralph Breaks The Internet” apparently seems to have the mistaken belief that it was this wink-wink nudge-nudge meta-humor at the original’s margins that was in fact the key to its success and thus, using The Internet as a launching pad to broaden its range of targets, has made that element much, much more prominent this time around.  Sometimes that does make for amusing gags; the extended (and heavily-touted) scene where Vanellope meets the other Disney Princesses is indeed a particular highlight, and the one sequence where the movie comes even remotely close with reconciling its desire to indulge in fairly tired meta-textual snark with actually trying to tell any sort of real story.  Far more often we have to deal with things like how a joke about Ralph making the age-old mistake of reading the comments stands in for any kind of actual attempt to show how his old anxieties are resurfacing (in a moment that fails to land almost completely; it is honestly impossible to tell while watching it how seriously the movie expects us to take it), or even more frustrating how Vanellope’s realization that she wants to stay in “Slaughter Race” is told to us through an incredibly ineffectual and far too self-aware parody of the old Disney-style “I Want” song.  That Vanellope would in fact choose to leave Sugar Rush behind is already the biggest buy-in the movie asks us to make of its characters, so that failed short-cut proves especially harmful to the overall arc here.  It all leads to a finale that feels like it could, indeed even should, work for how frankly it chooses to tackle the underlying emotional problems at the heart of the story, but it ultimately can’t because the movie just flat-out has not done the work to really earn it.
There are other smaller problems as well; Fix-it Felix and Calhoun, the primary side-characters from the first film, are here given what feels like it should be the lead-in to an enjoyable and inspired B-story of their own but instead wind up being nothing more than glorified cameos.  I’m also not super fond of how the movie actively begs the audience to question the logical nature of its world and characters as often (and seemingly without much thought) as it does.  But the real fundamental issue here is that “Ralph Breaks The Internet” just plain cannot square its two competing impulses; the desire to actually try and tell a story that meaningfully expands on the original’s characters in some genuinely-daring ways is ultimately undone by the far-stronger drive to weigh it all down beneath a lot of knowing referential humor that feels far less relevant and insightful than the writers think it is.  There really is something good deep in the heart of all of this, but, sad as it is to say, it basically gets wrecked this time around.
21 notes · View notes
bradypnoea · 3 years
Note
As a new Loki and Tom Hiddleston fan, I’m actually pretty jealous to see someone (aka you) be a fan of his for over 10 years now. I didn’t even know that TH has also played Loki for 10 years as well. What’s it like supporting the actor as well as witness what the filmmakers have done to his character? You’ve probably seen so much happen within the fandom and I wish I got to see how rowdy and wild it got (but at the same time, I’m glad I avoided that).
First of all, welcome! I'm terrible at joining fandoms full stop so I have to commend you on jumping in at such a tumultuous time. I’ll try to make this a brief overview of the early days, ‘cause I know I could go on for hours. I can’t speak to the atmosphere on platforms other than Tumblr really, though I have a vague awareness of the goings-on and Major Historical Events on Facebook and Twitter. 
Honestly, my comparably extensive experience as a My Chemical Romance fan prepared me well for this fandom, with minor differences (obviously). From 2011-2015, I had to describe Tom by way of, “Did you see Thor/The Avengers? He plays Loki. No, he doesn’t look gaunt and greasy in real life.” Similar to band forums and chat boards, Tumblr offered a respite from that. A major portion of the contemporary user-base was a direct reflection of the surge in UK media popularity, propelled by personalities that enjoyed — let’s say — ‘off-center’ pop culture. The TWH fandom grew steadily yet in my opinion managed to retain an almost insular climate, though I remember Loki content wasn’t far removed from the inescapable Superwholock deluge which annoyed many users.
Day to day happenings were almost mundane: Tom tweeted with some regularity, shared daily song recommendations, interacted with replies, and posted seemingly anything that popped into his head. It felt almost gratuitous, particularly the second half of 2013, the earnest sincerity and encouragement of his own supporters. Tumblr seized that energy and used it as inspiration. Artists became well known for incredible graphics work, fic writers gained popularity in and outside of Tumblr, blogs popped up cataloguing photos of the man himself in varying degrees of tight trousers, the prominence of few cosplayers elicited threads of discourse which continue to this day. If I recall correctly a few fan projects actually made their way to Tom, notably a photobook involving ‘Wendy’ the false moustache. (I think there may still exist a self-recorded video documenting his receipt/reaction of it?) And I have to specifically mention the user Torilla, whose tireless work in sourcing and providing high quality photos to the masses cannot be overstated.
Such is the nature of modern fandom however, when a person attracts such a large number of supporters, the support can quickly shift from admiration to expectation to violation. I can’t recall the exact dates offhand but between ‘13-’15, personal photos were taken from Facebook and widely shared, real people were impersonated online by fans, crowds started to become physically threatening. Not to mention the increasingly invasive actions of paparazzi and fan photographers. When ‘Coriolanus’ premiered at the Donmar late 2013 it was presumed that Tom’s activity on Twitter had declined due to a busy working schedule; by the end of the play’s run, stage door signings had been suspended for safety and privacy concerns. 
Throughout 2014, between back to back to back to back projects, fan misbehaviour, and growing scrutiny on how public figures presented themselves online, it was rare to hear anything firsthand. By the time The Night Manager began filming in summer ‘15 the Tumblr fandom comprised discussions of production footage, press releases, a few interviews, and fan-generated content. In my mind that was the last period that the ‘community’ felt manageable — discourse was inevitable but fairly reasonable, even as films were unfavourably reviewed by critics.
Then came May 2016, and nothing was ever the same. Okay lmao that’s so melodramatic, but it’s not inaccurate! I’m not going into detail here but believe me, only since the West End run of ‘Betrayal’ has the fandom been revived to a sustainable degree. Optimism felt like a chore, especially when ‘Endgame’ premiered, and there was no shortage of negative assumptions about Tom’s seemingly indefinite hiatus from appearing on screen. Certainly, other users will have differing experiences and opinions on the 2016-2018 period, but I truly can’t imagine anyone was having an overly pleasant time.
As for my personal support/witnessing of MCU Loki’s character development, I probably have an unusually pessimistic-passive set of expectations, and it’ll be very interesting to return to this after I’ve watched the series! The Internet Joke goes something like, “I respect your interpretation of this character unless it’s different than mine,” which is funny! But I learned it’s almost a waste of energy to attempt interpreting nearly any MCU character because the inconsistent writing. I remember my dissatisfaction during the first watch of ‘The Dark World’ and afterward reading that Loki’s death was reversed when early test audiences reacted with confusion and disappointment, I understood then that the broad appeal of Loki was so necessary for profit that Marvel/Disney would never allow the character the room to shock and potentially repulse audiences like I wanted. 
Clearly I’m still intrigued by fan interpretations because I’m consuming and curating fanworks for zero dollars(!!) but I let go of the expectation to be satisfied by canon MCU content, though I’ll admit it hasn’t stopped me from being disappointed by MCU writing! It also hasn’t softened the disappointment of encountering poor fan behaviour, but of course I pick my battles on that front. I’ve heard curiosity and compassion can solve all problems in time so I’ll keep working on that, offering it when I can.
With that I have to thank you for your interest and your kind message, I hope you find a few people to really connect with, and feel free to return to me if you’d like. My fingers are crossed for the next few years to be more pleasant for us, and the fandom can meet one another on respectable terms, learn and grow and all that. No accounting for trolls on Twitter though lmao
Oh! My favourite direction to send interested newcomers is toward the inactive remnant of thfrustration.tumblr.com (link), the preeminent Tumblr fan-fiction catalogue established in May 2012. It’s a nicely preserved record of the Golden Age as I like to call it. Be prepared to cringe a little! Much love. b|x
0 notes
stormsbourne · 7 years
Text
since dirkcourse is going on god knows I gotta open my mouth
I’m not trying to vague here cause god knows I hate vagueing but I want to weigh in on the current dirkcourse so here’s this. it’s addressed at all the of the dirk tag and current discourse going around. 
(for reference in this post I am defining soft dirk as a dirk who has the narrative/artistic focus more on his softer or gentler traits, his love for his friends or his desperate crush on jake english, instead of his manipulative tendencies or his facade of assholishness or his need to try and be stoic 24/7. it dwells more on his intense feelings for other people and self-sacrificing over perceived elitism or snide condescension, both of which are traits that I feel dirk only plays up as part of his “coolguy” persona. the appearance part is mostly unrelated aside from some stuff about hypermasculinity we’ll get into in a second)
anyway if it’s longtime fandom cred we’re going for, here’s my experience, as someone who’s read homestuck since 2010:
it was impossible to escape abuser dirk. 
people posted shit in the dirk and dirkjake tags on the daily reminding you that if you didn’t “acknowledge” how abusive their relationship was, you were an apologist. trying to counter this argument got you angry posts from various people in the group perpetuating that. you got called an apologist. accused of shouting over survivors. in the rare cases that survivors spoke up and asked to please stop getting called apologist for shipping something fucking fictional between teenagers, they were told to stop shouting over minors. they were told they needed to stop defining their lives by their abuse. they were asked why they hadn’t grown up and gotten over it. they had campaigns and crusades and mocking group circlejerks going after them for expressing a view of dirk that didn’t align with popular fanon.
I wouldn’t say this is the popular reading of dirk anymore. but the only reason I’d say that’s true is because the people driving this, the people making sure everyone knew abuser dirk was “canon,” aren’t into homestuck much anymore, aside from one or two of them. but you have to understand, this shit was inescapable. big names in the fandom lexicon, like shelby, treated dirk’s abusiveness as an obvious fact. you couldn’t write dirk meta without either dancing franticallly around the subject or just disclaiming it at the beginning with “I know dirk is an abuser,” even if you didn’t agree with it. if you didn’t do these things, you were guaranteed asks and condescending vague posts or callouts about you disagreeing. 
and for that matter, the idea that it’s completely gone away isn’t even true. landofsomethingsomething didn’t even get into homestuck until last year and didn’t start writing fic until post act 7 and still got an ask demanding why she shipped dirkjake, couldn’t she see how unhealthy and bad it was? didn’t she care about the opinions of survivors? 
all of this is without touching on how big masculine semi-wolverine dirk was the more popular version in fanart (especially in het, but also in slash) and how usually he looked like a miniature bro, often older than the other characters. this is without talking about how people deliberately read in the worst to everything he said, pointing to his “let’s go raiding” line with jake and shouting about how manipulative that was or him breaking up with jake as proof he was trying to force jake to hook back up with him. this is without touching on how the phrase “strider manpain” became a blanket mocking phrase to make fun of anybody who cared about dirk or dave’s feelings -- complete with mocking anybody who thought dave’s selfie shit was a semi-mental breakdown (which it was) or that dirk sitting on the edge of the roof was him contemplating suicide (which it sort of was, but to be technical, it was more suicide-plus-murder). 
artists left homestuck fandom because the discourse wore them out. several artists I personally FOLLOW deleted most of their dirkjake content because they didn’t want to deal with the discourse anymore and they were tired of being called apologist. one artist made a misstep with some of their art and got so bombarded by asks calling them an abuse apologist and rape supporter that they pretty much quit tumblr for weeks. several dirkjakes I know have expressed that during the 2011-2014 (or so, it depends) era they were outright afraid to participate in the fandom. even most of the popular dirkjake content producers (who I’m sure are on the list of “soft dirks”) bought into the dialogue that dirk was abusive. that’s without getting into how dudebros kicked it up, how dudebros talked about that andrew hussie only wrote dirkjake to mock slashers and “prove” to them that slash between two random dudes could never work. that’s without talking about how dudebros figured dirk, such a violent person, could only have black feelings for jake. that’s without talking about how dirk/uu people routinely either gave dirkjakes the runaround for “denying abuse” or talked about how dirk, as a gay dude, was OBVIOUSLY too hardcore and too kinky for a gentle cinnamon roll like jake. (and the “cinnamon roll jake” discourse is something I could write about 5 more posts about.)
it was inescapable.
look, I know fandom is gigantic and what you see depends on the following you curate, but keep in mind that applies both ways. just because you never saw it doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. I’m sure there were corners of fandom where this dialogue wasn’t mainstream and softboy dirk was. but in a lot of the fandom, abusive hypermasculine wolverine sideburns dirk was the only thing we saw. asshole dirk was all we could find because if you didn’t do asshole dirk, you were Problematic.
124 notes · View notes
onenationprinc-blog · 6 years
Text
Is tech finally killing radio? Don’t let iHeart’s bleeding fool you
mith Collection/Gado/Getty Images Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images In the past five months, the two largest radio conglomerates in the United States have separately filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. In November, the second largest radio company in America, Cumulus, pulled the lever, and just last week its rival iHeartRadio did the same. Both conglomerates were slowly bled dry by an inability to pay back billions of dollars of debt acquired during two decades of serial expansion and buyouts. At first glance, it might appear as though the terrestrial radio stations are broadcasting from their death beds. Balance sheets and politicians can make it seem as though radio is struggling and unnecessary in the high tech era. But once you dig below the surface into the reality of the industry, you quickly realize the format itself isn’t the problem. “Currently the medium is very strong, much stronger than you would believe from reading all the hype about every other form of audio,” says Ken Freedman, general manager of New Jersey’s WFMU, the longest-running freeform radio station in the United States. “Podcasting, internet audio, streaming, physical audio, every other form of audio has gotten so much press, but the numbers still belong to radio by far.” Radio America Believe it or not, radio is — hands down — the most popular entertainment medium in the United States. The format has astronomical engagement numbers, reaching 93 percent of those who live in the country. That’s better than the adoption of TV (89 percent), computers (50 percent), and even smartphones (83 percent). Believe it or not, radiois king, reaching 93 percent of those who live in the country According to media relations firm News Generation, 271 million Americans over the age of six listen to the radio every single week. And that’s not just limited to what goes out over the airwaves. Internet radio is more popular than ever, having reached over 53 percent of Americans over the age of twelve as of 2017, according to the Pew Research Center. So what’s going on here? The billion dollar question, it turns out, isn’t when will terrestrial radio fail, but why it’s struggling in the first place. The Birth of Corporate Radio The roots of iHeartRadio and Cumulus’ dominance in the market – as well as their ultimate Chapter 11 filings – can all be traced back to the Telecommunications act of 1996. While ostensibly created to foster competition, the act, which marked the first major radio reform since the FCC was created in the ‘30s, opened the floodgates to large corporate ownership in the radio industry by stripping limitations on the maximum number of stations a single business could own. Prior to 1996, one company could not own more than 40 radio stations in the country. After 1996, it was essentially a free-for-all. “They could now own hundreds and hundreds of stations, so that’s what happened,” says Freedman, ”They grew incredibly fast. They tried to save costs by centralizing the programming decisions, and even centralizing the announcing so that you would have one announcer in Chicago or in New York doing the announcements for hundreds of stations all over the country.” Prior to 1996, one company could not own more than 40 radio stations in the country. After 1996, it was essentially a free-for-all. It might seem easy to blame the shift from strong regional stations to large, homogeneous channels — many of which even share the same name across markets — for big radio’s current financial problems. After all, lower-quality content should eventually lead to lower listenership numbers and worse ad revenue. But contrary to the headlines you may have seen lately, the corporate radio industry still generates massive revenues each year. The real source of corporate radio’s struggles is a more complicated tale of entangled financial agreements, corporate takeovers, and ballooning debt. At the end of the day, the two biggest players in corporate radio simply became overleveraged, didn’t meet projected growth, and as a result, were unable to pay down their massive debts. That both iHeartRadio and Cumulus went through similar dire straits in such a tight timeframe can be chalked up to sheer coincidence; iHeartRadio alone had been holding on by a shoestring since at least 2010. Ultimately, though, both companies appear as though they will emerge relatively unscathed – in the short term, anyway. iHeartRadio has already reached an agreement with investors to restructure its debt from $20 billion down to $10 billion, and Cumulus will likely do the same in short order. A slow death  That’s not to say there aren’t some serious warning signs ahead for radio’s corporate overlords. While the mass homogenization of content may not be directly related to the current financial struggles of big radio, it’s hard to see how it won’t affect them in the future. As digital ad sales continue to grow by double digits each year, more traditional ad-based industries — TV, print, and radio — have all seen slow-but-steady declines. Phillip Faraone/Getty Images Phillip Faraone/Getty Images As music streaming services continually improve on their radio-style playlist algorithms, and an increasing number of new cars come with network connectivity built-in, it may become difficult for corporate stations to compete. After all, digital mediums like Spotify and Pandora have significantly more information about each person’s individual listening habits than stations do, meaning they will eventually be able to provide even better targeted content and ad placement. Score one for the little guy While ad-revenue may be trending downward, radio remains the cornerstone of music discovery in the United States. According to Nielsen’s annual Music 360 report, 49 percent of Americans use the format to find their favorite new music — significantly more than other sources. Many argue that the best way for radio to stay relevant in the evolving market is to offer the kind of human touch that made it so popular in the first place. That’s still offered by the small number of public and private stations that craft their content for smaller and medium sized markets. While the vast majority local stations were unable to escape the corporate takeover, those that did have seen steadily increasing ratings since corporate radio stations first took over the airwaves in the late ‘90s. The best way for radio to stay relevant is to offer the same human touch that made it popular. “In some ways the [iHeartRadio] model has been helpful because a lot of people who still want diversity, objectivity, entertainment, and choice in their programming tend to spend time on the left side of the dial now,” says Matt Fleeger, station manager of Oregon’s publically funded jazz station KMHD. “What boggles my mind is that it [would] be so easy for commercial radio to just transition back into this. But the fact of the matter is that investors and board members just aren’t willing to go back.” Corporate leaders may want to take a lesson from smaller competitors if they want to compete in the music market long term. The best case study for this comes via satellite radio giant SiriusXM. SiriusXM remains among the only profitable paid music services, and relies heavily on curated content and celebrity hosts to drive listenership, leveraging its wide reach with a human touch that relates well to subscribers. Though it does lack the same targeted local appeal as smaller FM stations, the company has reaped the rewards of thoughtful, non-algorithmic programming. Meanwhile, local stations like KMHD and WFMU are not only prospering over the airwaves, they’ve also seen a dramatic increase of listenership online. Two thirds of WFMU’s listeners now tune in via the internet, and both stations are exploring ways to compete with streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music in the growing on-demand music market. Freedman sees the expanded reach of WFMU and stations like it as a result of their inescapable human elements. In the future, he thinks this personal touch will be integral to maintaining the viability of radio as an entertainment medium as a whole. “I think that, in a way, the amount of musical algorithms and recommendation engines that are proliferating leave a lot to be desired,” Freedman says, “I know people of all ages who tell me that they just like WFMU as a companion because there is a human being there.” Whether or not corporate radio will revert to a more personal business model over the next few decades remains to be seen. Without doing so, KMHD’s Fleeger thinks they may be in trouble as digital services continue to proliferate. Once radio becomes less of a go-to option in cars and at work, without a good reason to listen to a particular station, people simply may not do so. “It’s like making a sandwich,” Fleeger says of hand-curated radio formatting, “At the end of the day there are ways to improve on how to make the sandwich a little bit. But when it stops being a sandwich that anybody wants to eat, then you probably fucked up the sandwich.” Editors’ Recommendations https://www.digitaltrends.com/music/is-tech-finally-killing-radio-dont-let-ihearts-bleeding-fool-you/ https://blog.cyberprosocial.com/2018/03/24/is-tech-finally-killing-radio-dont-let-ihearts-bleeding-fool-you/
0 notes
Text
intro: burnout
When I heard about the premise of the show, I was apprehensive. Think back to late February, in the thick of a voting period that had spanned weeks. We learned that a new reality show had been submitted to the Korean Media Rating Board, called ‘Burn The Stage.’ Episodes “101” and “102” were under review. Translators kindly broke down the details, and this was the early lowdown: we would be getting a behind the scenes documentary style look at the group. We would get to see their backstage trials, their conflicts, who they were when the cameras were “off”, so to speak. And we would be getting multiple episodes.
An Army’s default state is one that is lush with content. Even the freshest of fans who stumbled in from the storm of last year's combination of releases and milestones are already up to their neck in officially sanctioned updates. There's no shortage of behind the scenes footage, tweets, fancafe posts and sporadic mysteries to preoccupy the bubbly fan base and that push for continuous locomotion coming from the root is given the credit for maintaining such a devoted and growing fandom by outsiders looking in. On a personal level, I think that assumption rings true because it is a magnetic and seemingly bottomless experience. One day's radio silence promises the chaos of the next.
As the pile of information grew around this new venture, the less surprised I was by it. Nothing about the project seemed outlandish or like a departure from what we had seen before. BTS already had an extensive history with “authentic” content which cemented their genuine image in the public mind. As fans, we already had the Bangtan Bomb collection, the ever ongoing Run!BTS series, as well as Bon Voyage seasons 1 and 2 as thorough primers. By then the hours of footage we had collectively sifted through would have entered the ballpark of hundreds if not thousands. And you could say what made me feel so uneasy was just that.
I had begun to wonder over the last few months whether it felt exhausting on the other side of the lens to be subject to so much filming and whether a fanbase that already had so much had a need or the right to receive even more. In the current alternative media landscape we’ve seen people whose livelihoods rely on the vlogging model reckon with that exhaustion, and we’ve seen the creative and emotional consequences of being burnt out. And with regard to BTS, they have additional obligations as described by the nature of their actual jobs which include a set of TV and digital appearances (now including foreign media). That, combined with the frequency of Bangtan Bomb uploads, and variety show pre-filming, is a lot of time spent being aware of a camera’s presence. As genuine as they are, there is an inescapable impulse to perform when you know someone is watching which isn’t exclusive to idols who’ve undergone  comprehensive image training. Everyone is susceptible to straightening their backs and sanding down their edges when they’re being seen, even by their inner circles. I began to wonder what it does to a person to be seen as much as BTS are.
I also dreaded the intrusion of it all. A group field trip into the few spaces where they don’t have to be polished, mindful and proper disguised as entertainment. Hand in hand with that idea comes the opportunity for people to dissect their behaviour, play wannabe psychoanalyst and fuss over what they might say or do that doesn’t align perfectly with the people we think they are. The scale of this kind of behaviour also worried me as the number of eyes on them had grown so exponentially in the span of a year. What of the people waiting in the wings to take things out of context for a spark of attention at their expense?
All this wasn’t to say I wasn’t still looking forward to it as a fan, but it weighed on my mind that Big Hit seemed to think was the best (and only) way to maintain relevance was to make fans feel like they knew these boys more so than they actually do. And I feel like that's dangerous.
It’s always been a staple of K-pop fandoms to have the group of fans who feel like they, for lack of better phrasing, own the artists they pour support (and money) into. For the most part, I’ve felt like those kinds of people are in a clear minority in our fandom, but their existence persists. 2017 was a comet of a year for BTS and us as fans, and riding on the sparkling tail of it would be a show that had the intention of laying them bare for all to see as far as we knew. The members have been notably open for people who operate in a very curated entertainment machine. They’ve been willing to be vulnerable. But this? Initial episode descriptions said that one featured Jungkook being unwell on camera. Another would centre around an argument between Jin and Taehyung and the aftermath of that.
I wondered if it was right to be invited into such close quarters. One might argue here that this is a case of the overprotective helicopter-fan, downplaying the agency of a group comprised of adults. I don’t want to be misunderstood. I’m sure that there is a constant and sincere dialogue between the entities at Big Hit and the members. Whatever is in the output pile at the company is likely fed to fans with the seal of every member’s approval, but to me it’s just more of a question of whether it’s necessary. Why do we need to see someone we all love struggle and suffer before a show? Why capture a conflict on film? Why broadcast it for people to pick at? What does that kind of exposure serve to people who are already in their corner which will be the target viewer demographic anyway?
There’s no reason to not already carry the belief that we support good people who put their hearts into their work. The stories of their near superhuman dedication to excellent performances in spite of exhaustion are ubiquitous, and we know they care about each other fiercely, but don’t they deserve the space to be as human as we know they are? Does everything have to be witnessed to be true?
When the dust settled, I understood that there was nothing that could be done about the decision to go forward with a project like this. I could only hope that those involved had taken the best and kindest course of action in the production of the show, and ultimately, I, too, would hit play when the time came. Even so, I expect that this uneasiness won’t let up until we’re on the other side.
Sources & Credit:
1
0 notes