Robert Goldman, HEGEMONY AND MANAGED CRITIQUE IN PRIME-TIME TELEVISION: A Critical Reading of "Mork and Mindy". Reprinted from Theory & Society, 11 (May 1982): pp.363-388, Part 5.

A Stunted Dialectic of Managed Critique

The M & M series holds within its fractions a dialectic of uneven and sometimes contradictory messages. On the one hand, the series accommodates a spontaneous and playful attitude that elicits reflexivity on the part of viewers. For instance, Williams' spontaneous capsulized enactment of a Playboy centerfold captures a condensed description of a social relationship and its code, the fetishism of women as eroticized objects and appearances. Moreover, as portrayed by Williams, Mork consistently embraces antiauthoritarian positions. But this comedic protest against the flattened authoritarian consciousness dispensed via the screen of commercial culture is negated by what it seeks to negate. Comically, Williams resists the constrains of standard categorization procedures, but television packages and sells its product on the basis of formulas, slogans, and jingles, and in so doing reduces the logic of spontaneity and creativity to the passive logic of mimicry. Adjacent industries reinforce this mimicry: Mattel's "talking Mork rag doll" "chatters 'Na-No, Na-No' and 9 other sayings when you pull the ring" (my emphasis). Additionally, the form and content of the series tend to contradict Mork's mini-critiques that punctuate each episode. The structure of the show - the framing of problems and proposed solutions or coping mechanisms - "channel [s] consciousness into the mode of liberal reform."31 Although the show's writers often attack warped and irrational surface features of daily life in our society, the absence of a firm theoretical framework prevents sustained critical analysis. Instead, philosophy of liberal humanitarian reform is espoused. Episodes typically conclude in homilies that derive from a combination of liberal individualism, pluralism, and a clichéd philosophy of universal humanism.

The lack of theoretical coherence produces ambiguity, whereas conflicting messages result from discrepant structural demands confronting those in the positions that make up the cultural production apparatus. The presentation of meanings and messages is not restricted to the formal confines of the show itself, but also takes place via network promotional ads for the show (the choice of what is included and what is not affects viewers' "framing" of the show) and through print media coverage. The consequent conflicting messages generated by the tendency towards the mode of liberal reform and the noncongruent structural demands faced by these various media sectors are illustrated by an episode dealing with sex discrimination. We begin with a statement of intent from Garry Marshall, the producer of the series, as quoted by the gossip columnist Marilyn Beck.

We do make a lot of biting comments about a lot of situations - like conditions in hospitals and bigotry. We've got a strong one planned about the boy-girl relationship, about macho, male chauvinism that will really be laced with some biting comments. We're planning to use the Denver cheerleaders in that one, to help us prove our point-

Beck, in the role of media functionary, adds, "Which you can be sure, won't hurt Mork's rating points in the least."32 Here we find a statement that the show intends to satirize male chauvinism immediately followed by a recontextualization or reframing of sexism as a motivation for viewing the show. Likewise, the promotional clips employ the implied promise of attractive, scantily clad women (the prurient appeal of "Ts & As") to sell a show about male chauvinism. This apparent contradiction is amplified by the content of the episode itself, which using the device of role reversal presents a strong endorsement of equal rights legislation. In fact, these apparently contradictory or discontinuous messages are "linked at a deep level of meaning."33 Although the show proposes a legalistic solution to the problem of sex discrimination in employment, it continues to convey a deeper residual logic and ideology depicting women as packaged sexual commodities. Gitlin's thesis concerning television's relationship to the mode of liberal reform is applicable to this episode. "They may even create an issue and seem to disrupt the status quo -but only because the status quo is itself shifting. The attempt is to reach a new, more reliable center of gravity."34 This episode and the attendant comments about it reveal one of the ways in which cultural change is unintentionally managed and channeled to reinforce dominant ideologies. The production of ambiguous meanings tends to benefit, or work to the advantage of, those sets of established beliefs and values toward which the viewing public is already predisposed.

Additional structural factors set limits on critical discourse and neutralize the oppositional features of the show. The most obvious factors include network control, censorship, and commercial sponsorship. In its second season the series ran afoul of the ABC standards and practices executives with regard to episodes critical of the oil corporations, nuclear power, and television advertising. The network's handling of an episode critical of current approaches to nuclear power casts in sharp relief the political sociology of network television's management of messages. The network promotional effort during the week preceding the episode made no mention of the anti-nuke stance. Instead, employing the "Happy Days" format, the 10-second promotional spots tell of Mork joining the army and Mindy following, in disguise, to try and keep him out of trouble. Why emphasize a transparent element of a narrative action that is merely a vehicle for addressing the topic of how well we are being safeguarded from nuclear accidents? Why, indeed, was the network concerned with the anti-nuke position taken by the show? Was the show that was aired the show that was initially proposed? Did the network believe that the anti-nuclear power theme would antagonize advertisers? Was the network motivated by a concern for maximizing ratings? One can easily imagine a network executive saying "people don't want to hear about the problems of nuclear power. They want to escape those problems. Just give them entertainment." Or was the network seeking to restrict the parameters of public discourse by impeding the presentation of oppositional ideologies?

The reasons for the network's opposition are a matter of conjecture. Whatever the reasons, the framing device of the promotional spots functions to detract (and distract) from the viewer's capacity independently to read the whole text. The framing device neutralizes a portion of the show's messages through its falsification of the show's purpose. The promotional spots become a means of manipulating the guidelines for textual analysis in the interest of ideological consensus. From what was attention distracted by this framing device? The show chides the government and the nuclear industry for both failing to bring to public attention the dangers concerning the management of nuclear waste disposal (Mork asks, you mean you do not have "nuke-away" in "pine scent?") and covering up accidents. The episode ends by addressing the issue of the public's right to information. In a pointed exchange between Mork and Orson, Mork contends that the problem is the government and its penchant for secrecy. When Orson avers that this is because the government does not want to burden people with too much information (the technocratic justification; let experts handle it), Mork counters that people have a right to know everything that may have an effect on their well-being (the correlate of his argument is that democracy and deception do not mix). Orson (synonymous, here, with establishment power) then turns off the lights.

The structure of the media industry and the viewing habits of television audiences also counteract the critical dimensions of the show. For example, given the privatized features of television viewing, we may suspect that the anarchism of Mork and his advocacy of personalized resistance are interpreted by many as a justification for the privatized hedonism in which they are engaged. For many, Mork's craziness is pure escapism. Here we encounter the dialectic of the mind-play performed by Williams in the role of Mork. On the one hand, this mind-play is subversive of established categories; on the other hand, it can become an opiate for the isolated spectator. Indeed, the privatized mode of viewing encourages a noncritical reception of messages, as it structures the activity in ways that discourage discourse. One alternative is to "watch television critically together, confronting our reactions and speaking face-to-face about what television has taught us or has pretended to teach us."35 Still another consideration is evident in the media's interpretation of this media event. In one magazine after another Robin Williams has undergone transmogrification into a "star," a commodity whose clothes become voguish and whose "zany" "boyish" visage stares out from dolls and posters. His labor, his art, and his message are subordinated to the "cult of personality". In this fashion the media generates new sources of profit and depoliticizes this form of comedic critique. In their coverage the print media have systematically resituated Robin Williams/Mork within the following hegemonic representations - each, in itself, a packaged coding of a lexicon of domination: (1) the great WASP hope, (2) an "impish" new sex symbol, (3) "how Mork found God," (4) an "overnight" success based on long, hard work. Ironically, one of the show's early episodes prophesies this outcome. A reporter for a sensationalist rag, the "American Enquirer," offers $25,000 for proof of an alien being. As Mork ponders whether to turn himself in for the reward, the dialogue turns toward criticism of the cult of stardom. The national media are described as reducing performers to a lowest common denominator, that of "celebrity". This ultimately leads, says Mork, to a box on the Hollywood Squares; a fate that Mork describes, imitating the intonation of Paul Lynde, as "disgusting!"

Postscript