Smoking is bad!

Put down that pipe, Bilbo!

More big studios are beginning to play right into the hands of the heavy anti-smoking campaigns, which seem to be the new trend in current pop discourse. The New York Times' Michael Cieply reports that more Hollywood studios are beginning to buckle under the pressure of these mega-strong campaigns working to halt the promotion and glorification of smoking in cinema and entertainment:

"In July, the Walt Disney Company said it would ban smoking in its Disney-branded movies, like the “Pirates of the Caribbean” series, while trying to discourage tobacco use in youth-rated movies from its Miramax and Touchstone units. A spokesman for the Sony Corporation’s Sony Pictures Entertainment said the studio — which showed tobacco use in all three of its PG-13 rated “Spider-Man” films — has a policy under which it tries to discourage the depiction of tobacco products in youth-oriented films.

Viacom is meanwhile scrambling to devise a smoking policy of its own, having been assured two weeks ago by Mr. Crosby and his allies that it was increasingly out of step with its studio brethren. That warning came about because antismoking groups had recently discovered that the News Corporation and its 20th Century Fox Film division were already on the bandwagon, thanks to a strict though intentionally unpublicized policy of rooting tobacco out of youth-friendly films for the last three years.

Since 2004, the studio’s production manual has mandated that no principal character can be seen to smoke in a film set in contemporary times and to be rated G, PG or PG-13 unless the studio’s president of production signs off on the scene. Tobacco ads and promotions are not supposed to be visible in Fox movies. Even antismoking messages on screen are not to have been provided by tobacco companies."

Thanks to the concerns of GE, Viacom, Time Warner, and Disney, parents of America can rest assured that their kids will not be exposed to the filth of smoking in entertainment. We can now feel safe tuning into American Idol, where the Coca-Cola logos on the judge's cups are all facing the camera, where we discover that we have it our way from McDonald's, that we can always save with low prices at Wal-Mart, that we can express ourselves with Botox, and that we can accomplish anything if we set our minds to from Nike.

Remember, though: Smoking is bad!

Lust, But No Caution

There has been much conjecture following news that Lust, Caution was slapped with an NC-17 rating by the MPAA. As many pundits and critics have explained, the NC-17 is the kiss of death in Hollywood. Although Lust, Caution will not be distributed by a major studio on thousands of screens across the country, the expected move on the part of the studio (Focus Features) and director would be to appeal the rating and make the appropriate edits for an R rating, as that would ensure higher distribution and box office, especially for an awards season "prestige" film. But the appeal never came. Lee instead accepted the NC-17, and Focus Features is moving ahead as planned with the release of the film next month.

As a recent Los Angeles Times article observes, many claim that the MPAA's system for movie ratings is more than questionable, and that the dreaded NC-17 is typically assigned for strong sexual content rather than strong violence. Pornographically violent movies like The Passion of the Christ (2004) are never questioned, but any movie showing pubic hair or female pleasure is an immediate danger of receiving an NC-17 rating. Although I haven't seen Lust, Caution as of yet, early reports indicate that the sexuality, while erotic, is by no means pornographic. Like many, I'm not surprised that the movie was hit with the rating, since the MPAA has always imposed infantile values on the American public, in doing so reducing expression and representations of sexuality to sitcom-style innuendo that reflects our insecurity and fear about sexuality than our embrace of it. Therefore, that this film was hit with the kiss of death rating is not at all a surprise.

The real surprise here (and a welcome one at that) is that Lee has accepted the rating and that the film continues to pick up steam as it moves toward release. Though it was never going to be a wide release, news of the NC-17 could have severely damaged the film's chances of turning a respectable gross and gaining enough media exposure to be a contender come time for awards season. Focus Features and Ang Lee have instead turned this into a positive for the film, which may be the first sign of progress toward upending a criminal ratings system. As critics, movie goers, filmmakers, etc., we have to accept that the ratings system is here to stay. The MPAA and its "clients" have structured a system that makes it nearly impossible for filmmakers to take the cinematic medium seriously as an art form. The MPAA is a tentpole institution for the commodification of images, and it functions as such by informing the American public how it should feel about sexuality, religion, drugs, etc. While film goers can voice their dissatisfaction in their consumer choices, one of the few ways that filmmakers can work for change is to work within the confines of the very systems of power to work against them. Of course, this isn't easy, but Ang Lee has done just that.

By not caving in to the MPAA's intimidation and accepting their rating, Lee and co. are trusting in the intelligence and will of their audience. I may be overly optimistic, but if more filmmakers stood up for the art of cinema and braved the distribution and box office risk of the NC-17, then the rating's image as the kiss of death would evaporate. Of course this isn't as easy as it sounds, but I remain confident that the weakness of the system is the expectation that filmmakers and studios will always comply. The moment one does not, it may influence others to test the NC-17 waters, and (at best) maybe create a snowball effect that would relieve the rating of its death wish status. It won't change the pomposity of the rating, and it won't alter our collective approach towards sexuality in art, cinema, and culture like the flip of a switch, but it may be a starting point; the foundation of change.

I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that the filmmaker behind this potentially revolutionary step is Ang Lee, the filmmaker who two years ago made a quiet drama about the love of two men that captured the nation. Hollywood and Indiewood have dealt with homosexuality in cinema before, but never have I seen a movie work both as broadly appealing storytelling and as an intimately personal narrative grappling with some of the most relevant themes in American culture today. I was not among the camp touting Brokeback Mountain (2005) as more of a love story that happened to involve gay men, as if that's some kind of compliment. Brokeback Mountain is a gay love story, plain and simple. Lee wants you to know that, as he should. Through sublime images and brilliant performances, Lee digs deep into the minds of two men who learn to hate themselves because they love each other, in so doing digging even deeper into the collective unconscious of viewers. It is a profound film, one in which Lee manages to find just the right balance in approaching matters of repression, sexuality, and cultural Otherness through a straightforward narrative account of a gay relationship beautifully committed to images. It didn't preach messages or politicize, and its impact on America was vast. But the collective response and constant jokemaking resulting from the film's popularity essentially demonstrated why it was so necessary.

Although Lust, Caution does not deal with any hot-button issues and will not likely have the impact on American pop-culture that Lee's last film did, it nonetheless marks an important step in American cinema consistent in spirit with everything that Brokeback Mountain represented. Along with David Cronenberg, Ang Lee is emerging as one of the most important voices in contemporary cinema. Yes, I am aware that both of these filmmakers have made great films for many years. But each of them right now are uniquely addressing utterly essential issues in how we behave, communicate, and situate ourselves within a culture in their recent films. Lee is now doing so both inside his films and out.

Although I haven't seen the film yet, its title, Lust, Caution strikes me as simple, urgent. Two words that, in light of Lee's refusal to bow to the MPAA, rather concisely sums up a major cultural problem. Its impending release may well represent a monumental step in cinematic activism.

Let the Cleansing Begin

This is a sad day for Nick Naylor. Just months two months after the MPAA announced that depictions of smoking in cinema will figure greatly into the ratings system (essentially saying that smoking equals a higher rating), Disney today announced that it will purge all representations of smoking in their films. From Reuters:

"LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Walt Disney Co. on Wednesday became the first major Hollywood studio to ban depictions of smoking, saying there would be no smoking in its family-oriented, Disney-branded films and it would "discourage" it in films distributed by its Touchstone and Miramax labels.

Disney Chief Executive Robert Iger also said in a letter to U.S. Rep. Edward Markey, whose committee last month held hearings on the effects of movie images on children, that the studio would place anti-smoking public service announcements on DVDs of any future films that feature cigarette smoking.

He said the company would encourage theater owners to show screen anti-smoking public service announcements, or PSAs, before such films.

Iger cautioned, however, that "cigarette smoking is a unique problem and this PSA effort is not a precedent for any other issue."

Markey described Disney's commitment as "groundbreaking" and urged other studios to follow suit.

Dr. Cheryl Healton, president and CEO of the American Legacy Foundation, commended Disney's move but said the studio left "some ambiguity about what would happen in relation to Touchstone and Miramax."

Research cited by American Legacy, a nonprofit created out of landmark litigation between the tobacco industry and states attorneys general, shows that 90 percent of all films depict smoking and children with the highest exposure to smoking in movies were nearly three times more likely to start smoking.

Tobacco is featured in three-quarters of G, PG and PG-13 rated movies and 90 percent of R-rated movies, the studies showed.

The independent Weinstein Co. already is using PSAs produced by American Legacy ahead of its films that depict smoking, Healton said."

I'm sure child advocacy groups and those in support of "cleansing" entertainment will rejoice when they hear of this news. Yet the implications for these actions are massive as well as unsettling. What troubles me most about this report is that Disney will now "discourage" its subsidiary brands -- Miramax and Touchstone -- from employing images of smoking in their films. But there is something even more troubling about all of this.

Gradually, the movies are becoming the equivalent of the advertisements they are purported to be by the MPAA and other lawmakers. Rather than invoking a dialogue concerning matters of representation and consumption in the digital age, these "clamping down" effects actually limit our perceptions and interpretations of electronic media, imposing particular ideologies onto the collective so as to build a world of commodity and hypercommercialism. Disney's decision in reality has little to do with the harmful health effects of smoking or promoting more positive lifestyles in American youth. If it did, than the diet-promoting Shrek probably would not have had the endorsement deals with McDonald's or Coca-Cola. No; this is about something much larger and discomforting. Smoking is now just the trendy target for the massive corporate interests whose influence set the larger ideological agenda.

Once again, we seem to be hung up on the message, while the real changes are happening on the level of the medium, which is continually shifting so as to serve these interests. Under the guise of public health interests, institutions of power are really promoting a larger movement of commodifying everything to the point that we are gradually becoming numb to it. It seems that we are being lured into gentle complacency as we learn to be better consumers.

Of course, the "cultural cleansing" had to begin with Disney.

"We Can't Be Too Careful When It Comes to our Children..."

In light of the recent smoking regulations imposed upon movies by the MPAA, I must point out a particularly memorable blog entry on the matter. Since the MPAA has added smoking to its ever-expanding list of "strong" and "intense" things earning films an R rating, MaryAnn Johanson over at the Flik Filosopher has posted a short list of other things that the MPAA should be watching out for. The more I think about her point about car chases, the more I realize that last year's Cars should have been rated R. It's only appropriate. A short excerpt:

"Are we seriously considering the impact the appearance of Jessica Biel and Scarlett Johansson on film is having on our ugly daughters? Must we force our precious young boys to constantly compare themselves to Ashton Kutcher and Orlando Bloom? And self-esteem is not just about physical appearance. Should we be surprised when our children size up their athletic ability next to, say, Will Smith as Muhammad Ali or The Rock as himself and find themselves lacking? Should we be surprised when our children look at their utter lack of brains and talent and feel belittled next to the prodigious gifts of a Meryl Streep or a Phillip Seymour Hoffman? I propose that from now on, films featuring anyone gorgeous, brainy, or artistic or athletically endowed receive an automatic NC-17.

We can’t be too careful when it comes to our children, after all."

Cleaning Up The Movies: Commodification Cloaked in Morals

Scarlett Johannson smoking a cigarette in "Lost in Translation". It's ok though: the film is rated R.


It's official: smoking has now joined the ranks of illicit sex, homosexuality, teen alcohol/drug use, extreme violence, and foul language as cinematically taboo, unless your film is rated R.

Some consider the MPAA's recent efforts to discourage smoking in the movies long overdue. When the news broke last week, there was a strange aura of positivity to the many reports published online and in print. Based on these reports and reactions to them, it appears as though this ratings system change is a good thing. It is only the culmination of something our movie culture has been moving towards for the better part of 20 years. The actual news itself is secondary to the point that this newer, more strict view of smoking has actually been in practice for quite some time in the MPAA's biased assessment of ethical standards in cinema. But the news reports seem to support the notion that it's long overdue and desperately needed. No doubt this news is constructed to be positive and that we - the recepients of news media - are conditioned to believe it. Those who don't support it are painted as promoters of poor health. Though this may seem appropriate on the surface, its implications are disturbing.

The big question is this: do movies promote/support/encourage smoking via their representations of it? In the eyes of many, yes they do. According to these folks, the entertainment industry "glorifies" decadent acts, among them mentioned above. From this perspective, a child's exposure to these acts in entertainment may lead them to consider partaking (Could you imagine all the kids who would be smoking if Peter Parker was a chain smoker?). This "life imitates art" stance, however, is numbingly simplified and too easy an explanation (if it can be called that) for the relationship of entertainment and a culture, or, more specifically, an image and a spectator. The common response to "life imitates art" ideology is, unfortunately, equally wrong-headed and simplistic. This is of course the "it's just entertainment" defense, held by those who claim to have no connection to that which they see. I suppose one naive view deserves another in response, one that only regurgitates the problem of simplification rather than enabling it to expand. The simple nature of these perspectives often demand that things exist in dualities.

There is no question that viewers are greatly affected by entertainment, individually and culturally. Not only does exposure to entertainment (television and movies) physically account for substantial portions of the average individual's day, but the narratives and images themselves reflect and project concerns, preoccupations, fantasies, fears, and desires both unconscious and conscious to an individual/culture. The question still remains, however, of just how much influence these narratives and images have. But there is no easy answer to that. One's relation to the social world and participation in it is dependent on so many factors, both subtle and overt. To simplify the innumerable contributing aspects to one's sociocultural existence greatly undermines potential for abstraction and nuance in relationships and institutions of the social, in particular artistic representation. Walter J. Ong (whose book Orality and Literacy is indispensable) claims that technologies and media outlets not only emerge from acknowledged existence of one another, but that they gradually restructure thought-processes so as to accord to the structures of those media. Framing this discussion through the Ong lens then suggests that simplified approached to media with a strict emphasis on content reshapes the medium to accord to its perceived content. In other words, the medium itself changes to enable the very content it's been perceived to promote. And the medium is commodification.

Ever so slightly, art forms and useful media are transforming into products. Obviously, the commerce aspect of cinema has and always will be exist; but in terms of classical US filmmaking, the commerce is progressively eradicating the art. The current sanctions of the MPAA best reflect and sustain the view that movies are nothing more than advertising enterprises meant for consumption. Rarely can an image, character, action, or idea serve the purpose of abstraction or aesthetic value. In this hyper-commercial culture, we are made to think that the only way of interpreting anything is from a standpoint of consumption, promotion, and advertising. Objection to product placement or ruthless advertising campaigns is secondary to the fact that their overwhelming prominence in all facets of society is restructuring how we view and act upon social institutions and members of them. Commodification has become a mode of cultural discourse. It's the air we breathe. Some claim that this only affects the young, but the recent news of the MPAA clamping down on smoking is evidence that this movement affects all areas of American culture. And as long that we remain focused on the ethics of smoking, violence, or any other controversial representation, we are missing the the real issue that commodification is the means by which we process and interpret lived experience in consumer culture.

Nowhere is this more evident than in mainstream entertainment, cinema, television, music, and beyond. In keeping with a discussion of cinema, the issue of smoking is an interesting manifestation of the problem of thinking in terms of consumption. Critics and film scholars aside, movies are largely perceived as endorsements. Given the amount of product placement in films, it's hard not to see them that way. An image can rarely exist outside the sphere of commodity insofar that even attempts to move away from this line of thinking is a self-conscious attempt at doing so and is still defined by it. In this model, product placement and advertising represent the medium, but the message is the image itself, the representation of an idea or lifestyle that becomes commodity. In a consumer-friendly PG/PG-13 movie atmosphere, a character cannot smoke unless: she or he is a villain or if the smoking is part of her or his character arc (representing something that must be overcome. Either way, that character must have a good reason for smoking that cigarette. This is a small example, but it succinctly exemplifies the cultural attitude toward mainstream movies and has contributed to shaping them as such. Replace smoking with sex, alcohol use, violence, etc. and the model is the same. These cultural ideas of consumption are so deep rooted in American cinema and economy and is perfectly reflected in the ever-shifting MPAA rating system, which infantilizes movies and conditions them to be neatly packaged products ready-made for consumer purchase. This affects how they are made and perceived and therefore shapes an understanding of cinema a consumer enterprise. While no one can deny the billions of dollars spent by studios to make films and the billions more their films make, this very machine keeps growing larger and larger our perceptions of the medium itself have gradually been conditioned to understand it as such.

The problem that is becoming ever-more pronounced in this heightened age of electronic commercialism is one of representation. In a medium/message model, the medium is the image and the message is the narrative. While I prize the collapsing of this duality, as it would enable greater ways of perceiving and building our social reality and technologies, it's hard to escape. Images do not intrinsically exist is symbolic representations, but they unfortunately become that in a narrative framework, and gradually we condition ourselves to not see the images and instead perceive them as representations of the narrative underneath. This results in an awkward tension between abstraction and cliche, one that underlies cinema as an art form. But if spectators move away from the comfortable familiarity of convention and a "film as commodity" perception towards cinema, the medium itself can expand and enable the depth of nuance of which it is capable. Outside the focus on plot, narrative, and representation, an image can exist differently, create abstraction, and yield a greater mode of thinking outside the same narrative and representative structures that enable their existence. While one must always acknowledge narrative, new narrative and image possibilities are only unlocked when narrative serves the images, rather than the other way around. Only then can we culturally de-commodify the moving image.

Sex and violence as filtered by the MPAA

"Remember what the MPAA says: horrific, deplorable violence is ok, just don't say any naughty words."
- South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (Trey Parker, 1999)

When I saw the headline in Variety reporting that the MPAA will be making alterations to the film rating system, I was momentarily high with excitement. It turned out that my naive sense of hope once again has gotten the better of me, because after reading about these proposed changes to the system, I quickly settled back to the same frustrated state when thinking about our film ratings system. The changes are minimal, and although they may impact certain areas of the appeal process in particular, these changes will likely not amount to much more than a political and bureaucratic move.

Not surprisingly, the state of movie ratings has become a very strong political issue. Many well known liberal commentators call for the system to be totally renovated, while conservatives tend to favor it and encourage that it clamp down even more than it already does, in the spirit of the FCC with radio and television. Where one falls on this issue inevitably depends on a great deal on individual values and what is considered appropriate when it comes to regulating arts and entertainment.

I am not much of a political person in a right/left sense, but I don't pretend to have an unbiased take on this issue. As a cinema lover, I do not approve of the system in the smallest way. I would eradicate it and start from scratch if I had the chance. However, I am not foolish enough to think that such a momentous course of action could ever be feasible.

Esentially, the MPAA ratings system is a sectioned off version of the Hays code, the one and only standard of film censorship in the United States from the 30's into the 60's, before the MPAA. All films released in the United States were subject to the same restrictions. There were certain things one could suggest, and certain things one couldn't. For example, a kiss could only be held on screen for a certain amount of seconds. It was a cut and dry system that ensured that all films had similar standards. Filmmakers were always trying to get around the rules and slip through the cracks in the system (see the romance scene between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman early in Alfred Hitchcock's 1946 film, Notorious). Hitchcock and others were always trying to push the envelope while also point out the utter hypocrisy of the system and its fundamental inability to encapsulate film content. Filmmakers like Hitchcock knew that the content of moving images often went beyond what was visible at a given moment. So much more can be suggested in cinema that attempting to quantify the appropriateness of sexual content, violence or anything else is practically irrelevant, and a facile understanding of what images are capable of.

Today, the ratings system essentially categorizes films with the G, PG, PG-13, R, and NC-17 ratings. And, being that films are hugely marketing pieces of merchandise, studios and filmmakers have learned what quantifies each system and make their films accordingly. In a perfect world, from my point of view, we wouldn't have anything like this. It greatly undermines the artistic endeavor that filmmaking can and should be and it promotes films being forced into a specific territory when it comes to content. Instead of one big code, there are now segregated options. The MPAA claims to be a voluntary system, but, economically, the reality is that films that do not submit for an MPAA ratings have no chance of being distributed.

The meaning of ratings has changed, and such change is often ushered by adding or deleting ratings. For example: the PG-13. The rating was first suggested by Steven Spielberg after angry viewers complained about the level of violence in the PG-rated Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984). Feeling that the level of violence didn't deserve an R rating, (at the time, R was much less acceptable and less mainstream than it is today) Spielberg suggested an "in between" rating. But all it has done was alter the content of other ratings. The G - meant to suggest family entertainment - is all but gone and has been replaced by the PG - a rating that allows some innuendo and minor curse words, but is a far cry from films like Jaws, which was rated PG in 1975. The PG-13 has replaced the old PG rating, and the R is now much more acceptable and regular than in the 70's and 80's. The NC-17, previously X, is the phantom rating because there are so few films that have been rated it. It's a commercialdeathwish to get an NC-17 since it's viewed as pornography. Therefore, the standards of the R, which are much more constraining than many think, have not adapted. Therefore, the level of violence, sex, and "thematic content" (a great MPAA phrase) are standardized and are allowed within very careful bounds. It doesn't matter if ratings are added or subtracted, because in the end, any change in system will adjust and level out accordingly, and films will continue to be made and seen according to what's "allowed" under each rating. What skewers the whole thing, however is the phantom NC-17 rating; since no film ever achieves it, and it is supposed to represent something, the more tame R of today is essentially the maximum level of "mature" content allowed. I'm no fan of having to make films that adhere to this system, but I suppose it must exist on some level.

Determining the level of content allowed in each rating category is where all of the controvery has risen. Observing trends in filmmaking and culture reveal that the MPAA is notoriously soft on violence, yet strangely limiting when it comes to sexuality, which to some degree reflects the values of our culture.

Many filmmakers have spoken out against the hypocrisy of the MPAA, notably Kirby Dick, who made a expose-like documentary, This Film is Not Yet Rated, which I have yet to see. Since it was deemed an NC-17 rating, no studio or theater chain wanted to distribute it, which in a way is another way for Dick to make a statement. The film will be released next week, and I have every intention of seeing it. Some speculate that the changes to the system were partly due to the film, which apparently exploits the biased natures of the ratings board.

In the minds of the ratings board members, depictions of violence is quite alright, but when it comes to sex and curse words, filmmakers better be careful. Now, let's be clear about something. Cinema allows such acts as sex and violence to be depicted in a variety of ways, and they have both featured prominently in cinema throughout its history. Over time, viewers form a familiarity with particular conventions of how they are depicted. Many techniques exist that suggest certain emotions or events and are used quite frequently. Shot-by-shot analyses of films would reveal many of these devices and stylistic techniques, but right now I would just like to vent my beliefs about how these particular devices have defined the overall cinematic understanding of such things.

Sex and violence are fascinating ideas to study in a cinematic context. Many question why films feature so much sex and violence, and the answer to such a question is complicated. Firstly, there is something about the senses of sight and sound that, when you put moving images on a screen, we respond in a very immediate way. The cinema can make you feel in ways different than other narrative and/or art forms. Sexuality and violence can be very visceral and emotive, which is what cinema can do evoke best. Where some viewers claim that depictions of these acts corrupts minds (which, in many cases really depends on the depiction and context), I contest that through the cinema, viewers can particpate in an emotional and immediate experience capable of provoking different manners of feeling and thinking. However, as much they are built-in or socialized into our individual selves and cultures, sex and violence are large elements of who and what we are. Therefore, I think these ideas manifested through the narrative art form of moving images may allow us to feel and think about them in ways more productive than merely claiming they corrupt people. We can learn much about ourselves and our culture and society (especially considering the increasingly visual culture of which we are now a part) based on how violence and sex are made visible through narrative art. Images are so powerful, and based on the feelings they provoke, we can question and expand upon our own views about such matters by exposing ourselves to different ways of seeing, feeling, and thinking. A discussion framed from this standpoint can therefore be very useful and worthy of study.

Several writers and critics rarely waste an opportunity to blast the MPAA for its inconsistent, extremely biased approach to rating films. Roger Ebert has written extensively about the MPAA's influence of filmmakers and viewers, and how they make sexuality visible in the cinema. This from his review of Alfonso Cuaron's Y Tu Mama Tambien:

"The movie is realistic about sex, which is to say, franker and healthier than the smutty evasions forced on American movies by the R rating. We feel a shock of recognition: This is what real people do and how they do it, sexually, and theMPAA has perverted a generation of American movies into puerile masturbatory snickering...

It is clear Cuaron is a gifted director, and here he does his best work to date. Why did he return to Mexico to make it? Because he has something to say about Mexico, obviously, and also because Jack Valenti and the MPAA have made it impossible for a movie like this to be produced in America. It is a perfect illustration of the need for a workable adult rating: too mature, thoughtful and frank for the R, but not in any sense pornographic. Why do serious film people not rise up in rage and tear down the rating system thatinfantilizes their work?"

I couldn't agree more with Roger's sentiments. As a culture, we are much more at ease with images of violence than we are with sexuality, which is something that I don't understand. We seem to fetishize violence in different forms; sometimes in the form of pleasurable entertainments, sometimes in the form of serious narrative trying to depict violence honestly and responsibly, while some films represent more of a cross between these two ideologies of depicting violence. The point is that there are so many ways in which violence is depicted, viewed, felt, and understood in the cinema, but when it comes to sexuality, there is much less available, at least in terms of the mainstream. Many films made outside America are much more comfortable with it, as well as lesser known productions within American. But for the most part, in this country, people appear to be afraid of sex. Some might disagree and claim that there is so much suggestion and innuedo featured in entertainment, to which I say, of course! Because we have become so timid in regards to depicting and viewing human sexuality in any kind of mature way, it has manifested itself in other ways, usually in the form of comedy, innuendo, and representations suggesting just enough sex that is acceptable. Such standards are defined by the FCC and MPAA . which wield great power in what we see and consume. Films that are daring, honest, and up-front with approach sexuality maturely are slapped with an NC-17 rating and are never seen, let alone produced and distributed by a major studio. As for television and radio, advertisers wouldn't touch such material with a 50-foot pole. Instead, we are given the same assembly-line, mass-produced schlock that is "acceptable." Perhaps if we are more honest and unafraid of sexuality, it won't be such a hush-hush topic and we can actually see it as something more than forbidden and immoral, which is how it's currently viewed and depicted.

The point I make with all of this is that the MPAA (as well as the FCC) sustains and upholds supposedly tasteful standards for sex as part of our culture that are sickening and hypocritical. Images are everywhere. All of us are affected by mainstream entertainment, consumerism, and advertising in one form or another. In fact, I would argue (and this is the subject of a later post) that images have become more influential in shaping our views and interaction with our society and its institutions than words. We are all influenced by these infantile visions of sex perpetrated on us, and until the MPAA and FCC and the American people (it's a cyclical effect and it starts with those in power) are willing to embrace a more open and healthy perspective of sexuality, we will be uncomfortable with it not just as participants in media and culture, but as individuals. The cinema is an essential and relevant visual medium that can reflect and inform, and it is the responsibility of filmmakers to construct and present images that provoke thought and feeling, especially in regard to the increasingly visual culture of which we all are members.

What we have now isn't working, and making little tweaks to the current approach will not address the issue. I suppose the current changes can be viewed in a positive light, because, hey, at least it's something. But I urge that we must go further. I know it's not easy, but as cinema lovers and as social beings, we must refuse to be manipulated any further and press for change.

But perhaps I'm just being naive and overly hopeful again...