Monday, November 5, 2007

Can Money Really Buy Happiness?


Before I introduce the actual clip I have chosen to analyze for this assignment, let me first give some background information on Gilmore Girls that may lend a hand in your understanding of said analysis. It first debuted on the WB Network in 2000, at a time when reality TV was at its prime, thus making GG “an out-of-sync anomaly” and its smart, witty, fast-paced dialogue perhaps “too smart and witty for its own good.” However, it did seem to restart a revolution—that in favor of script-driven dramas and writers more so as “creators and molders of TV entertainment.” (Soon after its premiere, we saw a reemergence in popularity of shows like ABC’s Desperate Housewives and CBS’ Without a Trace.)

David Janollari, current entertainment president of the WB Network, has identified young women as the show’s target audience. And surely this demographic has been reached, as the show remained the network’s top pick among women 18-34 and 18-49 for several seasons. I can see the plot, too, being particularly attractive to young and/or single mothers and their teenage daughters because, as Janollari mentioned, Lorelai and daughter Rory’s close relationship is a desirable one.

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/search/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1000791110

A clip from Episode 15, Season 4 of GG entitled “Scene in a Mall,” which premiered February 24, 2004, is one that delves a little deeper into the issue of class that the show has dealt with (though often not so overtly) from the start. It begins with Lorelai, Rory, and mother/grandmother to the two, Emily Gilmore, in a mall department store. Emily is shown on what is essentially a shopping rampage. She barks orders at the salespeople, demanding that they put what must amount to thousands of dollars worth of useless merchandise (including a wedding dress for Lorelai and a display globe for Rory, neither of which they need) on her tab, meanwhile shouting to her trailing daughter and granddaughter to “stop dawdling and start picking.” Her rampage culminates in a loud rant to Lorelai about her husband Richard’s “new life,” which, according to Emily, includes “club-hopping” and “secret lunches” with female friends and, even more distressing, a longer mustache.

In an attempt to calm her down, Lorelai and Rory pull her out of the store and around the corner to the food court, which Emily, though a frequent mall-goer, has never before seen. They sit her down and buy an assortment of food for her to try. Rory goes back for napkins and Emily expresses how embarrassed she is for her behavior in the department store. Lorelai acts almost as a therapist to her mom, encouraging her to talk to Richard so that they may work through their problems instead of constantly bickering about petty things like his mustache. The clip ends with Emily’s expression of admiration of her daughter’s life.

Now, just as Vegard Iglebaek analyzed a particular clip of the hit TV series Friends as proving the widening degree of acceptable personal disclosure for heterosexual males instead of Joey and Chandler’s homophobia or homosexuality, I will attempt to use this GG clip to show the preferred lifestyle of the working class over the rich. By no means is this message hidden from the audience; the two classes are clearly distinguished and it is obvious who is happier (and more sane). Emily, dressed in fur and covered in gold jewelry, storms through the department store like a mad woman, spending her husband’s money just to spite him. The salespeople in the department store have obviously witnessed her in this state before and are eager to take advantage; they say, “These scarves all match, and of course you'll need gloves,” to which Emily responds without pause, “We’ll take them all.”

When more rational Lorelai suggests she “slow down on the shopping,” Emily bitterly retorts, “Why do I need to slow down? This is what I do, according to Richard.” Her excessive spending is her way of dealing with the neglect and general unhappiness she feels at home as a result of her husband's, yes, money-making, but also very time-consuming job. Lorelai is able to recognize this and resist the urge to give into her mother’s offer to buy her whatever she wanted merely because it was “on [her] father,” thus demonstrating her maturity and satisfaction with her current life and possessions. When Rory expresses interest in a hat, Lorelai says to her, “Don’t get sucked in! This is craziness! It’s a symbol.” The two are able to remain in good spirits despite Emily’s embarrassing behavior, “Hey, see those marbles rolling on the floor?” Lorelai asks Rory. “They're Mom's. They spilled out of her head.” When Lorelai’s comment that she is being “crazy” triggers an outburst by Emily, however, their amusement turns to concern.

In the food court, when Lorelai attributes her ability to properly and calmly deal with even the more stressful situations at work to following her mother’s example, Emily replies, “Oh, please. I order maids and salespeople around. That's different. I've never done anything.” At this point, the true reason for her unhappiness surfaces—she, on top of feeling neglected by her husband, also feels unaccomplished, and envies her daughter’s independence and success as a single, working mother. We come to the conclusion that a big house and essentially limitless credit card such as hers are not necessarily synonymous with happiness, as was widely believed during the 1980s (e.g., the Decade of Greed). Shopping is no longer seen as a “transforming experience” as it was for Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman; on the contrary, it is shown in this clip as contributing to the misery and literal and metaphorical loss of control of the wealthy (or in this case, Emily). Lorelai (who represents the working class in this episode, as suggested by her less gaudy attire, numerous phone calls from co-workers, and careful attention to her budget), though inadvertently, gains power. As she sits in the food court, essentially counseling her mother, who, not moments before, was storming through a public place demanding others to obey her every command, we ponder which lifestyle we would prefer—that of Lorelai or that of Emily. We do not have to ponder too long before the show answers our question practically directly: “What’d I miss?” Rory asks as she returns to the table. “I was just admiring your mother’s life,” Emily answers. “Oh, I do that daily.”