1. Introduction In his 2004 Democratic National Convention speech, President Obama defines the essential qualities that together have created modern America: Hope in the face of difficulty, hope in the face of uncertainty, the audacity of hope: In the end, that is God's greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation, a belief in things not seen, a belief that there are better days ahead. I believe that we can give our middle class relief and provide working families with a road to opportunity (Obama). Hope and opportunity, or rather, hope of opportunity, were and are the fundamental principles that have formed and are still forming America today. President Obama iterates a common idea among Americans—that perseverance and hard work will breed eventual success, opportunity, and social mobility. Although these ideas represent a more modern, colloquial identification with the current cultural, political, and social state in America—a nation of progress and equality, they also reflect the ideas of the frontier on American development, as presented in Frederick Jackson Turner’s piece, “The Significance of the Frontier in American History.” Turner argues that the ideas of “hope” and “opportunity” originate in American expansionism on the frontier. He claims that the frontier was the place of social development, representing a “perennial rebirth” that “furnish[ed] the forces dominating American character” (Turner 2). 2. Claim Turner’s thesis continues to operate as a mystified portrayal of the Western frontier, a place he claims is full of prosperity, opportunity, and equality—the cornerstone of American development. Even President Obama, in defining hope as “a belief in things not seen,” offers a case for the frontier’s mystified existence in modern culture—that America is still pursuing things yet to be discovered. While Turner provides a positive perspective on the American frontier, other works have conflicting readings. Specifically, competing works challenge Turner’s idea that the frontier was a place of “perennial rebirth.” They in fact conclude that American expansionism on the frontier was not the place of positive enlightenment, but rather a brutal destruction and stark contradiction to the very ideals that people have come to define as the United States. This paper, through a comparative analysis of David Milch’s television series Deadwood and Kevin Costner’s 1990 film Dances with Wolves, will articulate a case for the aforementioned claim in order to demystify an essential component of Turner’s thesis regarding the portrayal of the frontier and its impact on American development. It will first discuss the depiction of the frontier in Deadwood and then move onto Costner’s work, Dances with Wolves. Film analysis will be analyzed with two focuses in mind: 1) film narrative—that is, the dialogue of the film, and 2) film text—that is, the film’s cinematic language. This paper will then proceed to compare the motivations behind each work and provide a conclusion on the implications of such a reading. 3. Deadwood In David Milch’s imagined frontier, the language of the frontiersmen and women provide a distinct contradiction with Turner’s perceived frontier. Within the first twenty minutes of the Deadwood series’ opener, crude language is thrown around loosely. The frontier is a rough and raw place, a place not for a family, but rather, a place for gangsters, dirty businessmen, and people who want to escape the law. The streets are filled with prostitutes, bars, drunken men, crooks, and gangsters. On this frontier, nothing is clean—nothing is pure. The language is emblematic of this kind of culture, a living symbol of the nature of the frontier Milch explores in his television series. I'll tell you what. I may a fucked my life up flatter than hammered shit, but I stand here before you today beholden to no human cocksucker. And workin' a payin' fuckin' gold claim. And not the U.S. government sayin' I'm tresspassin' or the savage fuckin' red man himself or any of these limber dick cocksuckers passin' themselves off as prospectors had better try and stop me (Milch). This is Deadwood, a place without law, government, and morals. In this passage, Ellsworth reveals four major qualities of this frontier: 1) the people’s motivations to settle on the frontier are purely economic, 2) government did not and should not exist, 3) the Native American population is a present threat, and 4) settlers are competitors for the same land and thus denoted as “cocksuckers.” These four ideas seem far from the ideas of Turner’s “rebirth” or social development. In fact, the frontier is a place that denies labor, equal opportunity, and positive competitiveness. Perhaps even scarier is the troubling message Milch provides viewers—that the “rebirth” on the frontier was not progress at all, but rather, a step backwards from the original direction of American development. While Turner does claim that this “perennial rebirth” involves a period of transition into more primitive means of existence which he defines as adopting Indian ways, the Deadwood television series highlights the inconsistencies in Turner’s conclusion. In one scene, a local bar owner discusses business with a doctor in town. The room is filled with pregnant prostitutes who are gathering for their weekly checkup. This scene does not support the notion expressed by Turner. Instead, it shows that the frontier was a destruction of moral values, an idea far from the idealized progression Turner claims. 4. Dances with Wolves While Deadwood provides a gritty depiction of the frontier after settlement, Costner’s Dances with Wolves shows the deterioration of a land once unsullied by white settlers. The land is a peaceful place, a place where the protagonist journeys in order to find his own identity. The cinematography captures the landscapes’ beauty, emphasizing the ability of Native Americans to live harmoniously with nature, a concept seemingly unknown by their white neighbors. The natives are peaceful and inquisitive. They are not belligerent savages Turner would have readers believe. In fact, Costner reveals the true savage through wonderfully written non-diagetic reflections by the protagonist: Who would do such a thing? The field was proof enough that it was a people without value and without soul, with no regard for Sioux rights. The wagon tracks leading away led little doubt and my heart sank as I knew it could only be white hunters (Dances with Wolves). The question that the protagonist proposes to himself is also one that Costner proposes to viewers. This specific passage follows an immensely emotional shot of skinned buffalo strewn across the prairie, their red skin blaringly contrasted with the green grass behind them. Here, Costner notes two interesting things; hunters are a people without value and soul: two essential qualities for hope, opportunity, and progress—for American social development. Interestingly, however, the protagonist has his “rebirth.” He says: “I never knew who John Dunbar was. Perhaps the name itself had no meaning. But as I heard my Sioux name being called over and over, I knew for the first time who I really was” (Dances with Wolves). Here, Costner offers a different conclusion—that the frontier represents a “rebirth” that should occur internally, and that this “rebirth” did not take place on the frontier, but rather with an appreciation and acceptance of the Native American culture. This is what Costner believes is an expression of Americanism, a movement towards equality, progress, and opportunity for all—even Native Americans. This internal transformation is the roots of America. 5. Conclusion Although these two works differ in their expression of the frontier, they demystify the proposed frontier that Turner offers. The frontier in both examples was not a place of progress or American development. Rather, it was a place of destruction, loss, and defilement—qualities contradictory to the identified foundation of America. It was dirty, crude, and lawless. There was little hope of opportunity in either case and the glimpse of this hope was surprisingly found in the untouched lands of the West. The frontier, thus, should not serve as an icon of hope and progress, but rather a reminder of the atrocities committed by American settlers and the selfish, violent, and oppressive nature of white authority. It is a reminder to us all that the only frontier we should seek to cross is the one within ourselves. Works Cited Dances with Wolves. Dir. Kevin Costner. Prod. Kevin Costner. By Michael Blake. Perf. Kevin Costner, Mary McDonnell, and Graham Greene. Orion Pictures, 1990. Milch, David. "Deadwood." Deadwood. HBO. N.d. Television. Obama, Barack. "Keynote Address at the Democratic National Convention." Democratic National Convention. Boston. Address. Turner, Frederick Jackson. The Significance of the Frontier in American History. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1920. Print.
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tick tock tick tock the clock seems to slow down, to skip beats tick so does my heart tock the moments last forever tick as things begin to feel hazy tock I had done it tick I just wanted to end it tock the small round pills traveled so nicely down my throat tick all it took was a few too many tock and now time stops and I know I am close Release. but wait, time! come back! I am not ready but it is too late I am losing grip I am gone Awake. Lying in a hospital bed. tick tock tick tock. 1. Introduction and Claim People often refer to the United States as a “melting pot” of various cultures, a term coined by Jewish immigrant Israel Zangwill in 1908. While this idea is commonly referenced in describing America’s current racial state, in reality, it oversimplifies the complex nature of American culture and altogether ignores the historical construction of America; that is, it overlooks, even bypasses, the discrimination, racial violence, and bigotry that are an undeniable part of America’s history. By calling America a “melting pot,” people deny agency to various cultures that are independent from this projected idea of one assimilated America; cultures are unique and cannot be categorized under a single descriptive entity. Thus, others have depicted America as a “mosaic,” a term that grants more agency to individual cultures, asserting that the nation was formed by many “pieces” of cultures that could then flourish in American society as a whole. While the “mosaic-America” supports the existence of different cultures, it assumes that the American mosaic is already complete—that no pieces of the puzzle are missing. The lack of Asian American national identity through American history highlights the incredible flaw in this colloquial terminology. Wayne Wang’s film Chan is Missing directly addresses this mistaken notion, concluding that America is indeed missing pieces from its mosaic—pieces that were never even recognized as missing. This paper, through Wang’s 1982 film Chan is Missing, will articulate a case for the aforementioned claim in order to shed light on the realities Wang urges viewers to consider. It will first discuss two key concepts evident within the film, visibility and legibility, and the dramatization of their relationship. This will then serve as the basis for the film analysis, which is separated into two sections: 1) film presentation, and 2) film text. In these sections, this paper will show how the inability to “see” and “read” in Wang’s film points towards the lack of Asian cultural identity in America and the refusal of society to recognize this culture as American. 2. Visibility and Legibility Wang’s film explores the concept of visibility and legibility in order to construct his claim. These two terms, at their most basic level, have very different meanings. Visibility is often related to the physical sight of something; legibility is the comprehension of that something. Thus, visibility serves as a precondition for legibility; that is, in order for something to be legible, it has to first be visible. Wang dramatizes the relationship between these two concepts, using visibility as a metaphor for legibility. That is, in his film, things unseen may point to the inability to comprehend those things and that things unseen may also point to the basic inability to recognize those things. These ‘things,’ in the context of Wang’s film, relate to Asian identity and thus, the recognition and comprehension of Asian culture. 3. Film Presentation The film itself represents an argument for this idea of visibility and legibility. Although the film was shot and released in the 80s when color film was already seen as commonplace in the film industry, the director shot the film in black and white. Thus, this action can be seen as a stylistic choice rather than one of necessity. Because of the desaturated and antiquated color of the film, images are often obscured; people’s faces are shrouded in shadow and the setting blurs with the background. At 26:41, the two friends walk up the stairs in search of the missing protagonist, Chan Hong. The carpet is unclear and the details become muddled and indistinguishable. The faces of the two friends are blurred by the black and white color. They effectively become shapeless, unidentifiable objects as they proceed up the stairs. As a result, they are not visible to the audience and, in effect, not legible. Wang uses the character’s lack of clear visibility to symbolize the lack of clear legibility of Asians in America. In other words, Wang argues that Asian Americans struggle to achieve agency. Just as the two friends are blurred amidst an unclear background, Asian Americans live without a recognized identity and clear place or sense of belonging in society. They are illegible and invisible; society not only refuses to comprehend their culture but also fails to recognize them as a people of a separate, independent culture. 4. Film Text The film’s repeated focus on reflections off of Jo’s taxicab also provides a pointed critique on American society. In the opening minutes of the film, the audience only sees Jo partially through the windshield of his taxi—Chinatown reflects off of his face as he drives through the city. This scene lasts almost a whole minute before the narrative begins. The idea of visibility and legibility is evident in this first minute. The audience sees Chinatown and Jo, but it is unclear who or what the focus should be. Jo is again invisible to the audience and thus illegible. Immediately, director Wang juxtaposes Jo with the white man in his taxi. Jo drives to earn a living. This man travels for entertainment and luxury. Jo’s identity is subject to a cruel hierarchy rooted in the subjugation of Asian immigrants in U.S. history. Although Jo is free in this world, he lacks agency in that he still serves the white man. While this is the only interaction Jo has with a white person, it subtly represents the invisibility of the Asian American. Jo’s identity is unclear and incomprehensible. In the end, he is still subservient and caged under the hierarchical structure of white supremacy; he is unrecognized and misunderstood. It is no surprise, then, that Chan Hong remains missing, and that nobody really cares to find him. He is an Asian immigrant and clearly did not belong in Wang’s perceived America. In the end, the audience is shown a picture of Chan Hong and Jo. Jo comments that he can barely see Chan Hong. Chan is not only a mystery to white Americans, but also to Asian Americans. Director Wang provides a scary conclusion; Asian Americans cannot even understand and comprehend their own origins. They have lost visibility and recognition of their heritage and culture; they have failed in the preservation of personal cultural authenticity and instead assimilated into a non-identifiable culture controlled by white authority. 5. Conclusion Chan Hong is neither visible nor legible; he has no identity in America. Jo is partially visible and only partially legible; he struggles to find his identity within Chan Hong. These characters are mere representations of the unrecognized, missing piece in America’s incomplete mosaic. While the current racial state vastly differs from even the time this film was released, director Wang highlights an issue still present within society—many individuals are still left out of American culture and denied agency and identity. Most interestingly, however, is the fact that the white American is also not visible, and thus also illegible in this film. Is he denied agency as well? Perhaps Wang wants viewers to construct their own identity, separate from societal concerns and opinions, all while accepting, understanding, and recognizing the multi-various cultures that define America’s mosaic. Works Cited Chan Is Missing. Dir. Wayne Wang. By Isaac Cronin, Terrel Seltzer, Michael Chin, and Robert Kikuchi-Yngojo. Perf. Wood Moy, Marc Hayashi, Laureen Chew, Peter C. Wang, and Presco Tabios. New Yorker Films, 1982. DVD. |
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