Monthly Archives: October 2010

READING: Have I ever been a cult fan?

In reading Felschow’s article, I asked myself whether I am or have ever been a cult fan. Although an avid watcher of a variety of shows over the years, the closest example I could think of was my deep affiliation with The Simpsons. Since I approached double-digits I have consumed The Simpsons’ episodes and made a point to collect The Simpsons’ merchandise, ranging from buying books about the show or talking action figures (this practice waned as I got older) and playing a variety of the show’s videogames. But could I categorize myself as a cult fan due to my dutiful consumptive practices? I don’t think so. I certainly have felt the otherness Felschow describes. Somewhere approaching my teens, I hid my vast Simpson’s knowledge and my figurines in my basement, so I would not come off as being weird to my friends. Nevertheless, outside the occasional daydream of wanting to write for the long-living show, I have never imagined myself capable of exerting an influence over the show’s material. Perhaps, that is due to the fact the show is not serial-based and is more episodic. But, more importantly, I think it is because my viewing mindset does not permit me be part of Jenkin’s “resistant and creative audience” (4.2). I have never created fan-fiction or fan-art or participated in online forums because my viewing practices are very much personal. They are more so about my direct interaction with the show’s set, scripted world and less so about altering the world to my liking.

READING: Ross Introduction and Chapter 1

In Ross’ introduction he brings up to idea of audience invitation. That is to say there are different modes of inviting audience members to participate with a story, be it for television or within traditional oral history, and this means of invitation affects audience self-conception and activity. I would like to use this space to ponder how my final project could invite its reader to participate.

As a screenplay, my project would create a readerly, critical relationship. The relationship would be writer to reader, and the only resulting interaction would be editorial, having the reader provide feedback in a traditional means. Another possibility would be to write a screenplay and to have in its diegesis a blog that the protagonist uses. I could then set up a blog paralleling this diegetic one and invite my reader to comment upon the story there. The relationship, however, would be much maintained. It would be a critical relationship more than a dynamic one. A third possibility would be to have the story be told via a combination of mediums. The story could start out as screenplay, morph into graphic novel, all this still being on paper, and then transition into an online medium, using blogs and videos and outside material to amplify the affect of traveling with the protagonist as she experiences a vast realm of fandom she never knew existed, being that she is from the late 19th century. This would allow the reader to become a visual reader, a blogger and a viewer all in one and would deepen the types of interaction allowed.

Reading: Fuller Chapter 9 and conclusion


This started out as a creative post mapping my chronological account of my history of interest in the movies. The creative part was taking too long, so this is the half-finished product, which shows the movie posters to the films most pertinent to my childhood, then slowly moving onto the posters of my adolescence and then college years.

READING: Breaking the Sound Barrier

I think our discussion about a dialogue between star, history and audience is extremely pertinent to Mark Juddery’s article. In the beginning of the article he mentions that Singin’ in the Rain became much more popular with time. Initially, it had a strong reception, but it only became considered one of the greatest films of all time more recently. I think this development demonstrates how important a film’s reputation is, allowing one generation to pass on their opinions to following generations, even altering a film’s recorded history with their own recollections. This latter aspect is also touched upon in Juddery’s article. He refers to the extensive research Kelly and his staff for Singin’ in The Rain underwent. They interviewed stars of the 1920s and used popular stories about the transition from silent to sound cinema to craft their plot. One direction the article does not go into–mainly because it is not the author’s particular interest to do so– is how this dialogue between stars, history and audience has a resounding effect, not only changing the perception of one film but instead changing society’s understanding of it entire oeuvre of films. The release of Singin’ in the Rain made musicals a legitimate genre again, extending past mere nostalgia for a genre lost. Musicals may not be as popular as other genres now a days, but its presence lives on, making appearances on film and in television (maybe one day there will be musicals in videogames as well).  Singin’ in the Rain and its evolutional history is hugely responsible for this legacy.

READING: Fuller Chapter 8

I was struck by how similar marketing strategies are today to yesteryear. Back in the teens and 1920s, they were already developing stars as sponsors for a variety of commercial products, be they inane or practical, for “cars to candy bars” (151).  Perhaps not nearly as surprising is the shared emphasis on beauty and attractive stars. Other similarities I noted was the search for the “perfect consumer” and the manipulation of the market. Addressing the former, younger audience members were heavily targeted by film magazines. In one section of the chapter, Fuller quotes a Kraft spokesman saying “in young woman ‘we find the least sales resistance.'” As said, it’s definitely not surprising but perhaps a little unsettling how fluid our marketing techniques have been. They have not changed much over the past century. They have always attempted to find and pinpoint where cash can be cultivated and reaped most efficiently. As to the latter, I was momentarily shocked to read how Fuller suspected the magazine of fabricating its editorial letters. Fuller hypothesizes that the magazines published letters that reflected a greater range of readership than they likely were to have. They wanted to portray even distribution throughout the country, in both rural and urban regions and even internationally abroad. Although shrewd, this strategy is dishonest and verging on sickening. I’ve never imagined that magazines now a days would do such a thing, but I suppose I wouldn’t put it past them either.

READING: Fuller Chapter 7

For my final project, I’m looking to do a creative piece, a 30-minute screenplay about a daughter and mother who have conflicting opinions about the newfound medium: film. The piece would take place in 1895, the same year the Lumiere’s Arrival of a Train at the Station came out. To aid my research, I would like to use my blog space as a brainstorming tool, fleshing out possible characters and their traits based on what I discover in the readings (I imagine I will do this for every other reading or so):

In Fuller’s chapter 7,  Fuller says early on, “Fan magazine readers were not necessarily swooning women and giggly young girls,” (133). I note this because if my protagonist is a young girl I’ll want to avoid this stereotype. Her motivation for wanting to see Lumiere’s film should not make her out as being mawkish. Perhaps something more intellectual. She has an inquisitive nature. Perhaps, defying stereotypes, she is tomboyish, and already has an interest in the inner mechanisms of radios. She knows of and likes magic lanterns and other early cinematic devices. Later in the chapter, Fuller mentions “…the rude woman who refused to remove her hat in the theater or who gossiped during the show” (143). If ever converted to film viewing, the protagonist’s mother would be this type of fan. She is conservative in nature, prissy, pretentious and prim. She is religious and traditional, set in her ways. Fuller also mentions Mary Curtin, the fan of all fans, very devoted. I think my protagonist will share some characteristics with Mary: her determination and willingness to defy traditional roles– but not all her traits. I don’t envision her ever having “450 or 500 movie star portraits” (146) in her room. If she ever falls star-struck, she’ll be like Celia from Purple Rose of Cairo, and will fall for one man and not for the whole acting world.