|
by Marshall Allen
It’s all about sex, suds and buds on the new
Fox TV series Undeclared. Created by
Judd Apatow, who also created the series
Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared
features an ensemble cast of previously
unknown actors. Steven Karp is the Everyman
main character, a likeable gangly kid trying to
recreate himself from high school dweeb to
college ladies’ man. The episodes recount
the adventures of Steven and his buds –
British roomie and heartthrob Lloyd, Ron the
drinker, off the wall Marshall, and two girls in
the coed dorm: Lizzie and Rachel.
Unfortunately, the show’s producers went
without the staple of most sitcoms – the laugh
track. At least laugh tracks would indicate what
parts are supposed to be funny.
As entertainment Undeclared is
underwhelming. The humor falls flat and is
mind-numbing in its banality. Humor can be
used artistically to reveal deeper social truths
in a way that’s entertaining and surprising. Or
– like a whoopee cushion or plastic dog poop
– it can grossly appeal to the lowest common
denominator. The humor in Undeclared
does neither. It’s the equivalent of a bunch of
frat boys trading insults – it could be funny if
you live it, but try explaining it to someone else
and watch their eyes glaze before you can say
"you had to be there." I didn’t even crack a
smile until episode three, which featured Will
Farrell from Saturday Night Live as a
strung out junkie who sells term papers to
Steven and pals.
If Undeclared operates under a thesis,
it would be the statement found on the home
page of the show’s website: First year of
freedom. No more parents, no more rules, no
more curfews. 2001-2002 is going to be a
good year. Undeclared celebrates that
these freshmen have been emancipated from
the constraints of their former lives. But the
show misuses the word "freedom." Freedom
isn’t synonymous with hedonism, even if it is
made out to be in the cultural parlance of
today’s universities. Freedom is defined as
the absence of necessity, coercion, or
constraint in choice or action. It means an
individual can do as he or she chooses to do.
Hedonism is the doctrine that pleasure or
happiness is the sole or chief good in life.
Undeclared is undeniably hedonistic …
but is it accurate?
Critics claim Undeclared accurately
portrays the college life. Marc Allan of The
Indianapolis Star said: "Undeclared
defies convention. It's low-key, very funny and,
as a bonus, happens to get college life almost
exactly right." Time magazine was in
agreement: "Gut busting and touching,
Undeclared studies a volatile moment
of young adulthood closely, and the show has
its subject down cold." I agree and disagree
with this assessment. While
Undeclared doesn’t represent every
college student’s reality – it certainly wasn’t
mine – it does focus on a broadly understood
truism to which millions of collegians can
relate: morality cramps the pursuit of
pleasure, so pretend it doesn’t exist. On the
other hand, Undeclared is far from
realistic because in its portrayal of hedonism
it pretends consequences don’t exist.
Herein lies a difference between freedom and
hedonism. Freedom allows a person to make
his or her own choices, but also measures
the consequences of such choices. Consider
what it means to live in a free country. We can
worship how we please, but not if our worship
includes child sacrifice. We have free speech,
but we can’t yell "Fire!" in a crowded theater.
We can’t do these things because freedom
measures the consequences of our choices
and then restricts some options that may be
harmful. In contrast, hedonism tells us to do
whatever will give us the most pleasure at any
given moment. Consequences aren’t weighed
in the balance of making a decision, because
if they’re even potentially negative they
contradict the goal of hedonism – which is the
pursuit of pleasure.
Sexual "freedom," or hedonistic sexual
pleasure, is one of the themes of
Undeclared.
"Now’s the time we can experience anything,"
Steven says to the object of his obsession,
Lizzie, in episode one. "I can stay up to 11,
watch TV, eat candy all day …"
"You know what we should do?" Lizzie
suggests – about to indicate that Steven’s
setting his sights too low. "We should have
sex – for fun. Do you have a condom?"
As simple as that, Steven and Lizzie hook up.
Isn’t college fun? Isn’t freedom wonderful? It
could be mildly problematic that Lizzie’s
cheating on her boyfriend Eric, or making a
poor choice in being frivolous about sex. But
that would be an example of Steven and Lizzie
defying their collegiate commitment to
hedonism by considering consequences
instead of their loins. Lizzie, feeling some
regret after the escapade, asks her
roommate, "Am I a bad person?" The answer
from her roommate is "No!"
Lizzie is living according to a rampant
presupposition in today’s postmodern world –
if it feels right, it must be right. In episode two,
she breaks up and then – with the help of
Steven – gets back together with Eric. "I don’t
know how I’m going to feel about this later, but
I think I need this now," she tells Steven. "Then
it’s the right thing to do," Steven says, as if
right and wrong were indeed subjective and
only dependent on the blessing of an
individual. To make decisions based on
whatever feels best at the moment is to ignore
reality; namely, the reality of consequences,
which do exist even though they aren’t a part of
the doctrine of hedonism. In this way
hedonism is anti-freedom. The real life
consequences of promiscuity are gut
wrenching, even if there is lustful pleasure in
the heat of the moment. It’s a rip off that
television doesn’t address because lust
attracts more viewers, and sells more
advertising. We must pity those who have let
television influence their perspective on reality
(this would be true of most of us to one
degree or another). It’s a deep betrayal when
one experiences the painful reality of
consequences when he or she was focused
on the passion of the moment.
Another of Undeclared’s obsessions is
alcohol – beer, in particular. The show’s
premiere begins with the guys throwing a beer
bash on their floor, while the RA gives a
conspiratorial wink and nod. In episode two
Ron – like a frat boy who believes he and beer
have an actual relationship – can think of no
higher calling in life than to drink: "We’re not
roommates until we kill a keg together," he
informs his friends. Again, this is a somewhat
realistic portrayal of an obsession on college
campuses – the Greek system is living
testimony to it. But it’s a shallow and
one-sided presentation of alcohol on college
campuses. For one thing, it doesn’t go far
enough. At what college party is beer the only
substance being abused. What about hard
liquor, pot, or hard drugs? If this is reality, then
let’s show reality! Undeclared also
doesn’t go far enough in addressing the
consequences of alcohol.
Other than some mild retching, it seems all
this alcohol consumption is just good fun! The
Los Angeles Times gave the big picture
when it reported the following drinking related
facts:
* About 159,000 of first-year college students
will drop out of school for alcohol-or
drug-related reasons, according to the Core
Institute.
* More than 60% of college males and about
half of college females who are frequent binge
drinkers (the Times reported that nearly
half the nations 10.4 million 12 to 20-year-old
drinkers were binge drinkers) say they drink
and drive, according to a 1995 report from the
National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and
Alcoholism.
* Heavy drinking is the primary cause of date
rape, car accidents, campus violence and
student deaths, according to Phoenix House,
the substance abuse and treatment agency
located in New York, Texas and California.
Again, in the quest for hedonism
Undeclared misses realism. Drinking
is addressed as nothing more than what
college students do – and the fact that it’s
presented as normative and positive
demonstrates again that hedonism reigns.
Undeclared exists in a moral vacuum,
where neither right or wrong exist – and calls it
freedom.
While entertainment executives say that
Hollywood merely reflects cultural reality,
critics of Hollywood’s immorality say it
influences culture. Either way,
Undeclared is presenting a scary
college world where pursuit of pleasure is a
student’s highest calling – no matter the
consequences. It’s a sure recipe for slavery,
all in the name of freedom.
|