A three hour tour
I'm only halfway through my day's responsibilities, but I thought I ought to share an occurrence which took place this morning, as it actually represents the largest case of culture shock I can think of that's occurred in the last two or three months.
Our creative writing lecture this morning was headed by a screenwriter who'd produced some works for the BBC and iTV and whatnot, primarily sitcoms. She cited a number of different British sitcoms (including "The Office," but surprisingly omitting "Fawlty Towers," a favorite of mine) and talked about many different conventions of the genre and ideas for structuring episodic screenplays.
The curious incident came when she introduced the idea of "captivity" as a useful writer's tool, both for its practical ability to restrict location and for the ease with which it creates inter-character conflict. "There's a 1960s American sitcom called 'Gilligan's Island' that involves a bunch of characters trapped on a deserted island," the lecturer said.
My mind immediately flew to images of Bob Denver as the lovably inept Gilligan, constantly preventing the characters' escape by his incompetence, the wide array of surprisingly advanced technologies which the Professor is able to construct (in a MacGuyer-like manner) using only bamboo shoots and coconuts, and the nasally, pampered accent of Thurston Howell III, Esq. I couldn't help it, I laughed aloud at the images my mind conjured, a single, barking laugh, not inappropriately loud but of moderate volume.
The speaker paused briefly before continuing. Other students turned around in their seats to look at me. I covered my mouth politely, looking from face to face with an expression that was meant to say "sorry, but I couldn't help it, it's Gilligan." There was absolutely no recognition in anyone's eyes. The cold, unknowing stares of an entire populace greeted me. For a moment I frowned, confused. And then it hit me in one horrible, cataclysmic moment:
These people didn't know 'Gilligan's Island.'
I gaped, open-mouthed, as the lecturer went on to describe it as "kind of like Lost with gags." I recalled reading a Dave Barry article in which he posited that two-thirds of the American populace, when asked to sing the words "a three-hour tour," would automatically use the melody of the sitcom's theme. I realized that to these people, the phrase "li'l buddy" would have absolutely no cultural significance.
Not to know Gilligan-- how could such a thing come to pass?
Our creative writing lecture this morning was headed by a screenwriter who'd produced some works for the BBC and iTV and whatnot, primarily sitcoms. She cited a number of different British sitcoms (including "The Office," but surprisingly omitting "Fawlty Towers," a favorite of mine) and talked about many different conventions of the genre and ideas for structuring episodic screenplays.
The curious incident came when she introduced the idea of "captivity" as a useful writer's tool, both for its practical ability to restrict location and for the ease with which it creates inter-character conflict. "There's a 1960s American sitcom called 'Gilligan's Island' that involves a bunch of characters trapped on a deserted island," the lecturer said.
My mind immediately flew to images of Bob Denver as the lovably inept Gilligan, constantly preventing the characters' escape by his incompetence, the wide array of surprisingly advanced technologies which the Professor is able to construct (in a MacGuyer-like manner) using only bamboo shoots and coconuts, and the nasally, pampered accent of Thurston Howell III, Esq. I couldn't help it, I laughed aloud at the images my mind conjured, a single, barking laugh, not inappropriately loud but of moderate volume.
The speaker paused briefly before continuing. Other students turned around in their seats to look at me. I covered my mouth politely, looking from face to face with an expression that was meant to say "sorry, but I couldn't help it, it's Gilligan." There was absolutely no recognition in anyone's eyes. The cold, unknowing stares of an entire populace greeted me. For a moment I frowned, confused. And then it hit me in one horrible, cataclysmic moment:
These people didn't know 'Gilligan's Island.'
I gaped, open-mouthed, as the lecturer went on to describe it as "kind of like Lost with gags." I recalled reading a Dave Barry article in which he posited that two-thirds of the American populace, when asked to sing the words "a three-hour tour," would automatically use the melody of the sitcom's theme. I realized that to these people, the phrase "li'l buddy" would have absolutely no cultural significance.
Not to know Gilligan-- how could such a thing come to pass?
posted by Nate at 9:38 AM
2 Comments:
Your job for your next class:
Try to eplain Alf to them. See how they look at you then.
Dude, that would blow their fucking minds wide open.
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