Celeste Oon - Core Response #3

I was fascinated by this week’s reading on the gendered dynamics and representations within North by Northwest (1959), and their ties to war ideologies. Cohan explains that Roger Thornhill represented the lingering fear that “attractive, middle-class American men… had ‘lost the male image’ and become ‘emasculated males’ [and this] was part of a ‘decline in national prestige and confidence’ generally during the latter part of the decade (Oakley 413)” (p. 6). This was directly related to anxieties surrounding the Cold War and threats of communism. Cohan cites two other authors who elaborate on the gendered connotations of diverging nations: Attwood, who states that “[t]he danger, of course, is that [the American male] will become too soft, too complacent and too home-oriented to meet the challenge of other dynamic nations like China and the Soviet Union… (“Why” 74-75)” (p.6), and May, who states that “[n]ational strength depended upon the ability of strong, manly men to stand up against communist threats (94)” (p. 6). According to Cohan, the film explores ideas of threatened masculinity through Roger’s character, whom at first represents the emasculated man due to his profession, dependency on his mother, and inability to retain a marriage.

While reading, my mind immediately went to a similar example in China which reflects the same fears of the feminization of men, while also providing a counter association between gender and ideology. A few years ago, the Chinese government launched a crackdown on what it called “sissy men.” There was a concern that boys were not growing up with adequate masculine influence (and excessive feminine influence), and that this would be detrimental for the country. Celebrities were some of the first people hit by this tightening of the rules: male celebrities were banned from wearing earrings on TV, leading to many blurred earlobes on programs that were filmed before the campaign. (It should be mentioned that anti-Korean and -Japanese sentiment also factored into this, because it was said that the glamor of male K-pop and J-pop idols had a hand in influencing the appearance of male Chinese idols). Reminiscent of the US’ sentiment as exemplified by Cohan, the state decreed that there had been a “‘masculinity crisis’ for the past few years, with one top official warning that ‘effeminate’ men in popular culture were corrupting ‘a generation’… [and] that young men need to have ‘toughness and strength,’” (New York Times).

Hence, not only did they ban “sissy men and other abnormal aesthetics” from TV, they also began regulating celebrities’ online profiles and their fan communities (New York Times). (I could elaborate much more on this, but celebrity worship and fan culture has been criticized by the Chinese government as abnormal behavior that should be controlled.) These regulations were a direct response to what was viewed as a shifted landscape in gender expression as well as excess, which held larger implications for the country. And it was no surprise that celebrities were among those who were subject to changes—who better to model the views of a nation than those who are in the public eye the most?

Calling back to how masculinity and cold war sentiment were directly related, a lot of the aforementioned actions were wrapped in rhetoric surrounding revolution. They were part of Xi Jinping’s efforts towards “national rejuvenation” and were ultimately aimed at “vigorously promot[ing] excellent Chinese traditional culture, revolutionary culture and advanced socialist culture” (USA Today). Within this framework, gender(ed) expression and masculinity are directly related to the performance of the greater nation, and an upheaval of a society’s culture must necessarily encompass gender. And though not necessarily referring to war explicitly, uses of the term “revolutionary” and its associations with war (both intra- and inter-nationally) are striking. The parallels between this sentiment and that of the US during the Cold War are highly significant, and reveal an ongoing struggle that plagues national interests until today.

Lastly, I would like to point out an interesting contrast between the two cases. Cohan mentions that in the American context, there was “an association of communists with emasculation and perversion” (p. 7). But in examining the Chinese case, it seems that emasculation is tied to the opposite system—capitalism. As some of the first targets of policy changes, celebrities represent the extravagance of highly capitalistic and consumerist industries. (Think again to the mention of foreign influence from Korea and Japan, which also boast some of the most hyper-consumerist celebrity models.) Even further, the targeting of celebrities’ fans illustrates the same type of pushback, aimed at curtailing the massive amounts of financial spending that fans carry out to support stars. Thus, a movement from the state to restrict celebrities and renew masculinity is a movement to regulate capitalism and return to core socialist values.

I write all of this to say that I find it fascinating to think about how the relationships between gender and celebrity alter in trans-national and -cultural contexts. Though our focus is on Hollywood this semester, there is so much value in exploring global celebrity industries.