Author: nguyenj3

By Jonathan Nguyen.

I recently finished watching the HBO Max series (or is Max now…) Quiet On Set: The Dark Side of Kids Television the other day. Honestly speaking though, I didn’t even know that this series was released (or even series at all) if it wasn’t for the emergence of the series on my TikTok feed. I remember I was scrolling through my TikTok and there was a video of Drake Bell coming forward about being sexually assaulted while he was child acting on Nickelodeon. Naturally, the two minute segment on TikTok had me pulled into the series and before I knew it, I was finished with the four episode documentary. 

While I was watching the docu-series, it occurred to me that there were so many issues relating to gender and race happening behind the scenes of many of my favorite television series growing up and even more that goes unheard of on many other sets. Watching this series reminded me of one of the class readings I had for my TV Studies Seminar: Felecia D. Henderson’s writing of “The Culture Behind Closed Doors: Issues of Gender and Race in the Writer’s Room”. 

I knew that the issues of gender and race in many different fields is an ongoing issue, but being able to read personal experiences and short anecdotes made me realize the extent to these issues in the industry workplace. Having read this reading in conjunction with watching Quiet On Set and actually hearing and seeing a variety of different perspectives and personal recollections on this matter made me realize how awful these biases can be. Quiet On Set excels in shining light onto these prevalent and ongoing issues that aren’t talked about as much as they should be. Yet this is only one step towards tackling this issue and I hope that there continues to be dialogue and conversation relating to this. 

Thus, I have a few questions that I am curious to hear your responses on. Is there a way to limit these unethical approaches and treatment in the television industry? Or at the very least, methods to ensure that the environment on set–both on-screen and off-screen–fosters a community that is collaborative and inclusive?

By Jonathan Nguyen

Let this be clear–I have never seen an episode of BoJack Horseman. Aside from a handful of clips of the show on various social media and excitedness from my friends, my scope of what the show entails is limited to existential audio quotes and adult animation. Thus, having seen BoJack Horseman’s sixth episode of season five, “Free Churro,” on a big screen at the Weitz Cinema at Carleton College, my expectations were exceeded. 

From an aesthetical analysis of “Free Churro,” there is a lot to unpack. The seemingly endless monologue of BoJack giving an eulogy at his mother’s funeral almost feels like I’m drowning in a constant flow of word vomit. This style of narrative story telling in combination with Netflix’s lack of commercials feels like I’m being forced to gulp down everything that’s being feeded to me. Additionally, the aesthetics of BoJack Horseman can also come at odds with its ideological content. Its pure monologue can cause the audience to become bored at times (at least, this was the case for me during my first watch through). 

Furthermore, the lack of major visual changes and the overall minimalistic approach to shot sizes and framing throughout BoJack Horseman’s “Free Churro” guides me to fully interpret the content and words that BoJack is saying. BoJack discusses real-world topics such as coming to terms with the death of a parent (an estranged parent, that is) that transcends the boundaries of the television screen. I honestly found BoJack’s eulogy (or rant?) pretty introspective despite my previous preconceptions of the show (or lack thereof). For just being an adult animation, BoJack Horseman does a pretty good job of bending and twisting and molting together so many different types of genres to create something unique to its brand.

By Jonathan Nguyen

As an avid fan of the acclaimed series, How I Met Your Mother, investing my time in watching its latest spin-off series How I Met Your Father was inevitable. I had become emotionally attached to watching Ted Mosby and his group of life-long friends grow and develop as characters. I mean, after nine seasons, wouldn’t you? 

So, after approximately 8 years since How I Met Your Mother’s final season aired and we at last finally see [SPOILER ALERT] Ted Mosby meeting The Mother and his coping with her unexpected and controversial death [SPOILER ALERT], I was eager see how this spin-off would live up to the original. Though How I Met Your Father had some fun moments, I believe it ultimately fails to deliver the charm Ted Mosby and company had. 

Through Stuart Hall’s dominant, negotiated, and oppositional readings of television text, I explore why How I Met Your Father’s stint on air may have been so short-lived. 

The potential dominant readings of How I Met Your Father is that this is a sitcom set in contemporary times, intricately weaving in references to the technologized, modern world. The clear contrast with having a female lead versus the original series’ male lead alongside a supporting cast ranging from multiple gender and ethnic identities would suggest to a viewer how the television industry is striving towards diversity and inclusivity. The show ultimately aims for its audience to see how the diverse group of friends organically form a friendship that blossoms in parallel to the original while Hillary Duff’s character, Sophie, searches for her soulmate.

An oppositional reading however, might potentially leave viewers finding this contemporary take as dishonoring the original series. How I Met Your Father’s theme of friendship is drowned out by what some viewers may interpret as diversity for the sake of diversity. How I Met Your Father’s cast consists of a white American man, an adopted sister who identifies as Asian and lesbian, two south Asian characters who met in medical school, a British man hailing from a wealthy and aristocratic family, and a hispanic woman all becoming friends with one another while the white American woman searches for the love of her life. Is this diversity or tokenism?

A negotiated reading of How I Met Your Father encompasses aspects from both the dominant and oppositional readings. The expectations for How I Met Your Father–and really, many other spin-off shows from popular series such as Better Call Saul deriving from Breaking Bad and AMC’s The Walking Dead giving rise to Fear the Walking Dead–are set high. No one likes it when the new taints the old. How I Met Your Father had big shoes to fill, naturally. In combination with the high standards set by its predecessor and the series’ need to provide a modern and diverse approach when writing its characters, it’s understandable why a negotiated reading may blend together the show’s periods of enjoyment with projections of modern society’s unattainable ideals.

Though I did enjoy watching How I Met Your Father, my viewing of the show was nothing more than a “filler” I would watch during my meals. I didn’t feel as connected to the spin-off series as I did with the original. Seeing now that the show got canceled, I must say I am a little bummed they didn’t tell us who the father is. With that said though, Jessie is most definitely the father.