Art, cinema and media studies

“Answer Me 1988” (응답하라 1988, Reply 1988): A Transmedia Text & Manual to Navigate Another Era’s Fandom

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According to Henry Jenkins in Convergence Culture, “the emerging convergence paradigm assumes that old and new media will interact in ever more complex ways” (6). Nowhere is this phenomenon more apparent than in the show Answer Me 1988 where several forms of media converge in one medium—television. The show includes cinema, video games, music, style (fashion, hair, makeup), internet chat rooms, comic books—even food package designs (iconic brands that are recognizable at a glance)—all of which are set in the 1980s. The main vehicle that Answer Me 1988 utilizes for its transmedia reception is the spectators’ nostalgia: “Convergence occurs within the brains of individual consumers and through their social interactions with each other” (3). Similar to The Matrix example explored by Jenkins, by blending various forms of old school pop culture items into one program, Answer Me 1988 becomes a transmedia text containing the 80s memory belonging to generation x but also one that works to clue in the later generations on the fandom of the past. As Jenkins defines in “Interactive Audiences?”: “Transmedia promotion presumes a more active spectator who can and will follow these media flows” (165). Answer Me 1988 assumes the kind of audience that is willing and able to follow its media flows regardless of the viewer’s age or background. This is evident in the show’s casting choices, music and the show’s ability to function as a manual to guide contemporary viewers through the nostalgia of a different era and culture.

ssangmun

Answer Me 1988 (2015-2016), written by Lee Woo-jung and directed by Shin Won-ho, is an hour long, twenty-episode Korean dramedy series that aired on the cable network tvN, owned by media conglomerates CJ Media and Fox International Channels. The show’s finale had an AGB Nielson rating of 18.8%, and a TNmS rating of 18.4%–both of which are considerably high numbers for a cable channel.[1] It is notable that although tvN is a pay cable channel, it does not contain any violence, nudity, sex or profanity, which encourages a family viewing experience. What this further suggests is that although viewers under the age of 30 may not recognize the tunes, films, commercial jingles and other media texts played on the show, the parents or older viewers who are watching alongside them might. The show creators bank on this type of audience interaction where convergence spreads across generations by reaching for a wider demographic: “…franchises depend on hypersociability, that is, they encourage various forms of participation and social interactions between consumers” (Convergence Culture, 112). This reach for a broader audience is apparent in the show’s casting.

Lee Hye-ri who plays the lead role—Deok-seon—is a K-pop star from the girl group Girl’s Day. She’s a recognizable face whose singing career spans 5 years with a budding acting career since 2014. The very act of crossing over one’s recognition as a singer to an actor is a form of transmediation; fans who are plugged into the pop world can be led into the drama world via Lee Hye-ri’s career transition. Furthermore, the show adds another dimension to Lee Hye-ri’s initial doll-like pop star image with her character image of Deok-seon, which is that of a normal neighborhood teenager with plain black cropped hair who doesn’t perform well in school but has a kind heart and a goofy personality thus humanizing her appearance. The manner in which a star’s image changes in the spectator’s mind is also a form of transmediation as it moves from singer to actor, but also from unreachable to accessible.

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The creators of Answer Me 1988 as well as the other Answer Me series (arguably a franchise), e.g. Answer Me 1997 (2012), Answer Me 1994 (2013), distance themselves from assumptions that the subsequent shows are sequels or prequels. However, the franchise does play with the series timeline as defined by Jenkins in Textual Poachers dropping in cameo appearances of actors from the earlier series to suggest a link or connection to one another (163). For instance, Sung Shi-won played by girl group K-pop star Jung Eun-ji in Answer Me 1997 appears in Answer Me 1994 alongside Jung Woo who plays Kim Jae-joon in Answer Me 1994. Kim Jae-joon then makes a cameo appearance in Answer Me 1988. This method of expanding the series timeline to keep Answer Me fans invested in the reality of the story world is a method of attracting viewers through a transmedia engagement (163). The creators’ strategy relies on casting and recasting. However, the recasting strategy also complicates the viewing experience as the protagonist’s parents played by Lee Il-hwa and Sung Dong-il are always the same throughout the series by retaining their dialects, persona, and names. This forces viewers to accept each series as its own text via “cross overs” of the protagonists’ parent figures; the protagonist’s character and actor changes whereas the parents do not (170). What may be comforting to viewers about this is knowing that there’s a through line connecting all three shows, and in that regard, the previous series’ storyline never really ended with the finale episode, thus indulging fans emotionally.

ilhwa dongil

K-pop star images aside, Answer Me 1988 has an original soundtrack album available on iTunes as well as in the form of a music video DVD produced and distributed by CJ Media. The soundtrack includes throwbacks like “Youth,” originally sung by the band Sanulrim in 1981 but covered by Kim Feel—a contemporary artist signed with the record label CJ E&M (a record company owned by CJ Media of tvN network). This is another example of the show’s function as a transmedia text, drawing a “common ground” between the old and new generations through a single song (Convergence Culture, 97). The song works as both a “cultural activator” and a “cultural attractor” through its ability to appeal to a younger crowd that recognizes Kim Feel the artist but also to the older generation that recognizes the tune that brings them back to 1981—the year that Sanulrim released the hit song “Youth” (97). The show transmediates through time, fame and fandom via a single song. While attracting and activating cultural significances for multiple groups, it operates through the older generation’s nostalgia while also creating a nostalgic sensation for the younger generation with songs that have a dated feel but are sung by recognizable artists today.

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As Jenkins states, “Our lives, relationships, memories, fantasies, desires also flow across media channels” (Convergence Culture, 17). In Answer Me 1988, the show’s creators allow viewers to have a transmedia experience through a visual flashback across media channels experiencing everything from old music via cassette tapes that get visibly inserted into a cassette player, followed by a long montage of the characters’ faces simply listening as the song plays out in its entirety, to live concert shows on TV that the characters watch excitedly as a group. What makes Answer Me 1988 a unique transmedia text is its ability to work also as a fandom instruction manual in the form of a show. The indulgent scenes illustrated earlier inform younger spectators on the fandom culture that existed before their time. In this particular story world, fandom itself converges across generations.[2] The enthusiastic reception of the characters watching these shows informs a younger spectator of the fan culture back when those shows, tunes, and films were at their peak. Fandom gets instructed to younger viewers via this transmedia text, where witnesses (characters) respond with joy to the movie, song or TV show playing inside the show. The show creators consciously designed a story world where multiple generations could learn to appreciate the various forms of transmediated texts throughout. Jenkins states that our society is “increasingly fragmented and multicultural,” however this show’s ability to draw a diverse viewership through a period piece that exploits a recent past and its nostalgic elements is striking (Convergence Culture, 125).[3]

There is a considerable number of articles and research indicating Korean dramas’ global fan base reaching beyond South Korea. K-drama streaming sites such as Viki and DramaFever report higher percentages of non-Korean viewers than Korean viewers tuning in. In the case with transnational fandom for Answer Me 1988, how does a nation’s specific cultural nostalgia translate, especially when “not all participants are created equal,” meaning, when not all participants share the same memory and cultural experience (3)? What makes Answer Me 1988 a transmediated text is that it is accessible beyond just generation X Koreans. There are multiple entry points for viewers to interact with the text: familiar voices, faces, products, and the creators’ signature. Fans who’ve seen the previous Answer Me shows presumably have an appreciation for this one as well, and notice patterns throughout. The show successfully establishes a sense of “common experience” or ground where audiences across generations and cultures can find ways to engage with the text. As Jenkins illustrates, the internet has made fan experience global, and fans on the margins may now partake in that collective “knowledge space” or realm (“Interactive Audience?,”158). Beyond space, transmedia also breaks boundaries across time (generation gaps) as evidenced by Answer Me 1988.

Grace Jung
May 13, 2016

Bibliography

Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: NYU Press, 2008.

Jenkins, Henry. 2002. “Interactive Audiences?” The New Media Book, edited by Dan Harries. 157-170. London: BFI.

Jenkins, Henry. Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture. New York: Routledge, 2013.

 

[1]Reply 1988: Episode Ratings,” All About Korean Drama, http://www.koreandrama.org/reply-1988/, May 5, 2016.

[2] See also “Analogue Nostalgia and the Aesthetics of Digital Remediation” by Dominik Schrey.

[3] The high reception of the Answer Me series that utilizes nostalgia (created or triggered) as its hallmark influenced MBC’s variety/reality show Infinite Challenge to take on similar tasks by reuniting old K-pop groups that disbanded in the 90s or early 2000s and putting on live concerts which then influenced the music charts around the time those shows aired; 90s hits became the most requested songs on radios or the most downloaded songs at those times. A K-drama’s approach influencing a variety/reality show’s unscripted production is also, arguably, a form of transmedia, where different genres of television share (borrow or steal) a similar concept that eventually impacts yet another industry’s variable—the music charts.

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cinema and media studies, Film, Gender Studies, ideology, korea, korean drama

quick thoughts on 사도/The Throne (2015)

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I needed another fix of Yoo Ah-in starring in yet another dramatic period piece, and this time by filmmaker Yi Joon-ik with Sado (2015). It stars Song Kang-ho who plays King Yeongjo, a father with mountain high expectations of his second son, Jang-jo (posthumously named Crown Prince Sado) who history writes as an insane and troubled soul that went around raping and killing people randomly throughout the palace due to his mental illness largely attributed to the deep anxiety caused by his strict father. Yeongjo’s constant disapproval and disdain for his son’s actions drove Jang-jo mad with rage.

One day, after an attempted murder of the King, Sado is captured and forced into a wooden rice crate and left inside of it for eight days straight until he dies of dehydration and starvation. It’s a dramatic epic, and pretty awesome one at that. Just listen to this music. Beautifully crafted imagery, and truly idiosyncratic performance given by Song Kang-ho. I’ve never seen an actor play a period epic blending cool and casual wit with cruelty, sorrow and passion in such balanced synchrony.

The film is ultimately a family drama. The women in the film, again, don’t have it easy. There’s tension between concubines, and among the queens, although in general, the women seem to look after one another a little better than in the Hui Bin drama…

Yoo Ah-in, in Sado, plays the grandson of King Sukjong, which he himself played in Jang Ok-Jung (2013). Yoo’s performance is excellent as well albeit I feel like I’ve seen his range already in Jang Ok-Jung. Also, great cameo appearance by heartthrob So Ji-sub.

For more info on the film, please refer to this great review on The Hollywood Reporter. 

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Art, cinema and media studies

on the excess (perverse, gross) & smell (odor) re ‘Lucy’ & ‘The Last Angel of History’

Linda Williams’ “Film Bodies: Gender, Genre and Excess” discusses excess in equation with the “gross” and the “perverse,” much like Foucault describes the sex-police’s view of any sexual immorality that does not fulfill reproduction as excessive and therefore perverse. I like Williams’ description of what makes genres such as the melodrama, porn and horror excessive through their added visual and aural effects for the screen.

I’ve often wondered why I avoided genre films that cause an intense bodily experience through added effects–excess effects–and it’s because, much like Mary Ann Doane’s description–I feel like my senses are being “raped” or manipulated by these kinds of films. I hate walking out of a theater with all my senses worked up, which is why I prefer films without a lot of music to “hijack” my emotions, or excessive effects that make me think about driving a fast car all day. Maybe it’s the dishonesty that offends me–walking out feeling like my body has been tricked, or like waking up after a blackout. This is kind of why I found Lucy so unpleasant. Watching something with so many effects early in the morning was overwhelming. It reminds me of the time I went to a matinee screening of Wolf of Wall Street and feeling kind of assaulted for the rest of the day. It also reminds me of the time in college when a roommate was watching The Messenger, so I had to leave the room because I absolutely hated what was going on.

The experience is similar to how Laura Marks describes the synthetic smell of jasmine in “Thinking Multisensory Culture,” and how this deprives one of accessing the real. I like staying present in my being even when watching a film. It’s a more comfortable state for me. The kinds of films that do that for me are often really slow ones, and I like being able to turn my neck in the theater to examine the entire screen to take time and notice the picture in its entirety. But that’s just me. There are plenty of people who can’t stand movies by Apitchatpong Weerasethakul but I dig them.

Williams’ connection of the three genres and how they link to ideas of excess, perverse, and gross is a lot like Marks’ connection to the truffles, the pigs and human perspiration/excrement. I’ve often thought about perfumes and how manufacturers add deer musk to them. This idea of using animal perspiration in order to please human social environments was always interesting and weird for me. It makes a point on how the use of an animal perspiration in order to mask human odor actually blurs the line between what pleases the human olfactory and offends it.

The blurry line between what pleases and offends, and how pleasure and offense are socially acquired concepts also interest me, like how white cultures hated Korean food for so long because it stinks but now they’re all about it. The rise in Korean food’s popularity is in conjunction to the country’s rise as a global economy. That offensive smell of fermented soybeans and cabbage, which was once a huge cause for alarm (there’s a story in 1960s Germany, when Korean students made soybean stew in their dorms, the authorities called fire trucks believing that the sewage pipes had burst), is now a fad, and is now in the realm of acceptable smelly foods like smelly cheeses are (has anyone ever smelled a piece of raclette?).

To critique the film Lucy a bit further, I found this line, “Do you speak English?” coming up again and again really distasteful. Even when they’re in France, the cop asks the gangsters, “Do you speak English?” not “Do you speak French?” It’s this blockbuster preference for English always–no matter what–because that’s the way to sell–and assuming that if a person has an Asian face, the question, “Do you speak English?” must always be asked by default. A language that isn’t English is like a smell that needs to be expunged or covered up with loud images, sounds and effects. These gangsters are speaking a language we don’t understand or care to understand; the audience won’t understand or care to understand. Let’s make a million police cars tumble over one another so that people can forget about their irrelevant language.

Even after Lucy acquires all these new skills, and while knowing full-well that she is in Taipei, she walks around with a gun demanding to speak only to people who speak English. Otherwise, they’re shot to death. So bizarre. Crazy. When I saw that scene in the trailer in theaters, I knew I didn’t want to pay to go see this movie. A scene like that celebrates exceptionalism. How Luc Besson and his producers don’t see the danger in that is depressing to me.

Having Choi Min-sik star in a film that is set in Taipei is also weird. Much like how kimchi and dwenjang are part of white fetishism/fad, the star of Old Boy is now part of the perfume club. But why is there a Korean g sitting around in Taipei? Why not his own country? It’s another one of those–“Oh, they’re all the same–doesn’t matter”–kind of moviemaking pull: “Taiwanese, Korean–same face, same thing.”  There’s no explanation for this displacement. Even while conducting business in Taipei, Choi’s character speaks Korean. He’s linguistically impotent–no Mandarin, no English, no French–just a violent Korean thug. I found this bit distasteful, too, not to mention irresponsible.

If I have to dig for merits to the film, I’d say the effects were really interesting. They were avant-garde, and exploring something we don’t know yet, and imagining a future. I enjoyed the interruption shots of the mouse trap/mouse, and the predator/prey. These random intercuts show the versatility of the moving image as a medium in order to express mood.

These kinds of avant-garde techniques are present in The Last Angel of History. The film reminds me of videos I’ve seen at museums that play with sound and image for a new experience. The film itself is in line with what the black musicians like Sun Ra, George Clinton and others were attempting with futuristic sounds and experiences. This reference to the future as a return to something is infinitely fascinating to me. I think there’s something there to explore with regards to excess, too, and the excess’ history in relation to sci-fi and sensationalism. It’s something I’ll be thinking about.

(originally posted on FTVDM’s discussion board)

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Art

new changes to blog posts

Most of my blog posts have been still photographs and occasionally a video clip of random sightings in my immediate vicinity but I think I’ll add another component and post my thoughts on films I see every now and again.

I recently moved to LA and I’m getting my master’s degree in cinema & media studies. I am obliged (and willing!) to go to the movies at least once a week, and I come across a great deal of cinema and other forms of media on a weekly basis. So I’ll just post some thoughts on that here.

-GHJ

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