Rich Little Rich Boy

In the wake of the financial crisis and the continued class warfare we have seen in recent years, it is interesting to note the number of movies and television shows that have returned us the golden 80s celebration of wealth and privilege. Two come from England and PBS -- the award-winning Downton Abbey and reverb version of Upstairs Downstairs. Both do hold the rich aristocrats under a microscope but in many ways also celebrate their privilege and the "lesser" servants who, well, serve them. This is particularly striking in the former case, where the shows producer, director and writer is a member of that aristocracy and a conservative Tory who fundamentally believes that society has suffered for its democratizing of class and privilege. The latter puts a more critical eye on the wealthy, but still celebrates their opulence, call to service and, in an odd sense, normalcy behind the crystal, jewels, parties and seven course dinners. In the UK, there has been a backlash against Dowton Abbey but here there is little criticism from the enthralled masses and fans. And we not only have The Apprentice returning for another season, together with the unbearable Kardashians, but the return of Dallas and a host of other shows that put a relatively humanizing gaze upon the one percent.

And recent Hollywood films have celebrated the wealthy as well, not only for the aspirational lifestyles they sell but also for the service they provide to the inferior masses. Perhaps no series more uncritically reflects this perspective than the three Batman films of Christopher Nolan. The dead Wayne father is deified throughout the first film by his trusty butler Alfred, who sings his praise as if his wealth was purely a matter a merit and he were an angel sent to earth to help the poor and hungry of Gotham (before being killed by thugs who clearly didn't realize how great a man he was). We see a similar encomium targeted toward the selfless Batman who no longer seeks love or even pleasure except as a front for his vengeful desire to save the city he seems to secretly despise. We also see it in a different way in the obnoxious, intellectual elitist Tony Starks in the Avengers and Iron Man series. And in its most pathetic form in the ill-advised Green Hornet remake. Adam Sandler has also made a career of playing naive wealthy fools who realize the error of their ways and save the company or workers from the evil capitalists around him (as Chris Farley did in Tommy Boy). It is not that Hollywood is uncritical of the wealthy, as for example in a host of comedies and dramas including The Big Lebowski and The Hunger Games. But just as television treats the wealthy as fodder for so many of their aspirational dreams, Hollywood too often finds ways to make the wealthy seem sympathetic and worthy of our respect. 

It seems no coincidence that these films emerge at a time when we are asking serious questions about the growing inequality in the country. Television has been playing up the lifestyles of the rich and famous since the 80s and commercials have always tried to sell us a dream that seems unlikely to instantiate itself in the realm of the real, but it is interesting to contemplate the extent to which popular culture reinforces the hegemony of the elites. From family dramas and comedies that remind us of the price of rebelling against the normative to reality television that says win at any cost, the message is clear that resistance is futile. This is reinforced through constantly negative portrayals of politicians and bureacrats and the elevation of the lone hero who fights against the system to restore justice -- generally by merely keeping things as they are. It was Umberto Eco that first noted that Superman is a conservative figure that merely restores order and reinforces the status quo. Lawrence and Jewett furthered this idea with their notion of the American Monomyth, the heroes from the lone cowboy to Dirty Harry to Charles Bronson in the Death Wish series to superheroes who come in to save the day and then disappear again into the background. We still have these solitary heroes, but another brand has emerged -- the monied class who are heroic merely for having succeeded (even if it was at birth by "choosing" the right family). It will be interesting to see if a more critical treatment of the working class emerges to reflect the new sensibility of so many people -- of course I wouldn't hold my breath.