Just FYI before you dive in: if you don’t know me, I’m an Asian-American male born and raised in Hawaii, which really shouldn’t matter, but since this is discussing issues of race, it may be pertinent for some of you to know at least a minimal amount about where my perspective comes from.

If you haven’t seen it, this week’s episode of HIMYM featured a spoof of kung fu movies that put Josh Radnor, Cobie Smulders, and Alyson Haningan in “yellowface” – i.e. they were in Asian-looking clothing, hairstyle, and makeup.

In the days since, various media outlets have pointed to Twitter as proof that the people were outraged. Angry Asian Man did a short bit about it. The show’s creators apologized via Twitter to anyone they offended.

To which I say: this is fucking ridiculous.

Let me clarify. People certainly have their own opinions of what is and is not offensive. We’re all different, which means that “the line” for us is always different, as well. And if you happened to be offended by the episode, well, that’s certainly a valid choice for you.

But you’re wrong if you think that this was racist. Let’s look at some of your concerns and consider why.

“It was a stereotypical portrayal of Asians!”

This is true if you believe that pretty much all Asians eat noodles, are Martial Arts experts, and dress like we’re all in Kung Fu movies. And if you believe that, you’re the racist, not the show.

In all seriousness, commodification of Asian culture has a long history within American media, and on the surface, this does look similar to that. But the truly damaging stereotypes aren’t in costumes, makeup, or props (which I would make the argument are an aspect of the spoof, which they were clearly trying to pull off here – we’ll get more to this in a later point), but in the actual emotional portrayal of the Asian man/woman.

In actual, truly racist portrayals of Asians throughout the history of American media, the Asian man is weak, effeminate, non-threatening, asexual – with the exception of World War II, when the Japanese male was portrayed as a power-hungry monster. The woman is exotic, fetishized, a doll or flower to be admired/conquered/won over by the white protagonist.

Now, are these elements present in the portrayals here? One could make the argument that they are in some ways (particularly with Marshall having sex with the character portrayed by Lily, and considering the character portrayed by Ted was unmarried/unsuccessful with women), but it’s pretty clear that these elements stem directly from the fact that the roles are being played by Lily and Ted, and therefore have elements of their “real” personalities intertwined. In other words, it’s much more likely that the fact that they were played by Lily and Ted in Marshall’s story is what fed their characterizations and interactions with Marshall, not any attempt, consciously or unconsciously, to feed into Asian stereotypes.

“Why couldn’t they hire Asians to play these roles?”

One of the primary jokes propping up the whole story about Marshall’s training is the fact that the story is patently, obviously made up. Utilizing the main cast within the story helps reinforce that fact.

There are also a couple of practical reasons why you do this, like the fact that they’re your stars, and you want to utilize your stars. In addition, as I pointed out earlier, using the characters we already know as stand-ins for these masters gives us a shorthand to graft onto the characters – because our brains are going to infer (correctly) that these three “masters” are vaguely like the “real” people who we’re seeing portray them. This lets the viewer in on the joke much earlier, rather than being forced to introduce/setup/deal with someone we’ve never met before.

“If they had done this in blackface, people would have lost their s**t.”

Blackface has a very specific, very sad history within the history of American media, and like it or not, this portrayal of “yellowface” is not the equivalent. Look at the way the Japanese were portrayed in World War II propoganda films. Or Mickey Rooney in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. These are much more problematic portrayals of Asians, and would come much closer to the level of offensiveness that something like blackface has come to represent, and again, have almost nothing to do with costume and makeup, and everything to do with the portrayal of the person itself.

Is that fair? Maybe not. Especially if you felt that this was offensive. But if this is offensive, then you should probably also get upset any time anyone makes a joke about gingers. Or Canadians. Are those more socially acceptable to us just because the targets of the jokes are otherwise considered white?

“Why are they dressed in kimonos?”

I saw this on a blog reacting to the episode (which I won’t link to here). Kimonos are Japanese, not Chinese. Let’s at least get our facts straight if we’re going to be outraged.

“Why are they using faux-Asian accents?”

They weren’t. To be fair, that probably would have been too far. The cadence that they used in dialogue did sound closer to what has often been seen in Kung Fu movies, but again, I would argue that’s part of the spoof element at work, not stereotyping.

If that made you angry, I hope you wrote a sternly-worded email to Quentin Tarantino when he did Kill Bill, because he did the exact same thing.

 

So after all that, have we learned anything?

To be honest, probably very little. I think that there’s a very real difference between something being potentially offensive (which has a moving target) and racist (which has hatred and malice behind it). Anyone can take offense to anything, because everyone’s experience is different. A joke that’s perfectly funny to me about gout might be horribly offensive to you if you’ve suffered from gout. Our triggers are different, and it’s unfair to assume that a show can always understand what will/won’t set people off.

If I were in the HIMYM writers’ room, I would have absolutely been in favor of this spoof. Watching the episode, it felt pretty obvious to me that this was a spoof of a particular film subgenre, not an attack on a race or culture.

I’m not certain why this particular moment was what set people off regarding the portrayal of Asians in media – there have been much, much worse offenses, even in recent months (Dads and Two Broke Girls both have mined much worse Asian stereotypes on their shows. So, too, for that matter, has Modern Family), and none of these still hold a candle to the actual racism that still occurs today.

If you didn’t think it was funny, that’s fine. Heck, if you were offended, that’s fine too – nobody can judge what’s “too much” for you other than yourself.

But racist? Hardly.

Remember way, way back in Fall 2013, when we were so excited for all the new TV shows and the return of old favorites?

Sadly, as is becoming the norm, once the dust settles, many new shows end up underwhelming (I want to love you, The Michael J. Fox Show), underperforming (almost no show seems completely safe yet, not even Brooklyn Nine-Nine), or flat out being canceled (Back In The Game, we hardly knew ye (although to be fair we did get a pretty good sense of what the show was going to be and while it was reasonably enjoyable to me it didn’t do well enough ratings-wise to justify a back order)).

But the one upside to televisual chaos is that it means January is essentially another September, another launching pad for new shows, another chance at finding that increasingly unlikely (given the way we watch television now) breakout hit.

Just look at some of the new shows launching in the next few weeks: Intelligence (a.k.a. Chuck for CBS) premieres tonight topped by Lost’s Josh Holloway. Enlisted (created by Cougar Town’s Kevin Biegel) opens up on Friday for Fox. Helix for Syfy premieres the same night. HBO’s True Detective starts on Sunday. Chozen for FX comes down next week.

And that’s just counting a few new shows. NBC held Community for midseason this year. ABC did the same for Suburgatory. And cable has long established January as a premiere beachhead, which means my DVR will quickly begin filling up again, thanks to Justified, Cougar Town, Psych, Archer, Sherlock, and other shows that I’m forgetting at the moment but that my DVR, luckily, will remember to record for me.

The start of the calendar year brings new hope, new resolutions, an opportunity (albeit a constructed one based solely on our designation that this be the “start” of another trip around the sun) for fresh starts and a better tomorrow in our lives, as well as in television.

Of course, by March we’ll probably all be frustrated and angry and disappointed and ready for the next great pilots to be picked up so we can anticipate September all over again, but for now, I’m just going to sit back, relax, and gain ten pounds enjoy the new seasons.

Last night, like many, many other people, I watched the finale of “Breaking Bad” and was satisfied the ending that Vince Gilligan and company crafted for Walter White. It was not the most mind-blowing episode of the show (nor was it intended to be), but it brought the story to a close, something that most shows never arrive at.

I’m not going to get into a discussion of the episode itself – there are many, many talented TV reviewers and recappers out there who have done a great job exploring the finale and placing it into the context of the entire series (here are a couple worth checking out: Andy Greenwald over at Grantland, and Donna Bowman at AV Club). What I did find fascinating here was my actual experience watching the finale (as well as much of the last season), which was facilitated by a friend of mine who spent yesterday catching up on the final episodes and eventually sucked me into a mini-marathon covering the final six or so episodes, despite the fact that I had seen them all previously.

Those of you who know me (or read my occasional scribblings here, although to be fair if you’re reading this you probably know me anyway) know that I watch a LOT of television. But my work and life schedule  lead me to watch television at odd hours, often early in the morning or late at night, in a constant state of catch-up with what has just aired and what I’ve allowed to stack up on my DVR. The reason I mention, this, however, is that it means that I almost always watch television alone. It’s not a choice one way or the other (nor do I think it’s inherently a bad thing, as it allows me to start/stop/rewind/etc. at my own selfish pace) but simply a reality of how my schedule operates. “Breaking Bad” has been no different; while more diligent friends of mine hosted or attended weekly viewing parties, I was too often running behind or on my own schedule (or, something I’ll get to in another series of posts, working out of town), which meant that I watched the show by myself, whenever I had a chance to catch it.

But again, last night would be different, thanks to my friend, who decided at some point in the weekend that she would catch up on season 5 in time (ish) for the finale (full disclosure: we didn’t actually get to the finale until a few hours after it had aired, but we successfully embargoed social media until we saw it, so we arrived at the end spoiler-free).

I ended up joining the marathon around episode 11 (“Confessions”), which was actually beneficial to my eventual viewing of the finale, as doing so allowed me to catch/be refreshed on some details that I might have missed otherwise. But what ended up being more fascinating was watching with my friend as she consumed the episodes for the first time (this has also, incidentally, given me insight into what was just so fascinating about “Red Wedding” reaction videos, and why so many people decided that it would be a fun thing to record another friend’s reaction when they saw it for the first time). Having someone else there to react with/react to made the viewing experience all the more entertaining. Yes, we have Twitter and Facebook and message boards and actual after-the-fact discussions, but the immediacy of the experience was more entertaining in the same way that playing a video game against your friend in person is a different experience than playing over the internet.

Although it’s pretty obvious, I had somewhat forgotten how often entertainment is better when it’s a shared experience, where you as a viewer can react not only to what’s happening on screen but also what’s happening (or what you perceive is happening) in the minds of the people around you. It serves as an excellent reminder that we can learn so much more when we see can see an event from more than our own point of view, as well as compelling anecdotal evidence that your annoying friends who wait to watch a show together are, in fact, on to something.

Of course, it also helps if the person you’re watching a show with tends to react to big, shocking events roughly like this:

I love television. I mean really love it. It’s why I work in the industry, and why (my flimsy “it’s research!” excuses notwithstanding) I consume so much of it. But the amount that I consume, my own professional aspirations, and my odd schedule means that often, I watch television (and thus react to it) out of obligation rather than enjoyment. I keep up with shows because I need to be able to discuss them, or dissect them, not because I want, in that moment, to do nothing other than watch that show. In a lot of ways, it’s become a job. An incredibly fun job, to be sure, but a job nonetheless.

Last night, thanks to “Breaking Bad” (and my friend’s procrastination-driven marathon), I was, for a little while, an entertained viewer again. I watched not out of obligation, but because I genuinely wanted to. I remembered that there’s more to watching television than analysis, more to consider than how I would have handled the same scenario creatively. I was reminded how a show can elicit a powerful emotional response from a viewer. And although I didn’t jump out of my seat and run around the room physically, emotionally I was able to let go and just be glad to be along for the ride.