Mixed Reviews: Master of None and the Portrayal of
Interracial Romance in Modern Media
By Miguel Luis Calayan
University of Amsterdam
College of Humanities
For the degree of Master of Arts in
Media Studies: Television and Cross-Media Culture
Under the Supervision of
Dr. Sudeep Dasgupta
With Jaap Kooijman as the Second Reader
May 2018
T
ABLE OFC
ONTENTSCHAPTER ONE: AN INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER TWO: THE RISE OF RACE 5
LAWS AND LABELS 5
MEDIA MINORITIES 7
CHAPTER THREE: THE INTERRACIAL ISSUE 12
POLICIES AND PERCEPTIONS 12
INTERRACIAL INVISIBILITY 12
EQUAL BUT NOT OBLIVIOUS 13
ANTICIPATED REACTIONS 14
NOVELTY GIVES WAY TO NUANCE 17
CHAPTER FOUR: INTIMATE MATTERS 21
AFFECTION AVOIDED 21
NEW SCRIPTS, SAME STORY 23
DEV THE DISRUPTOR 26
SEX WITH SUBSTANCE 29
INTIMACY,ITALIAN STYLE 33
CHAPTER FIVE: CONCLUSION 40
MOVING ON 40
FURTHER DISCUSSIONS 42
FINAL THOUGHTS 43
CHAPTER ONE: AN INTRODUCTION
In 2016, when Alan Yang stepped on stage to accept the Emmy for Outstanding Comedy Writing for his show Master of None (2015- ), he started with a fairly standard speech. He thanked his collaborators, the cast, and the crew. He then deviated from the formula and made this quip:
“Thank you to all the straight white guys who dominated movies and TV so hard and for so long that stories about anyone else seem kind of fresh and original now.”
Laughter and applause erupted in the Microsoft Theater. The joke succeeded with the audience because they knew it had a grain of truth – that despite the ever-changing American demographic, film and television have still been predominantly white (Smith, 2014). Particularly with romantic films, producers are more inclined to put out love stories between a white man and white woman (Weaver, 2011). Then comes Master of
None, a romantic comedy series featuring an Asian Indian-American man dating a white
woman. Not only was it able to launch on an established network and gain a vast viewership, but it also received critical acclaim (Goodman, 2017; Poniewozik, 2015; Travers, 2015). With a media landscape that has historically resembled a mound of snow with a few speckles of color, this is nothing short of a major milestone. Decades ago, such a triumph would have been inconceivable.
If this show had broadcast in the United States in the early 20th century, it would have been scandalous, to say the least. Witnessing the main character Dev kissing Rachel, his white love interest, would have been described as immoral, devious, (Angel, 2007) and until 1967 while anti-miscegenation laws were still upheld, criminal (Loving v. Virginia). Back then, it was not just interracial marriage that was punishable by law, but any form of interracial intimacy could result in a prison sentence. The most severe consequences mostly fell on black males who have been caught having sexual relations with white females, but Asians did not so fare so well either. As detailed in Rachel Moran’s book
Interracial Intimacy, on top of the all-encompassing law that prohibited marriages
between whites and non-whites, Asians (which according to legislation, included those of Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, and Asian Indian descent.) were denied any means of citizenship, thereby stripping them of the ability to own property. With that, Asian males were then seen as less desirable than their more privileged, white counterparts. Had
Master of None been set in 1950’s America, the first season would likely end with Dev
locked up behind bars.
While in 1967 the Supreme Court deemed marriage between whites and non-whites to be legally acceptable, it did not instantly make the union socially acceptable. In the year following the decision, the approval rate was only at 20% (Gallup, 2013). These attitudes were reflected in the media. For instance, the film Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner (1967) centered on a black man and white woman seeking approval from their parents. The
main conflict is in their racial differences. All throughout the introduction, the people who witness the couple have all sorts of reactions ranging from perplexed to full-on repulsed. Even in the following years, films such as Come See The Paradise (1990),
Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story (1993), Far From Heaven (2002), or Guess Who (2005), the
racial and cultural differences serve as main plot points in the narrative. Interracial desire, in these cases, is portrayed as a crisis – and is often the very catalyst of the story. Thus, the fact that a white person and colored person are put together turns these dramas and comedies into “issue films.” By contrast, in Master of None, Dev’s Indian heritage is acknowledged and referred to, but is never seen as an obstacle.
Even with these films portraying the kind of love that crosses racial boundaries, there is a certain hesitation in how the creators depict their romance. Specifically, they pull back when it comes to physical affection. Despite its then-revolutionary stand, Guess Who’s
Coming to Dinner still proceeded with caution; only one kiss between the couple survived
the final edit (Beltrán & Fojas, 2008). Even in films that came out decades later – Made
In America (1993) and Bringing Down The House (2003), for instance – the physical
affection is minimal, characters keep their clothes on, and while sex is implied, it is not overtly shown on camera (Charlery, 2011). In 1968, it was considered a cultural landmark when Star Trek aired the first interracial kiss, even when the people involved, Kirk and Uhura were technically of different species. The network then was also hesitant to broadcast that moment, even insisting that they film a version in which the two did not kiss. (Higgins, 2016) It is then quite a statement considering Master of None shows graphic sex, with its accompanying sounds and movements, in the very first frame of the very first episode.
To introduce the series with such a brazen display of physical intimacy is especially significant due to Aziz Ansari’s Asian Indian heritage. As he and Yang wrote the series, they knew that they were going against the weight of decades-long Indian stereotypes. One such overt example is in the character of Raj from The Big Bang Theory (2007– ) who is mostly seen as inept around women, nonthreatening, and asexual. (Gupta, 2016) By showing Dev as having success in his romantic pursuits and at one point, even sleeping with a white man’s wife, the show subverts the idea of Asian Indians simply being a model
minority (Inman et al., 2011). For once, the Indian character is not just a comedic foil
whose main traits are mathematical abilities and a peculiar accent. This time, the Indian is shown as a fully formed character with desires, agency, and actual formidability in the dating realm.
With its approach to racial difference, displays of intimacy, and stereotypes, there is so much to study, and that is precisely what this paper aims to do. Through a review of past discourse and a critical analysis of the show (its writing, editing, cinematography, and casting choices), it seeks to answer the question:
In comparison to past depictions of interracial romance in film and television, how has Master of None handled the underlying issue politics,
representation of intimacy, and racial stereotypes for Asian and Indian characters?
As the question involves multiple facets, each will be explored in their respective chapters. Before anything, there must be a discussion of the history of race in America. The first section will focus on the categorization of race, the policies targeting specific racial groups, the formation and absolution of anti-miscegenation laws, and the shifting perceptions following the 1967 Loving v. Virginia case. This is a necessary starting point, as it provides the proper context for how film and television first approached the issue of interracial romance. With the formation of race and its labels came the accompanying perceptions. There cannot be a discussion of race without a foray into racial stereotypes. How does Dev compare to previous stereotypical portrayals of Indians on television? In the next chapter goes from the media’s portrayal of interracial romance, starting with
Master of None’s issue politics. In the two seasons, Dev has been involved with women
from different races, including two main arcs involving white women. How does Dev’s “Indian-ness” play a part in his romantic pursuits? Compared to past films and shows that have shown couples of two different races, how much does the racial difference drive the story? Is it still presented as a source of conflict? Does the show approach the topic in a way that is more color-conscious or colorblind (Smith, 2013; Stewart, 2013; Moran, 2001)? In the following chapter, I will then look at the show’s representation of intimacy. Compared to past depictions of interracial intimacy and to contemporary depictions of same-sex intimacy, how does Master of None handle the physical side of Dev’s romantic relationships? Does the show overtly present interracial sex or does it choose to tiptoe around it? Of course, this is not the only facet of romance that is worth analyzing. Echoing Myra Washington’s lamenting of television’s interracial couples having only either sexless love or loveless sex (2012), I must also assess how the show addresses the emotional aspect of Dev’s relationships.
Throughout the paper, the critical analysis will rely heavily on comparison. References will be made to scenes from the films mentioned above. These are necessarily for establishing a baseline before analyzing segments from Master of None. By describing and dissecting dialogue from past titles and directly comparing that to those from the show, the changes in attitude and portrayal become much more pronounced.
Although Master of None is not the first show to depart from long-held conventions, its status as a commercial and critical success makes it particularly important to study. Television has the ability to shape viewers’ ideals of attraction (Adams-Bass et al., 2014), their perception of minorities (Tukachinksy, 2015), as well as their attitudes toward interracial relationships (Lienemann & Stopp, 2013). The series has reached millions of viewers (O’Connell & Goldberg, 2016) through a network that regularly streams billions of hours of content per week (Netflix Media Center, 2017) in an era where majority of millennials state Netflix as their preferred source of original content (Santiago, 2017).
The show has not only been well received by audiences but by critics as well. Ansari has just recently won a Golden Globe for his acting as well as an Emmy for writing. He won this alongside co-writer and co-star Lena Waithe, who happens to be a black lesbian. With a creative team made of minorities from varying backgrounds, the show is able to shine a light on stories not normally told. When telling stories of cultures outside of the majority, they do not have to run through the filter of a white – often, male – perspective. Therefore, they are able to focus on facets that might remain unnoticed (Caspi & Elias, 2011). These narratives and characters have always existed, but they are not broadcast due to the demographic of those who hold power. In the year that Master of None premiered, only 10% of Hollywood showrunners were people of color (Ryan, 2016).
Netflix, however, has been able to create more opportunities to those outside the majority. Aside from Master of None, they have made a show about an all-female ensemble in prison (Orange Is The New Black, 2013– ) and a crime thriller based on the life of Pablo Escobar wherein forty percent of the dialogue is spoken in Spanish (Narcos, 2015– ). Part of what gives Netflix the confidence to take such risks is the difference in business model. They do not depend on commercial sponsors to keep business afloat; their money comes from subscribers.
“While it might be inconceivable for an old-style network to green-light a series that appeals to 0.5% of its viewers, for Netflix, if that series is the reason that 0.5% choose to subscribe, that is enough to justify it.” (Gans, 2017)
It is not just a matter of hiring filmmakers from diverse backgrounds. Once a show is greenlit, there is very little intervention from the executives. The creatives are often given much freedom (Boboltz & Williams, 2016). Whether this approach is as an intended push towards a change in culture or if it is merely a by-product of a desire to reach the global audience to maximize profits, Netflix has gained a reputation for having a more diverse selection of stories (Viruet, 2017). Among this selection is Master of None, which at the time of Yang’s speech has been considered fresh and original. This paper has been written to prove just why that is the case.
CHAPTER TWO: THE RISE OF RACE
Before tackling the topic of interracial romance, it is important to first take a step back and discuss its root – the idea of race.
Laws and labels
Soon after Master of None came out, series co-creator Aziz Ansari penned a piece for the
New York Times. In it, he discussed the struggles of minority actors to break into film and
television. He laments how Asian characters are often reduced to supporting characters serving as comic relief with their funny accents. He points out the apparent lack of representation, specifically in the romance genre:
When we were looking for an Asian actor for “Master of None,” my fellow creator, Alan Yang, asked me: “How many times have you seen an Asian guy kiss someone in TV or film?” After a long hard think, we came up with two: Steven Yeun on “The Walking Dead” and Daniel Dae Kim on “Lost”. It made me realize how important it was not to give up on our search. (2015)
Aside from the astute – albeit unfortunate – observation, what is telling about this quote is how he used the term Asian actor. After all, that lead role he and Yang were referring to ultimately went to Ansari himself, who is of Asian Indian origins. In the quote, he did not distinguish himself as an Indian actor, but instead places himself under the umbrella of Asian. Co-creator Alan Yang echoes this when he tells The Hollywood Reporter about how they were “blown away by the reaction of the Asian community, Indian community, [and] all sorts of people.” (2018) Just as Ansari puts himself under the Asian label, the effect resonates beyond just Indian, but to the more general Asian audience.
What does is it mean for Ansari, whose parents immigrated from Tamil Nadu to South Carolina, to simply refer to himself as Asian? How is it that this term is used to refer to individuals from countries like China, Japan, India, Korea, the Philippines, and Vietnam despite the vast differences in culture, language, and writing? If Asia is a collection of different nations, how is it that in discussions of representation, authors often simply refer to the Asian racial identity?
As a starting point, it is worth looking at a procedure that has been instrumental in the labeling of races: the national census. In the United Sates, where Master of None is set, the options are Black, White, Asian, Latino/a, Native American, and Other. (Lee & Tafoya, 2006) The criteria for categorization not only varied between governments, but also through time. For instance, in Brazil, a person’s complexion is more of a factor, which can result in siblings being put into two different labels depending on how black or brown they are (Nobles, 2000) In the early 19th century, both the U.S. and Canada considered ancestral language to distinguish between groups (Shanahan, 2014). In observing these variances throughout history and between nations, it is not enough to
simply note the malleability of the concept of race; the reasons behind its different interpretations must also be explored. Particularly, in the U.S., a review of its immigration policies shows how its method of taxonomy was based not on any real science, but instead was a series of reactions to an increasingly colorful (i.e. non-white) population. In the words of Lee and Tafoya, “racial statistics functioned to maintain a social order and policies that excluded non-white groups from civil and political rights.” (2006)
In 1882, the Chinese Exclusion Act was enacted, prohibiting all Chinese immigrants from gaining citizenship. While the Japanese initially forged their path to naturalization by distinguished themselves as a separate people, in 1906, the law was amended to strip them of their rights as well. (Lee & Tafoya, 2006)
Apparently, declaring these groups inassimilable was not enough; federal governments soon followed up with laws banning marriage between whites and non-whites. These were especially common in western states where most Asian populations had settled. (Moran, 2001) With each new wave of immigrants, the state kept expanding their terms. Upon the arrival of Filipinos, despite their insistence on their right to marry, many statutes were amended to include those of “Malay or brown race.” (Pido, 2016; Volp, 1999) As for Asian Indians, they suffered the same fate:
“Unlike the Chinese and Japanese, Asian Indians were treated as Caucasian under prevailing scientific taxonomy. Even so, U.S. attorney general refused to find that Asian Indians qualified as “free white persons.”” (Moran, 2001)
This sort of flexibility demonstrates a lack of solid foundation. The inconsistency undermines any attempt to justify the decisions as “science-based.” These were not done objectively; all of these policies were put in place to disqualify colored minorities from attaining the same privilege as whites. Since they were unable to gain citizenship, own property, and marry, these people (all lumped together under the ‘Asian’ label) were deemed as inferior and undesirable. For males in particular, these laws gave them a diminished status as potential mates. It is this image that is crucial for this paper – the emasculated Asian male. It is a burden that has been carried by the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Filipinos, and Indians in the U.S. This is the narrative that Ansari and Yang aimed to shift through the character of Dev in Master of None.
Decades after laws against Asian assimilation and interracial marriage were abolished, racial categories as well as their respective perceptions still persisted. In perpetuating ideas about the Asian population, media did play its part. On film and television, the emasculated Asian male had been translated into the stereotype of the non-threatening male. He has no desire, let alone a real shot, at getting the girl. Like the trope of “always a bridesmaid, never a bride, the Asian male is always a sidekick, never a lead. (Sun et al., 2015) His most positive qualities have nothing to do with sexual prowess or masculine
confidence. Instead, his best skills likely involve proficiency in math and/or science. (Chao, 2013)
Concerning Indian Americans, Amit Gupta observes the stereotypes that have remained intact even in the 21st century. He notes how in the relatively recent television series Big
Bang Theory, the Indian character of Raj is depicted as awkward around women,
perpetually unable to attain the same ideal romance as his white counterparts. He also mentions Apu from The Simpsons (1989– ) who is a mere caricature with a ridiculous – and inaccurate (Melamedoff, 2017) – accent. At the end of his paper, Gupta looks to the future and says:
“The new America market forces rather than racial and ethnic affiliations will determine whether an Indian-American can be the star of a show and aspiring actors from the community will not have to depend on ethnic humor to get that status… If a young Indian-American male is able to come up with an imaginative show that can bridge the different markets that attract advertisers then we shall see the first Indian-American male action star.” (2016)
While Aziz Ansari may not be an action star, he is a writer and lead actor in a show featuring an Indian-American who does not have to depend on ethnic humor to engage the audience. Through his show, he has given the television landscape a long-awaited alternative to half-baked ethnic characterizations. Change has come for Indians and for everyone else who has been placed under the Asian banner.
Media minorities
Whichever taxonomy Ansari chooses to identify with, he is right in observing the lack of representation in media. From the early days of Hollywood, Asians have largely remained invisible. Even when the role required someone of Chinese or Japanese descent, filmmakers would cast a white actor and paint him or her in yellowface. In 1956, the film
The Conqueror featured Genghis Kahn as portrayed by John Wayne, a man most known
for his lead roles in cowboy flicks. In that same year, Marlon Brando played a man named Sakini and put on a “Japanese” accent for the film The Teahouse of the August Moon. For this performance, he even received a Golden Globe nomination.
Initially these choices could be attributed to a lack of available Asian actors, but such was not the case with the 1937 adaptation of The Good Earth. Chinese-American star Anna May Wong was in the running for the lead role, but was thwarted by what was then known as the Hays Code. This was a set of rules that what was allowed and not allowed to be shown in feature films. One of the statutes, aligning with the era’s anti-miscegenation laws, forbade the depiction of romantic relations between whites and non-whites. In the case of The Good Earth, since Jewish-American actor Paul Muni was chosen as the male lead, Wong was passed over and instead, the role went to German-American Luise Rainer. As a white woman playing a Chinese farmer’s wife, she ended up winning the best actress Oscar that year. (Sun, 2016)
Just like the anti-miscegenation laws, the Hays Code was eventually scrapped as well. With fewer limits for what can be filmed and more minorities available for filming, it would be reasonable to expect a significant shift in Asian representation. Maybe Hollywood would cast actual Asian actors instead of white actors in culturally insensitive makeup. Unfortunately, reality tells a different story. Four whole decades after The Good
Earth, the sci-fi comedy film Short Circuit (1986) and its sequel Short Circuit 2 (1988)
featured Fisher Stevens, a white actor, played an Indian character named Ben Jabituya (renamed “Ben Jahvri” in the sequel for unknown reasons.) This specific case was in the
Master of None episode “Indians On TV” (2015):
Over coffee, Dev and Ravi discuss the kinds of roles they usually audition for. Both of them have often been relegated to bit characters who are either scientists or cab drivers.
DEV: Well, at least they’re actually getting Indian actors to do those roles now instead of going the Short Circuit 2 route.
RAVI, CONFUSED: What’s wrong with Short Circuit 2?
DEV, DUMBFOUNDED: They got a white guy to play an Indian guy?
RAVI, EVEN MORE CONFUSED: The robot movie? With Johnny 5?
DEV: Wait, you don’t know this? Dude!
Dev then pulls out his iPhone and does a quick Google Image search. He shows a film still with Johnny 5 and the Ben Jahvri character.
DEV: That guy’s a white guy.
RAVI: The robot or the Indian?
DEV: The Indian guy is a white guy! That’s Fisher Stevens. They used brownface makeup.
RAVI: Wait, what!?
DEV: Yeah! They used a real robot and a fake Indian.
Ravi, sinking into his chair: I’m sorry, man. I’m just experiencing a lot of emotions right now. That’s like one of my favorite Indian actors.
DEV: Dude, it still happens. Did you see The Social Network? Max Minghella plays an Indian guy. He’s white! They browned him up!
DEV: Who cares? If you go back far enough, we’re all one-sixteenth something. I’m probably one-sixteenth black. You think they’re gonna let me play Blade!?
In his last line, Dev’s joke is reminiscent of the one-drop rule (Shanahan, 2014), except in this inversion, instead of using ancestry to disqualify minorities from certain rights, it qualifies whites for certain roles. Sometimes, however, genealogy is disregarded completely. Recent incidents of whitewashing such as those of Scarlett Johansson in Ghost
In The Shell (2017) and Emma Stone in Aloha (2015) incensed communities. Why was it
that even in this current decade, white actors were playing characters of Asian origin? How is it that in a report done in 2016, it was found that more than among all the films and television shows they analyzed, about half featured no Asian speaking roles? (Smith, 2016)
Aside from a lack of representation, Asian actors in television have also had to cope with
misrepresentation. Even though CBS proudly touted the increased diversity of the
network’s lineup, critics lambasted their show 2 Broke Girls (2011–2017) for its persistent use of stereotypes (Hibberd, 2016). Much of the outrage centered on the character of Han, a Korean with an exaggerated accent. Aligning with other common assumptions about Asians (Sun, 2015; Gupta, 2016), he is asexual and highly industrious. Throughout the series, his main purpose is to be the target of jokes, most of which refer to his broken English. While this is supposedly an improvement from their exclusion in the 90’s and early 21st century, it falls short in that the characters are far from three-dimensional. Ultimately, the Asian community is given the unenviable choice “between racist stereotypes and invisibility.” (Weinman, 2012)
These issues have prevailed not just for Asians, but for other minorities as well. Blacks and Latinos, throughout the last fifty years, have also been subjected to their own stereotypical portrayals. On the other end of the spectrum of Asian males’ perceived asexuality, both male and female blacks have been shown as hypersexual. (Henderson, 2010) Latinos on screen are often undisciplined (Mastro & Greenberg, 2000; Gainer, 2010). On some shows, they also fall into hypersexual ideals, as demonstrated in the “Latin lover” fantasy (Tukachinksy, 2015). All of these descriptors fit into convenient character summaries made for the majority. They essentially function as shortcuts (Dyer, 1993) for a predominantly white audience who are less familiar with the nuances within the cultures of minorities.
Some may wonder why it matters that audiences see more minority actors playing fully fleshed out characters instead of tired tropes. After all, are these are not just movies and television shows? For those in doubt of the effects of media representation, research has proven that what we see on screen does influence how we see certain groups of people. As Catherine Squires put it, “Although [we judge] fictional figures, it is important to note that our evaluations of entertainment figures may influence our views of people in the real world.” (2014:137)
In communities where there is limited contact to people of color, their only exposure to black, Asian, or Latino culture might come in the form of what is seen on mass media. The television screen then acts as a window through which they can learn to understand groups of people they do not normally encounter. Edward Schiappa refers to this phenomenon as parasocial interaction. He goes on to assert that “If we can learn from televised characters representing social groups with whom we have minimal “real world” contact, then it is possible that parasocial interaction could influence attitudes about such groups in a manner consistent with the influence of live intergroup contact.” (2006) Though effects are not as pronounced as when an individual has direct contact, indirect contact – through a program like The Cosby Show (1984–1992), for instance – can still provide knowledge regarding connecting with a group outside one’s circle. (Lienemann & Stopp, 2013)
The breaking down of stereotypes is important for both whites and people of color. To the majority, seeing minorities on screen can dispel long held assumptions. To fellow minorities, it speaks to them about their potential. Regarding The Cosby Show, the Huxtables had served as a role model for ethnic minority viewers (Tukachinsky, 2017). Writing about her experience as a black news reporter, Gwen Ifill gives a personal account of finding the significance of minority representation: “To have young girls watching me and imagining that they can follow in my footsteps makes every tough day worthwhile.” (2005)
For the Asian community specifically, seeing an Asian leading man in a romantic comedy as high-profile as Master of None can shift ideals of attraction. Research, after all, has shown that audiences who are subjected to a lot of television are more likely to derive beauty standards from media. (Adams-Bass et al., 2014) In a series of interviews regarding Asian-American stereotypes, one subject was asked if she could name Asian celebrities she considered attractive. She responded, “I started looking at Asian men and I could never find an ideal—Bruce Lee was the standard.” (Sun, 2015) It is a sad state of affairs that her one example was a man who had been dead for over forty years.
This void must have been on Ansari’s mind when he talked about the casting process. For him to be involved in the creation in the first place is remarkable. The invisibility of Asians is a reality in front of, and behind, camera. Around the time Master of None premiered, an industry-wide survey showed that merely 13% of directors were non-white. (Smith, 2016) The fact that Yang and Ansari are anomalies in makes this study all the more significant. Since the dawn of the camera, majority of the stories have been told by white men. Even with the occasional non-white director, writer, or actor, white men still hold most positions of power. And even those that featured people of color, they were mostly made for minorities but almost never made by them. When media is made by the minority, there is a greater sensitivity to that minority’s needs and sensibilities and less of an attempt to mute aspects that might not sell to the majority. (Caspi & Elias, 2011) Here then lies the crucial difference. In an interview, Alan Yang explained:
“We just wanted to make a show that was about us. It wasn’t a political move; it wasn’t a statement. We just wanted to be like, Hey, let’s put our
lives into this show. Let’s put as much of ourselves in it as possible, and try to be truthful.” (The Hollywood Reporter, 2016)
Master of None may not have been an overt counterpoint to industry norms, but it does
give the audience a fresh alternative to the majority-driven mainstream. In Dev, we finally find a three-dimensional Indian character free from the shackles of stereotypes and forced vocal inflexions. On top of that, we also witness him pursuing – and successfully wooing – both white and non-white women. For those who have grown up on a steady stream of same-race romances and simplistic minority characters, the show offers an entertaining alternative.
Throughout this chapter, there has barely been any mention of interracial romance, which is supposed to be this paper’s main focus. However, that very topic cannot be effectively explored without first exploring the history of race as defined by U.S. law and shown by media. We cannot, for instance, even begin to explore why Asian male-white female romance is so rare on film and television without the discussing the problems of desirability, which are rooted in stereotypes. The formation and application of these stereotypes then cannot be fully understood without first studying the policies imposed on immigrants.
Now, having gone through the roots of race, at least within the scope of what applies to this paper, the foundation has been set for the analysis of Master of None. It is probably naïve (or at best, premature) to call the show revolutionary, but it does play a part in this decades-long process of change, one that has started from interracial romance’s criminalization now going towards normalization.
CHAPTER THREE: THE INTERRACIAL ISSUE
Policies and perceptions
Throughout the 20th century, along side the population, American laws around race, censorship, and media went through significant change. Laws like the Chinese Exclusion Act were scrapped. The Hays Code dissolved. Then in 1967, there were two landmarks in the history of interracial marriage in America: first, at the conclusion of Loving v.
Virginia, the U.S. Supreme court decreed anti-miscegenation laws unconstitutional.
Second, there was the premiere of the film Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, which marked the first depiction of a romantic relationship between a black man and a white woman. In one of the pivotal scenes, the woman’s father exclaims:
“Say they changed the law. That don’t change how people feel about this thing.”
While the he was right in that attitudes do not shift with the same immediacy as law, the approval rating for interracial marriage did rise, albeit gradually. Ten years before the late Spencer Tracey delivered his monologue, less than 10% of whites approved (Schuman et al., 1997). In 2004, however, this figure had shot up to 76% (Krysan, 2008). This rise is even faster than that of actual interracial marriage occurrence. Between 1960 and 2000, interracial marriages in the U.S. went from merely 0.4% to 2.4% (U.S. Bureau of the Census, 2000). Then in 2015, that figure rose to 17% (Bialik, 2017).
Interracial invisibility
As time passed in the United States, marriages across races became more common, and the populace has grown to accept this union. However, one would not be given this impression if he were to look purely at the media: A 2013 study showed that only 7% of television advertisements featured involved interracial romance. The low number may be factored to the very nature of advertising, which is to present the most normative image to its target audience (the white majority). After all, when a Cheerios commercial featuring a mixed-race family aired in June 2013, the company was met with a flurry of negative comments online (Stewart, 2013). The same logic of marketability also operates in Hollywood, as reflected by Ridley Scott’s comments regarding allegations of whitewashing his film about Egyptian gods:
“I can’t mount a film of this budget, where I have to rely on tax rebates in Spain, and say that my lead actor is Mohammad so-and-so from such-and-such… I’m just not going to get it financed. So the question doesn’t even come up.” (Foundas, 2014)
In the realm of television series, before the 1990’s, interracial couples were rarely seen on screen, let alone among the lead roles (Bramlett-Solomon, 2006).
For decades, despite increasing frequency in society, interracial romance remained an unusual sight in film and television. They were so rare that just the mere fact that a man
and a woman are of two different ethnicities was enough to serve as a story’s plot point. Take the following movie loglines:
“Friends and family of a married black architect react in different ways to his affair with an Italian secretary.” (Jungle Fever, 1991)
“A young black woman discovers that her father was a sperm donor, and if that weren't bad enough, he's white.” (Made in America, 1993)
“A young woman, Theresa, brings her boyfriend, Simon, home to meet her parents and surprise them with the news of their engagement. Another surprise: Simon is white.” (Guess Who, 2005) This movie was a play on the 1967 in which the race roles had been switched.
Even when the issue interracial romance is not on the forefront, the issue can serve as a point of conflict between characters. For instance, in the film Dragon: The Bruce Lee
Story, Linda’s mother tries to dissuade the young Asian-white couple from having
children: “Do you really want to have yellow babies? Can you imagine that? Yellow babies?”
Bearing in mind how media helps shape the audience’s perception of minorities, then it would be worth asking how these stories affect their idea of interracial romance. It is possible that these films may communicate the idea that involvement with someone of a different race always comes with its own emotional baggage. Even if in the end, the couple is triumphant, choosing their love over their communities’ expectations, viewers may learn to associate interracial relationships with such hurdles, and would then feel it would be more convenient to remain within their own circles.
Most plots can be broken down in simple terms: The protagonist wants something, but there are obstacles in his way. For the rest of the story, the character tries to overcome these obstacles until he reaches his goal (Truby, 2008). In a romance film, the goal is to find lasting love, often represented by a kiss, a proposal, or a marriage. Perhaps what is in the way of that romance is that the man is too occupied with his job, or maybe it is a matter of the woman still trying to form her views on commitment. These sorts of conflicts and character arcs were not made available in interracial romance films, as the issue stops at the gates of racial difference. The journey has more to do with someone (or someone’s family) have to over come the other’s black-ness or white-ness or Asian-ness.
Equal but not oblivious
While the show does not focus on racial issues, that does not mean it is ignored entirely. It would be easy to assert that the acceptance of the interracial relationship is due to Ansari minimizing his Indian identity. After all, he does not have the accent usually associated with Indian characters. In fact, having been born in South Carolina, he speaks with a slight twang. As much as he has assimilated to American culture, he does not, at all, distance himself from his roots. In episodes like “Parents” (2015) or “Religion”
(2017), audiences are shown vivid glimpses of his heritage, with the former focusing on his parents’ move to America and the latter with his Islamic upbringing.
Throughout the series, Dev as well as other characters occasionally refer to “brown-ness” or “Indian-ness.” In the second season’s first episode, set months after he and Rachel break up, Dev is in Modena, Italy celebrating his birthday. While waiting for his table at an exclusive restaurant, he asks a black British woman if she would like to accompany him. He jokes, “It’ll be the same as if you were eating here anyway. Only now both minorities will be sitting at the same table.” This makes her laugh and convinces her to say yes (“The Thief”, 2017). In another episode, in the middle of a tryst with a married white woman, the white husband walks in on them. Furious, he shouts, “You’re cheating on me with a little Indian guy?” Dev protests, “You didn’t have to bring up my ethnicity
or my size!” (“The Other Man”, 2015)
Ansari does not stop at mere awareness of his heritage; he also proudly bears his cultural background. In doing so, Master of None deals with the issue of race with a color-conscious, rather than colorblind, approach (Smith, 2013). This matters because if this show were to change people’s perceptions of Indians or interracial relationships, it is only effective if they can see Dev’s “other-ness.” Thomas F. Pettigrew explains it as such:
“When group saliency is low, the situation is interpersonal and no intergroup effects should result. Only when the interactants view one another as group representatives does the contact become an intergroup event. Research that supports this salient categorization strategy shows stereotype change generalizes best to the intergroup level when the individuals involved are typical group members. As typical members, their group memberships were more salient.” (1998)
In other words, before Master of None can counteract previously established stereotypes (and by extension, opinions regarding a relationship between a white woman and an Indian man), they must first see Dev as Indian.
By finding a middle ground in which race is neither disregarded nor dwelled on, Master of
None is able to treat interracial romance as a normal occurrence rather than an anomaly
whilst simultaneously upending previously held notions.
Anticipated reactions
In the aforementioned titles, there is this underlying tension in how friends and family would accept the couple. Especially in Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, as John and Joey make their way from the airport to Joey’s parents’ house, the audience anticipates how each character would react to the pairing of a beautiful white woman and her black fiancé. Starting with the taxi driver staring wide-eyed at the rearview mirror, bewildered upon witnessing the young couple share a quick kiss. Then there’s the scene at the art gallery where Joey’s mother’s colleague stares at them with as much puzzlement as a patron trying to decipher an abstract painting. Once they arrive at the house, the black
helper is incensed, but instead of letting her rage boil underneath her pleasantries, he erupts and scolds John for being a black man who refuses to stay within his lane.
Through this triptych of interactions, the director has primed the audience to anticipate the parents’ reaction. Joey may be too naïve to worry, but John – as well as the audience – are all too familiar with society, and based on that, the feeling of deep-seated dread. As Joey’s mother arrives, meets John, and takes her time to assess the situation, the audience is at the edge of their seats, almost as if they were watching a horror flick.
This sort of tension is not lost on Ansari and Yang. In the Master of None episode, “Old People” (2015), the show takes on the meet-the-white-parents scenario. Instead of an introduction to in-laws, however, Rachel invites Dev to meet her grandmother out in the Bronx. Before heading out, Dev asks, “Is she one of those racist grandmas that’s gonna be weird with someone with my skin tone?” Rachel responds, “I don’t know. It could be a fun gamble though!” Compared to the slow build seen in Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, Dev immediately brings up race. There is no beating around the bush. What is markedly different is that they discuss this with humor. However, while anxiety may be absent in this scene, it does rear its head in the next one:
Upon arriving at Grandma Carol’s place, Rachel introduces Dev. CAROL: “Ah, just a friend. Nothing romantic here?”
RACHEL: “Yeah, we’re seeing each other.”
CAROL: “That’s great. You seem very nice.”
Rather than building through people’s non-verbal reactions, tension is found in the way Grandma Carol (Lynn Cohen) delivers her lines. When she asked if there was nothing romantic between Rachel and Dev, she emphasizes the word romantic. She did as a means of clarification in the same way that a customer would clarify with a waiter that a certain menu item does not have peanuts or seafood. Then when she says he seems very
nice, it almost comes off as slightly sardonic, like a child who must say something good
about being given socks for his birthday. Without context, the line and the delivery might come off as innocuous, but because of the history of interracial couples in media, the audience would wonder if there might be some charged subtext.
Even though the weighted words may rouse suspicions of Grandma Carol’s possible racism, the banter between the two is done with levity and humor instead of contempt and caution. The threat comes off as rather harmless. Thus, Dev can easily address the issue instead of skirting around it:
DEV: “Aw, thank you. I’ll admit, some of my friends have racist grandmas.”
In a joking manner, Grandma Carol responds to Dev’s indirect accusation of racism with a more direct confrontation of his age-related expectations.
Rachel scoffs. Dev is bemused. He concedes. DEV: “Now the tables have turned. I’m sorry.”
Indeed, the tables did turn. At the end, Dev is the one at fault for playing into his assumptions about old people. Through this scene, Master of None goes from a confrontation of race to a lesson in presumption in general. It points out how interracial media has created stereotypes that go both ways and that these modes of judgment are outdated. Rachel’s scoff may represent the side of the audience wondering, “In this age, is this seriously still an issue?”
This dynamic is not unique to Dev and Rachel’s relationship. Before the two started dating exclusively, Dev had a brief tryst with an intelligent, successful, beautiful food critic named Nina. Like Rachel, Nina is white. (“The Other Man”, 2015) When they meet at the bar, they find an immediate point of connection in discussing their favorite restaurants. Later on, they smoke marijuana outside, then kiss, and finally she invites him to her high-rise apartment. Throughout the night, not once does he or she ever bring up race. Instead, what keeps them from having sex is the revelation that Nina is actually married. Eventually, however, after discovering that the husband is quite a terrible person who pollutes the environment and has little regard for other people, Dev accepts Nina’s invitation to her bed.
At the climax of the episode, Nina’s husband comes home earlier than expected. He then discovers Dev, in his boxers hiding in his closet. In this moment, the race issue is brought up. Outraged, the husband uses it as a way of demeaning Dev.
NINA: “This is the guy I’m sleeping with. I slept with this guy!”
MARK: “You’re cheating on me with this little Indian guy!?”
DEV: “You didn’t have to bring up my ethnicity or my size!”
It as if the offense of infidelity is magnified due to Dev’s race. By referring to Dev as a “little Indian guy,” Mark harkens back to the decades in which Indians (and Asians in general) are seen as outsiders, characterized solely by stereotypes regarding their masculinity, or lack thereof. Dev’s response then points out how such derogatory references to race are out of place in this present age. Through this explosive – though still hilarious – exchange, Master of None makes its point. Despite how much progress has been made regarding race, it is still prevalent enough to be brought up as a means of causing derision. There may be healing, but the scars are still visible.
Novelty gives way to nuance
By setting up expectations and then going against them, the writers behind Master of
None shows that they are conscious of the conventions regarding race and interracial
relations, and that they are presenting an alternative approach. By choosing not to treat the relationship as a novelty, it allows room for nuance. This is not to say the tension does not exist; 16% of whites still strongly disapprove of interracial marriage (Herman & Campbell, 2011). But in the context of the show, especially in an ethnically diverse place like New York, relations between whites and non-whites are no longer so rare that any story about them must focus on the racial divide. (Farrell & Lee, 2016)
Instead of devoting so much time to the race issue, Dev and Rachel are shown dealing with the same conflicts as what same-race couples in other shows would normally tackle. As a point of comparison, in Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, the only conflicts are those related to race. For instance, Tillie the helper says, “I don’t care to see a member of my own race getting above myself.” When Mrs. Drayton meets John, she is speechless for a moment. Joey says, “He thinks you're gonna faint because he's a Negro.” Finally, in Mr. Drayton’s monologue, he says, “Anybody could make a case, a hell of a good case, against your getting married. The arguments are so obvious that nobody has to make them. But you're two wonderful people who happened to fall in love and happened to have a pigmentation problem.”
As a couple, Joey and John never argue outside of this issue of meeting their parents. Even when Joey invited John’s parents over, despite his insistence on giving it time, he barely raises his voice. It gives the impression that if the two were both white or both black, then their relationship would perfect. It is as if they must strive for such high standards to make all the trouble worth it, and only a truly exceptional love story can transcend the matters of law and societal attitudes. Master of None, on the other hand, lets the interracial couple show the flaws in their bond. This is the most apparent in the episode “Mornings” (2015), which focuses on how the couple has to learn to compromise after Rachel moves into Dev’s apartment. In their first morning together, the two of them are in the bathroom, getting ready to start the day.
Upbeat rock and roll music (reminiscent of The Beach Boys) plays in the background. Dev is in the middle of brushing his teeth. Rachel enters frame, grabs the toothpaste and squeezes some onto her toothbrush. Dev stops and yells. DEV: “Hey! What are you doing!?”
RACHEL: “Wait, what?”
DEV: “You squeeze it from the top?”
DEV: “You got to squeeze from the bottom. That’s so wasteful!”
RACHEL: “No, I just squeeze from the top, and when it doesn’t come out anymore, I throw it away.”
Dev, with a big goofy smile on his face, then playfully demonstrates his tube-squeezing technique.
From the get-go, this episode shows the small disagreements that accompany relationships and especially ones in which the couple cohabitate. From the beginning, the music gives the impression that this is the start of a happy montage of a couple moving in together. In a way, it is. There are indeed plenty of sweet moments – eating cereal together, kissing before leaving for work, and Dev opening Rachel’s housewarming gift. These vignettes, however, are balanced out by very real situations such as the toothpaste predicament. Two months into their new living situation, Dev talks to Rachel about her an issue that has been gnawing at him. This time, it is less friendly and more pointed.
DEV: “Hey Rachel. You know we have hardwood floors? I just got a glimpse of it
through all your clothes down there.” Rachel sighs.
RACHEL: “Okay, I’ll clean it up later.”
Dev starts picking up some of the clothes.
DEV: “It’s alright. I’m usually the clean person in a relationship anyway.”
Rachel looks up and directs her full attention at Dev.
RACHEL: “Um… Are you implying that I’m the dirty one in this relationship?”
DEV: “I mean, if we gotta pick, clearly, I’m the clean boo. You’re the dirty boo.”
RACHEL, INCREASINGLY ANGRY: “Oh, okay. Well, clean boo, you left all the glasses and spilled Campari on the kitchen counter. Is that a new clean boo move I don’t understand?”
DEV: “That’s in the kitchen. Things spill every now and then. I’ll clean it up later. I’m just saying, I feel like you should be respectful of my place if you’re gonna live here, you know, and clean.”
Rachel looks up at Dev, mouth agape. She is seething.
RACHEL: “Your place? I’m living in your place? I’m sorry; I didn’t know I was staying in your place. I thought this was our apartment. I thought I was living here and we were living here together.”
Compared to the Dev correcting Rachel’s way of squeezing out toothpaste, this argument involves flared tempers. Even though they did eventually resolve this, the tension is palpable. It is not played off as lighthearted exchange about couple’s little squabbles. This time, they are addressing an issue – their differing standards of tidiness – and the discussion itself is far from clean. By starting off with a snide comment, even if he may think it is a joke, Dev is already on the offensive, which prompts Rachel’s defenses. Her slight sigh turns into bubbling anger when Dev declares himself as the clean person in the relationship. She feels personally slighted. In response, she points out where he himself has fallen short of his standards. When he tries to explain, he digs himself deeper into a hole. She the picks apart his statements, locking in on his choice of words, and illustrates how self-righteous he comes off in the conversation.
This is not a mere negotiation of terms; it is a real argument. They are not just expressing their sides; they are sniping at each other. In this exchange, Rachel and Dev are a far cry form the portrait of near-perfection portrayed by John and Joey of Guess Who’s Coming To
Dinner. In Master of None, the interracial couple is not put on a pedestal. Instead, they are
human and flawed. They walk amongst everyone else, including same-race couples. This is important, as the writers do not idealize whites, Indians, or interracial romance. To have done so is what Rachel Moran defined as exceptionalism. It occurs when someone from a supposed “inferior” race stands out through extraordinary traits, bridge the gap, and then marry a white person (2001:114-116). After all, in the United States, minorities have had to be twice as good as their white counterparts to earn the same level of recognition (Cavounidis & Lang, 2015). Sydney Poitier’s John Prentice had to be a successful doctor who is highly regarded by the United Nations to counterbalance his status as a black man. Paling in comparison is Dev, who is a fledgling actor in New York whose biggest claim to fame is one Go-GURT commercial (“Plan B”, 2015) and a bit part in a science fiction B-movie. In the latter, he did not even make the final cut (“Finale”, 2015). While he has done well enough to afford a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, he is neither superior nor inferior to Rachel, who works as a music publicist for independent bands and artists. The two of them are portrayed as social and economical equals. By not having to deal with power dynamics and letting the characters tackle more trivial matters, it offers a more three-dimensional and realistic depiction of an interracial couple.
To put it simply, I would compare progress to that of transportation. When air travel was first established, the only goal was to get from Point A to Point B in one piece. Once the mechanics have been perfected and it was normal to expect that a plane that takes off will land in its destination, then the focus shifted to the details. Passengers who board planes no longer wonder if they will make it to the other end; their questions revolve more around the types of movies they might have on board or whether not the plane will have Wi-Fi. In the United States, interracial relationships have become so commonplace that stories featuring an interracial couple should not have the question of, “Can their love overcome their race?” be the main selling point. In Master of None, viewers can move past that. Instead, the episodes answer questions such as, “Can Dev and Rachel live together
despite their different approaches to dirty laundry?” By bypassing the race issue and moving onto matters that are more nuanced and universal, Master of None communicates that interracial romance is as normal as same-race romance.
CHAPTER FOUR: INTIMATE MATTERS
Affection avoided
When it comes to sex in mass media, Hollywood has come a long way since the days of Lucy and Ricky sleeping in separate twin beds (I Love Lucy, 1951–1957). Over the last half century, as censorship laws loosened and creators have become bolder, sexual content has proliferated both on film and television. It is also not just the amount, but also the portrayal. Kisses have gone from quick pecks on the lips to extended exchanges of tongue tangling (Gulliver, 2016). Before, simply showing a woman in her underwear was enough to cause an outrage (Psycho, 1960). Today, full nudity can be found even in supposed “family-friendly” primetime TV shows (Parents Television Council, 2013).
Sex has become increasingly difficult to escape. Now, as screens display more breasts, bottoms, and bedroom activities, concerns have been raised. Parents have been up in arms, echoing the words of Helen Lovejoy of The Simpsons: “Won’t somebody please think about the children?” And somebody has. Stacks of studies have been conducted regarding the effects of exposure to sexual content, particularly on adolescents. Most of the research has been built off of social cognitive theory (Bandura, 1986), which purports that television can serve as a means for individuals to observe social behavior. More than a source of entertainment, this screen is a window through which the people find role models for how to act. Most importantly, television can play a major role in dictating what they believe to be the norm. According to Amy Bleakley, the exposure to sexual content in media “has the largest correlation with perceived normative pressure” (2011). What they see in their favorite shows can shape how much they think their friends are having friends and how normally it is to do it themselves. Beyond that, it also informs them of the positive and negative consequences of sexual encounters (Finnerty-Myers, 2011). There is a definite between seeing sexual content on television and the formation of one’s sexual attitudes. Subjects who have had greater exposure were quicker to recall concepts in their implicit memory (Carpentier, 2018). In another study, it can also increase sexual self-efficacy. In simple terms, seeing more sex on television can give a viewer more confidence in fulfilling those sexual acts (Collins, 2005).
Mass media has the power to shape viewers’ ideas for what is common, what is normal, and what is acceptable. What then does it mean when this media avoids or omits certain acts, specifically interracial sex?
In Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, despite its progressive message of accepting love across racial borders, it is apparent that the filmmakers still tread lightly around the idea of physical affection between the black man and his white fiancé. Throughout the film, the couple’s physical affection was minimal. As noted by Beltrán and Fojas, John and Joey only share one kiss (2008). It is found in the beginning of the film while the two are in a cab going from the airport. Preceded by the driver’s look of bemusement, the kiss is framed by the rearview mirror. The image of the couple is a mere fraction of the entire screen. His face obscures hers in such a way that the audience cannot see their lips
touching. If that were not enough, both faces are so underexposed that it would be difficult to confirm that it is even actress Katharine Houghton in the shot.
Beyond the minimization of displays of interracial intimacy, even the mere conversation about sex between a black man and white woman can elicit palpable tension. In one key scene, shortly after John has been introduced to Joey’s parents, Mrs. Drayton asks her daughter a delicate question about her relationship.
MRS.DRAYTON: “Joey, I wanna ask you something. How deeply are you and John…
in-in-invol– oh no, no. I have no right.”
She withdraws the question and continues ironing Joey’s shirt.
JOEY: “How deeply involved? Do you mean if we’ve been to bed together?”
At this moment, Mrs. Drayton freezes. Her teeth clench with dread. JOEY: “I don’t mind you asking me that. We haven’t!”
This answer puts Mrs. Drayton at ease and resumes her ironing.
JOEY: “He wouldn’t. I don’t think he could’ve been in much doubt about my feelings, but he just wouldn’t.”
Once again, Mrs. Drayton is stunned. She is speechless. Her eyes dart around. Her look is one of utter bafflement. She feigns a smile when Joey walks past her. JOEY: “You’re burning my shirt.”
Throughout this exchange, Mrs. Drayton is in the foreground. It is her face and her reactions that are in focus while Joey is unpacking her clothes in the background. Clearly this communicates that this is where the audience must pay attention. Her feelings reflect that of the audience at the time of the movie’s release. Her anxiety is not just her own, but society’s as well.
There are three beats crucial to this scene, carried out by actress Katherine Hepburn’s facial expressions. First, when she Joey skips the use of innuendo, explicitly stating being in bed together rather than hiding it under the word involved. At this mention, the prospect of Joey and John, a white woman and a black man, consummating their relationship becomes a real possibility and stated explicitly through the dialogue. Mrs. Drayton holds her breath, as if waiting for a doctor to giving a life-altering medical diagnosis. As much as she has been the more accepting parent in this film, it is still a huge emotional hurdle for her to fathom the physical side of this interracial romance. Once Joey assures her that they in fact have not slept together, the change in emotion is clear. Mrs. Drayton snaps out of her daze and continues her task. However, once Joey punctuates her answer with “he wouldn’t,” this comes off as even more shocking. Mrs. Drayton is so taken aback by this that she does not even notice that the iron has starting
burning her daughter’s shirt. Her response to this bit of information carries the weight of the idea – and fear – of the dangerous, hypersexual black man. Something does not add up in Mrs. Drayton’s head. It is the subversion of the long-held stereotype of a black man preying on the white damsel in distress (Henderson, 2010). Her relief comes out of the assurance that they have been able to, at least at this moment, preserve the white woman’s purity (Meszaros & Bazzaroni, 2014).
It may be tempting to tempting to dismiss this analysis by asserting that Guess Who’s
Coming To Dinner was merely a product of its time. Perhaps the exclusion of overt
displays of physical affection is not due to its interracial nature, but due to standards of decency at the time. However, it must be noted that in that same year, nominated for the Best Picture Oscar are the films The Graduate and Bonnie & Clyde. In the first film, one of the main plots is an affair between a 21-year-old and an older woman. During their first encounter, there is a brief shot of her naked breasts. Later on, there is a montage showcasing their frequent visits to hotels, which end with them in bed together. In
Bonnie & Clyde, the two are shown passionately locking lips, elevating to a point where
Bonnie moves towards Clyde’s pants, implying that she is about to perform oral sex, but she stops. In both of these films, the couples are all white. In terms of moral standing, John and Joey stand out by a mile. The two of them are engaged, in love, financially stable, and have even stated they are willing to wait before having sex. In comparison, Mrs. Robinson is having an affair with an unemployed recent graduate with vision for his life. Bonnie and Clyde are two outlaws on the run. The only reason why the couple Guess
Who Is Coming To Dinner is held to such a high standard of chastity is their difference in
skin color. While same-race couples are allowed brazen displays of physical affection, when it comes to interracial romance, sexuality is “kept at an arm’s length” (Angel, 2007). As crucial as it is to observe the effects of increased exposure, it is just as crucial as its inverse – the lack of exposure. This has been described by Tuchman as symbolic
annihilation (1978), this exclusion of certain groups outside of the majority implies that
these groups have lesser value. It is not just the absence of sexual displays between people of different races; it is its absence in proportion to the presence of implicit and explicit sexual displays between white men and white women. This severe disproportion gives the impression that the same-race relationships are more significant and acceptable than their interracial counterparts. To makes matters worse, even in the rare occasion of seeing in an interracial couple on screen, their displays of affection are kept to a bare minimum. Bearing in mind the research on sexual content’s hold on the formation of sexual attitudes, this omission also bears the message that sex across ethnicities is not the norm.
New scripts, same story
Even as interracial marriage and approval have increased across the United States (Bialik, 2017; Qian, 2005) Hollywood still treats it like a rarity. The same practice of omission is reiterated by the 21st century spin on John and Joey’s story, 2005’s Guess Who. Mirroring the exchange between Joey and her mother, Theresa is in her room having a private conversation with her sister.
KEISHA: “So what’s it like?”
THERESA: “What’s what like?”
KEISHA: “Being with a white guy!”
THERESA: “What’s the sex like?”
Keisha nods, bursting with excitement.
THERESA: “You know that thing they say about the size? Completely the opposite. They’re huge. Not only are their penises big, but they can sing!”
In this case, although it is addressed with eagerness as opposed to dread, interracial sex is still treated as an occurrence far outside the norm. Keisha’s reaction matches that of a child waiting to hear an uncle’s stories about his travels to far-off, exotic countries. “You
won’t believe what they eat over there!”
Another crucial aspect about this scene is the use of humor. It is not a very elaborate joke. Its whole premise centers on the supposed subversion of the idea that white men’s penises are smaller than those of black men. An additional layer of amusement is found in how these two sisters are so candid with the description of such private matters. Lastly, Keisha plays up her excitement and disbelief. The incongruity theory asserts that humor can form out of the appropriate combination of two elements that are normally disparate (Oring, 1992). In this case, it is the pairing of a younger sister’s enthusiasm with the older sister’s graphic description of her boyfriend’s genitals. On a deeper level, this is a callback to the
Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner scene. It takes a scene that was filled with anxiety and
tension, then uses that as a frame for a new one that is giddy excitement and slight shock. This is not the only way of understanding this scene, however. There is also the benign
violation hypothesis, which states “anything that is threatening to one’s sense of how the
world ought to be will be humorous, as long as the threatening situation also seems benign.” (McGraw & Warren, 2010) This is why Master of None’s Grandma Carol exchange discussed in the previous worked as it grazed the issues of race and prejudice. For Guess Who, the revelation violates the held conventions regarding penis size. It is considered harmless since it does not directly put anyone under a negative light. Although the screenwriters put this in as a joke and perhaps audience members might have laughed, the punch line is not quite so benign.
The harm lies in the assumption that black men’s penises are larger than those of white men. It is another stereotype that aligns with the hypersexual black man (Meszaros & Bazzaroni, 2014). Historically, this fascination with the well endowed black man is entangled with “the fear of black male sexuality; how it’s chasing your white wives, mothers and daughters; that the black penis can be a vengeful weapon.” (Morris, 2016) To center a whole scene on this joke – and to refer to it again in another scene later in the movie – reinforces the narrative.
