Category: Society & Culture

  • The Presentation of Selfie in Everyday Life

    I will get to that “weird” title in a bit, but two things triggered this post. The first is the number of people urging, well, other people, to watch “The Social Dilemma”. Quite amazing. Especially considering how much of this advice is on WhatsApp groups. All I’ll say is, well done Facebook. Not to mention the irony of watching it on Netflix, which as I tweeted, is quite a paragon of virtue when it comes to behavioural manipulation. The second is the connection to the “Occult of Personality” – something I posted a few weeks ago. While the second order consequences on an algorithmically driven landscape was worrying, I realised that celebrities and “leaders” getting professionals to manage their social media presence was only a second order consequence of how they behaved as people on social platforms.  I also realised that this was in essence an early stage of algorithms dictating humans. Because who’s really in control when you’re always “appearing” as opposed to being?

    That provides a good context to the title, which is a bit of a wordplay on an excellent book that was written many decades ago – The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. The author Erving Goffman uses the metaphor of a theatrical performance to explore the nuances and interplay that occur in practically every interaction we have. A deep analysis of “All the world’s a stage” and the “performances”  we give everyday to guide others’ impression of us. “Shelf worth’ on Zoom calls is a recent example. Goffman uses “backstage” as a space where we can be true to ourselves, and not be putting on an act. These days, thanks to the ubiquity of the mobile phone and social media, “backstage” is shrinking. And thus the title.

    Because we’re busy scrolling, and judging others and ourselves, and putting on a show. Leading to never-ending validation cycles that include feelings of inadequacy and envy. Once upon a time, there was happiness about something we did/experienced. As I wrote in Peak Abstraction, maybe, as we continue posturing, we will reach a stage when our signalling of happiness and its effect on others will become our measure of our own happiness. Or maybe it has already happened. Thanks to the highlight reels as presented on Facebook/Instagram/WhatsApp, things have escalated far beyond Keeping up with the Joneses. After all, with social media, everyone is a neighbour/friend, and as Gore Vidal famously said, “Every time a friend succeeds, I die a little.”

    Evolution has hardwired envy in us. In the early stages of human evolution, because we were competing for resources and mates, it was an important tool that ensured we adapted, survived, and passed the gene to the next generation. Has it changed a lot, if we look at dating, jobs, promotion etc? Probably not. But it depends on whether we consider these as necessary for survival, and whether we think of them as zero-sum “games”. Journeys inward are tough, but ultimately satisfying. Asking the self about happiness is one such. Understanding it, and being able to influence yourself would be quite an amazing feat in the age of influencers! Looking evolution in the eye, and overturning its effect is also a good way to show respect.

    (in context, a wonderful short film I discovered on, wait for it, social media!) 😉

  • Onam, OTT & Culture

    Until recently, I was a fan of Rajinikanth’s screen swag. It wasn’t just the recent releases that dampened my enthusiasm. When Kabali released, I was awed. Not just by the performance, but by what I then thought was statesmanship. That was when a Tamil colleague schooled me on contexts, including politics, that I had no clue about. Since then, though I haven’t stopped watching regional movies, I stop at an ” I liked/didn’t like it”.

    Onam reminded me of this. Or rather, it served as a trigger to write this. It began with the chatter around Malayalam films, thanks to OTT. Movies, I have believed, are a cultural phenomenon. On one hand, when someone who is not a Malayali talks up a movie, I am happy about the “cultural exchange”. When that develops into a misplaced sense of authority and expertise, it becomes irritating. When it goes into the level of actors apologising because idiots don’t get references, it becomes angst. Of course you have never heard of Pattanapravesham! You have to go 32 years back to know the damn context. “Can you please end subtitles?” Nuances, commentary, references are often lost in translation. But that’s a two-way street, and movies are a business. [Aside: This could be the next level of Amazon Prime’s X-Ray feature, or even an Alexa skill]

    Onam itself has been hijacked quite a bit by Insta influenza. In the real world, in non-Corona years, this means you hear “haath se khaana padega?”, if you’re waiting to pick up your sadya in a restaurant. Or, worse case, if you’re waiting for a table, all the best. The photoshoot takes time. But this is a relatively smaller threat. The larger one plays out on Twitter –  the politics of Vaman Jayanthi (h added for spite) vs Mahabali! With Malayalis participating instead of celebrating, with snide comments in Keralese. Ha! And all I want to do is wear my mundu, eat my sadya, drink alcohol, watch a movie and in general, have a nice day. That, I have realised, cannot co-exist with being present on social media on that day.

    Access to culture has become easy. You don’t need to learn Malayalam to watch a movie. You also don’t need a Malayali friend to eat a sadya. Both the language and the friend would have helped set context, and contributed to a deeper understanding. But who cares in the age of superficiality and instant gratification?

    I realise that a lot of this is just angst – at a couple of well kept secrets being commoditised, trivialised, and hijacked beyond redemption. I don’t really like labels, but at what point does this become cultural appropriation? Onam is only a few days. I am more worried about cinema. Because the presence of an observer changes what is created. With expanded audience comes more money. When products, and festivals start catering to new tastes, what becomes of the originals, and the audience they used to cater to?

    For now, vannonam, kandonam, thinnonam, pokkonam. Please.

    P.S. Self analysis: Is this how curmudgeons are born?

  • Incognito, ergo sum

    More than a year ago, in a post titled A plan to be, I wrote about how at different stages of life, one has the need to stand out, and the need to belong. Both driven by various combinations of happiness, self-image, and of course, the gene that just wants to get to the next generation. Though I didn’t really express it in the post, the “plan to be” had belonging as a large part of it. Exactly a year ago, I wrote The half of it, in which I took the thread further. I found “relevance” being rooted in “belonging”, and wondered whether we settle for that. At the cost of meaning. (more…)

  • Success measures

    Kaamyaab is a wonderful movie – the subject, the performances, the sensitive portrayals, not to mention the nostalgia of seeing familiar old faces. Sanjay Mishra, playing Sudheer, a side-actor who decides to come out of retirement after realising that he is only one short of acting in 500 films, does a fantastic job of bringing to life the minds and lives of struggling actors. But, to me, good movies make you think beyond the scope of their narrative, and this one was no different.

    Before Sudheer began his mission of a 500th movie appearance, his life has settled into routines, and I found it difficult to fathom whether he regretted his career choice. For instance, he describes himself and others like him as “aloo” actors who can be added to any film. But he is also chuffed when he is recognised by people. And then there’s the alcohol. Is this how Babulal Chandola (Sudheer is a screen name) imagined his twilight years?

    We’re surrounded by success stories, not just from the movie business, but other walks of life too. Success, as we commonly define it, takes hard work, and luck. It requires the tenacity and perseverance to break through what Randy Pausch calls the “brick walls”. Bahut hi bekaar shahar hai,” Isha Talwar says in the movie, “Rejection ki aadat dalwa deta hai.”

    Kaamyaab draws attention to the not-so-successful, and brought up the question to me, again. What really is success, kaamyaabi? Being true to yourself, becoming exactly what you set out to become, but having to deal with the consequences of your trade-offs? Or being malleable with your trade-offs such that many a time your own desires are secondary, but being melancholic about the roads not taken?

    In the larger canvas of history, individual successes are blips, even the very best of them. But that’s philosophical, and it’s inevitable that as your film roll nears its end, you will analyse your role. Something that came up in an earlier post – The half of it. One which took me to whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal (Hunter S. Thompson).  My take for the future was to float with the tide and seek small goals while at it.

    I now realise that the questions of “why” and “what” still need an answer. One framing I have used in this context is FML – fame, love, money. Not by design, but the irony of the more traditional definition is unmistakable. Meanwhile, at a certain stage, after one’s biggest adversary is self image and not others, the love for something is the obvious answer (at least to me). Despite that, the motivation is not easy. I could really relate to a tweet by Orange Book, “You are not talentless, you just fell in love with comfort.” There are also the “false securities” that SRK eloquently framed in his tweet. Not completely past it. Related to that is the notion that one has done enough (for even the self image) to take a breather. All challenges to overcome!

    It almost seems like the opposite of life is not always death, it could be a lifestyle too! But then again, that depends on how  one measure success – happiness or contentment? At one point, they seem to be opposites too!

  • Signals, Trade-offs, Outcomes, Perceptions

    In S2E6 of The Good Fight, which was our first go-to drama during the Corona lockdown, the focus is on Adrian Boseman (played superbly by Delroy Lindo ). Thanks to his appearance on a cable news show as a legal pundit, he becomes a viral sensation. They invite him back for a couple of shows and increasingly try to channel (pun unintended) his angst into a stereotype. In his third and final appearance on the show, Adrian rebels and lets it fly, causing the channel to let him go. The episode’s last scene has him looking in the mirror, without the greasepaint. I really liked this story arc. It’s almost as though, after he experiences viral fame, he sees it for what it is, and how he can’t play along, and gives the system the finger.

    Or maybe I am projecting. Not that I ever became a viral sensation, but my favourite phrase in this context has been “Popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige.” (Edward Norton, Birdman) Now that’s a very arguable point of view. In my defence, I don’t think of it in the scathing, condescending manner of the original quote. It’s a tempered, mellower, “I can’t bring myself to do this sh*t” perspective. (more…)