TV for Men?

From Menletter December 2007

By Tim Baehr

Yeah, there's Spike TV - a cable outlet specializing in booze, boobs, and video games. I haven't indulged. I probably missed their target demographic by, say, 40 years. But there are some other shows that I'd like to comment on.

Jon & Kate plus 8

Monday nights at 9 p.m. ET on The Learning Channel; older episodes on Discovery Health. See http://www.sixgosselins.com/JnK8.html.

Jon and Kate Gosselin first had twins, the result of fertility treatments. When they tried to add to their family, they had sextuplets. The show chronicles their life as a family. Jon is an information technology specialist. Kate, a former nurse, is a stay-at-home mom. The shows follow the Gosselins around as they take all eight kids to the dentist, to a theme park, to a restaurant, to a pumpkin patch, to a parade - anywhere a "normal" family might go. Aware of the inevitable media attention and danger of the family's becoming a kind of freak show, the Gosselin parents decided not to retreat into isolation. They have worked hard to provide as typical a family experience as possible, regardless of the logistical difficulties.

Each 30-minute episode consists of a cinema-verite-like account of some aspect of the family's life (the abovementioned outings, or packing and moving to a bigger house, or Kate's tummy-tuck surgery to repair the damage from carrying the sextuplets), interspersed with Jon and Kate sitting on a loveseat and talking to the camera.

I find a few aspects of the show compelling. The kids are reasonably well-behaved, at least on-camera, but they are LOUD. The overall impression is that of a daily 15-hour birthday party in one of the smallest rooms at Chuck E. Cheese. The only ones who don't yell and shout are Jon and Kate.

It's not as though Jon and Kate are always cheerful. They snap at each other as they communicate about the tasks that will get them through the day. And Kate makes droll asides about the kids to the off-screen crew. This led a psychologist friend of mine to fret that Kate is not a very nice person. But Kate and Jon are both short with each other. Moreover, Kate has explained that, in the heat of the moment - for instance, packing the van for a trip and herding the kids around without losing any - their communication is very curt and task-oriented. If they negotiated everything, or even made nice, the whole enterprise could fall apart.

In the couple's asides to the camera crew, and in their loveseat interviews, both Jon and Kate show a deadpan humor that bespeaks their deep love for the kids, and for each other.

The Gosselins have worked out a division of labor and a fairly regimented, but not rigid, way to get through each day and week. They have little outside help, and apparently not a lot of money. As bizarre as their family circumstances may seem, they could be a model of how a family might function both effectively and lovingly.

I admire Jon particularly because he combines his totally unreserved love for Kate and the kids with a self-contained, matter-of-fact, good-humored approach to living in near-total chaos. While some men might be overwhelmed by the essential neediness of children and Kate's occasionally sharp tongue, Jon never seems to evince any doubt about who he is. He gives as good as he gets, not only in the verbal sparring but in commitment and love.

Dirty Jobs

Tuesdays at 9 p.m. ET on The Discovery Channel; reruns often throughout the day. See http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/dirtyjobs/dirtyjobs.html; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirty_Jobs.

Mike Rowe is a TV guy who, since 2003, has been seeking out the dirtiest, messiest, most dangerous jobs and then serving as a (usually) able assistant - walking the talk, as it were. He has waded (and paddled a boat) in cow poop, hauled bags of garbage through apartment houses out to the waiting truck, worked on a lobster boat, picked through recyclables, made sausage, cleaned out septic tanks, and at almost uncountable other jobs. He begins each show with this blurb:

"My name is Mike Rowe, and this is my job: I explore the country looking for people who aren't afraid to get dirty - hard-working men and women who earn an honest living doing the kinds of jobs that make civilized life possible for the rest of us. Now... get ready, to get dirty."

I find the show immensely appealing, not because of the often-yucky subject matter, but because Mike, in his self-deprecating way, is game for anything. Also, he engages with the people who do the dirty work of our society with the utmost respect. The topics of most shows have a very high eeewww factor, but they're fascinating because we almost never get to see the things that go on beyond the surface of our cities and suburban neighborhoods.

There's one tiny bit of false advertising in Mike's intro, however, when he talks about the "men and women who earn an honest living. . . ." In all the episodes I've seen so far, there was exactly one woman in a dirty and dangerous job - a firefighter.

All the rest of the people "doing the kinds of jobs that make civilized life possible for the rest of us" were men.

Why do I even bother to point this out (or the fact that no women are protesting being excluded from the jobs)? Warren Farrell wrote at least five years ago about the "glass cellar" - the kinds of jobs Mike glorifies and which Farrell calls the "death professions." Of the 25 worst jobs listed in the Jobs Rated Almanac, 24 employ more than 85 percent men. And, according to Farrell, 93 percent of people killed at work are men. (See http://www.warrenfarrell.com/articles.php?id=9.)

Why indeed? I have never seen Farrell or anyone else lobbying to pass laws requiring that women take half the jobs in the death professions. And I'm not about to lead any protest marches. What we can do, especially those of us operating nothing more dangerous than a desk or a keyboard, is to be keenly aware of and appreciative of the men who make our lives so comparatively cushy. Regardless of why a man may have taken a Dirty Job - lack of other opportunities, a desire to feel heroic, or even because he loves it - he deserves nothing but our respect and admiration.

Boston Legal

Tuesdays at 10 p.m. ET on ABC. See http://abc.go.com/primetime/bostonlegal; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Legal.

My fondness for "Boston Legal," a comic drama about a law firm, has a couple of sources. The outdoor shots are of Boston, my former home town; the exterior of the law firm's office building is next door to where I once worked; the building's internal winter garden was the site of some great holiday parties. More than this bit of nostalgia, I like "Boston Legal" because of the interaction between two of the principal characters, Alan Shore (played by James Spader) and Denny Crane (played by William Shatner).

The two men are a study in contrasts. Alan is the younger man, a rebel with a conscience. At his best, he takes on apparently losing and usually liberal causes and, through legal expertise (sometimes a bit shady) and a silver tongue, brings judges and juries over to his side. At his worst, he is a passionate but feckless and insecure sex machine, has a clown phobia, and suffers night terrors. When he is not arguing cases, he can be quite cruel and blunt. It's evident he'll never make partner.

Denny is beyond normal retirement age, hanging desperately onto his partnership in the face of his decreasing relevance to the firm and his fear that he has Mad Cow disease. A total egotist, and amoral to boot, Denny brags about his past accomplishments both in the courtroom and in bed. If there is any outrageously non-politically correct or socially conservative line in the script, it comes out of his mouth. His former brilliance surfaces occasionally, but most of the time he comes across as a buffoon engaging in bizarre behavior based on twisted logic. The other partners sometimes have a hard time reining him in, and they often recruit Alan as a kind of baby-sitter, frequently with disastrous results.

As exasperating as these men can sometimes be to each other, they also truly love each other. The end of most episodes finds the two men on the balcony of their building, drinking Scotch, smoking cigars, rehashing the day, bantering, and sometimes bickering about their differences.

To all outward appearances, the two have almost nothing in common except their friendship, their love of the law, and a fundamental sense of fairness. Yet beneath the surface, there's a complex relationship that seems to be an amalgam of father-son, mentor-protégé, elder-youth. In a recent episode, they were both put in jail on a contempt charge. One of them wondered where their significant others were to bail them out. The other replied, but we are our significant others.

Denny, among his other negative charms, is a complete and unabashed homophobe. Yet the two men often have sleep-overs. This activity is played for comic effect in the scripts, but I find something quite moving in the easy intimacy they enjoy.

Alan and Denny have a most unusual, unconventional male relationship that is both funny and poignant. In its complexity it is also a model of what a complete friendship might look like.

So . . .

Here are three TV series that go beyond the typical sitcom, reality show, or cop show. Jon Gosselin, Mike Rowe, Alan Shore, and Denny Crane may not be very much like you and me, but I find them easier to identify with than most of the other guys we see on the tube.