I should begin by saying, I’ve never really been a fan.
She had moments and jokes, and I’m always in favor of people who advocate for gender and sexual preference equality, LGBTQ rights, etc.; however, I just never sought out more of her work.
So now she poses with the bloody mask of the 45th President, and there’s been a huge backlash, including her losing several jobs and opportunities, so I gotta weigh in: Was it comedy? Was it political commentary? Was it free speech? All/Some/None of the above? How does this impact comedy, comics and real-live people?
Reading through the response in the press, we can see a number of themes. Let’s begin with the writing of Noah Michelson of the Huffington Post, and we’ll spin off from there.
Crossing the line
Michelson notes,
You can’t stage a photo like Griffin’s without freaking people out. It’s grisly, gruesome, provocative and, sure, distasteful and even disrespectful. But that’s the point.
He goes on to compare it to the Naked Trump Statue and Trump/Putin Makeout Mural as images meant to shock, inspire and incite resistance; it “intend[s] to offend in order to highlight the offenses we’re experiencing.”
Michelson quotes Jim Carrey from an “Entertainment Tonight” interview:
I think it is the job of a comedian to cross the line at all times — because that line is not real…. If you step out into that spotlight and you’re doing the crazy things that [Trump] is doing, we’re the last line of defense. And, really, the comedians are the last voice of truth in this whole thing.
Carrey is not alone, Alec Baldwin has also spoke out on her behalf.
Crossing the line is how Griffin frames it in her early responses: as provocative art that “mocks” and draws attention to the violence of the administration, not one that condones violence towards the administration. Griffin has since offered a simple, heartfelt video-apology. “I sincerely apologize,” Griffin said.
I’m just now seeing the reaction to these images. I’m a comic. I crossed the line. I moved the line, then I crossed it. I went way too far.
This idea of humor operating as an attack on boundaries to question the system is fairly common; it’s the basis of the Relief theory. But rather than just violating a taboo, it might be the first step toward a political action [as I’ve argued elsewhere].
Lenny Bruce said, “If you can’t say ‘fuck,’ you can’t say ‘fuck the government.'” Superiority theory holds that when humor – even base humor – is used to attack the status quo it is a force for change – though not always to our benefit, as may be the case here. Hell, many people said that about Bruce. We should note that ridicule can also work down the power hierarchy, enforcing the status quo by attacking those on the boundary. Also, hyperbolic violations of the status quo can ironically reinforce it, as may also be the case here.
Speaking Truth to Power
Another point embedded in this discussion is the idea that comics speak truth to power, especially when they are “the last voice of truth.” This is the idea that the guise of a comic and the particular space that it provides gives license to say things that the rest of us cannot. This is also an overly glowing view of comedy, as it is rarely used and frequently abused to ridicule the oppressed.
We all have the ability and responsibility to speak truth to power. Comics are objectively neither specially privileged, nor receive special dispensation, as Griffin’s case (and every other that has come before) adequately displays – unless we defend their actions. The space of humor is neither guaranteed nor safe, it is constantly under assault and requires constant defense by people who find such a space useful. And this can be difficult, as truths are plural and situational.
Michelson calls out supposed free speech advocates for not supporting her, and liberals and progressives for attacking her and I have seen countless images on Facebook and Twitter, displaying the way one side reacted to the Anti-Obama hate and comparing it to how the same group reacted to the 45-hate, when it’s objectively the same argument. One side feels (rightly or wrongly) that the other guy will destroy their way of life, and speaks out to “incite resistance,” and when the other side does/has done the same, they decry it as inciting violence.
Yes, it’s problematic that the Anti-Obama hate took the form of traditionally racist imagery and “metaphors,” and yes, few (if any) of them claimed to be “just kidding,” but the tu quoque (“you also”) fallacy applies to the basic behaviors of both sides.
Art teaches about life
Griffin “shouldn’t be silenced,” Michelson writes,
Because when we silence art, when we tell creative people to stop pushing boundaries, we miss the opportunity to have healthy, difficult conversations around what it means to be an American and how and why we should participate in how our country operates, especially at this dire moment in our history…. Ultimately, I saw Griffin doing the tricky, difficult work of calling out her own government in an era ― like so many before in our history ― when dissent is labeled as poisonous, if not treasonous... In these confusing, panic-inducing times, I want to be challenged. I want to be forced to reconsider what I think is ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong.’ I want an outlet for my anger and I want the chance ― however rare ― to laugh.
This is perhaps my favorite part of Michelson’s discussion: the idea that art incites conversations that, while sometimes difficult, are necessary for a free and healthy democracy. This has been my point in my published work (since 2008), and I’m glad to see the idea getting some traction.
Intentions
But now we’re all starting to calm down, take a breath, and look at it more objectively. Michelson states,
No, we don’t have to like what she did. We can think and say it is tacky or gross or juvenile, but we can also defend her right to do it and attempt to understand her reasoning.
And Griffin intended to offend, in order to incite discussion, but not violence.
As I’m arguing in current work, intentionality is a funny thing. Many critics note that the comic’s main goal is to entertain – usually expressed by audience laughter. John Limon’s theory is that if (part of/enough of) the audience laughs, it’s a funny joke. However, the audience doesn’t have to laugh at the intention – they don’t have to “get it” – they laugh at their interpretation – including, perhaps, the voice, pantomime, or manner of the comic. If the intention doesn’t factor into the humor, should it factor into the effects? If communication is the shared interpretation of messages, then intention is a factor, but not a determining force.
Consequences of Art
Michelson claims Griffin’s picture, unlike 45’s speech, doesn’t have consequences. Perhaps hers is, like it or not, more like Ted Nugent’s speeches; although Nugent claims his statements were “metaphors,” whereas Griffin’s is “symbolism,” we could note, as he does that “They [the Secret Service] concluded, absolutely conclusively, I did not threaten anybody’s life.” We might further note that the Secret Service were still compelled to look into it.
Here’s the rub: we can’t claim that Griffin’s speech act incites conversations, and at the same time guarantee it won’t promote physical action. Just as we couldn’t for Nugent, or for the president. Objectively, Griffin and our 45th President had similar bases of power – it is only now that he has (some) control of the reins of government.
Certainly, the photo has had consequences for Griffin, and not all of those were orchestrated by the president, but neither were they entirely her fault, as this meme would claim. Ultimately, it’s the collective response that will determine if her career is over or not, if we’re going to have meaningful discussion or not. Or if we’re going to shut down attempts at political dissent that engage in violent (and/or racist) imagery, even when made by a comic.
Summary
Kathy Griffin displays the limits of a comic’s license to cross lines and speak truth to power. Art initiates opportunities to discuss, but that discussion still has to be brought forward – and this is true of any political discussion, however it is initiated. Because Griffin cannot hide behind her (after the fact) statements of intentions, she cannot be insulated from the consequences, but neither is she necessarily responsible. We the audience must determine what actions we choose to translate the discussion.
Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Problems?
