2-News
12 — Wednesday, September 16, 2020
the b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
THE B-SIDE: CITIES
Why setting is so important in film
When I tell people around here that I’m from
Seattle, we often end up talking about one of the
following: Microsoft or Amazon (or people they
know that work there), rain or “Grey’s Anatomy.”
No one seems to know anything about Seattle
beyond the basics. And over time, as I’ve watched
films that are set in Seattle, it feels the same —
like no one really knows what they’re talking
about. It never feels quite right, no matter how
many Seattle sports references or aerial shots of
the skyline they include.
I’ve never understood why anyone wouldn’t
want to use Seattle as a setting — Are the trees too
green? Is the water too blue? Are the mountains
too beautiful? — but the reality is that, compared
to cities like New York, Chicago and L.A., there
are few mainstream films set in Seattle. Most of
them didn’t start getting made until the 1990s,
when grunge and Nirvana got the rest of the
country’s attention and people started to realize
that Seattle is a pretty cool place. Still, they’re
often not quite right. We’re happy to claim these
movies — “Sleepless in Seattle,” “10 Things I
Hate About You,” “Say Anything” and more —
but it’s also difficult not to notice, at the same
time, when a city layout that you know intimately
is being shifted for the film’s purposes.
Setting is crucial in film. It establishes
essential character traits, external and internal
alike. But with many films, including many of
the Seattle-based films I’ve seen, it feels like
the writers picked the film’s location out of a
hat. They pepper in major tourist landmarks
and design their costumes for the area’s general
climate, but the story could really be anywhere.
For Seattle-based films, this means establishing
location by showing a few of the landmarks
that people actually know: the Space Needle,
Pike Place Market, the Washington State
ferries, the Space Needle again, the stadiums
and skyscrapers downtown, the Puget Sound
waterfront and the Space Needle one more time
for good measure.
To be fair, there are complications to filming
in Seattle proper: It can be difficult and very
expensive, which is why many Seattle movies
opt to film in California or Vancouver, BC
instead. Still, it feels lazy. The unfortunate thing
is that people don’t usually notice the difference;
anyone who isn’t from the area has no way of
knowing that those two neighborhoods aren’t
anywhere near each other, or that the weather is
way too nice for May in Seattle.
There are a few exceptions to this: “Sleepless
in Seattle,” for example. Seattle natives love
“Sleepless” for the most part — it’s one of the few
Seattle-based movies that are actually filmed
in the city, and its use of a houseboat means
that the film is filled with lovely images of Lake
Union and downtown. Another is “10 Things I
Hate About You,” which prominently features
places like Kerry Park, Gas Works Park and the
Fremont Troll — places that Seattle natives know
very well even if outsiders might not recognize
them.
But these films aren’t perfect either. A good
chunk of “10 Things” is actually filmed in Tacoma
(a city just south of Seattle, about twice the size
of Ann Arbor), and some of what’s filmed on site
is actually compilations of multiple locations.
Not to mention the notoriously inaccurate scene
in “Sleepless” where Tom Hanks’s character and
his son inexplicably take a rowboat from Lake
Union to Alki Beach while Meg Ryan’s character
follows them in her car — a geographically
impossible scenario, especially in the short
amount of time that it appears to take. This scene,
and its blatant disregard for the city’s geographic
reality, has been mocked by Seattleites for almost
three decades.
Part of the disconnect stems from the fact
that these filmmakers are rarely from the area
at all. They don’t have the same respect for the
city’s structure and layout; to them, it’s just a
place where their movie is set rather than a city
that has been in existence for 150 years. For
example, Cameron Crowe made the choice in
“Say Anything” to illogically place a “Welcome
to Seattle” sign on the Lakeview Boulevard
overpass — a bridge right in the middle of the
city, far from city limits. In his mind, he could do
that — clearly, he saw the city as a world whose
reality he could shape for his own purposes.
The reality is that people don’t know enough
about Seattle as a city to appreciate it. Most
people I talk to think that rain in Seattle is
like most other places in the US: torrential
downpours and thunderstorms. It isn’t. Anyone
who has lived in the Seattle area knows that
Seattle rain is common, but gentle. And in the 17+
years that I’ve lived there, I’ve only witnessed
one
thunderstorm.
It’s
a
strange
double
standard: people who aren’t from New York or
L.A. somehow seem to know enough about it
to carry on a conversation with someone who’s
from there. Yet when I mention Seattle I get
those same responses: Microsoft, Amazon, rain,
“Grey’s Anatomy.”
The ways that film and place are intertwined
warrants more attention and precision. In an
ideal world, the city where a film is set should be
seen as a place that the story molds to fit, rather
than the opposite. Other films about other cities
use it as a setting that is so inextricable from the
story and the characters that it becomes like its
own character. And yet films about Seattle, and
other cities that are discussed less often, are not
given the same treatment.
If you’ve never lived in Seattle, or even been
there, these films probably won’t make much
difference to you either way. But to me, it’s a
reflection of the places that I’ve known for most
of my life. You might see an image of the Space
Needle; I see going to Seattle Center with my
family, or the summer I spent working at the
Pacific Science Center. You see the Pike Place
Market sign; I see first-grade field trips, or forays
into the city with my friends. You see an iconic
green-and-white ferry; I see trips to Bainbridge
Island to visit my aunt. You see a highway with
the Seattle skyline above it; I see I-5 North,
where I’ve driven and been driven hundreds of
times. Any images of Seattle in films are going to
be arbitrary, because you don’t know my city the
way that I do, just as I don’t know yours.
But I think the tides are starting to change.
People are paying more attention to Seattle — I’ve
had a number of people mention that they would
love to live there if given the chance. Hopefully
soon I’ll get to see more films that show Seattle
the way I know it, beyond that one stock image
of the Space Needle rising over the waterfront.
Maybe then, when I mention where I’m from,
people will have more to say.
Daily Arts Writer Kari Anderson can be reached
at kariand@umich.edu.
KARI ANDERSON
Daily Arts Writer
Hyphenated:
‘Bulge
Bracket’
DAILY A/PIA ARTS COLUMN
The slang term “Bulge Bracket” generally refers to
the largest multinational investment banks. As of July
2020, “Bulge Bracket” additionally refers to a TVshow
produced by Christopher Au.
Despite its unfortunate name, “Bulge Bracket”
introduces a relatable Asian American protagonist
and rejects soapy genre mainstays. Unlike other
high-stress high-drama workplace shows like “The
Good Wife” and “Suits,” “Bulge Bracket” doesn’t
aspire to be sexy or soapy. Sans steamy workplace
romances, Au develops his show around stress and
professional hurdles. By cleaving so close to reality, the
independently produced show depicts a frighteningly
familiar corporate grind.
Au delves into professional stresses through the
lens of novice banker Cathy (Jessika Van, “Awkward”).
She faces capricious bosses, frat-bro work culture and
unhelpful HR departments.
Though Cathy happens to be Asian, Au treats
her as a regular character. Au acknowledges her
Asian American-ness but thankfully dodges the
overwhelming urge some TV producers feel to harp
on and problematize an Asian American character’s
ethnicity. Instead, Cathy is first and foremost a woman
operating within a very white, institutionalized
space. In the show, Cathy’s primary concern is not
her Asian-ness. Rather, it’s whether sacrificing her
health, relationships and wellbeing is worth uncertain
professional success.
But while not making it the center of his character
narrative, Au does not skimp on excellent Asian
American commentary. Through different APIA
(Asian and Pacific Islander American) characters, Au
shows that Asian-American-ness is an ethnic umbrella
term and not a personality trait. Emphatically: Not all
Asians are the same.
In one fantastic exchange, Cathy asks her co-workers
where she should rent a hotel for her parents. Danny
(Chris King Wong, “Better Call Saul”) her underling
analyst quips, “What kind of Asian are you?” noting
that his parents always stay in his tiny apartment when
they visit. On screen, Cathy shruggs and awkwardly
explains that she lives with her boyfriend, a statement
that makes Danny raise his eyebrows.
In this exchange, “Bulge Bracket” ribs at a
mythologized monolithic Asian American. Not all
Asians are the same and there is no “correct” way of
being Asian American. To quote a dear friend of mine,
“For just as many Asian Americans that there are, there
are just as many valid ways of being Asian American.”
By virtue of having more than one Asian American
character, Au is able weave in these illuminating
scenarios without being heavy-handed. In that same
fantastic exchange, Danny personally identified
frugality and modesty as Asian traits, yet Cathy, also
Asian American, does not identify with his definition.
“Bolo” (Feodor Chin, “Big Little Lies”) is another
character Au uses to combat Asian American
stereotypes. Cathy’s boss is loud, capricious and
hyper-masculine. He plays golf with the other high-
level executives, having broken through the bamboo
ceiling. But his success belies the things he sacrificed
to become a top-level banker.
In the denouement, however, Bolo reveals a more
serious side to his character. He discloses to Cathy
that his name is actually John and that a racist
coworker nicknamed him “Bolo” during his first year
as an analyst grunt. Like Cathy, Bolo suffered racist
microaggressions and weathered mercurial bosses. In
the end, he tells Cathy that if she sticks with the firm,
he will make sure she gets good, career-building cases.
Finally! Someone on the show recognized the
existence of racism and articulated it! For the entirety
of the first season, the firm’s pervasive Culture of
Silence stymied any genuine in-world discourse. Still,
Bolo’s cathartic revelation leaves a bitter aftertaste.
Only Bolo’s privilege as an executive-level banker
allows him to put a word to the crime. His ability to
articulate reality comes from a place of privilege.
In the world of “Bulge Bracket,” without powerful
industry connections, a single misstep can cause
professional
ruin.
Having
conversations
about
race and discrimination are unproductive for most
employees; HR is unresponsive and bank superiors are
unsympathetic. Corporate does not valorize honesty.
The “Bulge Bracket” unequivocally demands personal
sacrifice and conformity.
At the end of the day, I hesitate to label the show’s
corporate environment as hellish. The show is based
off of Au’s wife Cindy’s own two-year stint in the
bulge bracket. The world Au depicts is firmly rooted
in an earthly reality. There’s a notable lack of elicit file
cabinet rendezvous. Instead, the show depicts un-sexy
sexual harassment and a young capable employee
being ground into the dirt by stress. “Bulge Bracket”
digs into corporate politics and presents the corporate
workplace for what it is: absurd, montonimous and
stressful.
I was incredibly pleased by this unassuming show. I
feasted well on “Bulge Bracket,” temporarily satiating
my desire for good television and unmatched Asian
American representation.
***
For this food rec, I struggled to think of something
mobile for stressed corporate clogs. My ultimate
response is a Panera Bread poppy-seed bagel with plain
cream cheese.
However, in honor of my banker aunt, I am
additionally recommending a side of lox and a generous
sprinkle of capers. My addendums are a little more
luxurious than a 100+ hour work week would permit
but I am an advocate for treating oneself.
Daily Arts Columnist Elizabeth Yoon can be reached
at elizyoon@michigandaily.com.
LIZZIE YOON
Daily Arts Columnist
DESIGN BY TAYLOR SCHOTT
THE B-SIDE: CITIES
The endless TV shows about NYC
There is no shortage of television that
takes place in New York City. I truly believe
there should be an Emmy category titled
“Outstanding Series Based in NYC.” It’s
almost maddening when you think about it.
Do the universes overlap? Has Jerry Seinfeld
ordered coffee from Central Perk? Do Olivia
Benson and Captain Holt occasionally pass
by each other at NYPD events? Did Barney
Stinson ever try something weird with
Samantha Jones? The streets of the Big Apple
are overrun with characters from iconic
shows, so much so that the city itself has
become one of television’s most prolific stars.
It’s hard for me to not dedicate this
piece to “The Nanny” or “Everybody Hates
Chris” — the TV seeds of my childhood that
turned into full-blown obsession — but as
important to New York television culture
as those series are, they’ll have to wait their
turn. There are two shows whose existences
define NYC television, driving tourists to
West Village street corners and Morningside
Heights diners. Yes, I’m talking about the
two homogenous friend group-based sitcoms
we love to hate or hate to love: “Friends” and
“Seinfeld.”
“Friends” and “Seinfeld” are the New
York City sitcoms. I will actively ignore the
existence of “How I Met Your Mother” for
two main reasons: 1) Three out of the five
main characters are Midwestern/Canadian
transplants and 2) that damn finale. People
may be angry that I’m putting “Friends”
and “Seinfeld” in the same article, let alone
sentence, but at the bare minimum, they are
both about a friend group navigating life
in the big city, and they were both actually
filmed in California. With that being said,
I do agree the two shows are incredibly
different, primarily in the way New York City
itself plays a role.
I’ve said it before and I will say it again:
“Friends” could’ve taken place in any city
and still have been the same show. What was
uniquely New York about it? The characters
largely interacted with only each other,
and ventured nowhere in the city beyond a
nonexistent coffee shop and the occasional
theater. Joey could have been a struggling
actor in LA, Rachel could’ve worked at the
Chicago Bloomingdales, Monica could be a
chef in a Miami restaurant — the storylines
would barely change. “Friends” couldn’t
even bother to get NYC geography right.
The characters often mention coming from
or walking through Central Park, and in
one episode Phoebe says her apartment is
down the block from the park. Yet all of
their apartments are in the West Village,
specifically around Grove and Bedford,
which is over 50 blocks from Central Park.
And you rarely see them on a subway. It’s
madness.
The character potential of New York City
is wasted in “Friends,” but “Seinfeld” has no
such problem. From the Soup Nazi to George
Steinbrenner, Mr. Pitt to David Puddy,
“Seinfeld” utilizes the lawless good of the
city that never sleeps. Even the main group
itself is a personification of the city; chaotic
adults who view life with a nonchalance and
indifference that would be infuriating if it
wasn’t so entertaining. Nearly every episode
in this show-about-nothing provides a look
into the zany tedium of city life. A bottle
episode taking place in the waiting area of
a Chinese restaurant. Fighting for chocolate
babka in a crowded bakery. Failing to get
sleep against the neon red glow of a chicken
roaster sign across the street. These stories,
and every odd character thrown into them,
don’t try to stifle the absurdity of New York.
They embrace it.
It’s an easy choice to place a show in New
York. The city makes for an easy and familiar
backdrop, with enough murder to make for a
good crime show and enough elites for a good
schoolgirl drama. But any show not taking
full advantage of the setting is wasting the
city, tossing aside plotlines and characters
that are essentially written for them on every
subway ride and bodega run. Just leave it to
the king of observations, Mr. Jerry Seinfeld,
to explain it: “All people in New York are
funny and get funnier as they get older, and
everyone outside New York gets less funny.”
Daily Arts Writer Samantha Della Ferra can
be reached at samfd@umich.edu.
SAM DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
DESIGN BY TAYLOR SCHOTT
The streets of the Big
Apple are overrun
with characters from
iconic shows, so
much so that the city
itself has become one
of television’s most
prolific stars