COLD OPEN
INT.
FAMILY
ROOM
–
AFTERNOON
LITTLE
SISTER
(7)
hurries into the room, out of
breath. Her aquamarine “The
Little
Mermaid”
backpack
unceremoniously plops to the
ground as she kicks off her
shoes and makes a beeline for
the couch, GoGurt in hand. BIG
SISTER (10) is already lying
across the opposite couch.
LITTLE SISTER
Did I miss it? Did it start yet?
Big Sister shakes her head NO
in confirmation.
LITTLE SISTER
(sighing, in relief)
Oh, good.
(then)
Can you turn the sound on?
Where’s the remote?
Big Sister shrugs. Little Sister
begins to search the couch
cushions, pulling out a few hair
ties and some change before
spotting the remote underneath
the couch Big Sister is sitting on.
She quickly dives for it, raises the
volume, then jumps back to her
seat.
TV ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
…from viewers like you. Thank
you.
Little Sister pops open her
GoGurt and nods contentedly
to the TV, gratified by her
contribution.
As a kid, I used to follow
the same routine almost every
afternoon: I’d drop my bag,
grab a snack and book it to the
family room. I knew the after-
school PBS schedule by heart;
my sister and I would watch half
of “Cyberchase,” followed by
“Arthur” and then “Fetch! with
Ruff Ruffman.” If I was lucky,
I’d catch a rerun of “Curious
George” before the evening news.
I knew exactly what would
play and when. I loved my little
TV routine as a constant, fixed
rhythm in my weekday. Most
of all, I liked that the shows
themselves followed their own
resolute patterns, each episode
varying little from the last. Even
today,
situational
comedies
remain a comforting, steadfast
source of entertainment for me
in an otherwise entropic world.
Any time I watch “Seinfeld” or
“Everybody Loves Raymond,”
my mind drifts back to weekend
mornings with my dad, the sound
of his laughter reverberating
through
the
room,
mine
instinctively chiming in to follow
suit. I wasn’t quite able to grasp
the jokes yet, but it didn’t really
matter; that rhythmic humor
absorbed me into the feeling all
the same.
Sitcoms
are
perhaps
the
most generic form of seriously
crafted television in the game. I
don’t mean that as a dig, but an
observation: They are structured
to a tee. The laugh track tells
you
when
to
laugh.
Audio
sweetening tells you precisely
which moments are meant to
be heartfelt or hilarious or
horrific. And most importantly,
the characters lead normal lives
with mundane jobs and familiar
conflicts, ever-relatable to the
average viewer.
The beauty of these shows
is in the monotony itself, in
their ability to work within the
audience’s expectations and still
tell a story in 22 minutes. A good
sitcom knows not to color outside
the lines of such a surefire
formula to success. A great one
knows how to draw a masterpiece
within.
ACT ONE
EXT. BRADY BACKYARD –
DAY
The Brady kids are playing in
perfect harmony. An assortment
of toys, bikes and hoola-hoops are
strewn across the grass. PETER
and JAN push BOBBY and CINDY
on a swing set. MARCIA and
GREG toss a ball back and forth.
They are the poster children of
familial bliss. Everything is as it
should be.
INT. BRADY KITCHEN – DAY
ALICE
is
hard
at
work,
preparing
breakfast
for
the
family.
CAROL
is
standing
around looking motherly without
actually doing anything. MIKE
waltzes
in,
newspaper
and
briefcase in hand. The parents
visibly relax, lulled into a false
sense of security and peace. It’s
only so long before –
A LOUD CRASH comes from
outside.
Cindy races into the kitchen,
Bobby a beat behind her.
BOBBY
(pointing at Cindy)
She started it!
CINDY
No, he did!
BOBBY
It’s not my fault you all moved
in last week.
Cindy promptly bursts into
tears. Mike and Carol wear
appropriately
concerned
expressions.
CUT TO – ALICE
ALICE
Now, who wants breakfast?
The Brady Bunch are one of
the most, if not the most, iconic
families in American television to
date. Everyone knows their story
(and if you don’t, you can catch up
in about 60 seconds): Two single
parents meet, fall in love and
merge their families into one.
Total “guy with three kids
meets
girl
with
three
kids
widower/divorcée to husband/
wife classic,” huh?
Beyond the Bradys’ squeaky-
clean, picture-perfect reputation,
they were foremost a blended
family — a fairly radical premise
at the time. The notion of not
only featuring a slightly unusual
family set-up but normalizing it
in a sitcom was groundbreaking
to see. Sure, having the kids call
their new step-parents “mom”
and “dad” from the get-go was a
bit much, and Carol’s ex-husband
was never mentioned out of the
network’s fear of controversy,
but conforming to TV ideals
is
precisely
what
gave
this
nontraditional family its staying
power and ingrained them in the
popular cultural landscape.
Greeting cards are art. They
are mass-produced, but are sent
just to you; the sender is only
“thinking of you.”
Greeting cards line my shelves
and walls like artwork: a dog
with a toilet joke from my sister,
scoops of my favorite ice cream
flavors falling from the sky from
my parents, eight reasons my
grandmother loves me (written
by a copywriter), a joyful Yom
Kippur message from a well-
meaning Christian relative, a
“drink up, it’s ur bday” from my
hometown friends. The people
who gave me these little works
of art were loved ones who knew
how much I would enjoy them.
In an interview with The
Michigan Daily, Aaron Ahuvia, a
University of Michigan-Dearborn
marketing
and
U-M-Ann
Arbor Art & Design professor
and leading expert in non-
interpersonal love, described the
impetus behind gift-giving and
gift-loving.
“You’re
dating
somebody,
and they give you some sort of a
present, a nice decorative item,
and you are happy to display it in
your home and you really love this
item,” Ahuvia said. “And the two
of you break up … you are gonna
like to get rid of it … the object
really was a reflection of the kind
of relationship you had with the
person.”
A card that carries a message,
even one not written by the giver,
reflects the giver’s love. It’s a
preservation of that love forever
— a reminder, a preserver and a
keepsake.
In Britain, Valentine’s Day
cards have been a pure expression
of love, adorned with lace, flowers
and paper embellishments, since
the early 19th century. These
cards were far too expensive and
time-consuming for the middle
and lower classes to access,
restricting
these
handcrafted
expressions of love to the upper
echelons.
Then,
in
1849,
love
began
its
oddly
beautiful
commercialization
when
Massachusetts
entrepreneur
Esther
Howland
created
a
Valentine’s card assembly line.
She
made
elaborate
pieces
from
scratch
pairing
ornate
illustrations with ribbons, silk
and lace. The business soon
expanded to New Year’s and
birthday cards, as well as May
baskets.
Howland
became
a
multi-thousandaire
while
spreading love and well wishes
with beautiful handcrafting.
Louis Prang, the so-called
“father of the Christmas card,”
also began selling cards in 1875,
selling a reported five million
yearly by 1881. Prang held design
competitions for artists to share
their work and Christmas wishes
on a large scale (and receive a high
payout for winning). Participants
included artist John La Farge,
architect Stanford White and
designer Louis Comfort Tiffany.
Designs varied in whimsy and
fun, solitude and celebration. The
cards of the early 20th century
reflected each artist’s message
but were personal to the card
giver and receiver.
Ahuvia described the earliest
conceptions of art as “the creation
of
something
beautiful
that
exists purely for its decorative
or beautiful effect.” Early cards
were sold on the market but
were certainly works of art. The
new world of greeting cards
allowed the American public to
give something beautiful to their
loved ones. No longer did they
need delicate handcrafting skills
or extreme wealth to spread love
and happiness in a tiny envelope.
The emerging world of greeting
cards created a new art form with
infinite possibilities — and put it
into millions of hands.
In 1910, the Hall brothers,
Joyce (J.C.), Rollie and William,
began selling their greeting card
designs out of two shoeboxes in
Kansas City, Mo., and grew in
size until their business caught
fire in 1915. They reopened in
1917, intending to further the
personal, intimate nature of
letter writing. This meant selling
cards held within envelopes
and cards that folded, rather
than the traditional open-faced
cards. This allowed for surprise
messages and longer love notes
hidden behind a card’s cover.
During World War I and II,
people turned to the card’s short,
sweet letters to wish others well
across the world. The business,
later named Hallmark Cards Inc.,
took off. In “Hallmark: A Century
of Caring,” J.C. Hall said, “Many
more men became permanent
buyers of cards than ever before.
And I saw something else in the
custom — a way of giving less
articulate people, and those who
tend to disguise their feelings, a
voice to express their love and
affection.” Anyone who could
not express the extent of their
love in their own words could
do it through someone else’s art,
whether for the holidays or an
everyday occasion.
Greeting cards had become art
for the masses — which meant it
was no longer considered art.
According
to
Ahuvia,
if
something
was
created
not
out of “inspired desire” but
to
“communicate
something
or
create
demand
for
the
marketplace to make money, that
disqualified it from being art.”
This has now begun to change,
he said, as “that idea of art
disqualified a lot of things that
are important to non-elites.” This
leads to populism, he said “not in
the political sense,” but regarding
popular
music,
art,
sitcoms,
greeting cards, “The Bachelor.”
“These could all be taken
seriously,” Ahuvia said. “I like the
democratic spirit of that.”
Be it “The Bachelor” or a cheesy
valentine, populist art represents
the popular conception of love. It
expresses love through common,
widespread imagery, humor and
far more whimsy than a long love
poem or romantic play. The art of
the greeting card, while far from
“elite,” is made more beautiful by
the messages of love it can spread
and the sheer volume of love and
joy the “mass-produced” art can
spread, regardless of class or
taste.
In 1932, Disney and Hallmark
united for one of the most subtly
influential business deals ever,
irreversibly
corporatizing
the
somewhat personal greeting card
industry while creating a new
market for children. The Disney
cards now allowed parents to give
cards their kids would love and
cherish. With Mickey Mouses
and Disney princesses, the cards
connected to more than a moment
in time or a simple message
— they depicted kids’ favorite
characters and stories of a single
year. As technology progressed,
cards became a new form of pop
art. New, whimsical elements
adorned cards for children and
adults alike, including complex
pop-ups, musical cards, light-up
embellishments and mechanical
cards.
Greeting cards also became
a new form of comic, hiding
humorous greetings and wishes
in their new, joke-style Hallmark
Shoebox Greetings line. While
not the most advanced humor,
this artful, subtle humor has
reached millions of homes and
hearts since its conception.
Corporations, like art, forever
transform
our
beliefs,
for
better or worse. They shape our
knowledge of holidays and form
our emotional ties to them.
“If something is created by a
corporation, for the purpose of
making money, it doesn’t feel
authentic,” Ahuvia said. But does
that lack of authenticity stop us
from loving something?
Design by Leah Hoogterp
6 — Wednesday, April 12, 2023
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
When I was nine years old, I took
on my first role in live theater as
Scuttle in “The Little Mermaid Jr.” I
never could have imagined that nine
years later I would prance around
onstage in drag, complete with a
child-size royal cape and a bright
blue glitter beard as King Arthur in
“Monty Python’s Spamalot.”
This is one of the many moments
I look back on when I try to
remember why I ever thought I
was a cisgender woman. At the
time, I thought the confidence I felt
embodying King Arthur came from
the ability to be silly in a show full
of comedic bits and ridiculousness.
After all, I haven’t been in a show
since “Spamalot,” where I’ve had
the opportunity to slice someone’s
obviously fake arms off with a
wooden sword or gallop across
the stage on an invisible horse
voiced by a pair of coconuts. Now,
I realize it was that ridiculousness
that allowed me to express myself
and my gender unabashedly, glitter
beard and all. In my years at a
private elementary school, I did
everything I could to customize
my uniform so I wouldn’t blend
into the sea of red polos and khaki
skirts, donning tights with the
most garish patterns I could find
and sunglasses that would put
Elton John to shame. Looking
back, I realize how much power
that form of expression gave me.
Today, I embrace it wholeheartedly.
Whether it’s a school uniform or
the unwritten gender norms of
society, I don’t let those restrictions
stop me from being myself.
So, today, I want to share with
you my secret to the perfect glitter
beard and the maximum amount of
gender euphoria.
Step One: Primer! Skincare is
always essential, especially when
applying heavy makeup like a glitter
beard. This step is particularly
important when wearing this look
in front of a crowd. A show-stopping
number can make you sweat, and
we don’t want your fabulous glitter
beard melting away!
Step Two: Outline your glitter
beard with eyeliner pencil. This is
your time to be precise and make
sure your look is exactly how you
want it. The shape I used is simply
inspiration; you can add as much
flair in your beard’s shape as you
like.
Step Three: Use a brush or
sponge to fill in your outline with
water-activated makeup (like the
Mac Chromacake that I used) in
the color of your choice. I chose my
favorite shade of royal blue. Use
more than one coat for maximum
coverage.
Step Four: It’s time for glitter!
For fine glitter, mix with a gel
mixing medium or primer and
apply with a flat foundation brush
or fingers. Make sure you don’t
miss any spots. You want to look
as sparkly as possible.
Step Five: Setting spray is the
key to making your glitter beard
stick, especially as you proudly
show off your beauty to the world,
whether that’s onstage in a dance-
heavy number like the Act I finale
of
“Spamalot,”
appropriately
titled “Run Away!” or strolling
through the aisles of your local
convenience store.
Step Six: If you’d like to add
chunkier glitter, apply spirit gum
in small sections and immediately
add your glitter with a fan brush.
Again, make sure that your entire
beard is covered evenly. You don’t
want to look patchy!
Step
Seven:
Add
finishing
touches to complete your look and
really make it your own. Find a
glittery eyeshadow that matches
the color of your beard — or one
that completely clashes. Whatever
floats your boat. Add lipstick that
pops. Fill in your eyebrows for
a little bit of extra sparkle. Put
your hair in a gravity-defying
updo.
Accessorize!
Keep
in
mind that this look is completely
customizable. Blue was my choice,
but if purple or green is more your
style, who am I to stop you?
This tutorial is about more than
applying a neat glitter beard for a
role. Take these techniques and
apply them whenever you feel
the need for a little extra self-
expression. We live in a time and
place where being oneself can be
contentious, to say the least. Now,
more than ever, it is important to
show the world exactly who you
are whether anyone else likes it
or not. Enjoy the look you create,
no matter your gender, race,
sexuality or any other aspect of
your identity. I hope that your
glitter beard adds a bit of euphoria
to your life.
A makeup tutorial for gender euphoria
SERENA IRANI
TV Beat Editor
Not-your-average family sitcom pilot
MAX NEWMAN
Daily Arts Contributor
The unconventional art in greeting cards
KAYA GINSKY
Senior Arts Editor
Design by Evelyn Mousigian
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Read more at MichiganDaily.com