I've already addressed my opinions on the societal shun of horror films. I think that horror films are much more inventive and experimental than traditional genre films and I wish more of my peers appreciated their subtle depth and creativity. This post is specifically about the second installment of The Purge, which I highly encourage everyone watch. Unlike the original, The Purge: Anarchy is a slick thriller with a moral message about class, race, and oppression. I will briefly discuss the horror aesthetics in this film (and its original) before discussing this interconnected themes of hierarchy and exploitation. The cultural scholar and common person alike would greatly benefit from exploring these themes on the silver screen (even with a bit of gore). It may not need saying, but this post will contain spoilers of both films.
The Purger: Anarchy Trailer. Retrieved from YouTube.
The first film was typical of its genre. There were cliche pop-out-from-behind-a-corner fake scares, misdirection, and a dearth of larger meaning than the human urge to kill. The film centered around the near future where a government has issued a 24-hour lift of all laws allowing society to "purge" through murder, robbery, etc. This results in a lower crime rate through the rest of the year and a boon in sales of home defense systems. The first film followed a family that had a break-in in their home after the young son tried to save a man being hunted in their neighborhood. This film was simply okay, an interesting idea poorly executed and mostly abandoned for the cheap and easy scares. I almost didn't go see the second film because of my disappointment in the first. I'm very glad that I didn't miss it.
The Purge: Anarchy focuses on the streets that are ravaged by roaming bands of vigilantes and the mysterious presence of military and government forces patrolling the streets. A Malcolm X type figure (Carmelo) becomes a prominent character who preaches that the purge is a government tactic to eradicate the poor (and subsequently, minorities) in order to keep the crime rate down during the year. We find out during the film that the government is targeting low income neighborhoods, kidnapping people, and performing genocides of the lower classes. One black woman and her daughter are saved from this government kidnapping by a (white) purger looking for revenge on the man who killed his son in a car accident.
Two scenes stand out for me as particularly shocking and expressive. The father of the woman saved from government forces disappears early in the film. The daughter and granddaughter find out that he has sold himself to a rich white family for $100,000 to allow them to purge in the safety of their home. The white family has literally bought a poor, black body as if it were property, to ruthlessly destroy and exploit it without exposing themselves to the risks of the purge. There is a poignant frame where the nuclear family is standing around the father wielding weapons in their pristine suits and plastic-wrapped living room of expensive art. Their massacre of this man will be their new art, their secret expression of white privilege that protects their valuables, status, and domination over the lower class.
Auctioneer before the hunt. Retrieved from this site.
The second powerful scene is shown briefly at the end of the trailer where a woman in a blue dress announces before a seated group of people in fancy dress that they have collected the last purge of the evening. The main characters are released into a pitch black maze where the highest bidders enter with night vision goggles and weapons to hunt them down. There are obvious echoes here about the purchasing of bodies as in the previous scene, but it also echoes themes from Richard Connell's "The Most Dangerous Game." This short story is about a stranded man looking for protection who ends up being hunted down for sport like an animal in a rich man's safari game. Humans being the most cunning (and thus perhaps most satisfying to kill) animal provides an elevated type of sport than the traditional hunt. Indeed, the highest bidders in The Purge: Anarchy wear traditional British fox hunting uniforms as if they were out in a normal hunting activity and not viciously murdering other people. In a quite satisfying ending, I will simply mention that the group manages to get a hold of one of the night vision goggles and weapons, making the hunt more of a fair fight.
Both of these scenes highlight for me the interrelationship between class and race and the exploitative powers of a system that only reifies the lasting order and undervalues the lives of poor and minority bodies. In this film, both the rich and the government specifically target and kill blacks, the homeless, deviants, and youth in an attempt to eradicate and "purge" the society of perceived evils. This movie asks us all to reflect on who is in power, what oppressive acts are they committing, and who does society really serve. Both the murderers and the white families who can afford to lock up and hide are complicit in the exploitation and eradication of people deemed unworthy of life. Just as a police officer in Ferguson made a decision of life and death for Michael Brown, The Purge: Anarchy asks us to consider who is in control and what those consequences are. Who gets to define who is worthy of life? Who gets to define how punishment is laid out? Who is in control of our streets, our livelihoods, our identities as targets or as civilians?
Carmelo, leader of the anti-purge movement. Retrieved from this site.
Carmelo is trying to start a revolt against this system. He targets the rich, white, and off-limits bodies to upend the genocide of the poor and the minorities. His tactics are in part successful, at least in saving the lives of the main characters, but his ultimate goal is left unfulfilled. Will it take violent revolution to change the system? Can violence itself do anything but reify the use of violence as a peace-keeping tactic? If anything can be learned in the current state of Ferguson, it is that the tensions between authority, race, and class run deep, and define for entire groups of people their ability to claim a place on this earth free from fear and death. That is unacceptable and violates the very basics of human rights. The Purge: Anarchy brings these themes to life in an exaggerated thriller that asks us to ponder our own situation: how far off are we from this being our reality?
Now half-way through my 5-year program at USC, I have experienced a lot of pressure from the "publish or perish" graduate mindset. In short, I am making no big claims to state that graduate school is about producing research and work, whether in class, through conferences, or in journals. The need to be constantly producing becomes an expectation. Admitting that I did not get into a conference (which we are competitive and selective) elicited, "what do we pay you for?" as a response. People are always concerned with who is publishing where and how frequently and which conferences have deadlines coming up. One's success in performing academic labor is measured by output or the products made. The two papers I entered in that conference that are now works in progress do not "count" until they have been officially recognized at a conference or journal. Un-submitted ideas are never seen, never appreciated, never counted towards tenure. This post is not meant to be a eulogy for all of my un-works, but simply a lead-in to my larger discussion of what it means to produce academic labor.
As a graduate student, faculty, or staff member at a university, there are constant measurements and metrics in place to ensure one is meeting the unspoken yet pervasive standards of constant productivity. In producing this labor, are we not falling into the trap of capitalism as warned by Marx? Are we not separated from the fruits of our production? Scholars may feel forced or compelled to produce quantity over quality, experiencing distance and separation from their work in an attempt to meet production standards. It is hard to reach the journal-level quality of work when we are constantly being asked to produce paper after paper for classes, conferences, grants, and outside projects. Our salary is fixed, yet we may work extra hours (if one can say the clock is ever off) without compensation. Though we may rise in the ranks to post-doc, clinical faculty, or tenure track faculty, we never fully emerge from the pressures of a proletariat lifestyle that conditions us in the ideology of produce, produce, produce. This is not to undermine the system or call anyone to blame, but simply to reflect on the structure that informs our actions, why it does so, and if can it be changed. If we mean to highlight quality over quantity, how does publish or perish help us get there?
The pressure to be thinking, writing, and producing in part encouraged the creation of this blog. This motivation, coupled with my inability to produce journal-quality writings on all the topics I may want to comment on, encourages me to constantly update and consider life in an academic mindset. What is the value of this productive labor? For some, it may be monetary. Google Ads can be placed on Blogger and other Google hosted sites that provide the author a few cents per "click" on the ads placed within the site. I've also received emails about this blog asking me to write up posts about certain products and sell a permanent ad space that I would reference sporadically in my posts. Despite the fact that this is a research blog, not a consumer blog, they offered me $125 for the initial advertisement and $50 for every subsequent reference. This is the example blog post they asked me to use as a template. At first, I was surprised that my random musings on religion, the environment, and culture could be deserving of actual monetary compensation. Or, had I merely been trained by my other graduate work to consider my research a non-monetary exchange value? Although I am not sure what the value is of the words on this blog, I can say that the reputation I am building as a scholar is worth more than the few hundred dollars I would get from advertising for cars on my research blog. I suppose, there is some type of intangible productive value that I do retain from my work, only to be cashed in a few more years down the line, for a higher salary and job security. Until then, the alienation and potentially damaging stress appears to just be part of the process.
