Not that MacFarlane needs me or anyone
else to defend him. He's no martyr. The style of frat-boy humour that
so annoyed people at the Oscars is that upon which he's built for
himself a small TV animation empire. Having gotten away with – and
actually thrived on – far grosser comedy in Family Guy and
American Dad for so many years makes the 39-year-old
millionaire somewhat untouchable.
So why do I feel compelled to debate
the vocal masses who have been quick to deem him public enemy #1?
Again, it's not because I feel he needs to be defended. Nor is it
because I think he did a particularly great job; his own
self-deprecating meta review of himself, “Seth MacFarlane Proves to
be Mediocre Oscar Host”, is pretty accurate in my opinion. So no,
this editorial is not a defence of the man, and it is not a
contrarian stand for the minority opinion. Rather, it is a plea for
cooler heads and less conclusion-jumping, which are becoming
increasingly rare in this digital age of hasty headlines and instant
reactions.
Indeed, the hunt for measured or objective reviews of Mr. MacFarlane's hosting gig has proven a difficult one. Most critics either neglect or simply refuse to take the good with the bad, opting for the easier route of isolating his most offensive zingers as the entire basis for their assessment of not only his performance, but of his personal character as well, going so far as to libel him with allegations of misogyny, racism, and homophobia.
Forgive me for thinking that such
accusations are thinly based and excessively harsh. Even the most
cringe-inducing of MacFarlane's one-liners are no worse than Ricky
Gervais' three consecutive years of mean-spirited roasting at the
Golden Globes, a common comparison being made to MacFarlane's
attempt. And even that comparison is not an entirely sound one, as
Gervais only knew how to make crass and acidic jabs at the talent in
the room, whereas MacFarlane's comedy ran the gamut – as it does in
his animated TV shows – from dangerously provocative to
subversively satirical to self-consciously dopey.
People seem to forget, or simply don't
care, that the same guy who wrote that unnerving
George-Clooney/Quvenzhane-Wallis innuendo is the same guy who thought
to include that affectionately geeky Sound of Music reference
(yes, that gag cracked me up). The same guy who rolled our eyes with
the now infamous “We Saw Your Boobs” song was likely even more
eager to croon the Fred & Ginger classic “The Way You Look
Tonight”, swing music being one of his favourite larks. He who
jested about the decidedly unfunny Chris-Brown/Rihanna drama also
invented that clever Captain Kirk sketch, which not only served as an
innovative framing device for raunchy asides and musical pastiche
alike, but also rained a preemptive blow against the rough reviews
that MacFarlane surely knew he would face ever since accepting the
job four months ago.
Am I implying that we should
unconditionally forgive MacFarlane his most tasteless bits? Not at
all. A cruel joke is a cruel joke no matter which way you slice it
(although I'd argue that most of his bad material falls under the
category of immature rather than cruel). But what right has anyone to
judge a large, variety-filled performance from nothing more than the
relatively small sample of gags that crossed the line? How can a
handful of ill-advised jokes encapsulate the efforts of an unarguably
talented man who clearly worked his ass off to write, act, sing, and
dance on a 3.5 hour live show?
That is selective reasoning. That is
biased journalism. That is unfair.
Of course, MacFarlane was damned if he
did and damned if he didn't. Even if all his material was clean as a
sheet, he would still probably have taken flack for the show's heavy
musical slant. Not that it was even his doing, but the host always
acts as a lightning rod for negativity toward the show, even if it's
not his/her fault. William Shatner's subtle aside, “Are you sure
you want to become the first Oscar host to get a bad review?”,
apparently went over the heads of the audience at the Dolby Theatre,
who did not laugh on cue as I did.
If you're one of the many who hated
this year's telecast because of the plethora of musical performances,
then your beef is more with producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron. As
much as I enjoy song and dance, even I felt the frequent shout-outs
to Chicago (which the pair
executive produced ten years ago) wreaked of self-promotion.
Not MacFarlane's fault, but again, he's the easiest target to
identify for those who thought the show was an unbearable disaster.
I wouldn't weep for him. He'll land on
his feet and continue to prosper doing what he does best. A press
culture as quick to judge as this will undoubtedly move on to the
next big controversy soon enough, but I'll continue to keep my eyes
peeled for opinions that are a bit more considered, a bit more
willing to see a bigger picture, and perhaps just a bit sweeter than
the cry of the mob.
I'm just searching for some sugar, man.
