I have proclaimed my love for Modern Family on multiple occasions. As proclamations go, it's a candid one. I love watching the show. oftentimes I get caught up in its ordinary-yet-extraordinary quality: the suburban, upper-middle-class Pritchett/Dunphy/Tucker clan is, by socioeconomic standard, a stereotype of the american dream, but their experiences are anything but dull. How Lloyd and Levitan manage to make their lives into such interesting and engaging narrative is a feat of screenwriting genius.
But it's unfair to say they aren't helped by the diverse identities of the family members. Lloyd and Levitan, ironically both straight white men with wholesome families of their own, spin a tale ripe with the promise of dysfunction. Modern family advertises a look into the modern experience, complete with multiculturalism and LGBTQQ representation, all the while rooted in the "traditionalism" of waspish undertones (embodied by patriarch Jay Pritchett).
Modern Family is the kind of show that gives you the gooey warm-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach feeling, the kind that is universally relatable yet depicts a demographically narrow experience. And yet. I've devoured all six seasons like a lay competitive eater--fast, while enjoying every bite. As I polish off the last episode, I am forced to reckon with the consequences of my actions. Like a binge eater, I feel a tinge of guilt over the sheer magnitude of my consumption. Over forty hours of my time gone, and what have I gained? False emotional gratification, the pleasure of fast-flowing comedy, and acquaintance of a talented cast...but that is the metaphoric equivalent to mental junk food. I've learned nothing new about the art itself, and have yet to see multiculturalism or the LGBTQQ experience in a new light through this menagerie of television characters.
The more I think about Modern Family, the more I wonder if the beloved sitcom truly delivers the modern experience, if it does cultural diversity and the LGBTQQ lens justice, and if it truly (or correctly) captures the ideals of contemporary society.
Case and point is the show's less-than-satisfying portrayal of multiculturalism. Gloria and Manny may be columbian, but Modern Family is a quintessentially white experience. Whatever potential multiculturalism the Delgados could have brought is reduced to a series of poorly executed jokes based on columbian/latin stereotypes. Sure, Jay sacrifices his ham-and-turkey for a Columbian meal once or twice, but on the whole, whatever "diversity" there could have been is reduced to a cinge-worthy attempt at normalization. Gloria is the epitome of the hypersexualized latina, and her accent the pinnacle of the immigrant stereotype. On the whole, she and Manny have undeniably conformed to the white experience, and the show does little to invoke their heritage other than a few Columbian dishes and comedic stereotypes. Multiculturalism is a barely existent subplot. To advertise the show as racially diverse or multicultural, as abc does, is simply false.
Cam and Mitch, the championed gay couple, are similarly snubbed. Their romance fulfills a largely unidimensional comedic existence, lacking in emotional and physical intimacy compared to the clan's other two couples. While the show explores the Pritchett-Tuckers' unique difficulties of starting a family, it doesn't introduce kissing or any insinuation of bedroom intimacy between Cam and Mitch until well into the fourth season. This, compared to the spare-but-ready references (and displays) of intimacy between the Pritchett-Dunphys and Delgado-Pritchetts, is disheartening, and fails to humanize the LGBTQQ community in a way that is necessary for its advancement. In addition to the sexual neutering of the couple, it's interesting to note that for a good half of the six-season show, Mitch and Cam refer to each other with an almost derogative usage of "boyfriend." on this, Waymon Hudson writes
Mitch and Cam...[do not call each other] "husbands" or even "partners," but boyfriends. They have a family, own a home, and share their lives together, yet use a diminutive term for their relationship like "boyfriends"? The family obviously views them as more than boyfriends as well, calling them both "uncles" and not differentiating the relationship from others in the family, yet the couple themselves still can't talk about each other more than if they are casually dating?
Politically correct or not, these small but keen differences serve to drive deeper the otherness of the show's only gay couple, and fails to portray them in a way that does true to the LGBTQQ community in modern society. Mitch and Cam are breaking ground as pioneers in Hollywood's portrayal of otherness, don't get me wrong. But their place in popular media's rudimentary stage is obvious; there is still work to be done in the show, and in the industry as a whole.
The most troubling aspect of the show, however, is not in its failures in multiculturalism or LGBTQQ depiction, but its endorsement of dysfunctionality as a metaphor for the ideals of contemporary society. Perhaps it's a way to ease in the theme of change, but the problem with using the label "dysfunctionality" to equate social change is to equate said change with wrongness. To liken social change to dysfunction--familial or societal--is to set the wasp model as a normalized definition of correctness from which social change, be it multiculturalism or LGBTQQ portrayal, diverges. This is the underlying model modern family is built upon. Whatever comedy or loving family dynamic sugarcoats the show fails to correct the idea that social change is not akin to dysfunctionalism, because there is no clear right or wrong.
The core value of Modern Family is, as Bruce Feiler of the New York Times says, "to preserve the ideal of the family--conflicted, but functioning." It is a conservative one in nature, and one which, try as it might, the show simply cannot escape.
But I, for one, have fallen in love with Modern Family the way one falls in love with a BLT Cobb salad from Wendy's, a dish hiding notoriously fat-rich toppings under a facade of veggie greens. I can't help it. Modern Family is my junk food, and while it claims a plethora of ground breaking change (the same way Wendy's gambles on the pathos of the word salad), I wonder if it is in truth so modern after all.
At least I'll consider it before my next binge.
