Chapter 1



Chapter 1

Literature Review and Methodology

This chapter will be divided into three parts, with the first looking at the history of academic approaches to the teen genre in film and on television, the second focussing on discussions of linguistics, youth culture and the third demonstrating how these feed in to the thesis’ overall methodology.

The growing popularity of teen texts was financially rewarding and spread the image of the American teenager around the world. As cinematic portrayals of the teenage experience increased in number and popularity, filmmakers’ recognised the ‘teenage experience’ as a means of marketing films to a younger audience. Studies of the teen genre usually focus on the American productions as the most prolific production context and the most familiar examples globally. Despite this the genre and its conventions are actively repeated globally, though it can be difficult to find histories of the genre in non-American contexts. There are several articles and studies on teen films in Britain, but the tendency is to investigate these as individual films, or as examples of British national cinema, rather than as part of a wider genre.[1] Therefore the majority of the studies I discuss here will be concerned with the history of the teen genre within the context of American cinema.

Analysis of the teen genre in film and television

In the opening argument of his study Teenagers and Teenpics: the Juvenilization of the American Movies in the 1950s, Thomas Doherty outlines the focus of American cinema in the modern day:

As any multiplex marquee attests, theatrical movies cater primarily to one segment of the entertainment audience: teenagers. Without the support of the teenage audience, few theatrical movies break even, fewer still become hits, and none become blockbusters. In America, movies reflect teenage, not mass – and definitely not adult – tastes (Doherty 2002, 1).

The contemporary film industry spends time and money on marketing new releases, and attracting the teenage market with their disposable income, their sociability and their curiosity about the media. In addition to the film itself it is possible to purchase various other items connected to the film; from soundtrack albums and posters, to clothes and toys, marketed in order to add to the film’s overall profits. This is not to say that the industry of filmmaking has not always been driven by the desire to attain profit, however, Doherty argues that the recognition of the teenage demographic as a powerful force in reaching profit has changed the process of producing and marketing new films in Hollywood.

The teen genre is usually cited as beginning in 1955 with the two films Blackboard Jungle (Richard Brooks, 1955) and Rebel without a Cause (Nicholas Ray, 1955). Both films were inspired by newspaper reports of violent youths,[2] and produced by the mainstream Hollywood studio system – MGM and Warner Brothers respectively. Despite the success of these initial films in 1955, the majority of teen films from this period were produced by smaller independent companies such as AIP (American International Pictures). At the end of the 1950s films for teenage audiences, such as I was a Teenage Werewolf (Gene Fowler Jr., 1957) and I was a Teenage Frankenstein (Herbert L. Strock, 1957), were produced on very small budgets. AIP was a distribution company run by James H. Nicholson and Sam Arkoff that also produced low budget films.[3] These films covered several genres, including musicals, beach films, horror, and crime, and according to Doherty, ‘AIP gauged the tastes of successive generations of American teenagers, accumulating a filmography that documents the shifting trends, values, and lingo of its audience of the moment’ (Doherty 2002, 125). By addressing a teenage audience directly AIP provided a distinctive entertainment for its demographic, and by putting off an adult audience teenagers were provided the privacy in which to enjoy it. By recognising the importance of the teenage audience, AIP was ahead of other companies of the period, realising that it was possible to earn money by targeting this particular group.[4] The demographic were presented with a range of genres and filmmaking styles and a direct form of marketing that is still prevalent in contemporary cinema, creating a strategic syllogism in the mid 1960s known as ‘The Peter Pan Syndrome’:

a) a younger child will watch anything an older child will watch;

b) an older child will not watch anything a younger child will watch;

c) a girl will watch anything a boy will watch;

d) a boy will not watch anything a girl will watch; therefore,

e) to catch your greatest audience, you zero in on the 19-year-old male (Doherty 2002, 128).

There is no indication that AIP are attempting to speak to their teenage audience as contemporaries or as equals, nor are they attempting to explain the teenage experience. The ‘Peter Pan Syndrome’ demonstrates elements of exploitation on behalf of the company, with the recurring use of the phrase ‘will watch anything’ indicating that teenagers are seen to act with one mind. Though they used actors, directors and screenwriters who were far younger than the large studios and producers, and represented the teenage years as different to the years of childhood, there were no further insights into the experience itself.

The development of the teen genre since its origins can be seen as a revision in the construction of on-screen teenage identities. Before 1955, the representation of young characters in popular cinema would be categorised as either adults or children, with no particular attention given to the teenage years. On occasion older children would be depicted in serious dramas – including Captains Courageous (Victor Fleming, 1937), Angels with Dirty Faces (Michael Curtiz, 1938), and Kim (Victor Saville, 1950) – and demonstrate maturity beyond their years in order to overcome their situation. These ‘children’ are atypical and different to their peers, acting in extraordinary situations. These films are also significant in regards to genre as they belong to various genres, including the gangster film and melodrama, and comply with genre conventions without presenting the characters’ ages as a significant motivation for their behaviour.

The distinction between the representations of children and of teenagers is not made in every study of these depictions. Neither is there always a clear distinction of genre amongst the films in which these characters are the protagonists. Ian Wojcik-Andrews’ Children’s Films: History, Ideology, Pedagogy, Theory absorbs all depictions of teenagers into the wider category of children’s films. This study makes no distinctions between the films under discussion, be they live action and animation, or based on the issues and characters represented in each individual film. The study makes no distinctions based on the age of the characters featured in various films despite including films depicting characters ranging from birth to the age of nineteen.[5] Wojcik-Andrews discusses Victor Saville’s film Kim in detail, with the analysis taking a political and ideological perspective (and the presentation of these complex ideas in a children’s film) but with no analysis of the character of Kim himself as a young, white, teenage boy living rough in the India of the British Empire. There is also no contextualisation of the period or industry of the film’s production, or their emotional and dramatic content. In addition in the analysis of 1980s actors, under the heading ‘child stars’ Drew Barrymore’s performance in E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (Steven Spielberg, 1982) is placed alongside that of Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club (John Hughes, 1985), despite the fact that Barrymore was seven-years old and Nelson was twenty-five when their respective films were released (Wojcik-Andrews 2000, 102-103).

The division between teen-centred films and those for children began in the post-war years in the middle of the twentieth century. In her article on American texts focussed on teenage girls in this period Mary Celeste Kearney discusses the teen-centred media products of the time as a means of rejuvenating the nation:

We might argue… that the considerable attention to teen-centric narratives, characters, and actors by each entertainment industry in the 1940s and the early 50s was related to its desire to remodel its industrial image as energized, efficient, and progressive during a promising, but uncertain, socioeconomic period (Kearney 2004, 274).

However, the cinema trailer for Blackboard Jungle depicted American teenagers as a social and moral threat, describing the film’s content as ‘big city modern savagery’, with teenagers as wild animals out of control. This contrasts with the marketing of Rebel without a Cause, which emphasised the film’s emotional power, the social issues it addressed, and the actors’ performances. The film’s publicity made use of its leading actor James Dean’s star persona by referencing his performance in the film East of Eden (Elia Kazan, 1955) which had opened earlier in the year. Richard Dyer categorises Dean as a ‘generation gap’ rebel, whose characters in these two films are positioned in psychologically damaging family environments (Dyer 1979, 60-1). It is arguable that the presence of star power in the teen genre began with Dean – who is often evoked in the troubled teenage characters that followed him – but has continued with iconic figures such as Sandra Dee in Gidget (Paul Wendkos, 1959), Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978), and Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles (John Hughes, 1984) and Pretty in Pink (Howard Deutch, 1986). Dee is remembered, wrongly according to Georganne Scheiner, ‘as the embodiment of the virginal, perky, uncomplicated, adolescent girl of the 1950s’ (Scheiner 2001, 87); Linda Williams positions Curtis as one in a long line of terrorised women in the horror genre (Williams 1991, 5) despite her role as Halloween’s ‘Final Girl’ and survivor as outlined by Carol J. Clover (1987, 202). Ringwald is seen as symbolic of the 1980s itself in her various roles in teen films which contained ‘emotional gravity for the youth of then and now that the actor has transcended her own existence to become a rare phenomenon – an image that encapsulates a moment’ (Lee 2010, 56). The repeated use of familiar actors in archetypal roles brings a clear association between actor and role which is difficult to shake, be it due to the actor’s tragic death as in Dean’s case, or a marked decline in popularity after an initial phase of stardom as with Ringwald.

The study of youth culture adds to the analysis of teenage representations. Bill Osgerby outlines early examples of marketing campaigns targeting a youthful demographic. These became prominent in Britain during the Victorian era, due to the high numbers of young people in full employment, ‘The Victorian era saw an emergence of a nascent mass-entertainment industry geared to an urban working class whose disposable income and leisure time were gradually being extended’ (Osgerby 2004, 17). The rise in the youth market was a reaction to the youthful workforce who earned enough money to pay their household costs (as many were still living in the family home) as well as being able to afford additional entertainments. Here we see that the recognition of the youth market as a viable demographic target for businesses long before the early days of popular cinema. Despite this, the culture of the younger generation was rarely seen as a subject in films before the 1950s, and even in this period there was a tendency for films discussing teenagers to consider them as a social problem or as a sub-narrative to the primary narrative of the adult characters.

The turning point concerning the economic development of the young is usually located during the 1950s, in reaction to the end of the Second World War, ‘In both Britain and America ‘teenage’ culture was configured as the harbinger of a modern consumer culture in which the ‘old’ boundaries of class and economic inequality were perceived as steadily disappearing’ (Osgerby 2004, 9). The discussion focuses on the economic factors of youth culture rather than the fictional representation of youth; however this was the culture being represented and its expansion became part of the image presented. In order to maintain the illusion of modernity, cinema not only represented youth culture but became part of youth’s cultural expression. Affluence and the desire or resentment of affluence was a recurring theme in 1980s teen films with the financial and apparent class divisions amongst high school students driving many of the emotional conflicts and allegiances featured in the narratives.[6]

As filmmakers continued to produce teen films, the films became milestones within teen culture. The genre was a constant in film production and as Osgerby notes, ‘the 1980s saw the youth market survive as a mainstay of media and consumer industries’ (Osgerby 2004, 33). The various strands of the genre allowed a development but demonstrate similar representations of teen culture. The teenage consumer culture on which Osgerby focuses is depicted in the films of the period, such as Fast Times at Ridgemont High (Amy Heckerling, 1982) where the majority of the film’s young characters work or socialise in the local shopping mall. The film opens and closes at this location, which adds to the film’s claim of presenting a realistic view of the teenage experience. Osgerby notes that films such as ‘The Breakfast Club (1985) and St. Elmo’s Fire (1985) heralded a succession of self-absorbed ‘Brat Pack’ films’ (ibid). The Brat Pack films targeted a specifically young demographic and spoke to this audience in a language that they understood, on subjects that would be of interest. Despite the complaints that the films were trivial in subject matter, depicting selfish and ‘self-absorbed’ characters (brats), there was a feeling that these films connected with their audience. Many of the criticisms came from cultural commentators and film reviewers the majority of whom were far from adolescent, which only served to reinforce the generation gap depicted in the films themselves.

Timothy Shary’s study Generation Multiplex looks at the development of the Hollywood teen genre from the 1970s until the end of the twentieth century. This analysis of the contemporary teen film focuses on the representation of teenage culture as well as the representation of the teenagers themselves:

Various film trends catering to young audiences had emerged over past generations, but movies in the last 20 years of the century appeared almost fixated on capturing certain youth styles and promoting certain perspectives on the celebration (or really, survival) of adolescence (Shary 2002, 1).

The appearance of young protagonists has grown steadily, with the vast majority of blockbuster films featuring characters across several age groups in order to appeal to the widest possible audience.[7] These films are based more on spectacle than on detailed characterisation and the teenage characters are most recognisable for being “teenagers” and little more, with the clichés that the teenage character might present.[8] Shary continues on the flaws in the characterisation of teenagers: ‘[t]he assumption seemed to be that adults could portray the youth experience based on their personal memories and current observations; the only creative input young people actually had was in performing the roles adults had designed for them’ (Shary 2005, 2). On these occasions there was a desire to depict teenage characters, but no need for these characters to be an accurate portrayal of the teenage experience. By the 1950s there was an element of realism in the portrayal as the big studios began producing films for the younger market based on contemporary social issues. These films depicted teenage angst and confusion, which gave a new perspective on the emotional side of adolescence, and became a convention of the teen genre in the decades that followed.

Shary’s focus is the period of film production in America from 1980 to 1999 which overlaps with the focus of this thesis, and teen films in the later half of this period were dominated to some degree by literary adaptation. The industry has always looked to literature for inspiration and in the 1990s this was a creatively potent aspect of the teen genre. Blossoming in the mid-90s with the films Clueless (Amy Heckerling, 1995) (an adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma, though this point is not highlighted in the film itself or its promotional material) and William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet (Baz Luhrmann, 1996). These were followed by a series of films that transported classical literature to the modern day high school, including: 10 Things I Hate About You (Gil Junger, 1999), Cruel Intentions (Roger Kumble, 1999), She’s All That (Robert Iscove, 1999), Crime and Punishment in Suburbia (Rob Schmidt, 2000), O (Tim Blake Nelson, 2001), and She’s the Man (Andy Fickman, 2006). These films are adaptations of: The Taming of the Shrew (William Shakespeare), Les Liaisons Dangereuses (Choderlos de Laclos), Pygmalion (George Bernard Shaw), Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky), Othello and Twelfth Night (Shakespeare again). The adaptation of these various plays and novels into a single genre, allows the diverse narratives to be united by location, characters’ ages, and themes of emotional development. The act of adapting a canonical text – or borrowing the texts basic narrative – to a contrasting genre has been common in cinema, as it allows filmmakers to experiment with familiar texts in popular formats.[9] It is the familiarity of the narrative and its characters that allows the bare frame to be sufficient to hold the additional genre iconography, and function as effectively as the original text.

Numerous papers and articles have been written on the art of adaptation in the contemporary teen genre, many arising from literary studies.[10] Special attention is given to those films that re-work Shakespeare and Jane Austen with many praising the new treatment of an old text,[11] whilst others are baffled by the fact that the text should be re-worked at all and balking at the combination of high and low culture as seen here. The question is raised: should canonical literature be adapted to the modern world? However, the answer can be divided based predominantly on whether modernisation of the text places its cultural value in peril. Linda E. Boose and Richard Burt (both Professors of English) describe the situation of adaptations and Shakespearian references in contemporary American Cinema, in their analysis of William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet. The film is criticised not only for the director’s lack of experience,[12] the casting of two young television actors,[13] and the marketing of the film to a young audience through a website and through heavy promotion on MTV and the use of music by popular artists such as Radiohead and Butthole Surfers (Boose and Burt 1997, 17-18). These elements are judged as inappropriate, demeaning the Shakespearian text by promoting it as a piece of populist cinema, as a teen film rather than as something of higher value. Many of the criticisms seem unfair at a basic level, as all films targeting broad audiences receive significant levels of advertising and make use of the means available which in the mid-90s included the growing use on on-line promotion with an official website placing the film alongside its cinematic peers. The article implies that Shakespearian adaptations – and potentially adaptations from other canonical authors – deserve special treatment.

Adaptations of Jane Austen suffer similar criticism as adaptations of Shakespeare. Ellen Moody’s review of an article by John R. Greenfield praising the film Clueless as an adaptation of Emma (Austen 1816) states that, ‘Greenfield neglects to concede how much of a sheer teen film this is; the lure of analogy is far more a matter of some surface likeness, and minor plot points than it is of characterization, theme, or mood’ (Moody 2003). The connection to the teen film is raised as a negative, impairing the qualities and reputation of the original text by linking it to a low form. Moody attacks the work of adaptation in Clueless, for the same reasons that others have praised it, in its maintaining of the themes, characters and tone of the original novel (Moody 2003, note 4). Numerous articles have praised the film for its updating of issues such as the British social class system – a theme present in countless canonical works – and social interactions. Lesley Stern sees the teen genre and its ‘predominantly feminine consciousness’ as a fitting lens through which Amy Heckerling can revisit Austen’s world, ‘Like Austen she asks – what are the preoccupations, language, courting and/or dating rituals, fashion mores of a wealthy and privileged group of young people?’ (Stern 1997). Here we see an acceptance of the teen genre, as a means of reconsidering texts in the contemporary world, by looking at the lives of current young characters from similar social backgrounds.

The work of John Hughes in the 1980s has had an undeniable influence on the films and television programmes that have followed, even when those films were working against the image that Hughes’s films perpetuated (Kaveney 2006, 11). The six films that Roz Kaveney discusses are seen as having defined the genre at this time by emphasising – or possibly intentionally over-emphasising – the feelings of the teenage characters as well as providing a sense of familiarity for their audience through recurring actors, archetypal characters and locations across several films:

The Hughes films all take place in Illinois suburbs and thus suburbia became one of the standard expectations; they have a tendency to favour outsiders and underdogs, and so this became a standard expectation, even where it’s one that is often subverted through revisionist approaches (Kaveney 2006, 3).

Others too have noted the shadow of Hughes, Rachel Moseley refers to the standard form established by Hughes in teen sit-coms such as Saved by the Bell (1989-1993), ‘six archetypal teen characters familiar from successful early 1980s’ teenpics like The Breakfast Club (Hughes 1985) – the preppy type, the jock, the nerd, the fashion queen, the cheerleader, the A-grade student’ (Moseley 2008, 52). The recognisable format and the archetypal characters are present in countless examples and cross the boundaries of film and television easily. Though Kaveney’s admiration of Hughes’s work is apparent, and her understanding of its relevance to the genre is clear, elements of her analysis seem unbalanced. Whilst complimenting Hughes in relation to the teen genre she also draws comparisons with films from outside the genre; and though The Breakfast Club is an important film within its niche it compares badly with more ‘important films’ which Kaveney notes as sharing similar structural boundaries – that is ‘closed-community dramas’ such as Twelve Angry Men (Sidney Lumet, 1957) and Black Narcissus (Michael Powell, 1947) (Kaveney 2006, 13). It is unsurprising that the film fares so badly when Kaveney insists on comparing it to widely revered “masterworks” of cinema, as though acknowledging that teen films may be relevant to their audience but should also have their place. This undermines Kaveney’s argument, which had up until this point advocated the quality of work present in teen films, and as seen above, the importance of Hughes’s position in the genre, ‘The mere fact that films consciously imitated him, or consciously subverted tropes that he established, is crucial to the existence of teen films as a genre rather than merely a marketing niche’ (Kaveney 2006, 12). The development of the promotion of teen films to a teen audience in the thirty years between Blackboard Jungle to The Breakfast Club, allowed the filmmakers and their producers to mount strategic campaigns focussing on a film or television series’ more lurid aspects as a means of drawing an audiences attention.

The ability to shock through the representation of carefree and immoral – or possibly amoral – youth in films and on television is still surprising, and still popular. The reactions to films as diverse as Catherine Hardwick’s Thirteen (2003) and the series of sequels that followed American Pie (Paul Weitz, 1999),[14] and television programmes such as Skins (2007- present) in Britain – each representing different ‘adult’ aspects of teenage behaviour and activities, including sex, drugs and emotional cruelty – ably demonstrates that parental concerns over their children’s activities can be multiplied through stylistically produced and effectively marketed drama. Whether these films or dramas are viewed as ‘cool’ or not, they are no closer to a meaningful representation of adolescence than the more mythological examples of teenagers (human, supernaturally gifted, or alien) fighting monsters and demons, which has become an increasingly common sub-genre.[15]

In summarising the representation of teenagers on television Moseley indicates the importance of early pop music broadcasts in drawing in a teenage audience (Moseley 2008, 52). The development of television for a young audience may have begun with programmes such as Ready, Steady, Go! (1963-66) and Top of the Pops (1964-2006) in Britain, before the global domination of MTV began in 1981, but today’s market is overwhelmed by variety from situation comedies and angst-filled dramas to make-over shows and fly-on-the-wall documentaries. The origins of teen interest television in music programmes was of benefit not only to programme-makers but also the music industry, guaranteeing audiences for the programmes and providing exposure for artists with something to sell. Investigations into the representations of youth and youth culture in British television discuss the 1980s phenomena of ‘Yoof TV’ which rose partly in reaction to MTV in America.[16] Though not exclusively produced for or by teenagers this trend in television production did cater to younger audiences on a wide range of topics including travel, fashion, music and general pop culture. Karen Lury’s analysis of this genre of television discusses how it also embraced ideas of postmodernism in its ‘celebration of mass culture’ but also the influence of money and saleability: ‘It is suggested that commodification (and therefore post-modernism) offers a potential threat to genuine expression as it is seen to lead, inevitably to a homogenization of cultures and identities’ (Lury 2001, 5). These programmes may have been pushing youth culture and interests, but they also promoted a certain lifestyle involving gap years travelling the world; attainable, affordable hedonism; and the dominance of popular culture products such as films, video games and television.

The rise in output from the teen genre across numerous media formats since the 1980s has been notable with television dramas such as Beverly Hills 90210 (1989-2000) and My So-called Life (1994) building on the foundation of John Hughes and his imitators.[17] The teenage market has also been targeted by a flood of TV channels, magazines, and, with the rise of the internet, social networking sites such as My Space, Facebook and Twitter. The academic interest in teenagers and teenage culture has also increased with works published on the activities of youth and on the representation of the younger generation in films, television and in wider culture, and their role as an audience and as a viable market. The marketing of films to teenage cinema-goers in the 1950s and 1960s influenced the targeting of teenagers as consumers of mass-media, allowing media technology and marketing to evolve. Jon Lewis notes how the entertainment industry began to target the youth market soon after cultural historians and sociologists took notice of the ‘phenomenon of youth culture’ (Lewis 1992, 3). Lewis also notes the difficulty of studying youth culture without taking business into consideration, ‘we must focus on the essential paradox of youth as both mass movement and mass market’ (ibid). By the 1980s films were sold alongside additional products such as music (either soundtrack albums or singles associated with certain films[18]), or posters, and video releases. Valerie Wee outlines the situation in the 1990s, when the marketing and promotion within teen-oriented culture drew on multiple media and distribution outlets, ‘motivated by the American media industries’ unprecedented acceleration towards multi-media conglomeration during which media corporations expanded their holdings and interests across film, television, music, publishing, retail and the Internet’ (Wee 2004, 89). The position of the 1990s as a turning point in the teen genre is combined with the introduction of the internet as a new media power as well as a popular means of interaction amongst the teenage demographic.

Wee continues, by arguing that in the 1990s a teen show was more than simply a television programme, ‘In addition to product multiplication, the synergistic and cross-promotional activities characteristic of 1990s’ teen culture also revolved around the development of the crossover appeal of specific teen-identified personalities’ (Wee 2004, 91). The crossover status of many performers within teen culture, whose careers allowed them to move easily between film, television and music, indicates the fluid nature of the term. The young actors on popular American television teen dramas would be occupied starring in teen genre films in the breaks between production seasons,[19] whilst others would dabble in music producing glossy mainstream pop in their free time.[20]

The marketing of films and albums based on the stars of teen TV affected a synergy of mainstream teen cultural products, added to further by the rise of the internet and on-line discussions of the programmes and their stars as well as the means of purchasing products connected to the individual show from music to the clothes worn by the individual characters. Will Brooker’s article ‘Living on Dawson’s Creek: Teen viewers, cultural convergence, and television overflow’, discusses the experience of Dawson’s Creek (1998-2003) as developing beyond the boundaries of an episodic narrative:

While fans must return to this week’s episode for reference, the show is apparently intended to serve as the starting point for further activity rather than as an isolated, self-contained cultural artefact. Instead of waiting for the next instalment, the fan is invited to extend the show’s pleasures, to allow the show into her everyday life beyond the scheduling framework (Brooker 2001, 461).

The encouragement of fan participation in activities of analysis around the series and its characters reflects the themes of analysis within the series itself. The series Dawson’s Creek created by Kevin Williamson, is a clear descendant of the work of John Hughes, where verbosity about the teenage experience and investigation of emotional reactions to the issues of love, relationships and ageing appear time and again. What is notable in Williamson’s work is that over the course of a television drama series he has the time to magnify and investigate these issues across dozens of hours of broadcast time. Matt Hills outlines the programme’s attitude towards the teenager:

If part of teen identity, and part of teen TV, involves managing the wider stigmatisation or even pathologisation of ‘the teen’ in adult society, then Dawson’s Creek attempts to powerfully revalue discourses of ‘the teenager’. By stressing teen agency and articulacy, Dawson’s Creek seeks to align itself with cultural systems of value that credit individual agency, self-mastery and self-expression. It carries out these textual moves by ‘therapeutising’ its teen characters and their relationships (Hills 2004, 54).

The adult attitude of the characters towards mutual and self-analysis at each point of their emotional, physical, and psychological development indicates Williamson’s Hughes-esque respect for the individual characters’ intellect. The characters’ ability to effectively articulate their feelings is combined with the more conventional examples of angst associated with the genre. Though each teenage character is concerned with issues of school, relationships and the future, their ability to discuss these issues is surprisingly developed even if the resolution of each dilemma is as open-ended as in any other series. Hills also discusses the idea of teen programmes as ‘Quality TV’ following – though not explicitly referencing – the work of Robert J. Thompson of valuable television drama.[21] Programmes such as Dawson’s Creek provided their characters with effective, cultured voices, and Hills argues that this ‘hyper-articulacy’ is an attempt to position these dramas as valuable: ‘the programme can align itself with cultural ideas of self-transparency, reflexivity and agency. Quality teen TV is, perhaps, not only about textual self-reflexivity or self-referentiality, it is also about the reflexivity that the teen characters display’ (Hills 2004, 59). During the production of Dawson’s Creek its creator was also writing screenplays for teen films in a similar authorial voice, including the first two instalments of the Scream franchise (Wes Craven, 1996-2000) and The Faculty (Robert Rodriguez, 1998). Within the structure of a television series Williamson was able to refer to the same texts in Dawson’s Creek as he was in these films and on occasion, refer to the films themselves (visually or verbally), within the narrative of a single episode.[22]

Outside America the teen drama is still a valuable form, and despite many American influences is still representative of the community and generation it features. In Britain, the legacy of Grange Hill, created in 1978 by Phil Redmond, is clear in the numerous school-based dramas that followed.[23] However, the dramas based around groups of teenagers in Britain have tended to be classified as ‘children’s television’ – partly due to the scheduling of these programmes in the late afternoon instead of in the evening – rather than being considered as something separate.[24] Other dramas such as Byker Grove (1989-2006) and Press Gang (1989-93), were mostly set outside of the school gates – at a youth club and youth newspaper office respectively – but were still concerned with the issues surrounding the adolescent experience. There have been a few programmes that have broken out of the children’s television category, but they have tended to draw heavily on other established genres in order to gain an initial audience. The soap opera Hollyoaks (1995- present) – also created by Phil Redmond – features characters of all ages but its focus on the teenagers since the start has positioned it as a “teen soap”. Also, its scheduling between the established hours of children’s programming and the primetime soaps reaffirms its position as not one or the other, neither for children or adults, therefore for teenagers.[25] The role of scheduling is a vital one in the categorising of a programme on British television especially in the years before the rise of digital television when the small number of analogue channels left little room for niche programming.

In Australia, the drama series Heartbreak High (1994-99), whilst set in a Sydney high school, maintained the conventions of the genre in the use of archetypal characters and the school location that have previously been identified in the American and British examples of the genre. As described by Kate Douglas and Kelly McWilliam: ‘[a]ll of the standard markers of ‘rebellious youth’ are evident: music in the corridors, student-teacher conflicts, a bully senior teacher, detention, graffiti and, more seriously, drug abuse, racism, violence, homophobia and poverty’ (Douglas; McWilliam 2004, 153). The series also made great advances in the representation of multiculturalism in Australia with a diverse cast playing the students and teachers, and numerous scenes in each episode depicting the different cultural aspects of the individuals’ home lives. Douglas and McWilliam elaborate on the wider implications of this representation of contemporary Australia:

The use of Australian ideals in characterising both Hartley High and its students serves a number of purposes. First, it displaces other markers of difference, and locates Heartbreak High teens, particularly non-Anglo teens, as ‘real Aussies’. Indeed, in some ways, it rewrites national character: in Heartbreak High the ‘Aussie battler’ – quintessentially white, male, heterosexual and adult – is rewritten as non-Anglo, non-gender-specific, non-sexuality-specific, and adolescent. This locates teen identities, especially non-Anglo teen identities, as nationally valuable. It also, in some ways, ‘culturally exoticises’ them by associating their cultural capital with their difference from Australian representational norms. Second, these ‘ideal Australian’ values function to frame potentially rebellious or antisocial student behaviour within the context of broader values and institutions (Douglas and McWilliam 2004, 157).

The changing face of Australia seen here was also in marked contrast with other images of young Australians, specifically the image that was exported through soap operas that focussed on younger characters such as Neighbours (1985- present) and Home and Away (1988- present) which achieved great popularity in Britain amongst teenage audiences. Neither series has ever been particularly realistic in its depictions of multiculturalism, even though Neighbours is based in a suburb of a large city.[26] There have been characters from various cultural backgrounds including Asian, Italian and Greek – on one occasion Neighbours even featured an Englishman of Afro-Caribbean decent – but these characters have always been in the minority, and both series have always favoured white-Anglo families. The inclusion of Aborigines has also been minimal, with no long term recurring characters representing this significant proportion of Australia’s cultural identity, and despite the series being located in the suburbs of Melbourne, it rarely features the members of the cities extensive Greek community.[27] The whiteness of Neighbours, and to some degree Home and Away, is challenged by other teen productions from Australia but especially in Heartbreak High where the ethnic and cultural diversity of the high school student represents the future of the country and the new generation of Australians that is to come.

Returning to the American teen drama, one of the most widely discussed examples of teen TV over the past decade is Joss Whedon’s series Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003), a series so inspirational to the academic mind that it has spawned it own branch of cultural analysis know as Buffy Studies. The series has inspired various works throughout the academy, but especially the field of television studies ranging from the role of humour to the depiction of witchcraft. Though much of Buffy Studies is formed through a lens of feminism, as the series concerns a contemporary teenage girl who is also a warrior in the fight against demons and vampires, this is not a simple realisation even when analysed as a ‘post gaze’ series: ‘Buffy is a feminist spectator’s dream. There is, however, one major caveat – she is so very cute it is often difficult to get beyond her physicality’ (Millard Daugherty 2003, 149). The questioning of the series’ feminist assertion, due to the attractiveness of the lead actress, was a constant factor during its period of broadcast as well as in academic deconstructions. Whether the physique of the character diminishes the feminist nature of her actions has been debated in detail, but the reality of the television industry is a constant factor. The physical nature of Buffy Summers is a necessity as it is difficult to slay vampires whilst remaining inactive, and the attractiveness of the actress who plays her is simply a reality of the television industry that would baulk at the idea of casting a less than attractive actress in the lead role of a new series.

Rhonda V. Wilcox and David Lavery make a claim for the series as Quality TV, by making specific reference to the work of Thompson, and working through nine of Thompson’s twelve points to support its case, such as the pedigree of those involved, the use of an ensemble cast, textual memory, and the importance of the writing and use of literary references. The issue of language and humour in Buffy has also been discussed. Steve Wilson noted on the show’s use of humour that, ‘Any episode may contain influences as far-reaching as bawdy Greek farce to brainy post-modern theatre in a steady flow of absurdity that switches from low-brow to high-brow at the drop of a stake” (Wilson 2003, 84). There is often a sense of surprise that a programme apparently designed for teenagers is capable of referencing the high-brow, as there is in the analysis of teen films adapting canonical literature, which I have already discussed. Wilson notes the ability of certain writers and directors to play with language in the teen genre:

Writers of any self-respecting teen show or movie routinely lace their lines with the latest slang, possibly even coining a few new phrases or words in the process so long as it sounds like the way teens speak. Buffy’s writers have apparently never felt this obligation. Their dialogue is only loosely based on the reality of how anyone of any age communicates (Wilson 2003, 92-93).

The issue is also addressed by Rhonda Wilcox:

The striking differentiation of the teen language in Buffy has often been commented on. The language of the teens starkly contrasts with that of the adults. This linguistic separateness emphasizes the lack of communication between the generations, as does the series’ use of the symbolism of monsters to represent social problems (Wilcox 2005, 18).

Wilcox goes on to describe the ‘foreign language of adulthood’ (Wilcox 2005, 28), which is far more formal and yet easy to replicate. The constant stream of communication between the teenage and adult generations in Buffy the Vampire Slayer as with any teen series needs to be understood fully, even when the occasional use of terminology may baffle, but the language of the teenagers is one that will be grown out of to some degree.[28] Though the main characters’ dialogue does not change the instant they leave their teenage years – as the series follows them from the age of sixteen to their early twenties – the slang is more intense in the earlier seasons, before they take on the responsibilities of adulthood.

The language of Buffy the Vampire Slayer has also been interpreted more formally in Michael Adams’s lexicon of the series, Slayer Slang. The lexicon comprises not merely a collection of quotes of dialogue from the series, it contains a breakdown and history of how slang (mostly American slang) is formed as well as other philological and etymological insights, a formal glossary of terms and phrases, and also the appropriation of such terms and phrases by others, specifically in the language used by fans when posting messages on the discussion board on the series’ popular fan website The Bronze. In simple terms this goes towards demonstrating the influence of Buffy-speak. Adams summarises the achievements of the programme’s dialogue in creating ‘a vivid snapshot of current American teen slang’ (Adams 2003, 21). The series’ writers often state that the primary influence on the dialogue of the series was the verbal style of the programme’s creator Joss Whedon.[29] The characters’ slang is formed from a variety of sources, allowing the writers to refer to a broad selection of cultural texts within the dialogue, as referred to by Wilson, and reaffirmed by Adams:

[S]layer style, first the literary style of the show’s writers, becomes a public example as the style of the show’s characters, and ultimately composes the style of the entire Buffyverse, as slayer slang becomes, not only the means to community, but finding an individual voice within that community (Adams 2003, 44).

The individuality of the programme’s dialogue spreads outwards and influences not only the teen shows that followed but also potentially the language and knowledge of the audience. Rather than imitating the language of contemporary teenager, the series builds upon it, creating a language less constrained by its specific era of production. However, the association of a specific linguistic style with a genre is heightened by examples such as this where not only the series but the series creator is identifiable in the dialogue. The intertextual and literary references of Whedon or the introspective verbosity of Kevin Williamson are associated with the teen genre due to the popularity of their programmes and the emphasis on eloquent self-expression in their characters. These programmes and programme-makers also pay tribute to the history of the teen genre, by referencing certain films and other television programmes in various episodes and in publicity materials and interviews. Both Whedon and Williamson built on the genre’s foundations and provided a new generation of actors, references and conventions that were then incorporated into the genre’s development.

Themes of representation and reception are apparent in the study of films and television programmes in contrasting national production contexts. As the genre continues the variety of perspectives for analysis grows allowing further detailed studies, however, the widest array of views are in shorter works featured in edited collections, with the longer analyses remaining rather general in focus. The analysis of language in the genre is still rather minimal, and as with the work of Adams focussed on a single television series or a short series of films. There is a sense of agreement in the studies of this genre of the key films and television programmes, those that warrant attention as well as the popular texts that cannot be ignored. It is also possible to track the key texts which inspired further study of the teen genre, such as the cycle of literary adaptations in the genre since 1995, and the study of teen dramas on television which began in the late 1990s following the broadcasts of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Dawson’s Creek.

Linguistic studies on language use

The discussion of linguistics in literary and sociological studies provides a broad base on which to build an analysis of language in film. The analysis of film dialogue in regards to representation is minimal and by combining different linguistic approaches, it is possible to regard not only the use of language in fictional texts but also its relation to actual language use in various communities and social contexts. In this section I will examine studies of language in literature, which look at the levels of meaning and understanding in interpreting the intention of the author as well as their characters. I will also consider the study of language in society, the ways in which communities converse, and the ways in which language alters within bilingual communities over the course of several generations. In addition, there will be an examination of youth culture and the role of language in identifying sub-cultures from an external position but also as part of the sub-cultures’ internal communication.

The theoretical framework for this study unites several sources including aspects of Mikhail Bakhtin’s work, language genres and language in the novel and how these can be applied to film studies. I will also be looking at Michael Halliday’s work on speech communities, as well as linguistic theories dealing with bilingual and multicultural communities, and more specifically works that discuss the relationship between cinema and linguistics. Despite the fact that there are numerous articles on film dialogue, these tend to focus on the dialogue within certain films or the works of one filmmaker,[30] and although they are useful they do not invite wider debate. By turning to theories that have arisen in literary or sociological studies, it is possible to acquaint oneself with another strain of debate and then adapting them to film studies.

In order to discuss language use in cinema it is necessary to separate attitudes towards verbal language (or studies of the ‘voice’ as in the work of Michel Chion), written language (screenwriting as analysed by Robert McKee or the writings of William Goldman) and language created on the screen such as genre iconography (Neale 2000, 12-14), or the visual style of an auteur director as discussed by Andrew Sarris in 1962 (Sarris 2000, 69). There are several common elements between the study of language in the novel or play and language in film. By looking at the linguistic conventions within the novel and film, there are multiple voices that arise in every line of dialogue, including: the voice of the character and the character’s community, as well as the voice of the author.

Robert Stam has stated that, ‘[t]he mainstream cinema, as countless commentators have pointed out, has shown itself to be the aesthetic and narrative heir of the nineteenth-century mimetic novel and the “well-made play”’ (Stam 1989, 10). If we see Stam’s statement as a possibility, it is also possible to adapt academic studies of the novel to a study of cinema. As a popular form of storytelling, cinema is capable of using language – verbally and visually – in order to create a relationship between the narrative and the audience. There are numerous differences between the page and the screen, and between written and spoken language, but both are dependent on a form of language (be it verbal, physical or written) to progress the narrative. Bakhtin outlined the different elements within the novel, including the narration of the author, the stylization of diverse everyday narration (skaz[31]), the stylisation of written narration as found in letters and diaries, and ‘extra-artistic authorial speech’.[32] Cinema utilizes these techniques as much as literature in order to convey narrative and in order to introduce characters. Of Bakhtin’s argument here my focus will predominantly be on the issue of the ‘stylistically individualized speech of characters’:

These heterogeneous stylistic unities, upon entering the novel, combine to form a structured artistic system, and are subordinated to the higher stylistic unity of the work as a whole, a unity that cannot be identified with any single one of the unities subordinated to it (Bakhtin 2004, 262).

Moving through Bakhtin’s argument, these five elements outline the structure of a contemporary film by introducing: the main narrative, the means of presenting the narrative, the use of voiceover to imply the words of a letter or diary entry, means of conveying the film’s message visually or verbally, and lastly the linguistic style unique to each character.[33] By focussing on the individualised speech of characters, and specifically the language use within groups of teenage characters, it is possible to analyse the ways in which these groups can be defined by their use of language. The language of these characters can identify the representation of one generation from another, their geographical location and the period in which they live. It also contributes to the overall synchronicity of a genre film by maintaining this sense of time and place.

By analysing this point we see that Bakhtin positions the individual’s verbal style within the context of the whole novel, and that though the voices of individuals are significant they are less important than the style of the author. The style of the individual operates as part of the overall style of the work, rather than the style of the whole being led by the voice of a single character. The character’s linguistic style or general language use can express a great deal about them as an individual or as part of a group but rarely does it lead the style of the entire film. Despite the fact that elements of each of Bakhtin’s points can be found within cinema as much as they are found within novels, in the teen genre the forms of self-expression on show are a vital aspect of the characters establishing their identities.

In his work of 1934-35 ‘Discourse in the novel’, Bakhtin discussed the significance of the ‘utterance’ as an active element of speech:

The process of centralization and decentralization, of unification and disunification, intersect in the utterance; the utterance not only answers the requirements of its own language as an individualized embodiment of a speech act, but it answers the requirement of heteroglossia as well (Bakhtin 2004, 272).

The utterance is a significant form within the novel as it is not only a statement made by an individual, but is also surrounded by countless possible (new and existing) interpretations. Bakhtin continues by discussing how an utterance is identifiable by the era and context in which it was written. The attention Bakhtin pays to the ‘fleeting language of the day’ (ibid) is as fitting in film as it is in the novel, with the need for language to be appropriate to the characters and their situation. Every statement gives information about the character speaking, and about the author behind it. The language used in every film is specific to a time and place, to an age and social group, and in one line of dialogue it is necessary to convey each of these elements in order to maintain verisimilitude in the character and their situation. In the teen genre, the use of generational slang and the vocabulary of specific social communities is a valuable resource in the construction and representation of character.

Each of the films discussed in this thesis features a significant representation of a social group, and each film’s protagonist is defined by the group around them, and by the language of this group. The group’s location within the community of the school – as well as in the home or amongst strangers – affects the cultural references that appear in their day to day language. Bakhtin continues by suggesting that the object of any discourse is already laden with arguments and values collected from existing debates, ‘any concrete discourse (utterance) finds the object at which it was directed already as it were overlain with qualifications, open to dispute, charged with value, already enveloped in an obscuring mist’ (Bakhtin 2004, 276). The effect of time on language works by adding layers of understanding to each utterance time after time, creating a site of meaning which is specific to each individual either in their understanding of the utterance itself or its relation to their own lives. Every utterance is full of meaning and is open to interpretation, with each interpretation being unique depending on the knowledge and understanding of the individual. An understanding of one sentence can arise from several elements or source of knowledge, either simply by understanding the language being spoken, the accent or dialect being used, an understanding that the sentence is a common phrase or a reference to a specific film or book and is therefore being stated as a direct quotation. Our understanding of language comes from our experiences, and with each new experience we extend our knowledge and therefore our use of language. In his work on Bakhtin and cinema, Stam noted how humans ‘grow into’ language rather than understanding language as an entity from birth, ‘Every apparently unified linguistic or social community is characterized by heteroglossia, whereby language becomes the space of confrontation of differently oriented social accents, as diverse “sociolinguistic consciousnesses” fight it out on the terrain of language’ (Stam 1989, 8).

The differentiation between communities is aided by contrasting linguistic styles and allows smaller communities to distinguish themselves as unique; members of these communities can also prolong and adapt their community’s language through continued use. Stam’s view of endless linguistic diversity also presents the concept of universality, that anyone can learn a language and shape that language through their individual utterances. Two individuals from entirely different backgrounds speaking the same basic language can communicate without much difficulty and though their contrasting uses of terminology or slang may cause some confusion they are still able to convey their meaning. Communication between communities is possible – though can be problematic – due to the various interpretations of meaning in any statement, however these numerous languages exist and develop simultaneously. Language use is affected by situation with one form of language dominating and then being replaced as the situation alters. It is possible to see the influences from the creative media such as film, television, art, literature and music in daily conversation from the words used to the subjects under discussion.

In Children Talking Television, David Buckingham’s analysis of media literacy amongst children discusses the need for shared understanding amongst the users of media forms, ‘[b]oth television and written language are forms of communication: they are both methods of conveying or signifying meaning, which are used in different ways by different social agents in different social and cultural contexts’ (Buckingham 1993, 24-25). As with Stam’s discussion of learning language, this understanding needs to be learned rather than being an innate skill, and are constantly changing.

The media communicates through language, and our understanding of these communications depends on a combination of our social situation and cultural background. Not every individual understands the same image or statement in the same way, and so when we see a series of images or statements being presented together there are numerous possible interpretations. In similar vein to Bakhtin and Stam, Buckingham refers to the endless diversity of language and of understanding, based on the background of the individual and the cultural context within which the text is situated. Through a growing understanding of potential meanings and the means of conveying these meanings, children develop a literacy with which they can understand media sources and demonstrate this understanding to others.

The diversity of understanding by the user of the text is often in conflict with the original meaning of the text’s author/ authors. In his seminal work on interpreting media texts, ‘Encoding/ Decoding’, Stuart Hall stated that:

The codes of encoding and decoding may not be perfectly symmetrical. The degrees of symmetry – that is, the degree of ‘understanding’ and ‘misunderstanding’ in the communicative exchange – depend on the degrees of symmetry/ asymmetry (relations of equivalence) established between the positions of the ‘personifications’ encoder-producer and the decoder-receiver (Hall 1980, 131).

The multitude of interpretations of a single symbol or sign are drawn from the understanding and cultural backgrounds of the individuals receiving them. By examining the media literacy of children Buckingham is investigating how and when we build our understanding of these meanings. Do we learn to understand the structure of how the media provides information from experience, or from our family upbringing, or socially? As the media and media technologies continue to evolve, our capacity to interpret the media must learn to keep up with these changes.

The diversity of British culture was the subject of the 1976 collection Resistance through Rituals: Youth Sub-cultures in Post-war Britain, edited by Stuart Hall and Tony Jefferson. The collection is an investigation of the different social communities that emerged amongst youths and teenagers following the Second World War, as this category of British culture began receiving greater attention, either as a social problem or as a subject of study: ‘“Youth” provided the focus for official reports, pieces of legislation, official interventions… Youth played an important role as a cornerstone in the construction of understandings, interpretations and quasi-explanations about the period’ (Clarke, Hall, Jefferson and Roberts 1976, 9). The various articles discuss such sub-cultures as Teddy boys, Mods, Punks and Skinheads, and often discuss the role of social class in relation to self-expression. The issue of youth as a social problem is borne out of the working-class status of many of the members of these sub-cultures. These means of self-expression and of group membership are based within working youths, rather than members of the same generation who progressed from their school years to university. The discussion of sub-cultures places the members within the wider community, as members of the same groups, schools and communities; they ‘belong’ despite the fact that they ‘may walk, talk, act, look ‘different’ from their parents and from some of their peers’ (Clarke, Hall, Jefferson and Roberts 1976, 14).

The discussion of what constitutes a sub-culture continues into the specific nature of communication between the members, ‘Sometimes, the world is marked out, linguistically, by names or an argot which classifies the social world exterior to them in terms meaningful only within their group perspective, and maintains its boundaries’ (Clarke, Hall, Jefferson and Roberts 1976, 47). The sub-cultures and their members as investigated here are predominantly depicted as working-class, white and male. Though one article (by Angela McRobbie and Jenny Garber) addresses the marginalised nature of female members of various sub-cultures in the other analyses, it does little to rebalance the work as a whole. The dominant whiteness amongst the various groups – though the collection does feature the article ‘Reggae, Rastas, and Rudies’ by Dick Hebdige, the focus here is mostly on the history of the movement in the West Indies – does little to discuss the growing multicultural nature of Britain in the second-half of the twentieth century.

Marie Gillespie’s Television, Ethnicity and Cultural Change looked at the cultural influences on the children of Punjabi families living in south London between 1988 and 1991. Gillespie focussed especially on their use of television, and its effect on their cultural identities. Her analysis raised the issue that television provides representation of both the British and Indian cultures relevant to the youth of Southall in London, ‘who, though British citizens, do not always feel themselves to be part of the British nation, and, though of Indian heritage and Punjabi background, are often less than willing to embrace all aspects of their cultural heritage’ (Gillespie 1995, 76). These British Asian teenagers divide their time between their families and friends, demonstrating two sides to their identities – that of their British lives and the cultural traditions of the Punjabi community. These two sides are also apparent in their use of television. Firstly, amongst friends, their discussion of television focuses on popular programmes, especially soap operas; and secondly, within the family, they learn about their cultural heritage by watching programming from India. In addition to this they spend a lot of time translating details of British culture to their older relatives, especially their grandparents. These acts demonstrate a sense of maturity and involvement in the family’s culture which allows them to be treated more like adults by the older generations of their family (Gillespie 1995, 114). This method of using television adds to the teenagers’ education, and indicates skill and maturity and the responsibilities of the younger generation of an immigrant family. The teenagers’ use of bilingualism allows them to translate the British culture depicted on television to the older generations. In order to do this they use their understanding of two languages and two cultures equally, in order to move easily from one to another. By operating equally in two languages these teenagers are demonstrating an ability to convey the two sides of their identity within a single context as well as acquiring a fluency in ‘cultural translation’:

Growing up in Southall involves learning to translate both literally – as young people translate British TV news to their elders – and, at the same, metaphorically, as they must acquire skills in negotiating from context to context between various cultures and various positions within each (Gillespie 1995, 207).

The situation of living in a multicultural community highlights the ability to move seamlessly between two individual cultures and to connect them together. The teenagers in Gillespie’s study adapt their identities to their situation in the same way as they adapt their language when speaking to their friends or their parents and grandparents. The division of identity between family and friends is a recognisable one to most teenagers, but in this situation the division is based on more than general behaviour, as it includes aspects of the language that they should be speaking, the means of conveying attitude within different languages, and cultural traditions.

Even though there are countless studies of language in multicultural communities, it is more difficult to find work on the representation of it on the screen. One element that affects this is that a number of the teen films on the subject focus on the characters and events but not the use of language. Several articles investigate the characters’ cultural situation but not their means of verbal self-expression. The British-Asian community is the subject of myriad films and television dramas in Britain that are the products of the same creative figures time after time, including: Hanif Kureishi, Meera Syal and Gurinder Chadha. There are moments that echo Gillespie’s findings, depicting teenage characters balancing duty to their families with their personal interests and ambitions; an alteration in behaviour between their time at home and socialising with friends; and a sense of verisimilitude in the way their language adapts to these changing situations.

Michael Halliday described the process of learning the purpose of language during early childhood, and its central role in a child’s development:

Language is the main channel through which the patterns of living are transmitted to him, through which he learns to act as a member of ‘society’ – in and through the various social groups, the family, the neighbourhood, and so on – and to adopt its ‘culture’, its modes of thought and action, its beliefs and its values (Halliday 1978, 9).

A child is taught how to behave, what to say and how to say it, according to the morality and customs of the society in which they are raised. Culture is explained to the child and the child finds their place in the community, amongst their family and peers. The language, or combination of languages, used by their community, is what a child will use, until the time they encounter external influences and alternative modes of expression. Halliday outlines concisely how language allows a child to locate themselves within their community and then contribute to it. Halliday also separates ‘society’ into several smaller social groups including the family and the local community. By dividing the society into narrower groups this gives the impression that each individual group uses a language specific to the members and their situation. As the child ages the experiences gained from each situation, and from spending time in each individual group, shapes the way that they behave in a way that is appropriate to each event. By spending their formative years constantly moving from one socio-cultural situation to another, teenagers need to adapt language and temperament appropriately on a frequent basis.

Joan Pujolar’s study of language use and bilingualism amongst young people in Barcelona, Gender, Heteroglossia and Power, presents an analysis of Bakhtin’s linguistic theories and his categorisation of language as a code ‘sanctioned and unified by social institutions’ through which levels of meaning operate:

This “unified language” is the result of a particular historical development, i.e. the political and cultural constitution of a nation state. It is an abstract image that we have created and which obscures many features of the social workings of language. Society, in fact, is always linguistically diverse, stratified and heteroglossic (Pujolar 2001, 31).

This linguistic code is a development that has arisen from social history, reacting to the purpose and necessity of the individual to communicate in an understandable way. The form and purpose of language is adapted in order to work to the specific needs of the user. By looking at language in this way, the use of it raises questions of individuality. Language has evolved through historic events, but which developments will affect its future? Also, by using a single language, and discussing events in a single voice, how do we represent ourselves as individuals? An element of our individuality arises directly from our means of self-expression. Pujolar continues by discussing the individual’s decision-making in choosing the appropriate linguistic expressions suitable to specific social contexts. Certain phrases and linguistic choices are appropriate to specific social peer groups, demonstrating the relationships and identities of the group members, ‘A consequence of this situated character of language is that, even for slang and argot speakers, it does not make much sense to speak these styles outside of the activities and relationships where they are used’ (Pujolar 2001, 155). Pujolar makes the connection between the identities of individuals and their language use from one situation to the next. What can we learn about someone from the way they use language in key situations? In addition to this, it is possible to decipher social relationships from the language used amongst members of a specific group, and within specific situations. An extreme dialect would not be understandable outside a certain geographical location, as with the use of most national languages outside the home country – no-one would attempt to use the Welsh language to ask directions from locals in Brazil – as the capacity for meaning and understanding would be compromised.

To a lesser degree, Pujolar discusses the differences between the language used amongst friends and peers, and the language used with the family or with a stranger. It would be impossible for a stranger to follow every nuance of slang in a conversation between close friends, as it would be like joining a discussion half way through and trying to guess at the purpose. The correct information would not be available to the stranger, to understand the minutiae of the references or the connections between every member of the group. Only by spending time with the group and coming to recognise their linguistic interplay and their relationships would the stranger learn the terminology, slang and sayings of the group members, and essentially become a group member themselves. Pujolar’s study was based on communities of young adults in Barcelona and their language use, and as with Gillespie’s study, what is difficult here is to transfer this approach to a study of fictional communities portrayed in different films.

The study of language in film is dependant on several other areas of study, as it is a less popular area of the field to focus upon. Several studies of cinema language refer to the work of Christian Metz, and are concerned with the process of creating a language from the images on the screen and the act of editing that creates a series of visual sentences. There are studies of how the media influences the language of the audience, and how the audience can create an identity from their cultural understanding as in the work of Gillespie. Several elements of the linguistic portion of my thesis combine analysis of language use in real communities with literary theory – in many cases the work of Bakhtin – as the use of language in literature is rather more prominent as a point of analysis than in film. The analysis of language use in film as well as the use of film language allows an understanding of the means by which genre is evoked in the film’s dialogue as well as through iconography. By combining these two elements of study with work of film genre I come closer to answering the problem of studying the use of verbal language in cinema.

Methodology

The use of close textual analysis as the study’s primary methodology arises from the need to make a thorough reading of the language used across the teen genre, focussing not only on the issue of vocabulary but also of the context in which it is used. The thesis also takes into account ideas of genre, genre history and critical reception. Norman Fairclough notes the flexibility of the approach, ‘the amount of material that can be analysed depends on the level of detail: textual analysis can focus on just a selected few features of texts or many features simultaneously’ (Fairclough 2003, 6). This methodology allows a range of interpretations of a single text, depending on the requirements of the study, but Fairclough also indicates the potential of what he initially terms ‘text analysis’, as a means of ‘seeing texts in terms of the different discourses, genres and styles they draw upon and articulate together’ (Fairclough 2003, 3). The convergence of discourses and references in any text allows a plethora of interpretations depending on the individual researcher, their cultural context and their research focus. The analysis of a film genre presents the repetition of narrative themes, iconography, characters and contexts, and with each variation the discourse is extended and elaborated upon.

The decision to use close textual analysis is based on its position as an effective means of focusing on specific sequences and analysing characters’ actions. I am resisting the use of a shot-by-shot breakdown in this study as my focus is on the verbal interactions between characters rather than their physical actions and the visual construction of these encounters. Though the circumstance of each encounter is significant, the verbal will take priority over the other aspects of the scenes. I examine each case study in the context of period (when it as made? what other films were produced around the same time?), genre history (where does it lie in regard to other teen films? how has it been influenced/how is it influential?), and culture (is it an example of national cinema? and how does it co-exist with other media representations of teenagers from the same country?).

The thesis is structured in order to demonstrate the development of teen films according to different ideas of national cinema, and the addition of second and third languages to the dialogue of teenage characters across the genre. By moving from a monolingual film to the multilingual, the analysis elaborates on the genre’s established conventions focussing on the linguistic and sees how these conventions are maintained in the genre’s wider reaches, whilst the linguistic elements contribute to the representations of the teenagers’ specific cultural communities. The thesis begins with the contemporary Hollywood teen film, its influences and conventions, and the means in which it creates social and generational divides within the language use of monolingual characters. The scope is then broadened by analysing a multilingual British film which presents a group of bilingual characters in a foreign country, where identity is challenged by being placed in a foreign context. The analysis of bilingual teenagers then moves to another setting by analysing the teenagers of an immigrant community in Australia. Again, the film features teenagers using two languages, but in this example they are within their own, sometimes oppressive, cultural community. The final chapter returns to the analysis of genre and linguistic conventions, but the ways in which the conventions of the teen film are affected by generic hybridisation. The desire to return full circle to the American teen film demonstrates the breadth of the genre even in its most familiar context.

By analysing the various interactions in each film, and considering them in terms of the characters, the situation, and so on it is a clear means of developing an understanding of the cultures and subcultures being represented. By utilising a critical interpretation of the genre more generally in the specific period of production and across its historical development it is possible to create a deeper understanding to support the analysis of the purpose and meaning of events in the teen genre as well as the language use within their dialogue. Nick Couldry raises the issue of a text’s significance and wider importance other than as the subject of study to ‘expert readers’ and how it should subsequently be studied: ‘[t]he important question becomes not what is a text in itself, or for a community of expert readers, but how does a text get taken up in particular social and cultural formations?’ (Couldry 2000, 68). By analysing the text it is possible to examine how the individual text is experienced and processed within, and as an example of, the culture in which it was produced.

Each chapter examines numerous films and television programmes to establish not only the variety of texts that address the subject discussed in the chapter but also the different means of analysing the issues as raised in the texts. The level of analysis then intensifies in the chapter’s main case study, by going into great depth in interpreting the film’s representation of the chapter’s key focus, and analysing the language use of the film’s characters and their dialogue, as individuals as well as members of social and cultural groups. The relevance of cultural texts and of the representation of individuals and communities in these texts can be interpreted from a variety of perspectives and based on numerous elements, and through textual analysis it is possible to focus closely on these elements in turn and as a whole in order to achieve a greater understanding of the culture in which the text was produced and the culture and community it conveys.

Close textual analysis as a methodology allows for a detailed examination of every film, focussing on key sequences and the dialogue featured. Not only will I be looking at the language of the teenage characters, I will also be comparing their language to that of the adults around them. This amounts to a linguistic battle amongst the characters representing a traditional genre convention, which is that lack of understanding between the generations that prevents clear and unproblematic communication. Rather than having the traditional scenes of a teenager berating their elders for not understanding them, we have the linguistic situation of the younger generation literally, and linguistically, confounding their parents and teachers with their vocabulary and phraseology.

[I]n deciding whether literary models have anything to offer to cultural studies, we have to ask a further question: what is the methodological function of value judgements about texts and readings? They work … to limit the complexity and vastness of the textual field: selecting from the range of available texts those to which we have to pay close attention; selecting from the range of possible readings those which can serve as reference points for established meanings (Couldry 2000, 68).

The literary model of textual analysis adapts to the analysis of film as many of the same functions of value judgments and can be analysed from the position of a constructed text incorporating themes, characters and dialogue as well as the influence of the writer, edited and publisher/ producer. This provides a greater understanding of the textual field as well as an understanding of individual texts within it; these texts are analysed jointly, both independently from their production context and as part of a period of production. The focus of this thesis on a specific genre creates a necessity to analyse each case study in relation to the genre’s history, and its position amongst specific trends in that history.

The thesis’s focus on the spoken word also draws on methodological approaches from outside of film studies. Due to the limited analysis of language use in film texts there is a necessity to draw from external sources. The analysis of linguistics and of bilingual and multilingual communities is a useful field to apply to filmic representations of such communities. The discourses around film dialogue centre on a reinforcing of the author’s voice or of certain genres, but not as a genre convention, a linguistic means of indicating the film’s origins. Analyses of the spoken word, as an articulation of cultural heritage or community membership, are a more efficient and effective means of discussing the film’s representation of a community or a generation of characters.

Dialogue is divided between the interchange of utterances onscreen, and the intention in the construction of these utterances. Vimala Herman describes the interactive and interactional nature of dialogue in plays as ‘a mode of speech exchange among participants, speech in relation to another’s speech and not merely the verbal expression of one character’ (Herman 1995, 1). The utterance and the response it elicits are equally significant in representing the nature of constructed conversation. The representation of teenage identity appears not only in the dialogue of the individual teenage characters but also in the reactions of others. The effect of an utterance on the response of another is as significant as the utterance itself. Herman goes on to note the step taken by Bakhtin and his followers from discussing the interactive nature of the dialogic as a basis for understanding to moving beyond these boundaries, ‘dialogism for the Bakhtin school, even in its disparateness, transcended the face-to-face scenario to take in all forms of communication’ (Herman 1995, 2). The interaction of utterances in the media take on the form of dialogue with one article or event provoking another again and again, similarly each film in a cinematic genre – or even without the limitations of genre – is in dialogue with the films that preceded it, and the films that will follow.

A combination of linguistic analysis with a more traditional use of close textual analysis not only provides a discussion of representation in the text, but also debates the relation of the text to the community and cultural context being represented. The difficulty of combining different fields of research, in blending different traditions is instantly apparent, and cannot be overlooked, especially when bringing together the analysis of fact with the analysis of fiction. The combination of approaches in the thesis’ theoretical framework allows the study of each text to take a variety of courses and creates a greater density of analysis; which counteracts many of the criticisms of textual analysis as a methodology that can ignore the influences of external forces on the text. By addressing genre, history and linguistics the issues of representation are made clearer, not only of the characters but of their cultural and historic contexts.

The position of a single film in the context of genre allows a comparison between the specific text and others of its kind, historically and in its contemporary setting. The similarities or lack thereof between one film and others provides the context of genre, but also reveals the individuality of the text within genre’s confines and conventions. Through an examination of the teen genre’s history in each chapter focussing on its position in film production nation by nation as well as in popular culture, each case study is given a specific context for the representation of teenagers. By placing each case study in the contexts of nation and genre the analysis allows for the influence of history and culture, often overlooked in close textual analysis; and as the teen genre is very much entwined with the culture and expression of teenagers the representation of these characters is based in the contemporary world – or the contemporary world of the period in which the film is set – and the contemporary culture with which the teenagers surround themselves.

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[1] The Lindsay Anderson film if…. (1968) has been the subject of various works including one volume as part of the BFI Film Classics collection written by Mark Sinker (2004) and a second as part of the Turner Classic Movies: British Film Guide, written by Paul Sutton and published by I. B. Tauris in 2005. Both are close textual analyses of the film as part of British cinema history.

[2] The use of the term ‘youth’ in relation to teenagers is based on the preference of the individual authors, as in Jon Lewis’s the discussion of ‘youth crime’ (1992) and Bill Osgerby’s discussion of ‘youth culture’. Otherwise the term ‘teenager’ would be preferred.

[3] Established in 1953 (as the American Releasing Company), before closing down in 1965, they had produced over fifty films and distributed over 250. AIP also distributed imported foreign films in America, including some from Britain, and numerous European films re-dubbed into English.

[4] Though described as ‘exploitation’, the status of AIP’s films as such is questioned by Eric Schaefer’s discussion of ‘exploitation cinema’. Schaefer focuses on low budget films produced between 1919 and 1959, which were often morality tales providing representations of the dangers of the big city, and its corrupting influence – predominantly sex and drugs – on young people leaving the safety of the family home. Schaefer, Eric. “BOLD! DARING! SHOCKING! TRUE!”: A History of Exploitation Films, 1919-1959. Durham; London: Duke University Press, 1999.

[5] This volume is part of the series ‘Children’s Literature and Culture’, and in the foreword to the work the series editor Jack Zipes explains that the series has a specific methodological approach to the texts that qualify for examination – ‘Children’s literature and culture are understood in the broadest sense of the term children to encompass the period of childhood up through late adolescence’ Wojcik-Andrews, Ian. Children's films: history, ideology, pedagogy, theory. New York; London: Garland Publishing 2000, (page ix).

[6] In the work of John Hughes, Pretty in Pink revolves around a love story between two students from contrasting economic backgrounds, and The Breakfast Club features a group of diverse students from various school cliques and diverse social classes.

[7] Blockbusters such as Independence Day (Roland Emmerich, 1996), Volcano (Mick Jackson, 1997) and The Day after Tomorrow (Roland Emmerich, 2004) feature teenage characters in primary roles within a large ensemble cast.

[8] These characters tend to have a difficult relationship with their parents and desire greater independence, however when they wander off alone they get into difficulties and inevitably need to be rescued by the parents they rejected.

[9] The works of Shakespeare have been effectively adapted to a variety of genres. Akira Kurosawa used the Japanese samurai film – Throne of Blood (1957) adapts Macbeth, and Ran (1985) is an adaptation of King Lear; Andrew V. McLaglen’s McLintock! (1963) adapts The Taming of the Shrew using the iconography of the American western; and West Side Story (Jerome Robbins; Robert Wise, 1961) is a cinematic adaptation of a Broadway musical re-working of Romeo and Juliet.

[10] Sarah Neeley (2001), Elizabeth A. Deitchman (2002), Hugh H. Davis (2006).

[11] Carol M. Dole (1998).

[12] Baz Luhrmann had only directed one other feature film at this time, Strictly Ballroom (1992), but had also worked in the theatre in Australia.

[13] Leonardo DiCaprio is credited as the star of Growing Pains (1985-1992), an American sitcom, but his film work is ignored, despite his having already earned Academy Award and Golden Globe Nominations in the category of Best Supporting Actor for the film What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? (Lasse Hallström, 1993). Claire Danes is credited as the star of My So-Called Life (1994), but her acclaim for her performance in this series is overlooked (a Golden Globe for Best Performance by an Actress in a TV Series – Drama in 1995, and an Emmy Nomination for the same performance).

[14] The series is ongoing and has moved through a number of directors and casts; however the main cast of originally characters for the series were created by Adam Herz.

[15] See Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003), Roswell (1999-2002), Smallville (2001-2011), Hex (2004-2005), Demons (2009), The Sarah Jane Adventures (2007- present).

[16] With programmes such as the BBC’s Def II (1988-1994), Rough Guide to Europe (1988-89), and Rapido (1988-92), as well as The Word (1990-95) and Eurotrash (1993-98) on Channel 4.

[17] The series Beverly Hills 90210, was followed by in 2008 spin-off series 90210 (2008- present) based around a new generation of teenagers, and featuring cameo appearances from the original cast.

[18] For example the release of ‘The power of love’ by Huey Lewis and the News that featured on the soundtrack of the film Back to the Future (Zemeckis, 1985), or ‘Don’t you forget about me’ by Simple Minds as featured in The Breakfast Club.

[19] The cast of most teen dramas would populate many of the teen films of their period, demonstrating their acting range by playing variations of their on-screen persona. From Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sarah Michelle Gellar appeared in She’s All That, Cruel Intentions and Scream 2 (Wes Craven, 1997), whilst Alyson Hannigan starred in the first three American Pie films. From Dawson’s Creek, James Van Der Beek appeared in Varsity Blues (Brian Robbins, 1999), Katie Holmes appeared in Disturbing Behaviour (David Nutter, 1998), Go (Doug Liman, 1999), and Teaching Mrs. Tingle (Kevin Williamson, 1999), Joshua Jackson appeared in Urban Legend (Jamie Blanks, 1998), Cruel Intentions, Gossip (Davis Guggenheim, 2000) and The Skulls (Rob Cohen, 2000), and Michelle Williams appeared in Halloween H20 (Steve Miner, 1998), and Dick (Andrew Fleming, 1999).

[20] Various young actors – usually female – have had pop music careers including Hillary Duff, Lindsay Lohan, and Jennifer Love Hewitt. In addition to this, many young singers have started acting – appearing as themselves or as more challenging characters – in teen films or television programmes, including Mandy Moore, Britney Spears, Brandy Norwood, Usher and Sisqo.

[21] Thompson, Robert J. Television’s Second Golden Age: From Hill Street Blues to ER. New York: Syracuse University Press, 1996. The classification of ‘Quality TV’ features in the preface, ‘From “The Golden Age of Television” to “Quality TV”’ (P. 11-8).

[22] During the first season of Dawson’s Creek, Williamson included an episode based on the narrative of Scream (‘The Scare’, season 1 episode 11). Within the same season he created an episode based around the narrative of The Breakfast Club (‘Detention’, episode 7), which was also a strong influence on the narrative of The Faculty.

[23] Created by Phil Redmond and running from 1978-2008, Grange Hill was initially set in a suburban London comprehensive school (though it later moved to Liverpool), following the lives of the students – predominantly working or lower-middle class – in their daily school life as well as their home lives. The series dealt with countless social issues including bullying, racism, homophobia, drug addiction, teenage pregnancy, physical disabilities and diseases such as cerebral palsy and leukaemia, and homelessness.

[24] The reference to Grange Hill in The Television Genre Book is in the chapter on Children’s Television, (2nd edition 2008, 92).

[25] Screened on Channel 4 in Britain, the series inhabits the same place in the schedule as some American teen dramas such as Dawson’s Creek when they were originally shown on British screens.

[26] The series is filmed in Melbourne.

[27] Melbourne is home to the world’s third largest Greek community (Crofts 1995, 101).

[28] The idea that teen speak is temporary is addressed indirectly in the third season of Buffy, when the adults consume cursed chocolate bars that regresses them to their own teenage identities, whereupon their dialogue exhibits specific slang terms that have not featured in their dialogue under any other circumstances.

[29] As noted by Jane Espenson, the co-executive producer of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, in the Introduction to Slayer Slang (page ix). Adams, Michael. Slayer Slang: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Lexicon. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003.

[30] Such as Todd Berliner’s article ‘Hollywood Movie Dialogue and the “Real Realism” of John Cassavetes’ published in Film Quarterly (Spring 1999), or Stuart Y. McDougal’s work on A Clockwork Orange in his edited collection Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

[31] A form of narrative technique that precedes verbal tradition (Neil Cornwell, Bristol University). found 13-03-2007.

[32] Including: ‘moral, philosophical or scientific statements, oratory, ethnographic descriptions, memoranda and so forth’ (Bakhtin 2004, 262).

[33] In the case of multi-strand narratives, the need to establish these elements might be repeated for each strand in turn, though the overall film narrative will be remain fairly constant; though there may be clear aesthetic differences to distinguish one strand from another such as assigning a colour scheme or mode of filming to each, as in Traffic (Stephen Soderbergh, 2000).

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