For those of us who grew up in the ’80s—or, alternatively, if you just happened to watch a fair amount of TV during that glorious era—the term “Very Special Episode” may elicit some fond and funny memories.
The “Very Special Episode,” as Wikipedia describes it, refers “to an episode of a sitcom or television drama that deals with a serious or controversial social issue.” A normally silly show, for instance, would suddenly gain some gravitas as a cautionary tale: Alex P. Keaton frantically popping amphetamines in “Family Ties”; Kimberly and Arnold getting kidnapped by a dastardly stranger on “Diff’rent Strokes”; Cherie hiding in a dangerous old refrigerator in “Punky Brewster.” One of the most infamous Very Special Episodes comes from the early-’90s show “Saved by the Bell,” when classic type-A overachiever Jessie Spano becomes addicted to … wait for it … caffeine pills. (A more innocent time, then.)
Very Special Episodes were often canned, hokey, preachy, and over the top (one highlight from “Family Matters” showed nerdy Steve Erkel getting deliriously drunk at a party, flopping off a dance floor, mysteriously rocketing out of a window, and landing on a window ledge 10 feet away, left dangling above death’s open door.) In the new millennium, where irony, worldliness, and sarcasm reign, one would think we’re in more sophisticated—or at least more disillusioned—times, deserving of more subtle, artistic, propaganda. Think Sundance. Think Banksy, the mysterious street artist. Think Bon Iver, the woodsy, misty poetry slam/musical act, or whoever the new Bon Iver is.
Nope. Witness “Between Two Ferns,” a faux Internet talk show featured on the humor website Funny or Die. Hosted by “Hangover” star Zach Galifianakis, each episode features awkward, insulting, and often amusing exchanges with celebrities like Bruce Willis (“How many children do you have? Which is your favorite—Ashton?”), Justin Bieber (“It’s really exciting to talk to you, especially right in the middle of your public meltdown”) and Natalie Portman (mostly awkward silence). The show is usually pretty funny. This week, to the delight of some and the chagrin of others, the featured guest was our own commander-in-chief, Barack Obama.
It was not subtle. After 3½ minutes of perfunctory but decent jokes, the president launched into an earnest, two-minute speech explaining why every young, healthy person (not coincidentally, the target demographic of Funny or Die) needed to sign up for Obamacare (“at HealthCare.gov!”) by March 31. Young people need to do this, of course, because the massive, clunky, tangled mess of a health insurance scheme Obama pasted together with Krazy Glue will otherwise collapse into a heaping pile of smoking rubble, crushed banjos, unicorn tears, and shattered dreams. (He didn’t actually say that last part, but the veiled desperation was pretty clear.)
As propaganda efforts go, in terms of gaining eyeballs, this one wasn’t half bad: At press time, the video had earned 12 million views. Whether a significant portion of those eyeballs then went to HealthCare.gov is still under debate. According to Tara McGuinness, a White House senior communications adviser, traffic on the enrollment website surged “almost 40 percent” since the video aired. Other numbers aren’t so flattering: As of 6 p.m. on the first day it aired, the Funny or Die video had 6 million views—but only 32,000 viewers clicked through to HealthCare.gov.
Whether that traffic will convert into actual sign-ups from actual healthy young people remains to be seen. Many of them might, for instance, discover that their Obamacare options cost just a wee bit more than what the president promised—the same cost as “your cellphone bill!”—in his now-viral interview. (Interestingly, in a recent town-hall presentation with Spanish-language media, the president suggested that people might have to “prioritize,” cutting out their cable or cellphones to pay for Obamacare. Hmm.)
Most of the criticism of Obama’s appearance on Funny or Die has centered on the somewhat anachronistic question of whether it was in some way “beneath” or “demeaning to” the office of the presidency. That ship has clearly sailed: Modern media is modern media, and presidents are likely smart to embrace it. Far more interesting, however, is another question: What does it mean for our culture when what is marketed to be “hip” and “subversive” and “edgy”—and widely accepted as such—comes off more like an obvious, preachy ’80s sitcom?
Watching Obama desperately wedge a two-minute policy request into a purported comedy appearance was cringe-worthy, but not in the funny, in-the-know way that “Between Two Ferns” intends. In fact, it was strikingly reminiscent of another recent piece of pop culture propaganda, when Lena Dunham, left-wing activist, star of “Girls,” and all-around media darling, appeared on “Saturday Night Live.” In a painful, plodding skit involving a hapless “men’s rights activist” accidentally attending a women’s jewelry party, Dunham inserts a labored speech defending the honor of Planned Parenthood, “a place where women can go for low-cost medical advice and care!” That was pretty much the point of the skit. It sounded like she was talking to very small, unfriendly children. It was, in short, a very weird, completely-devoid-of-funny Very Special Episode.
Americans, unfortunately, are apparently getting used to being treated like kindergarteners. Each year, the government spends hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars on “public service announcements”—I’ve personally seen highway signs telling me how to safely cook food and brush my teeth in the past few months—and outright propaganda, including $ 684 million on Obamacare promotions alone. I suppose we should all feel grateful that Obama took a freebie when it came to “Between Two Ferns,” as it may be the first and only Obamacare-related activity that won’t cost everyone an arm and a leg.
But we should also, perhaps, be a little bit insulted. As the host of “Between Two Ferns,” Zach Galifianakis plays a self-absorbed, awkward, combative mess who can’t get anything right. As the on-air recipient of Barack Obama’s condescending health care monologue, he also serves as a metaphorical stand-in for the speech’s real target audience: the American people, and particularly young people. That’s not a flattering comparison. Obama’s appearance on “Between Two Ferns” may have been a lot of things, but one is worth remembering: It offers a pretty clear image of the dopes he thinks we really are.
Propaganda for Dummies?
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