D E P T H 

Feelin’ Groovy
How the “90s dismissed the importance of being earnest - and how a new decade just might rekindle the schmaltz

By Jen Chaney

It’s happened to almost every one of us at some point, although most are ashamed to admit it. Survivor’s “The Search is Over” comes on the car radio and, only after making absolutely certain no one in a neighboring car can hear, you sing along.

Or, you start crying while watching a late-night rerun of Who’s the Boss on Fox Family, but tell yourself the tears are a byproduct of work-related stress.

You purchase Journey’s album Escape at a used CD store because you really like the song “Don’t Stop Believin”" but you tell the 19-year-old clerk with the tongue piercing that you’re just buying it as “a gag gift.”

These are examples of what I call ’sneaking the schmaltz” - appreciating the over-the-top sentimentality of a certain song, film or television show, but keeping that appreciation secret due to fear of utter and never-ending humiliation.

Though not a new concept, schmaltz sneaking became even more necessary in the 1990s, the decade when sarcasm and irony permeated almost every aspect of popular culture. With TV shows like Seinfeld and The Simpsons leading the way, America became a society wherein, with some exceptions, the heartfelt was automatically dubbed cheesy. Sincerity in our culture was no longer prized; what mattered was flash and, the most ubiquitous of all “90s adjectives, edginess.

The result is that many of us, particularly my Gen X peers, are embarrassed to admit that we like certain elements of our culture. We live in fear of being viewed as “uncool” and have nightmares involving a roomful of party-goers who cackle after we accidentally admit that we genuinely enjoy the antics of “The Family Circus.”

This is an issue especially during the holidays, when television specials insist that the magic of Christmas can save the day and holiday songs urge us to enjoy this most wonderful time of the year. If you take it all in without rolling your eyes or smirking at least once, you should consider yourself a hopeless sap, surrender your membership in the Trendy Hipsters of America Club and start including the title ‘dork” in your job description.

But all of that is starting to change. After the jaded self-awareness of the 1990s, we’ve reached a turning point: Schmaltz is becoming something to celebrate rather than sneak. The importance of being earnest is being realized once again.

From Styx to Seinfeld

In the late 1970s and 1980s, unabashed sentimentality was literally dripping from much of popular culture. Passionate arena rockers like Styx and Journey (and, later, the more credible U2) were immensely popular. The earnest weeper E.T. became the highest-grossing film of all time. And on television, formulaic and lesson-teaching family sitcoms reigned. It was a time when people were naive enough to think that Born in the U.S.A. was a pro-American anthem and every week brought yet another very special episode of Punky Brewster.

Families gathered around the television to watch The Cosby Show, and flocked to theaters to watch Tom Hanks return to his youth in Big. We listened as Michael Jackson, the gloved one, softened his image and sang whisper-quiet about “Human Nature.” So much of what we saw and heard then, in keeping with the feel-goodism of the Reagan era, conveyed a sentimental sweetness.

In the late “80s and into the “90s, that started to change. The transformation began with Roseanne, which was wildly heralded at the time as the first sitcom to present the American family as it is - fat, fights and all. Shortly thereafter came The Simpsons, another twisted take on the family comedy but one that pushed the envelope even further with its biting satire and intelligent deconstruction of society.

By the mid “90s, we were infatuated with Quentin Tarantino, director of Pulp Fiction, and the new genre of postmodern violence he introduced. We spent Thursday nights watching Jerry Seinfeld and friends obsess about nothing. Beck sang “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me,” and we cheered a new folk hero.

So much of what we saw and heard was offbeat (Twin Peaks), cynical (grunge) and wryly savvy about our increasingly technology-dominated lifestyles (U2’s “Zoo TV” concert tour), all of which was a noticeable shift from the “We Are the World”-ness of the “80s.

Initially, this pop culture shake-up was a welcome change; new voices were being heard, alternative music was blossoming and well-crafted indie films were finally attracting attention. But by the end of the decade, the need to keep pushing the irreverent, ironic, edgy formula that made Pulp Fiction and Seinfeld so fresh resulted in poor imitations and, ultimately, a lack of substance. It seemed we had reached a point where earnestness had been eradicated completely and replaced with flash. Suddenly, vapid musical artists like Britney Spears were the mainstream rage and special effects-laden films like Star Wars: Episode 1 - The Phantom Menace and The Matrix were viewed as the wave of the future. Even IMAC computers recognized the importance of looking good.

For further evidence, consider For Common Things: Irony, Trust and Commitment in America Today, a book-length essay by twenty-something Jedediah Purdy that was released last year. Purdy argues that Americans have lost sight of genuineness and community largely because of the jaded crassness that pervades popular culture. I don’t necessarily agree with his argument, but he, and others before him, make a strong point: It’s as if we’ve become so savvy that a simple love story or a lofty power ballad can’t move us anymore.

But all that appears to be changing. In a very subtle way, the tides of pop culture are shifting around us and simplicity, sentimentality and sincerity are becoming the prized buzz words again.

Earnestness regained

Consider the following. In the past three years, two of the highest-grossing films were Titanic, a classic love story that movie-goers returned to see again and again, and The Sixth Sense, a carefully-crafted tale that blended mystery with the art of story telling.

The most well-received new television program of the fall season was Ed, a charming show about a lawyer who moves back to his hometown to win the heart of his high school sweetheart and manage a bowling alley. Though the comedy is clearly influenced by Letterman-style humor (David Letterman’s production company Worldwide Pants is behind it, after all), the overall tone is one of sweetness and romanticism. When the girl of Ed’s dreams breaks up with her long-time boyfriend because, in part, he refuses to let her toss him a waffle at breakfast, what does Ed do? He shows up on her front lawn with a truckload of waffles and tosses them, like an Eggo-branded Romeo, at her window.

Speaking of heartfelt TV shows, The West Wing, this year’s Emmy winner for Best Drama, won over critics and the public because it dares to sentimentalize the arena about which Americans are probably most cynical: politics. It does so with intelligent storylines and interesting characters. And guess what? People are eating it up.

Which film has grossed more money than any other this year? Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Though considered hackneyed by most critics, it has attracted crowds drawn to the familiar story line and sentimental holiday tale. In bookstores, children and adults alike waited on line earlier this year to buy the latest in the Harry Potter series. When asked why they like it, most people say it’s because of the story, which, at its essence, is an old-fashioned coming-of-age and good vs. evil tale. And in the music world, one of the big success stories of 2000 has been none other than our old favorite U2, who ditched their ultra-hip, postmodern irony and got back to good “ol basics.

I never thought I’d see the day, but, according to The New York Times, even Styx is popular again. An article in the Sunday Styles section from Dec. 3 notes that the melodramatic rockers who brought us “Come Sail Away,” “Lady” and “The Best of Times’ are hip once more. Even the queens of detached slickness, the chicks on Sex and the City, admit to appreciating Styx. In fact, according to the article, the band is so uncool it’s actually cool.

Does all this mean that irony and biting wit are no longer socially acceptable? Absolutely not. But it might mean that sneaking the schmaltz is no longer necessary - that we can start embracing sentimentality again without worrying whether we should change our names and move to another town.

This holiday season, maybe it’s even OK to cry during It’s a Wonderful Life or announce that Bing Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas’ makes you a bit misty. And perhaps some day we can gather hand-in-hand and sing all of Journey’s Greatest Hits without fear of embarrassment and with a warm, fuzzy feeling in our hearts. Hey, a girl shouldn’t stop believin”.

Jen Chaney is a columnist and feature writer who lives in the D.C. area. She is not embarrassed to admit owning the “Journey Escape” video game.

Related Sites
Read an excerpt from For Common Things by Jedediah Purdy. You can purchase the book here.
My So-Called Irony Ana Marie Cox writes in Feed, [The] wave of teen-beat thirty-somethings actually shows us that, for adolescents, irony and earnestness are forever locked together in a sweaty embrace.
The Backlash Against the Backlash Against Irony Judith Shulevitz of Slate notices a countertrend.
Over the Edge? Is writing with attitude and edge a laudable device to make news reports more compelling? Or does it pose a serious threat to journalism’s core values - and credibility? Lori Robertson of American Journalism Review reports.