Julian Hanich lists ten types of laughter, and the one I found most compelling to write about in this blog post is “conversion laughter: laughing as evaluative transformation” (197). Hanich makes reference to films such as The Room, which were “originally conceived as scary, dramatic, or shocking” (197) but are considered comedic because of audience’s laughter at the films’ failures (in acting, editing, overall kitsch-ness, boringness, clichés, and more…). To name a more modern example, an Oscar contender this year – Emilia Pérez — became meme fodder when people began to notice not only its offensive, outdated portrayals of trans people and Mexico, but also its narrative, dialogue, and musical failures.
While many scenes of Emilia Pérez are intended to be serious, people have taken to Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok to laugh at it, making videos such as “trying to keep a straight face while watching Emilia Pérez scenes”. Hanich writes: “Laughter is an attempt to transform the status of the film and degrade it” (198). For people who object to the film’s offensive content, or those who simply find it “cringey”, laughter and making jokes at the film/filmmakers’ expense has been their outlet to draw attention to the fact that the film does not deserve the accolades it has been getting.
Hanich discusses how laughter can be used in a cinema setting as evaluative, and how using laughter as a way to pass judgement can feel very enjoyable and satisfactory. “The philosopher Alfred Stern insisted most outspokenly on the evaluative function of laughter and on the pleasurable freedom that comes with ‘speaking out’ negative judgements by laughing about values oppressing us” (199). Stern’s idea means that even if people are offended by the content in Emilia Pérez, turning the film into something to-be-laughed-at is a cathartic and community-building experience, where the meme spreads and people become educated on the issues with the film while laughing at its missteps together.
This laughter can be, according to Hanich, “…implicitly directed at those absent individuals involved in the making of the film…” or “…explicitly addressed to the present individuals in the auditorium who did not express their contempt but…seemed to have liked the film…” (198). This shows that corrective laughter can be used to express why someone should not take a film too seriously in the moment, or it can be used more theoretically to undermine the filmmakers themselves, though they are not in the room.
Having watched this a few hours ago this is a crazy good example. The reason we watched it was solely because we knew it would be bad but it would be funny bad. The discourse of the reception and making of the film also came up so much too. Was not worth watching to even make fun of it.
This is a great example. I find the fact that the film positions itself as serious, nuanced oscar contender that makes me more likely to laugh. There is an interesting difference between films like Emelia Perez and a franchise such as Sharknado, that perhaps relies on its own poor quality such that people will enjoy because it is so bad. We are perhaps less likely to laugh at Sharknado as the film does not try to assert itself as anything more than a silly shark movie, whereas Emilia Pérez asserts itself as the kind of film that wins awards.