The Trans-Atlantic Culture Clash

Ever wondered why a British film can flop in America or why a classic American novel never seems to resonate with a British readership?

Lying in bed yesterday morning I was forced to watch 'Video Hits' due to the annoying lack of morning news on a Saturday in Australia. But this trawl through the uninspiring tunes and videos that clog the teenage single-buying public provided illustration for a point I’ve wanted to make for some time.

The usual mix of British and American bands danced, cavorted and wailed through various video backdrops, but there was a distinct difference between the imagery and ideologies of both, that I’ve realised doesn’t only occur in pop videos, but also throughout mainstream writing in virtually every genre.

Before I start, this is a generalisation. I am sure you can think of exceptions to the rule I’m about to expound that are perfectly valid. But I think the generalisation stands as a sign-post to the underlying backdrop that most writers on each side of the Atlantic find themselves responding to (or at least those that commission and distribute the writing).

Mansions and Housing Estates

American imagery, in music videos, films, comics and television, is steeped in the idea of utopia – a world of positive reinforcement and dreamlike affluence. In contrast, British writing is far more dystopian, preferring to show the seedy side of life with all its flaws and realities. Instead of viewing this dark vision as undesirable, the British culture instead accepts and celebrates it.

Taking my initial music video example, instead of gangsta mansions and bling British pop videos depict housing estates and boarded windows. Instead of bright sun and bikinis, British videos depict rain and dark clothing.

This has held true for decades. Iconic bands - not the fly-by-night manufactured dross that passes like a wet fart after a couple of singles - iconic bands such as The Smiths, Radiohead and U2 all steeped themselves in the imagery of working class, industrial Britain.

Examining other genres, the same trend continues. I’ve previously discussed the differences between ‘Star Trek” and ‘Doctor Who’ before, but they serve as a perfect illustration here, so bear with me. ‘Star Trek’ clearly depicts a futuristic utopia of man conquering all. No man gets left behnd, automatic doors always open and technology means everyone lives in relative comfort. IN contrast, ‘Doctor Who’ has always depicted the future as an incredibly uncomfortable and tough place to live, of fallen empires, corrupt governance and more death than ‘Star Trek’ could ever dare show.

In film, for every ‘I, Robot’ there's a ‘Children of Men’. In comics, the British influx of writers in the 70s and 80s turned the cosy four-colour world of ‘Batman’ and the rest into dark, gritty noir tales. In novels, the science fiction of John Wyndham was far darker, visceral and disturbing than the clinical visions of Asimov.

So why is this? Why have the two cultures steeped themselves in such conflicting world views?

Ascent and Decline

The United States has always had a different outlook and ideology to Europe. This can be partly explained by the relative youth of the country as well as the philosophy of the founding fathers – the pursuit of happiness and the American dream. Whereas Great Britain has learned to accept and embrace its decline from being the greatest world power, the US still sees itself in the ascendancy.

This aspirational viewpoint informs all aspects of American literature and film, setting it apart form writing found elsewhere. The affluent middle-class is highly over represented, particularly in film. Although the United States has more than its fair share of depressed areas, these are less likely to appear in film and literature, unless as the starting point for a rags-to-riches story. The ghetto is a place you strive to escape, not celebrate. American writing is filled with characters escaping poverty through music, sport or heroism, quick to turn their backs on their lifestyles once their life-affirming goal is achieved.

In contrast, British characters seem more resigned to their fates. TV characters – such as Detective Frost - are more likely to live in a flat on a rundown estate with microwaved take-away for dinner than in a large, luxuriously appointed dream home such as that occupied by ‘Magnum P.I.’. The most successful soap operas are set in poor industrial suburbs; ‘Eastenders’ in the working class east end of London, ‘Coronation Street’ a similarly working class Salford, north of Manchester. Similarly, ‘Emmerdale’ depicts the farming community. These three soaps are the highest rated programs on British television (the fourth is ‘Doctor Who’), providing a clear snapshot of the nation’s character. They do not depict ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’, with new gowns and even more lavish homes as they move like mannequins from one scene to the next without any obvious means of income and no troubles except what their ex-mistress has done with the Porsche.

Whereas the US audience is comforted by visions of a world they can aspire to, the British audience doesn’t want to be fed perfect utopias. They want recognisable worlds that relate to the way they live their lives. A British audience knows the future is more likely to be bleak instead of gleaming. There is a willingness to accept the flaws of our world rather than ignoring them and pretending they’ll go away.

Pessimists or Realists?

Some would suggest that the British are therefore a miserable bunch. Not so. In fact, I think this ideological difference illustrates a cultural maturity and an acceptance. Then again, I would. I’m originally from Manchester and my whole outlook has been shaped by British culture.

The British working class are fiercely proud of their lot. For an example of this pride, you only need look at the film ‘Brassed Off’ to watch how some very honest working class characters cope with the demise of their local colliery. In America, if the film were commissioned at all, it would be tinged with a message of hope that the families will find better opportunities – that mining was not a life of which to be proud. In fact, it is a poignant snapshot of the British character, aware of the realities and limitations of their world, not only accepting it but entirely in love with it. There is no happy ending and neither should there be, for to provide one would have been dishonest to the characters and the audience.

We have known for a long time that Hollywood prefers a happy ending, sometimes at the expense of true creativity. But real life doesn’t come equipped with happiness and perfection. We need to find happiness in the hand we are dealt in life. British culture seems more aware of this philosophical truth.