LISA A. LEWIS            
Male-Address
Video          

   MTV's preferred address to male adolescents was executed in individual music
videos by making the image of"the street" an overarching sign system for
male-adolescent discourse. To invoke this attachment of young males to the street,
male musicians were shown loitering on sidewalks, strolling along avenues, and
riding in cars. These representations of street-corner activities served to valorize
leisure, the arena in which adolescent boys carve out their own domain. Even when
the physical image of the street was absent from a video, it remained an implied
presence, for as a sign system it summarized perfectly the maleadolescent quest for
adventure, rebellion, sexual encounter, peer relationships, and male privilege. The
videos evoked male-adolescent discourse by representing boys' privileged position
with respect to their female peers. Drawing on the connection between
male-adolescent license and adult-male rule, the male-address videos activated
textual signs of patriarchal discourse, reproducing coded images of the female
body, and positioning girls and women as the objects of male voyeurism. Both the
image of the female peer (the adolescent girl) and the more mythical (for boys)
image of the adult woman were prominently featured. When girls appeared, they
were not represented as equal participants in the symbolic system of the street, but
functioned as devices to delineate the male-adolescent discourse. Male-address
videos empowered male-adolescent viewers by providing them with a symbolic
equation between the representations of the street and the female body, and their
own privileged access to public space and patriarchal prerogatives.
  Four videos from 1983 serve as specific examples of MTV's preferred
male-adolescent discourse. As a group, the videos execute male address in distinct
and particular ways, with differing levels of implied selfconsciousness about the
discourse they construct. They contain a limited range of approaches to female
representation, and none can be said to present a female point of view on
adolescence. The year 1983 is significant because during this year male-address
appeared to be on a strong footing as the preferred textual practice, but . . .
female-address video was on the verge of coalescence.

  "Tender Is the Night"

  In Jackson Browne's "Tender Is the Night," the world of the street is developed as a boy's
physical and spiritual haven. The video opens with Browne, who plays the protagonist,
walking alone at night down a long urban alley. A lengthy photographic shot builds suspense
and gives viewers time to contemplate the direction of the narrative line, the video's unfolding
point of view. The boy is at ease, self-absorbed. The late hour and the secluded location are
not threatening to him. As a male, he commands the street; as an adolescent, he revels in it.
Unlike a woman or girl, he is unafraid; unlike a female adolescent, he is not excluded from
the aura of the night streets. The corner of an X-rated movie marquee becomes visible in the
frame. Its presence in no way alters the boy's route, nor does it make him wary, as it might a
girl or woman. This is where the protagonist wants to be, where he feels he belongs.
  The boy arrives at the section of street designated visually as "the strip." The production's
design and photography add to the street's overall allure, refracting and blurring the neon
lights on its wet surface. Colored light washes over cars that cruise the street with deliberate
slowness. Lovers are out in full force. The scene glorifies the strip as a symbol of male
adolescence, representing the ritualized activities of"stepping out" and "cruising" and the
privileges of sexual pursuit and leisure. The video depicts the world of the street as organized
by pleasure, spontaneity, free agency, and male desire. The vision is further developed in
scenes that oppose the image of street life with images of domestic life. The camera peers in
the protagonist's kitchen window to witness him quarreling with his live-in girlfriend (played
by Browne's [then] girlfriend, Darryl Hannah). The girl functions as a sign of the adult roles
and responsibilities against which adolescence is posed--commitment to a monogamous
relationship and a work routine. The couple's quarrel represents not merely an interpersonal
conflict, but an enactment of the boy's adolescent rebellion. While he appreciates the "tender"
lovemaking that lies at the core of his sentiment for the girl (presented visually in a sensual
montage sequence), he balks at the socially prescribed outcome of sexual intimacy--the
expectation of exclusivity and the restrictions of marriage. When his relationship with the girl
moves toward this "adult" configuration, he wants out. It is the whole culture of the street (of
adolescence), the freedom and sexual exploration it affords, that the protagonist finds
ultimately more "tender," more physically and spiritually rewarding.
   Out on the street, as the video illustrates, girls are easily available, and on less demanding
terms. Spontaneous associations spring from car cruising, and even the girls who appear with
other boys are not committed to exclusive relationships (as the flirtatious face of one female
passenger in a car driven by a boy suggests). The protagonist's castoff girlfriend is forced to
resume her position within the male-adolescent discourse. Leaving home after the quarrel, her
possessions in hand, she ends up on the street and immediately comes to the attention of a
boy who is out cruising in his car. She becomes the object of another male adolescent's
spontaneous, commanding, yet fleeting desire. The exchange between the boy in the car and
the girl on the street recalls the transaction between a trick and a prostitute; he stops and calls
out to her, she approaches the car, they talk, and she gets in. 

    "Sharp Dressed Man"

   An expanded version of the prostitute motif is elaborated in ZZ Top's video "Sharp Dressed
Man," in which sexual experimentation in adolescence is linked symbolically to the
assumption of adult-male power. The band's members, who wear beards and are themselves
too old to play male-adolescent protagonists, assume the collective role of adviser to the male
lead. They direct the boy in male-adolescent discourse, guiding him from an innocent and
impotent childhood toward a sophisticated and powerful adult-male image.
   The boy's innocence and ineffectuality are represented by his service job as a car attendant
at an exclusive nightclub, a representation that concurrently emasculates working-class males.
He observes male privilege from afar, symbolized by the cars and women of club members.
His desire to have what they have, to be what they are, is manifested in his expression of
desire for a woman who arrives with one of the members. Magically, the band appears on the
scene, rock-and-roll shamans, to lead him to the fulfillment of his desire. They produce the
keys to a rubyred car (the band's trademark), dangling them enticingly before the boy like a
symbol of male-adolescent license. Out of the car, step three scantily dressed, "hot" women,
their erect nipples visible through their blouses. A photographer immediately takes their
picture, affirming their status as objects of the male gaze. As fantastic creations of ZZ Top,
the three direct their attentions to the boy. The band members recreate the mythical avuncular
role, initiating the boy into manhood by leading him to experienced prostitutes. Sexual
experimentation is not only sanctioned but is presented as a fundamental step toward the boy's
maturation into manhood.
  Only by living out the male-adolescent discourse, by shirking his responsibilities as an
employee, going offinto the night with a flashy car and lusty women, does he qualify for the
previously unattainable woman, and for life as a potent male. Interestingly, the woman who is
the boy's object of desire is presented in a visual mode that was developed by female-address
videos to reveal female sexual exploitation.l Inside the club, she appears bored by and
disinterested in her date, is subjected to his roving hands and accelerating harassment, until
finally she pours a drink in his lap and leaves. But this is not the woman's story, and the
details of her character only serve to further the narrative of the boy's transition to manhood.
From the moment the woman makes eye contact with the boy in the parking lot, she is
destined by the narrative line and ZZ Top's omnipotent direction to become increasingly
dissatisfied with her date and more desirous of the boy. Her rejection of her date is required
by the discourse of male adolescence, which asserts the boy's privileged position by showing
him attracting a woman who "belongs" to another man 

  "Sexy and 17"

   Stray Cats' video "Sexy and 17" establishes male-adolescent authority by making the band's
members into juvenile delinquents who disrupt the site of social authority most salient for
adolescents--the school. The sign system of the street remains an implied presence. The boys
challenge their teacher by wearing street attire in the classroom--black leather, T-shirts,
sunglasses--nostalgic emblems of male-teen culture from the fifties. The school boys use rock
and roll to promote a disreputable image, playing instruments in the hallway and singing,
"Hey man, I don't feel like going to school no more!" The prestige the display wins among
their peers is demonstrated as the song provokes their classmates to a dancing frenzy.
   The central enactment of male-adolescent discourse involves the l0 boys' perceptions of
female adolescents. The video reveals the fundamental confusion over who girls are, what
they do, what they think about, and what they want that tacitly permeates the male-adolescent
experience. Friendships among girls form a strong social network during their school years,
with some friendships even lasting into adulthood. Boys often see girls in groups, and this
configuration becomes the subject of speculation and a sphere of conflict within male culture.
Male-address videos filter girl friendships through the ideology of male adolescence by
including images of girls in groups but then visually suggesting that the configuration is
intended to facilitate male sexual experimentation. In both "Sharp Dressed Man" and "Sexy
and 17" groups of girls are treated in this way.
   Girls' involvement with their looks and make-up is also given the status of a fetish in "Sexy
and 17." Female beauty culture is presented as male-inspired and lacks the resonance it attains
in female-address videos. "Little Marie," the main object of the protagonist's affections
according to the lyrics ("my little rock-and-roll queen"), is photographed in pornographic style
as she showers, puts on make-up, and paints her toenails in the "privacy" of her bathroom and
dressing room. A close-up shot of her face turned toward the (male) spectator emphasizes her
painted lips and eyes. The camera tilts up the length of her legs to reveal her provocative
costume--high heels, one fishnet stocking, and bikini panties. The lyric lines, "It's a little bit
obscene, got to let off a little steam," attempt to reposition the blatant objectification of the
girl within the parameters of normal male adolescence. The song's refrain, "She's sexy and
17," claims the video's voyeuristic stance for all men, not just boys, while at the same time
privileging male adolescence as a time of unbounded sexual exploits.
   Part of what imbues the boys in "Sexy and 17" with authority is their ability to play rock
and roll on stage and make girls dance and feel sexual desire for them. The boys play as a
band after school in a scene that allows Stray Cats to perform while maintaining a narrative
presence. The fictional band's popularity with the girls at the nightclub comments on Stray
Cats' own motivations for playing music--their desire for a cadre of female fans. "Little
Marie" jumps up boldly to dance, in a narrative moment that offers female audiences the
possibility of exploring female-adolescent pleasures. But as is typical in male-address videos,
male pleasure and power take priority, and "Little Marie" is reduced to the role of a groupie,
with her pleasure defined in terms of the male point of view. While modes offemale
adolescence are manifested in her defiant dress and expressions, and in the intensity of her
involvement with music and dance, all of these elements are finally made subservient to male
discourse. Her independent absorption in dancing alone to rock music is undermined as the
protagonist steps in and establishes a firm male lead, throwing her into twirls and twisting
dance moves while he remains controlled and essentially motionless. 

"Beat It"

   Michael Jackson's video "Beat It" presents a contradictory and conflicted portrait of
male-adolescent discourse and addresses boys' own doubts about destructive and violent
behavior, the discourse's most extreme manifestation. Its representation of an ethnic-male
point of view threatens to expose the discourse's racial prejudice, perhaps even open it up to a
female sensibility. However, the video is designed to appropriate (white) male-adolescent
discourse for black males and leaves the discourse's gender bias intact. By exploring the
contradictory recesses of male discourse, "Beat It" approaches a female point of view; but
because this is not its main concern, the address to girls is largely mitigated.
   In the video, two street gangs (whose numbers include members of real Los Angeles gangs)
converge on a warehouse for a stylized fight scene. The textual system of the street, a sign of
male-adolescent unity, has broken down under the scrutiny of an "authentic" ethnic environ- 
ment. Instead, Jackson's street is the site of territorial disputes and male competition. Danger
is present, and the potential destruction of the fictional gang members is a clear possibility.
The gang members themselves are studies in (and provide lessons in) black-male affectation.
Ex-  pertly they control their body language, attitude, and overall appearance; their faces are
drawn and intensely serious. Their every gesture is calculated and aggressive--a flipped
cigarette, snapped fingers, slaps on the back, exaggerated gaits. Each boy dresses "thickly," in
leather: hats, headbands, chains, insignias, jeans; as a group they are individually, yet
cohesively, styled. Together, they create tremendous presence, an air of indomitable power.
The song's lyrical content, in the context of the narrative, is addressed to viewers who feel
that they are outside the gangs' powerful community: whites, boys who have been unable to
cornmand gang membership or who are the objects oftorment by gangs, and all girls and
women.

     They told you don't you ever come around
     here, Don't want to see your face, You better
     disappear, The fire's in their eyes, Their
     voice is really clear, So beat it, just beat it.

  Jackson does not play a gang member, but has a complex and contradictory role in the
video. His words to the audience invoke the many issues of power and powerlessness,
authority and lack of authority, blackness and whiteness, and maleness and femaleness. As the
video's narrator, he tells viewers how to feel about the gangs and their slow convergence on
one another for a violent showdown. As a character, his intervention in the action determines
its crucial resolution. Yet at the video's start his character is presented visually as weak and
ineffectual. He lies on a bed in his bedroom. His thin, nearly scrawny physique is in marked
contrast to the gang members' size and weight. Appearing within domestic space, lying across
his bed, Jackson has none of the street presence of the gang members, and is linked visually
to the feminine. Lying on the bed, "speaking" about the gangs' threats, the boy appears to be
a victim. But as he rises from the bed, his anger swells, and he begins to assume a position of
strength and superiority. The lyrics he speaks to the camera begin to analyze the gangs'
psychological and social motivations, relating their terrorism to the discourse of masculinity
and adolescence, and to the social reality of black urban existence.
 
      Don't want to be a boy,
      You want to be a man,
      You want to stay alive,
      Better do what you can,
      You have to show them
     --that you're really not scared.

   The transition to manhood, the lyrics imply, is bound up with the necessity to display
courage, force, and an ability to dominate. The lyrics, juxtaposed with the intensely male
affectation of the gang members, serve to create a context for their actions. The line "You
have to show them that you?re really not scared" creates an ambiguous address. The "you"
addresses those who are afraid--according to the narrative, those who fear gang violence. But
because fear is an emotion that defines female existence, it may be easily appropriated by
female audiences. The "you" also refers to the gang members who fight and allows the video
to explain their violent behavior within the context of (black) male ideology, even to suggest
that despite appearances and dictates, they too live in fear. Such ambiguity opens the video to
a number of viewer perspectives and creates a critical space for evaluating the
male-adolescence discourse as represented in the gang members' rule of the street.
  Yet as the video unfolds, male-adolescent discourse is upheld throughJackson's actions,
costuming, and attitude as the protagonist. He goes to the gangs' "hangouts," the pool hall and
the diner, to head off the confrontation. He knows their turf and is not afraid to enter. Once
inside, his anger, which remained contained in the bedroom scene, is unleashed. He begins to
dance aggressively with clenched fists and kicks, the implied violence that the gangs
themselves practice. His own style statement functions to give him an air of command and
charisma, thus aligning him with the gang members and particularly with their leaders.
Although the color of his red leather jacket can be seen as a sign of his association with the
feminine (blood, menstruation), its fabric and styling are the same as the gang members'
jackets. He goes to the warehouse ostensibly to stop the gangs from fighting, to intercede in
the maleadolescent discourse; but once there, he becomes their new leader. Both gangs begin
to move to his dance, the new rhythm he establishes, just as previously they had followed the
rhythm of their respective gang leaders. He succeeds in interrupting the fight, but in the
process forms an even larger, more unified gang. He effectively eliminates the violent male
competition that had threatened to undo the male-adolescent discourse, and thus preserves the
discourse itself. The black-male adolescent fantasy of rising above the threat of the gang, even
of joining their ranks, is also satisfied.
  For girls who identify with Jackson's articulation of fear, there is greater ambiguity. Aside
fromJackson's own androgynous nod to female viewers, the only female representation in the
video is of one gang member's adoring girlfriend, whose head is yanked back by the hair so
that he may kiss her before leaving for the fight. Compared to West Side Story, from which
the video's visual motif of gang warfare appears to have been lifted, "Beat It"'s portrayal of
female participation in and around male-adolescent discourse is practically nonexistent.  
  The four videos described move from the uncritical, naturalized male-adolescent discourse
of"Tender Is the Night" to the overtly symbolic treatment of male adolescence in "Sharp
Dressed Man" to the nostalgic, comic portrayal of juvenile delinquency and the confused,
somewhat vicious representation offemale adolescence in "Sexy and 17" to the more serious,
fractured vision of male adolescence in "Beat It." Other male-address videos on MTV in 1983
executed the address differently, selecting other "workable" representations, but in the end all
were united by a central focus on articulating adolescence within the context of
male-adolescent experience and sexual desire.