Meet Muffy Crosswire (Melissa Altro, “Pippi Longstocking”), an anthropomorphic monkey with long braids from the popular kid’s TV show “Arthur.” Muffy is a vain, selfish, spoiled 8-year-old brat who wouldn’t even let her Jewish best friend Francine (Jodie Resther, “Arthur’s Perfect Christmas) skip her Christmas party because she thought Hanukkah was less important. Some may be quick to blame the crumbling friendship between Muffy and Francine on the latter’s nasty temper and rude attitude, but I believe there’s a much more insidious factor at play.
Enter Ed Crosswire (A.J. Henderson, “Sharky & George”): Muffy’s doting father. Although well-respected throughout the small town of Elwood City as its wealthiest businessman, his “parenting” style has led his precious little daughter to live in ignorance and oblivion, alienating her from her classmates and straining her friendships. In the show, Muffy got so bored at one point she started being rude to her butler on purpose to elevate drama for her reality show. Had Ed spent some time teaching her to treat others with kindness and respect or helped her to develop less annoying hobbies, we wouldn’t have gotten that irritating episode.
Although these characters give us someone we could easily hate, criticize and rant about, they also normalize the idea that large amounts of toys and goodies can substitute time for properly raising children. I grew up entertained by these shows and movies but looking back now, I realize there is a very serious parenting problem (or lack thereof). The characters mentioned above all have fathers with high standing and earnings, but at the expense of being a proper role model. Sure, moms come front and center when it comes to parenting, but studies also show that involved fathers are linked to higher confidence, self-esteem and sociability levels in children. By chasing that extra dollar and an extra rung on the social ladder, we get the problematic caricature of a rich dad who is a poor father. As a result, from reserved and edgy teens to loud, messy brats, we get all kinds of insecurely attached troubled children on our screens.
After all, what could scream more “spoiled daddy’s girl” than hordes of meaningless (but shiny) material goods? Were they to make up for lost quality family time and the inability to cope with loneliness during the peak developmental years of childhood? People say materialistic tendencies come from a lack of self-compassion, which is definitely true for Muffy, who seeks her life’s meaning and identity through her possessions rather than within herself.
Unfortunately, Muffy is not the only character of her kind (and probably won’t be for a long time). From animated shows like “Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir” with the infamous Chloé Bourgeois (Selah Victor, “All I Wish”) to live-action stories like the Harry Potter films with Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton, “Rise of the Planet of the Apes”), spoiled brats have transcended through time and mediums. A common pattern among these characters is that they all come from extremely wealthy families and treat their peers horribly because their high socioeconomic class is all they have going in their favor. Their family lives are often a wreck — they can’t create any authentic relationships — and their problems are seemingly gone with the snap of a finger by purchasing something novel and expensive. How better to cope with the absence of friends than with the newest designer collectible?
However, this caricature is not just confined to TV shows for young children. In fact, depictions of this caricature become ever more real and more terrifying in media for older audiences.
Seong Gi-Hun (Lee Jung-Jae, “The Acolyte”) from “Squid Game” is a perfect example of this. In the pursuit of becoming a better father and son who could financially support his family (instead of a compulsive gambler who loses all the time), he becomes the complete opposite of who he wants to be in the end: a man whose impulses drive his every decision. Instead of flying back to reunite with his daughter in the Season 1 finale, Gi-Hun decides to reenter Squid Game to right a wrong. At the end of the series, Gi-Hun is described as everything good — empathetic, moralistic, wealthy, compassionate — except that he can never be there for his family. If his goal was to provide for his family at the beginning of the show, what’s the point of all these qualities if he couldn’t be the very thing he strived to be?
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention other notable characters who put their families on the back burner to chase their personal dreams. Jacob (Steven Yeun, “Beef”) from the film “Minari” created strife to pursue the American Dream at the expense of his family’s well-being. By moving to middle-of-nowhere Arkansas, where his kids had neither an accessible healthcare system nor good schools, Jacob made everyone else’s life difficult (especially his wife’s) so he could have a shot at success. While his wife Monica (Han Ye-Ri, “Hello, My Twenties!”) had her doubts about the stability of their new life and how it would impact the upbringing of their children, Jacob thought their move was worth it: He could mark a fresh start with his farming business and entrepreneurial spirit at their new home. But at what cost? (Hint: lots of fights, windy storms and working long hours in the heat).
The father figures in this article, from the cartoon ones to the real ones in dramas and films, all seem so different from each other, and yet they all contribute to the rich dad poor father caricature, which normalizes neglectful or poor parenting on the father’s end, so long as they bring home the bacon. This sets a double standard for women, who are expected to excel on both fronts. Think of Mrs. Incredible (Holly Hunter, “The Piano), who is both a clever superhero and a caring mother, whereas Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson, “Coach”) can get away with merely lifting a couple of heavy objects in public. In reality, women can’t make a problem disappear with a credit card as easily as a man. Otherwise, they’ll be accused of being a bad parent.
Media depictions make it seem as though money and family are mutually exclusive, but we can have both: It’s called work-life balance. P.T. Barnum (Hugh Jackman, “Deadpool & Wolverine”) in “The Greatest Showman” learned this the hard way after realizing he was spending more time on his circus than with the very people he promised to share a million dreams with. He ends up leaving his business and retiring early in exchange for the most valuable part of his life: watching his girls grow up by his wife’s side. Though his story was written as a rags-to-riches tale, the most important lesson is to never lose sight of what’s most important, especially when you move up a couple of tax brackets.
So, future fictional dads, can we see less wealth chasing from you now?
Daily Arts Writer Michelle Wu can be reached at michewu@umich.edu.
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