Laughing At The Man: 'Hung' Leaves Me Stung (With Guilt, That Is)

by Mark Blankenship

Most of the time, I use the term "guilty pleasure" as a genre label. Like...I don't feel ashamed that I still listen to Ace Of Base, but I call "The Sign" a "guilty pleasure" because I know that's the cheesy, content-free sector of pop culture where it was born.

But when it comes to HBO's new comedy Hung, about a broke schoolteacher whose large physical endowment leads him to a sideline job as a hooker, my enjoyment produces actual guilt. There's never been a show that makes me feel so mean.

The Man takes a fall and gets very little sympathy, after the jump...

 

You see, protagonist Ray Drecker (Thomas Jane) is The Man. He embodies the archetype of a straight, white, capital-d Dude who has so much authority over everything around him that he takes his own dominance for granted.

And on Hung, The Man has tumbled: He must become a sexual object just to survive, and despite his gifts down south, he must hear criticism of his bedroom prowess. When Ray's clients suggest that he vary his techniques, or when his pimp (a loopy-yet-savvy poetess played by Jane Adams) tells him he doesn't know how to be romantic, Ray responds with irritated disbelief. "I've never had any complaints before," he scowls, as though it's offensive to think about altering his behavior.

And that's just it: Ray's never heard complaints, because he's been living in a culture that makes him essentially infallible. He's been able to move blithely through life, unaware that he's privileged.

In most stories, this is the point where the hero starts sobbing and the narrative demands our sympathy, but Hung refuses to play for pathos. Instead of bemoaning Ray's lack of privilege, it mocks him for not understanding how to behave without power. It mocks him for not recognizing that he's become an object in society... just like so many other people. As the women around him roll their eyes at his lunkheaded awkwardness as a prostitute, we're invited to laugh at him, too — to savor this chance to stick it to the suddenly clueless Man.

And yeah... I've felt powerless and objectified, so I like this taste of cultural revenge. But also? I feel gross about enjoying it. It's just not a kind way to respond.

If Hung doesn't back off this "Ray is a doofus" line, then I probably won't stick with it. I can't enjoy feeling superior to a character forever. But apparently, I can enjoy it for quite a few weeks. Please don't tell my Sunday school teacher.

Mark Blankenship runs The Critical Condition, where he covers movies, music, and TV.