Arrested Development and Philosophy_ They've Made a Huge Mistake - Kristopher G. Phillips [39]
There’s Always Money in the Banana Stand: Class Status and Performance
The characters of Arrested Development are never quite sure where they stand. Consider Tom Jane—the famous actor that Lindsay meets while he is slumming as a homeless man to research a movie role. Tom Jane is an interesting counterpoint to the Bluths. Lindsay meets him outside of a bar, assuming him to be a casually dressed celebrity (he had the effortless, dressed down look of a movie star, anyway). Then, walking into a liquor store, the clerk tells them he doesn’t allow homeless people in the store, and Lindsay is immediately repulsed. Of course, we later find out that Jane has affected the trappings of homelessness in order to further his goals (in this case, to study for an acting role). This incident shows that one of the ways in which social class becomes recognizable in Arrested Development is through performance. How one dresses and carries one’s self, how one grooms, and the places one frequents are all ways of performing what one wants to be. Whereas for Lindsay and the rest of the Bluths, this performance is upward-directed, for Tom Jane’s research interests it is downward-driving. While being a member of a socioeconomic class isn’t just how one appears to others (after all, Jane still is a movie star), markers such as clothing, speech, and performance are important social signals for how other people will perceive you.
Class is also about place. A recurring theme of Arrested Development is the places that the characters do and do not occupy among Southern California’s rich, powerful, and elite. The Bluths are sustained by constant attention to, and preoccupation with, their ability to gain access into the most prestigious schools (the Milford Academy and Openings), exclusive restaurants (Rudd), and other cultural institutions (the Living Classics pageant). And when it comes to public institutions such as the legal system, the Bluths expect (and indeed receive) special treatment and privilege within those institutions—George Sr. paying off the Mexican authorities, a series of expensive (if often incompetent) private attorneys, and so on.
In fact, the game of keeping up the appearance of an aloof, privileged Southern California lifestyle is more important to the Bluths than actually developing the financial resources to sustain that lifestyle. Passing as upper class becomes a priority over actually being upper class. Needing to present themselves as part of the bourgeoisie becomes the point of intentional activity, and the result of this is a constant anxiety over class status, presentation, and identity. Consider Lucille’s shock and horror upon learning that her country club membership had been downgraded to “poolside only.” Her sense of revulsion is so complete that even her body responds violently: her stomach, after all, isn’t “used to curly fries.” What it is to be upper class is so intimately tied to what it is to present one’s self as upper class that Lucille’s very body can’t handle the unexpected revelation that her persona and gradual “slide into poverty” is more visible than ever before.
I Thought You Meant of the Things You Eat: the Bluths and the Politics of the Family
By many standards the Bluths are a nontraditional family: Michael is a single parent, Lucille’s husband is in jail, Lindsay and Tobias are separated and struggling, Gob unknowingly has a son out of wedlock, Lucille adopts (and subsequently neglects) a child across national and racial lines. Adultery is normalized and expected. Alcoholism is tolerated and encouraged (I mean, we don’t want the vodka to go bad, do we?). The Bluth men fight over women (Marta, Lucille Ostero) just as they fight over toys in the Boyfights VHS movies (which, incidentally, were a huge hit in Mexico). They are, in many ways, the opposite of the perfect