I have for many years resisted dedicating any space to discussing Zooey Deschanel on my blog. There are plenty of writers - both male and female - who have taken issue with the sentient glitter cloud (kudos Gawker*), and I haven't felt the need to reiterate what had already been said.
Today, I feel differently.
Today, while I was eating a warm falafel sandwich and watching The Replacements for the tenth time on TBS, Ms. Deschanel's reallyfuckingstupid iPhone commercial came on. My reactions, in order of how I experienced them, went something like this:
Think about it. Have you ever seen Deschanel when she is not doing something twee or "adorkable," to quote the Fox marketing execs shamelessly shilling her awful show "The New Girl?" Has she ever just been real and not some hipster masturbation fantasy? The entire show is premised on how darn "cute" and "odd" Zooey is because she's a free spirit who lives with a bunch of dudes. Isn’t that hilarious?! It is, because she wears glasses! And is all flibbertigibbetygoo! Jesus.
I know what you might say: It's just an act. But it can't be argued that Deschanel's persona in film and tv apply equally to her public, off-screen life. Deschanel has called her character in The New Girl a "perfect fit." In interviews, she seems programmed to talk and behave exclusively as an adorable oddball. The New York profile describes her replying to a journalist who asks her about her cuteness by covering her ears because that’s what “my mom told me [to do] when I get compliments.” She plays the ukulele and is apparently learning circus tumbling. In an April appearance on Craig Ferguson’s late-night show, she talked about why she doesn’t consider Scotland a part of Europe (because it’s an island, more or less) and the challenges of mini-golf, and she played the harmonica. On HelloGiggles, she regularly posts videos of herself looking doe-eyed at the camera while performing retro karaoke for adoring fans. My favorite post (no) from last year: a doodle she drew of a robot that gardens. "He rolls around and finds all of those cherry tomato bushes you planted and kohlrabi seed rows you forgot about and actually cultivates them."
I’m not saying there's anything necessarily problematic about being quirky: with singing spontaneously, wearing fake teeth for fun, or dreaming up robots. It’s a character trait, which in moderation, can be quite interesting. What I am saying is that charming quirks should not define one’s life; they don't add up to a whole person. Being oneself, something fans of Deschanel praise her for doing, doesn't just mean being comfortably zany. To suggest otherwise is to diminish the complexity that actually makes people interesting. Apparently someone forgot to tell that to the spectacularly irritating Zooey Deschanel, who has made an entire career out of the conceit of the manic pixie dream girl real, much to my chagrin. Indeed, it is her contentedness to present herself as weird for weirdness' sake that makes her seem vapid and bland.
Whatever it is that Deschanel has done to capture the hearts and minds of the 20-something bearded set – and those who market their products toward them – I seem to have missed the memo. I much prefer characters in entertainment and real people who are defined by more than eccentricities, like by their smarts, their relationships, their careers, and their principles. Call me crazy, but substance will never take precedence over the merits of a personalized Chicken Dance.
Today, I feel differently.
Today, while I was eating a warm falafel sandwich and watching The Replacements for the tenth time on TBS, Ms. Deschanel's reallyfuckingstupid iPhone commercial came on. My reactions, in order of how I experienced them, went something like this:
Why is this commercial still in rotation? Why are you asking Siri if it's raining outside when when it's clearly raining outside? Who the hell orders tomato soup for delivery? OPEN A FUCKING CAMPBELL'S SOUP CAN. For the love of God, please stop dancing like an 8-year-old boy watching a Barney sing along.I don't ordinarily react to television commercials this way. Needless to say, I strongly dislike Zooey Deschanel, and for a plethora of reasons. There's the acting critique: that she plays hollow characters whose chief characteristics are their beauty and ability to attract men (see all of her movies). There’s the real-life critique: that she is troublingly girlish, even childish (see her website, HelloGiggles, or her Twitter feed, where she once wrote, "I wish everyone looked like a kitten." WTF?). Still, my biggest problem with the actress du jour has to do with a message she pushes implicitly, but incessantly: that the measure of a person’s character - the test of what makes him or her nuanced and compelling - is the magnitude of endearing personality quirks.
Think about it. Have you ever seen Deschanel when she is not doing something twee or "adorkable," to quote the Fox marketing execs shamelessly shilling her awful show "The New Girl?" Has she ever just been real and not some hipster masturbation fantasy? The entire show is premised on how darn "cute" and "odd" Zooey is because she's a free spirit who lives with a bunch of dudes. Isn’t that hilarious?! It is, because she wears glasses! And is all flibbertigibbetygoo! Jesus.
I know what you might say: It's just an act. But it can't be argued that Deschanel's persona in film and tv apply equally to her public, off-screen life. Deschanel has called her character in The New Girl a "perfect fit." In interviews, she seems programmed to talk and behave exclusively as an adorable oddball. The New York profile describes her replying to a journalist who asks her about her cuteness by covering her ears because that’s what “my mom told me [to do] when I get compliments.” She plays the ukulele and is apparently learning circus tumbling. In an April appearance on Craig Ferguson’s late-night show, she talked about why she doesn’t consider Scotland a part of Europe (because it’s an island, more or less) and the challenges of mini-golf, and she played the harmonica. On HelloGiggles, she regularly posts videos of herself looking doe-eyed at the camera while performing retro karaoke for adoring fans. My favorite post (no) from last year: a doodle she drew of a robot that gardens. "He rolls around and finds all of those cherry tomato bushes you planted and kohlrabi seed rows you forgot about and actually cultivates them."
I’m not saying there's anything necessarily problematic about being quirky: with singing spontaneously, wearing fake teeth for fun, or dreaming up robots. It’s a character trait, which in moderation, can be quite interesting. What I am saying is that charming quirks should not define one’s life; they don't add up to a whole person. Being oneself, something fans of Deschanel praise her for doing, doesn't just mean being comfortably zany. To suggest otherwise is to diminish the complexity that actually makes people interesting. Apparently someone forgot to tell that to the spectacularly irritating Zooey Deschanel, who has made an entire career out of the conceit of the manic pixie dream girl real, much to my chagrin. Indeed, it is her contentedness to present herself as weird for weirdness' sake that makes her seem vapid and bland.
Whatever it is that Deschanel has done to capture the hearts and minds of the 20-something bearded set – and those who market their products toward them – I seem to have missed the memo. I much prefer characters in entertainment and real people who are defined by more than eccentricities, like by their smarts, their relationships, their careers, and their principles. Call me crazy, but substance will never take precedence over the merits of a personalized Chicken Dance.
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