You can't peer into an artist's mind. It's not ever possible to make, with certainty, statements about intention.
That said, you can notice certain parallels. Let's look at Lena Dunham's famous script, "American B*tch." It's about a charismatic predator. He has enjoyed great success in the world of the arts. He has an African-American ex-wife. He has a depressed and artistically-inclined daughter whom he really, clearly loves. His name is Chuck Palmer.
Let's look at Louis CK. He has enjoyed great success in the world of the arts. On his show, he has an African-American ex-wife. On his show, he has a depressed and artistically-inclined daughter whom he really, clearly loves. On his show, and in actual life, he is a famous masturbator. One who "palms" his "chuck." "Chuck" is a synonym for "meat," and "meat" is a euphemism for the male genitalia. "Chuck Palmer." One who palms "meat." (I also can't help but notice "Chuck" starts with a "C" and ends with a "K," and has "CK" embedded in the end of the syllable.)
Hannah Horvath expresses great admiration for the work of Chuck Palmer. Lena Dunham seems to have borrowed, in her work, from Louis CK: There's a common sensibility. A willingness to be brutally honest, to practice self-mortification. "Unwatchable in the best way." One notices certain parallels.
-"American B*tch" works so well because it raises so many questions, without trying to provide pat answers. Is Hannah somewhat complicit in what occurs in that apartment? Note the way she sneaks off to check the smell of her own armpits (I love this). Note her horror at the thing her own hand has done (I love this, too). How can a guy who is so clearly a good dad also be such a wolf? (Note how Matthew Rhys has an animal grin--aimed directly at Hannah--even as he seems to be speaking to his own daughter. Rhys deserved many awards for this half hour.) Is "apparent consent" really consent--when there's a major power imbalance, and when the young woman does not feel entitled to take time to think about her response? How often do people mishear deliberately evasive responses--and if your loins/head hears something different from what your wise heart hears, what do you do? When you act too quickly, how do you then express regret, and how do you atone? What is an adequate level of contrition, and who makes this determination?
-Philip Roth is discussed in this episode, but the writer I really think of is David Mamet. (Mamet's daughter, Zosia, made her name on "Girls," and my love for her performance only grows and grows.) When I watch "American B*tch," I recall Mamet's "Oleanna," which takes a similar situation and insists on representing both points of view. Neither character ever seems less than human; it's possible to understand where/how both are "operating," mentally and emotionally. In an oppressive situation, both the oppressor and the oppressed are at least slightly impaired. No one actually wins when there is oppression (though, obviously, the oppressor has a sense of comfort and power, at least on a superficial level, that is not available to the oppressed).
-Another thing that distinguishes Dunham's script: The sense of autobiography. Hannah states some of the most memorable lines you encounter in "Girls," and they seem to be Dunham's private mission statement: "I am a writer. I want to make others feel less alone than I felt. And I want to help people find ways to laugh at things that are painful for them." I also suspect Dunham is speaking from the heart when she gives this monologue to Hannah: "My fifth grade teacher favored me. I was his prize student. I wrote him a little novel. During class, he would stand behind me and massage my head and neck. Every day. He wouldn't ask. Recently, I ran into a classmate and said, Omigod, do you remember Mr. X? He basically molested me every day. And my classmate didn't sympathize. His first response? So defensive. Hannah, that's a very serious accusation." Who wouldn't recognize this as "lived experience"? And who hasn't been in Hannah/Lena's shoes--or something like those shoes?
-At times, the episode comes close to feeling like a thesis statement, and people have said that the character, in her articulateness and maturity, seems more like Dunham than like the Hannah we've known. Fair enough. But I really admire the shifting tones of this half hour: The way we go from sparring, to shared understanding, to a shocking confrontation. This feels like actual life. And the curve-balls: The sudden appearance of the daughter, the wife's phone call, the discovery of the Roth novel. (At the start, the weird, charged monologue about where to put one's shoes--the sense of Palmer's control-freak nature--might remind the viewer of things he/she has heard about Louis CK's work habits. "I write the script. You will not contribute. That's how it has to be. This is not about sharing ideas. I have one way to do it, and it is the only way it can be done." Well, one might think of those lines: They are the way Louis CK described the process behind his famous Dane Cook "Louie" episode. Just saying.)
-This is an anguished, subtle half hour. Hannah arrives; Hannah fights; Hannah is changed. What can't Dunham accomplish? So inspired by this episode!
That said, you can notice certain parallels. Let's look at Lena Dunham's famous script, "American B*tch." It's about a charismatic predator. He has enjoyed great success in the world of the arts. He has an African-American ex-wife. He has a depressed and artistically-inclined daughter whom he really, clearly loves. His name is Chuck Palmer.
Let's look at Louis CK. He has enjoyed great success in the world of the arts. On his show, he has an African-American ex-wife. On his show, he has a depressed and artistically-inclined daughter whom he really, clearly loves. On his show, and in actual life, he is a famous masturbator. One who "palms" his "chuck." "Chuck" is a synonym for "meat," and "meat" is a euphemism for the male genitalia. "Chuck Palmer." One who palms "meat." (I also can't help but notice "Chuck" starts with a "C" and ends with a "K," and has "CK" embedded in the end of the syllable.)
Hannah Horvath expresses great admiration for the work of Chuck Palmer. Lena Dunham seems to have borrowed, in her work, from Louis CK: There's a common sensibility. A willingness to be brutally honest, to practice self-mortification. "Unwatchable in the best way." One notices certain parallels.
-"American B*tch" works so well because it raises so many questions, without trying to provide pat answers. Is Hannah somewhat complicit in what occurs in that apartment? Note the way she sneaks off to check the smell of her own armpits (I love this). Note her horror at the thing her own hand has done (I love this, too). How can a guy who is so clearly a good dad also be such a wolf? (Note how Matthew Rhys has an animal grin--aimed directly at Hannah--even as he seems to be speaking to his own daughter. Rhys deserved many awards for this half hour.) Is "apparent consent" really consent--when there's a major power imbalance, and when the young woman does not feel entitled to take time to think about her response? How often do people mishear deliberately evasive responses--and if your loins/head hears something different from what your wise heart hears, what do you do? When you act too quickly, how do you then express regret, and how do you atone? What is an adequate level of contrition, and who makes this determination?
-Philip Roth is discussed in this episode, but the writer I really think of is David Mamet. (Mamet's daughter, Zosia, made her name on "Girls," and my love for her performance only grows and grows.) When I watch "American B*tch," I recall Mamet's "Oleanna," which takes a similar situation and insists on representing both points of view. Neither character ever seems less than human; it's possible to understand where/how both are "operating," mentally and emotionally. In an oppressive situation, both the oppressor and the oppressed are at least slightly impaired. No one actually wins when there is oppression (though, obviously, the oppressor has a sense of comfort and power, at least on a superficial level, that is not available to the oppressed).
-Another thing that distinguishes Dunham's script: The sense of autobiography. Hannah states some of the most memorable lines you encounter in "Girls," and they seem to be Dunham's private mission statement: "I am a writer. I want to make others feel less alone than I felt. And I want to help people find ways to laugh at things that are painful for them." I also suspect Dunham is speaking from the heart when she gives this monologue to Hannah: "My fifth grade teacher favored me. I was his prize student. I wrote him a little novel. During class, he would stand behind me and massage my head and neck. Every day. He wouldn't ask. Recently, I ran into a classmate and said, Omigod, do you remember Mr. X? He basically molested me every day. And my classmate didn't sympathize. His first response? So defensive. Hannah, that's a very serious accusation." Who wouldn't recognize this as "lived experience"? And who hasn't been in Hannah/Lena's shoes--or something like those shoes?
-At times, the episode comes close to feeling like a thesis statement, and people have said that the character, in her articulateness and maturity, seems more like Dunham than like the Hannah we've known. Fair enough. But I really admire the shifting tones of this half hour: The way we go from sparring, to shared understanding, to a shocking confrontation. This feels like actual life. And the curve-balls: The sudden appearance of the daughter, the wife's phone call, the discovery of the Roth novel. (At the start, the weird, charged monologue about where to put one's shoes--the sense of Palmer's control-freak nature--might remind the viewer of things he/she has heard about Louis CK's work habits. "I write the script. You will not contribute. That's how it has to be. This is not about sharing ideas. I have one way to do it, and it is the only way it can be done." Well, one might think of those lines: They are the way Louis CK described the process behind his famous Dane Cook "Louie" episode. Just saying.)
-This is an anguished, subtle half hour. Hannah arrives; Hannah fights; Hannah is changed. What can't Dunham accomplish? So inspired by this episode!
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