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| Credit: Vulture |
In the melodramatic version of high school presented by
Rise, there are two polar archetypes of “Manhood” with a capital “M”: football
and theater.
Theater guys tend to talk about their feelings whereas football
players tend to bury it away because it supposedly gets in the way of glorious
character-building manly labor. Theater
guys are comfortable with all manners of non-straightness and might even be
somewhere on the LGBQT spectrum, whereas football guys are too busy dealing
with their magnetic allure to the opposite sex to notice such things.
Granted, "Rise" didn’t invent these stereotypes, but the show
seems too lazy at times to portray its world any other way. This thematic axis
guides the development of nearly everything in the world. The show’s alpha male
characters, Mr. Mazzou and Robbie discover their self-actualization in the
world of theater which refines their more masculine edges. It’s here that they
both get in touch with their feminine sides (primarily being empathetic) needed
to navigate all the challenges in their lives that require feelings and all
that gooey stuff.
Mr. Mazzou needs to recognize Mrs. Wolfe as an asset and
find the words needed to communicate with Simon's about why their son
should stay in Staunton. One might call his two encounters with Mr. and Mrs. Saunders an arc of sorts: In the first encounter, he tries to us his masculinity to
stake out his territory and puts his foot in the door when Simon’s mom tries to
close it. But he lacks the words to follow through. Later, he’s miraculously
granted the words (supposedly by being humbled by Mrs. Wolfe). Similarly,
Robbie doesn’t yet have the words to put his crush at ease that he would be
faithful to her but he’s getting there.
For the show’s reductive dichotomy of manhood, it at least
gets credit for not villainizing the school of Strickland completely. Gordy,
who’s been overly feminized in the world of theater, finds the lack of
conversation with Strickland therapeutic in dealing with his punishment. Of
course, there’s a separate conversation to be had over whether the punishment
fits the crime in terms of drug offenses, but we’ll save that for another day.
Interestingly enough, Strickland lacks the words to express what he needs to
say to Vanessa so he has the same problems as Robbie and Mr. Mazzou. But
Strickland has presumably gotten as far as he has in connecting with Vanessa
because he’s capable of showing what he means through gestures. A cell phone
cover doesn’t really fall under the category of Valentine’s gifts, but whatever
floats your boat, Vanessa.
Beyond the character arcs themselves, there’s a lot to
appreciate about the way Rise as a whole shows without words. Consider how well
the interactions between Robbie and Lilliean encapsulate the sweetness of being
out with your crush and the visceral awkwardness of feeling out your potential
partner. This is also a week where (as
far as we know), Simon might be saying goodbye to the theater program that has
given him so much. The sadness behind Simon’s eyes as he announces his
departure to the group and that tear-swelling hug with Mrs. Wolfe are both
well-deserved moments. True, the music’s a little sappy but it’s hard to
understate the emotional impact of these moments. One might call it a masculine
touch on a traditionally feminime genre, but if you throw the dichotomy away,
it’s a visually poetic and effective way of storytelling.
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