Abstract
Male exclusive spaces enable and dismiss discussion of misogynist violence, as they did during the 2017 U.S. presidential election. In the decade and a half prior, men-only, homosocial, domestic “man caves” became a cultural trend. Given man caves’ popularity and potential to enable patriarchal oppression, we ask: what do man caves suggest about masculinity’s vitality in an era wherein patriarchy reigns, but challenges to hegemonic masculinity are evident? To answer, we textually analyze Man Caves, DIY (Do-It-Yourself) cable channel’s renovation reality show. From a feminist perspective, we examine how Man Caves constructs “neo-orthodox masculinity,” our term for masculinity that recovers and challenges old forms of masculine capital. Through mutually contradictory themes, Man Caves makes over masculinity in ways that respond to feminism as a movement to end patriarchy. We conclude by considering how feminist anger, hope, and activism may exploit the vulnerabilities that neo-orthodox masculinity highlights.
Keywords
As we revised this essay for publication, the United States elected a president who dismissed his taped comments that he “grabs” women by the “pussy” as “locker room talk” (Parker 2016). Such dismissal is dangerous because it normalizes sexual violence as routine, expected male behavior that men admit when away from women. “Locker room” normalizes sexual assault through its cultural status as a male-exclusive space that supports an array of patriarchal practices. Scholars understand locker rooms as men-only spaces that reproduce male privilege through claims to physical superiority over women and sexual objectification of them (Curry 1991; Kane and Disch 1993). As masculine enclaves, locker rooms contain “dangerously sexist” rituals of “bro culture” and provide cover for beliefs that normalize sexual assault (Keith 2011). Now is a critical time to investigate the role that men-only spaces play in preserving patriarchy as a system of domination and oppression.
“Man caves” are one such space. Masculine, homosocial, and usually domestic, man caves have emerged as a cultural trend over the past decade and a half. Although men’s retreat to homosocial enclaves dates back centuries, the etymology of the phrase “man caves” points to its contemporary cultural significance. Responding to its ascendance in the popular lexicon, Merriam-Webster added “man cave” to its collegiate dictionary in 2012 with the meaning “a room or space (as in a basement) designed according to the taste of the man of the house to be used as his personal area for hobbies and leisure activities” (Leasca 2012). Predating Merriam-Webster, the crowdsourced dictionary of slang, Urban Dictionary, posted its “top definition” of man caves in 2004 as “a room, space, corner or area of a dwelling that is specifically reserved for a male person . . . without interference from any female influence” (Evans 2004). Since 2008, ManCavesite.org has served as an online “community” for wisdom on building spaces without women where “a man can be a man” (Yost 2016). As of February 2017, the site boasted more than nine thousand members who have made nearly fifty thousand posts. Around the same time, home renovation and real estate industries promoted man caves as retreats “without the nagging of a wife or the whining of kids” (Making the Ultimate 2009; see also Downey 2007; Gunther 2014). Amazon.com sells thousands of pieces of man cave furniture and décor items and Home Depot has offered man cave paint since 2011 (Firshein 2011). By January 2017, the phrase “man caves” had generated hundreds of thousands of Pinterest posts (“pins”), and the home renovation site Houzz posted more than twenty thousand “man caves” photos.
Feminist scholars have critiqued man caves’ emergence. Pamela Nettleton (2016) and Lauren Jade Thompson (2013) argue that man caves articulate old forms of hegemonic masculinity with new postfeminist ones. Thompson (2013, 149) illustrates how the man cave featured in John Hamburg’s bromance I Love You Man (2009) marks men-only spaces in response to postfeminist media that sees “men as disruptive and dirty presences in feminine or familial domestic spaces.” Nettleton (2016, 569) contends that man caves domestically situate “homosocial segregation” following the rise of “male-centered television series and their boys’ club narratives” around the turn of the twenty-first century. Like the locker rooms to which the U.S. president alludes, televisual male-exclusive spaces are dangerous because they enable “uncritical expression of retrograde, sexist attitudes and harassing behaviors” (Nettleton 2016, 574).
In light of popular and academic interest in man caves and given that the U.S. president who was inaugurated in early 2017 invoked male-exclusive space to excuse his discussion of sexual violence, this article asks: what does building man caves suggest about the vitality of masculine identities in an era in which patriarchy reigns but challenges to hegemonic masculinity are evident? During the past decade and a half, more specifically, media have articulated hegemonic masculinity in ways that preserve patriarchy (Kluch 2015; Nettleton 2016) but disavow its support mechanisms via “post-closet” (Becker 2007, 2009), “inclusive” masculinities (Anderson 2009). 1 What, then, do man caves tell us about the status of masculinity and today’s brand of masculine “crisis?” 2
To get at the contradictions surrounding masculinity and patriarchy that man caves highlight, we analyze the Do-It-Yourself (DIY) cable channel’s renovation reality show, Man Caves (2007–). Hosted by hulking ex-National Football League (NFL) defensive tackle Tony “The Goose” Siragusa and chiseled fitness model/professional contractor, Jason Cameron, Man Caves renovates distal basements, garages, backyards, outbuildings, and the occasional living room and kitchen, “because . . . there’s an environment for every guy that makes him feel fulfilled” (“About the Show” 2016). Since its June 2007 debut on Scripps Networks’ DIY, Man Caves has renovated more than 150 spaces in fourteen seasons. 3 Man Caves demonstrates how heterosexually coupled and (straight) single male homeowners build and benefit from such spaces. We say “(straight)” to flag that when outed, men’s sexuality is hetero on Man Caves, and the show identifies no out gay cast members. Thus, Man Caves promotes a heteronormative view of sexuality wherein heterosexuality is assumed and universalized (Warner 1991). Transgressions from heteronormative masculinity routinely occur, however, and supply dialogue and laughs by making room for “queer straight masculinity” (Becker 2009), where straight men enjoy queer moments, and in so doing, challenge homophobia, a support mechanism of patriarchy.
This article updates feminist media and masculinity studies in light of what may be remembered as the “man caves moment.” 4 Applying a feminist perspective, we conduct a textual analysis of Man Caves to examine how it not only reworks masculine identities and recovers old forms of masculine capital but also nuances, plays with, and talks back to patriarchal masculine performances. Through a set of mutually contradictory themes, Man Caves makes over masculinity in ways that respond to, accept, and reject feminism as a movement to end patriarchy (understood as a system of male dominance over women and other men).
We call the patriarchal masculinities that Man Caves retrofits into domestic space neo-orthodox. The neologism is ours. Neo-orthodox gets at how new/old masculinities operate on Man Caves and through the wider cultural trend of building such spaces. Drawing from Eric Anderson (2009), Raewyn Connell (1987, 2005), and Michael Kimmel (2006), we understand “orthodox masculinity” as an “archetype” that expresses hegemonic masculinity. Following Connell and Anderson, we recognize hegemonic masculinity as a Gramscian process of control through consent and appropriation and as a process of stratification of masculine identities. Furthermore, Anderson’s argument that the archetype orthodox masculinity is always under construction, eschews effeminacy and homosexuality, and supports heteronormativity and patriarchy helps us understand Man Caves’ masculinities (Anderson 2009, 31). The “gay friendly” post-closet era that emerged in the late 1990s, as Ron Becker (2009, 2014) demonstrates, complicates media performances of orthodox masculine archetypes as does resentment toward patriarchy that Amanda Lotz (2014) finds in today’s new “new men” of cable TV.
Debuting after the housing boom stalled, and, having expanded into regular DIY programming in the 2007–2009 recession, Man Caves also provides a rationale for renovating post-crash. Man cave renovations, the show implies, are crash proof. Instead of promising to flip-this-house after renovating, Man Caves recenters the home as refuge for male (and straight, often partnered) homeowners and, in so doing, further nuances postrecessionary depictions of domestic gender relations (Snelson 2014).
As we argue in the sections below, Man Caves constructs neo-orthodox masculinity through three pairs of contradictory themes. These themes form paradoxical couplets wherein the first theme affirms what the second denies. The first pair asserts male householders’ need for masculinizing spaces of their own to allay fears of contagious effeminacy but permits women into man caves. The second promotes building man caves as enabling bonding between men but negates itself by inviting women to build them. The third reclaims domestic space for bromantic, homosocial bonding but flirts with “queer straight masculinities” (Becker 2009, 121).
Our analysis begins by discussing key histories and theories that explain the “menagerie of contradictions” (Lotz 2014, 1) through which Man Caves imagines masculinity. Next, we discuss our method and conduct close readings of scenes that illustrate how Man Caves constructs neo-orthodox masculinity. Our analysis section, “Man Caves’ Neo-Orthodox Masculinity” is organized around the three paradoxical thematic pairs. Analysis attends to how episodes “make room” (Spigel 1992) for neo-orthodox masculinity in ways that complement postfeminist, post-closet, and postrecessionary masculinities (Becker 2009, 2014; Negra and Tasker 2014). 5 We conclude by considering what Man Caves and the wider cultural practice suggest about how neo-orthodox masculinity promises to sustain and strain the very foundations of patriarchy.
Something Old, Something New: Man Caves’ Histories and Theories
Man caves and their representation on the DIY channel put a new gloss on the enduring U.S. tradition of men’s retreating to masculinized spaces during crises that threaten patriarchy. 6 During the mid-nineteenth century, American men fled to the outdoors and headed West to elude new forms of industrial labor control that promoted faster-paced work for less pay (including the institution of wages), and consequently, masculine competitiveness. Heading West again at the turn of the twentieth century, men such as Teddy Roosevelt frequented dude ranches to masculinize themselves in the face of urbanization, industrialization, and feminine Victorian domestic décor (Kimmel 2006). Late Victorian-era fraternal organizations that met in “lodges” (i.e., the Freemasons and Elks) and “temples” (including the Shriners) provided escape by hosting men’s social activities outside the home.
Creating man caves also harks back to the domestic do-it-yourself craze of the twentieth century. Steven Gelber’s (1997) history of American men’s domestic DIY illustrates how home renovation reconstructed masculine identities through “recreation with tools” (Gelber 1997, 75). Home renovation engaged men in “domestic masculinity,” Gelber’s (1997) term for masculine identity that emerged as men bonded via building at home. Gelber contrasts domestic masculinity with late nineteenth/early twentieth century’s “masculine domesticity” (Marsh 1988, 166), wherein men undertook “women’s work” such as childrearing and home decorating. Puttering in the “factory in miniature” at home “soothed the troubled minds of men when they returned from the city by providing them with a masculine alternative to effete office work” (Gelber 1997, 75, 77). In addition to supporting homosocial relationships between men, domestic-masculine spaces yielded furniture and home repair for all householders. Man caves, similarly, promise to “remasculinize” (Jeffords 1989) men by referencing traditional notions about rigid gender differences in a time when gender categories seem to be dissolving. Unlike the twentieth century’s domestic-masculine spaces where men made products for the home, today’s man caves promise remasculinization by customizing spaces for male homeowners’ consumption. 7
More than a neologism, man caves perform paradox in new ways. With an animal skin–draped cave man for an icon, ManCaveSite.org touts man caves as “a sacred place for men” but takes pains to “dispel one of the most common myths associated with man caves: ‘Women are not allowed.’” More to the point, “Women are allowed (although some insist it’s by invitation only),” however, “they just do not have decorating authority.” Similarly, DIY channel’s Man Caves marks masculine boundaries only to abandon them before, during, and after construction. In addition, man caves may be touted as “free of female influence,” but their centrality in the home is minimized. Man caves are routinely built in domestic spaces that are “tucked away” (Yost 2016). Thus, man caves are central and marginal to today’s renovation of masculinity.
Such contradictions articulate an ambivalence toward hegemonic masculinity (Connell 1987, 2005) that complements postfeminist culture’s acknowledgment and dismissal of feminism (Gill 2007; Lazar 2009; Lotz 2001; McRobbie 2004; Mumford and Waters 2014). In so doing, man caves promote “postfeminist masculinity” (Byers 1995, 419; Clark 2014, 447; Dow 2006, 113; Nettleton 2016, 565; Projansky 2001, 107). As we discuss below, Man Caves’ brand of postfeminist masculinity responds to the gains of feminism and women as well as to the erosion of homophobia (such gains and erosion are real but demand continued activism). Man Caves, moreover, contributes to “postfeminist television” (Lotz 2001) that constructs nostalgic spatial “retreats” for performances of masculinities that ultimately support patriarchy (Clark 2014, 451; see also Hamad 2014; Nettleton 2016; Tincknell 2010). These retreats promote but also play with and critique “orthodox masculine” identities (Anderson 2009, 8) in ways that suggest both comfort and unease with today’s sociohistorical conjuncture, where men engage with new masculine identities but do so in ways that may shake patriarchy’s foundations or leave the system intact (Kimmel 2013).
Drawing from Anderson’s conceptualization of “orthodox masculinity,” we analyze how Man Caves invokes older, throwback masculinities and renovates them to make sense in postfeminist media. Furthermore, we find useful Anderson’s (2009, 8) argument that “conservative” forms of masculinity are best understood as “orthodox” rather than “hegemonic” because they lose cultural dominance when homohysteria wanes. 8 To be sure, the status of conservative forms of masculinity (and homohysteria) is debatable. Man Caves, as we discuss below, mocks as it promotes conservative masculine tenets: that men be physically strong, dominate women, and eschew femininity. When Man Caves’ cohosts exhort guests to eschew symbols of the feminine, however, they adhere to the orthodox masculine tenet that men “not be, act or behave in ways attributed to women” (Anderson 2009, 34). Because contemporary neoliberalism demands that men get in touch with their feminine, emotionally attentive side (Adkins 2001; McDowell 1997; Sender 2006), eschewing signs of femininity should be understood as “orthodox” (old-fashioned and outdated). Additionally, in today’s “post-closet era” (Becker 2007, 2009), orthodox masculinity co-exists with “inclusive masculinities” that are marked by acceptance and inclusion of gay masculinities and straight men’s heterofemininities (Anderson 2009, 8). The show also shares some ground with closet-era TV by omitting out gay, lesbian, bi-, trans, and queer cast members. As we discuss below, Man Caves’ symbolic annihilation of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer (LGBTQ) individuals (Gross 1991) makes homosocial flirtations between hosts and cast members appear profoundly ambivalent.
In case it is not clear, we want to underscore that although we find Anderson’s conceptualization of orthodox masculinity useful, we oppose the postfeminist dismissal of feminism and its “erasure of sexual politics” that may be implied by celebrations of “inclusive masculinity” (O’Neill 2015, 101). Rachel O’Neill faults Anderson’s (2009) theorization of inclusive masculinity and attendant research for such dismissal and erasure. Thus, we incorporate O’Neill’s critique into our analysis from the start, but we find Anderson’s (2009) conceptualization of orthodox masculinity useful in explaining patriarchy’s perseverance and vulnerability amid a flood of change.
Method
To get at how Man Caves attends to old, new, and ambivalent masculine identities, we analyzed the series in waves that allowed us to connect textual with historical, cultural, political, and economic developments. First, the authors watched Man Caves’ five-episode debut (S1 E1 to S1 E5). We noted key themes that communicated how Man Caves imagined contemporary and retrograde masculinities. Next, we viewed the 154 original episodes that aired through January 1, 2015 with questions generated through our first viewing, including: “what narrative techniques does Man Caves use to repair and renovate masculinity?”; “what problems around gender and sexuality does Man Caves promise to solve?” We watched shows individually and met to revise questions based on discussions of key moments on the show. Our recursive approach enabled us to analyze Man Caves’ multilayered, paradoxical, and new-yet-old masculinity. Man Caves constructs neo-orthodox masculinity through the contradictory couplets we discuss in the following section.
Man Caves’ Neo-Orthodox Masculinity
The Problem That Has No Name: “A Brother in Need” of His Own Space
Man Caves constructs the contradictory couplet that promises male-exclusive space on one hand, but affords women’s entrance on the other. Thus, the very premise of the show is shot through with contradiction. Man Caves promises neo-orthodox masculinity by building spaces for men who cohabitate with female partners (or soon will). Heteronormative constructions of masculinity have long implied that such cohabitation puts men at risk for becoming feminized. Fear of contagious effeminacy, the problem that has no name for heteronormative men, is evidenced in the first episode, “Prepping the Man Cave” (S1 E1). The opening narration hints at homeowner Larry’s problem: “The Goose rolls into Massachusetts to greet Larry Cannalonga and his best friends who would do anything to support a brother in need.” Subsequent scenes specify that relationships and labor springing from Larry’s heteronormativity have feminized him. As Goose introduces Larry, the camera cuts to the kitchen where he feeds his baby daughter. Upon meeting Larry and wife Toni in the kitchen decorated with (potentially feminizing) fresh flowers, Goose notes, “Very pretty, very nice . . . [camera zooms in on the flowers] You . . . definitely . . . need a man cave.” Larry’s basement man cave promises to remasculinize him by constructing four elaborate male-exclusive rooms through the redemptive work of DIY labor that enables escape and homosocial bonding (Gelber 1997; Jeffords 1989).
The tension between Man Caves’ promotion of exclusivity and porosity characterizes the neo-orthodox masculinity that the show constructs. Man Caves imagines the spaces as male-exclusive throughout the series by emphasizing the term “man caves,” a phrase that, on its face, asserts exclusivity (Thompson 2013). One tongue-in-cheek monologue that Goose delivers to Cannalonga’s baby daughter bans women and babies:
Here are some things I have to go over with you . . . No women allowed in the man cave ever. No diapers or nippies or bottles. No crying (only unless the Patriots lose a really close game). You understand that? (S1 E1)
However, by exaggerating the terms of admission and joking about exceptions to “no crying,” Goose’s rules seem meant to be broken.
The above scene becomes a familiar one. Throughout seasons, cohosts Goose and Jason humorously and hyperbolically tout man caves’ male exclusivity when they specify admissible people, practices, and items. These instances, like Goose’s chiding of baby Cannalonga, evidence the “jocular policing of masculinity” that Lotz (2014, 116-117) finds characteristic of “homosocial enclaves.” Man Caves’ jocularity, however, throws its policing of masculinity into question. After spotting homeowner Mike’s potentially feminizing scented candles, Goose and Jason despair, “this vanilla scent . . . isn’t good” (S1 E9). In hyperbolic indignation, Goose screams at the candles, measures his pulse, and confesses, “I’m horrified. Like, ‘Oh my God, is this the right house?’ Scented candles?! As a man, I was offended.” Punctuating his disapproval, Goose dumps the candles into the hallway. Goose and Jason steer men away from other feminizing indulgences, such as wearing pink and reading directions (S4 E5, S6 E5) and toward masculinizing accoutrements like urinals, “the ultimate man cave accessory” (S2 E5). Eight seasons into Man Caves, hosts discourage women from entering, as Goose does when wife Kimberly asks if the “Hi-Tech Country Club” is “my basement?” (S8 E6). Goose retorts, “Well it was your basement, now it’s his.” Such assertions mark territory for brothers “in need,” but the hosts’ behavior also creates interpretive space wherein viewers may embrace and renounce pre-second-wave assumptions that men require their own spaces in which to be men. Man Caves’ winking endorsements of masculine enclaves ultimately melt into invitations for women’s inclusion.
Caving in: The Jocular Admission of Women
Contradicting reprimands that man caves maintain male exclusivity, Man Caves’ hosts capitulate to women and feminine symbols. The jocular policing of masculinity gives way to the jocular admission of femininity in S3 E9’s candle-embracing “Moroccan Cave” when Jason warns, “Don’t tell Goose . . . If he found out, he would probably throw them [the candles] out the window.” When the homeowner’s girlfriend advocates for access, Jason equivocates, “I don’t know, I think this is a man and woman cave,” hedging further, “Right now it’s a man cave. You guys can deal with that later on.” In one midseries episode, the show moves from Goose’s counseling wife Kimberly against entering the “High-Tech Country Club” to her confession, “I was a little worried that it’s gonna be like a man cave, but it’s very woman-friendly, and I can see myself in there definitely” (S8 E6).
By vacillating between policing and permitting women, Man Caves showcases ambivalence toward orthodox masculinity. After declaring S6 E5’s “Stay at Home Dad” cave off limits to family members, Goose encourages access for the homeowner’s wife: “Mike gets to go relax and watch a ball game, but when Janine comes home maybe they can spend some time together, because this is something . . . they are really going to enjoy.” When Goose returns to his no-women-allowed position, Mike plays with orthodox masculinity by joking to his wife, “Honey, this is the man cave! Men don’t cry! This is a man cave! I’m a man!” Mike punctuates his hyperbole with a chest thump, a move that declares and dismisses orthodox masculine affinity. Summing up the multiple ways to read the couple’s intentions for the space, Jason observes, “I don’t know if he’s ever going to leave the room . . . and if he does, it’s because Janine kicked him out. She was already looking to see where she was gonna put her stuff. So . . . good luck, Mike” (S6 E5).
In these scenes, Man Caves references orthodox masculinity only to question it later. This paradox gives Man Caves’ orthodox masculinity its neo edge. Neo-orthodox masculinity, moreover, affirms and disavows patriarchy and second-wave feminist victories against it (Anderson 2009; Clark 2014; Lazar 2009; Lotz 2001, 2014). In this way, the series complements television content that constructs “postfeminist masculinities” (Byers 1995; Clark 2014; Dow 2006; Projansky 2001). Without uttering the terms “feminism” or “women’s rights” explicitly, Man Caves constructs a neo-orthodox brand of postfeminist masculinity that simultaneously evokes nostalgia for prefeminist, male-only recreational retreats, and voices feminist insistence that leisure space be accessible to women.
Building as Bonding: Reconstructing DIY Domestic Masculinity
Although man caves prove porous leisure spaces, Man Caves makes a more specific, claim: building such spaces teaches DIY home renovation, a skill that imparts orthodox masculinity. This promise is later disavowed, but first we explore how Man Caves promises masculinization in ways that hark back to domestic masculinity. As Gelber (1997) and Marsh (1988) argue, popular cultural texts offered “recreation with tools” as playful, serious activity that enabled homosocial bonding. In a postfeminist twist, however, Man Caves does not take the promise seriously, even when only men build. Star homeowner Rainn Wilson promotes and parodies building’s remasculinizing promise. Retaining his sarcastic-comedic persona as Dwight Schrute of NBC’s The Office (2005–2013), Wilson rejoices in building a desk for his office cave, “I’m doing it! I’m making things! . . . I am a man! I have become a man!” (S3 E2). Several episodes later, homeowner Scott echoes Wilson without sarcasm, “I’m stoked to be involved in anything where I’m actually doing manly work” (S3 E6). In a comment that suggests both genuine and mock awe of Jason’s “Mr. Fixit” masculinity (Gelber 1997, 67), Scott thanks Jason for a tool belt, “You’re the man, dude, I never had a tool belt.” “I don’t even know how to put in a light,” Scott adds, “but I’m excited that I did it; I feel like a man.”
The humor with which homeowners perform building as masculinization, however, does not necessarily diminish its gravity. Demonstrating the significance of home renovation skills as a sign of masculinity, cast members tease each other about possessing such know-how before building. Before renovating a basement into a “Gamer Cave” (S6 E4), Goose needles homeowner Joe for lacking construction skills. Switching to a serious tone, Goose touts the apprentice-like training that his cohost will impart. Like the DIY home skills that men passed down to each other through generations (Gelber 1997), Man Caves offers homeowners and viewers an updated, reality TV–styled apprenticeship. Man Caves dedicates approximately six of the show’s thirty minutes to DIY building instruction. In such scenes, Jason tutors homeowners in exacting detail on measuring, operating tools, hanging drywall, assembling furniture, and more. Jason’s cut muscular body further conveys a masculine, artisanal labor discipline that twentieth century DIY home construction nostalgically referenced. Through Jason’s instruction and corporeality, Man Caves offers an orthodox masculinity built on old-fashioned discipline and skill.
Women Also Build
Despite implying that building is men’s work, Man Caves features women building. This contradiction puts a postfeminist, neo-orthodox gloss on Man Caves’ promise to remasculinize through home renovation. Upending the domestic masculinity dictum that power tools are for men only (Gelber 1997), S6 E2’s “Home Brew Pub” features wife Heather who describes herself as handier than her husband. She proves it by sawing wood, constructing bookshelves, and building pieces of the cave. Jason praises her labor, “This was a ton of work both of you participated in. I think this was probably the first time we had a wife do that much work.” Husband Marc agrees, “I’m going to be flat out honest. [Heather] pretty much did all the pre-work stuff while I just sat there and watched.” In another postfeminist twist that plays with orthodox masculinity, Goose deems Marc’s acknowledgment masculinizing, “At least you owned up to it, man. That was very manly of you.” Later, Heather’s construction labor earns her admittance. Marc concedes because, “[she] did most of the work!” and Goose concurs, “I would let her in here just in case you need to fix something.” Neo-orthodox masculine husbands, in other words, are manly enough to permit wives into man caves so they may fix something for them.
“Irish Sports Bar” (S3 E5) further evidences postfeminist ambivalence about orthodox masculinity’s durability via challenges from women who build. Before Goose asks the homeowner’s wife Christina and her mother Electra to stain wood for the cave, the women wax enthusiastically—and sarcastically—about the roses, angels, and pink they imagine for the bar. Victorian flute and violin music accompany shots of their vision, overlaid with text: “Man Cave Fact: Lace and flowers will ruin a Man Cave.” In a mock-but-maybe-seriously-misogynist aside, Jason complains that the women’s talk hurts his ears, while Goose rejects the feminine-frilly suggestions with a “GONG!” Foregrounding the women’s jocular policing of masculinity, Christina and Electra ask Goose about including a diaper-changing table. The hulking cohost allows it, on the condition that the baby is male. After Goose asks the women to stain wood, Jason explains to the mother-in-law the paradox of asking women to build but not enter, “Even though women can’t enjoy the man cave, we definitely appreciate that you are helping with the man cave. Thank you.” Electra accepts her exclusion, describing her work as an “honor.”
That women become agents in man caves’ construction and consumption reflects postfeminist ambivalence that articulates commercial interests. In addition to speaking to today’s queer(er) times, Man Caves speaks to DIY channel’s viewers, 52 percent of whom are women (“DIY Network” 2014). In addition, if Ad Age’s description of the network is any guide, DIY’s majority female audience helps make the channel “the No. 1 network in all cable for ad receptivity” and Scripps’ viewers “No. 1 in discretionary spending” (“Cable Guide” 2012). The home renovation and DIY media industry have converged on women since at least the mid-2000s (ahead of the housing crash) when Home Depot’s and Lowe’s “Do it Herself Workshops” and the Discovery Channel’s Toolbelt Diva (2004–2008) abandoned the hoary dictum that women avoid tools weighing more than a half pound (Gelber 1997, 70). Women are also an attractive audience for Man Caves because they generate content by recruiting husbands and boyfriends as guest homeowners. Thus, Man Caves reflects the contradictions of its narrowcast, user-generated sensibility: it represents women as wives/partners from whom male homeowners need refuge and encourages women to become active viewers who offer their (and their partners’) homes for renovation. Contradictions like these point to commercial motivations for postfeminist television’s neo-orthodox masculinity.
Bromantic Homosocial Spaces
Man Caves’ third paradoxical couplet constructs neo-orthodox masculinity by mobilizing and exceeding bromantic fellowship. More than a genre, bromance is a “cultural discourse” that appropriates codes of homosexual bonding to acknowledge possibilities of homosocial affiliation (Becker 2014, 235). For Michael DeAngelis (2014), The 40-Year Old Virgin (2005) marks popular culture’s mainstreaming of bromantic media that features intimate friendships between presumably straight men. Man Caves articulates one characteristic of bromance by pressing homosociality into countering fears of feminization (Anderson 2009; Becker 2014). Man Caves’ debut episode details close-knit “family” bonds between homeowner Larry and his friends. Jettisoning flirtatious innuendos typical of bromantic media, the episode relates the men’s service as groomsmen and godfathers in ways that underscore their heteronormativity (S1 E1). 9 Larry’s man cave promises to recuperate the intense bonding of the men’s postcollegiate house-sharing days, a time also infused with nostalgia for their collegiate fraternizing. Man Caves’ first five episodes imagine Larry’s four-room man cave as a dedicated homosocial enclave wherein his friends, nicknamed “The 508” (for their postcollegiate street address) will reunite to drink, play cards, watch sports, and work out. The 508 will learn how to “be men”—Goose’s words—by recovering homosocial activities they enjoyed in the early 1990s, a time that preceded our queer(er), post-closet era by two decades. The “508 Cave,” therefore, evidences postfeminist television content that Jennifer Clark (2014), Hannah Hamad (2014), and Estella Tincknell (2010) identify in other televisual renderings of nostalgic spatial retreats that promise safety and comfort for orthodox masculine performances that hark back to the closet era.
Illustrating one such performance is the spontaneous-but-scripted reality TV moment where 508 members perform Lotz’s “jocular policing of masculinity” in ways that recall orthodox masculine archetypes. The scene begins with Larry’s call to “wager up” on a football match against his friends and Goose (S1 E3). After Goose and Larry haze each other with, “do you want to shine my bus?” and “you wanna shine my toilet?” Larry recovers Goose’s kickoff only to get tackled by three 508 members. As if engaging in a fraternity prank, Goose binds Larry’s ankles and wrists with duct tape and The 508 deposit Larry into his postage stamp pond, at which point Goose demurs, “I ain’t cleanin’ no one’s toilet bowl.” In a confessional interview, Goose hurls an ableist slur at Larry’s petite physique, “I’m looking at this guy and I’m thinking, maybe . . . there’s a midget league.”
This scene rekindles bonds among former housemates as it promotes orthodox masculinity through slapstick humor. Getting “ponded” serves as punishment for Larry’s hubris in suggesting a contest against physically larger 508 friends and husky Super Bowl champion Goose. This scene also counters the potential effeminacy that Larry’s petite frame and pond present. Antics like these underscore Goose’s stated purpose, “I’m here to help Larry and the guys of the 508 become men in their man cave” (S1 E1). In addition, the scene evokes a closet-era sensibility by tapping athleticism to provide “immunity” from homosexual suspicion that handling Larry’s body may have raised (Anderson 2009, 42). The scene leaves room for interpretations that both neglect and underscore orthodox masculinity’s contemporary precarity. If we read Larry’s ponding as a masculine initiation rite, the show implies that Larry’s diminutive stature is credibly masculine; he is manly enough to be rehabbed on Man Caves’ debut. In contrast, the silly, over-the-topness of Larry’s fraternal baptism following the faux football match makes the entire masculine performance seem a ruse. 10
“Say ‘Jason, You’re Hot’”: Flirting with “Queer Straight Masculinity”
The antics featured on Man Caves also exceed the bromantic and flirt with queer masculinity. Goose figures heavily in this work, contributing to neo and orthodox masculinity. Super Bowl Championship ring on his finger (featured in close-ups), Goose regularly displays the masculine capital he amassed as an NFL defensive tackle, arguably the most physically aggressive, violent position in American sports (Messner 1990). Such credentials provide “near immunity from homosexual suspicion” (Anderson 2009, 42). Goose’s post-NFL gigs as a sportscaster and rib entrepreneur further augment his orthodox masculine bona fides. Goose’s orthodox masculine persona, however, also draws on hyperbole and parody that, like the over-the-top heterosexism on MTV’s short-lived Bromance (2008–2009), “creates enough irony-created wiggle room . . . to claim it’s just a joke” (Becker 2014, 244). Goose’s dalliances with the effeminate and queer detailed below also recall the “mock macho” performances Robert Hanke (1998, 76) locates in sitcoms such as Home Improvement (1991–1999) and Coach (1989–1997) that “simultaneously present men as objects of laughter and as subjects moving between ‘old’ and ‘new’ subject positions.”
Putting a neo-orthodox masculine gloss on his search for masculinizing décor for the 508’s poker room (S1 E3), Goose plays with being a feminized object of a portrait in a mall’s Glamour Shots. Experimenting with the photographer’s props for his photo shoot, Goose dons a flower wreath while nodding “no” and tossing aside fairy wings and “a boa?!” at which he balks, “a guy like me, a man like me?! This ain’t working.” The scene’s humor springs from contrasting the ex-NFL star’s heteromasculinity with the potentially feminizing/queering duds that reference and parody orthodox masculine tenets. Goose hyperbolically disowns the ladylike and fairylike, “I had to straighten this girl [photographer] out . . . Women don’t get it . . . It’s a MAN CAVE.” Goose’s word choice of “straighten” underscores the queering potential of his photo shoot. Unlike classic bromance wherein effeminacy displaces homophobia as the primary threat to homosocial bonding (Becker 2014), homophobia accompanies Goose’s femiphobia. Goose’s disavowal of the queer and feminine is so over the top, however, that it too could be read as a joke. We may read Goose’s performance, then, as asserting and mocking support for patriarchal power that is holding on tight but shows signs of waning (Tasker 1993).
Ambivalence toward femiphobia and homophobia reemerge when Man Caves’ production team builds while a woman styles star homeowner Rainn Wilson for his Golden Globes appearance (S3 E1). Outraged, Goose spews, “So I go in the house to go get Rainn, and the girl’s putting make-up on him.” “We’ve got a 300-pound beam we’ve gotta put up in your man cave,” Goose continues, “and you are getting . . . make up?” Wilson concedes, further enraging Goose who yells, “This is Man Caves, we can’t have this kind of thing . . . I see eyeliner!” Wilson returns Goose’s jocular policing of masculinity by poking fun at the source of Goose’s heteromasculine capital, “I can be a man and have make-up on. I am confident about my sexuality. I don’t spend my time in football locker rooms patting people on their little spandex buttocks.” Here, Wilson suggests Goose’s femiphobia is actually homophobia and criticizes Goose for the transgression. Wilson’s comments, however, may be read as betraying homophobia or implying that homophobia is not condoned by “real men” in today’s queer(er), post-closet era.
Elsewhere, Goose flirts with men by flaunting his masculine capital and jettisoning homophobic detritus. Whereas in earlier seasons, Goose warned men against hugging and crying because such displays are too feminine (S4 E5), and despite The 508’s emphasized heteronormativity (S1 E1–E5), by Season 11, Goose asks male homeowner Joe to tell Jason that he is “hot” (S11 E6). After establishing his heteronormativity as a “family man” (shown happily walking with his girlfriend and bearing a young boy piggy-back style), Joe relates his “affinity” for Japanese culture. Goose introduces Joe to Jason with, “You speak Japanese?” Joe nods “Yes.” Goose shoots back, “Say ‘Jason, you’re hot’ in Japanese.” Smiling, Joe obliges, “Jason, watsui jisne.” Also smiling, Jason asks, “How do you say thank you?” Joe again obliges, and the two exchange “domo arigatos.” The absence of homophobic panic in the scene would have been glaring during the closet era and in earlier Man Caves episodes. This scene, however, makes no room for homohysteria: after Joe’s “watsui jisne,” the men laugh, jovially touch each other, and resume building.
We read such instances as questioning and reasserting heteronormative, orthodox masculine identities. On one hand, Goose’s asking Joe to say “watsui jisne” indicates easing tensions between homosocializing and performing heteronormativity (Becker 2014). In this vein, the men may be “working through” (Draper and Lotz 2012) what it means to be straight by struggling with orthodox heteromasculine archetypes. On the other hand, the men may be working back in a more retrogressive fashion. Goose’s demand that homeowner Joe say, “Jason, you’re hot,” specifically, may be read as a regression into old-fashioned fraternity and sports-hazing rituals that humiliate to initiate and highlight hierarchy to induce loyalty (Anderson et al. 2012; Sabo and Panepinto 1990). Whereas young male college athletes may reject overt expressions of homophobia and abandon same-sex hazing rituals (Anderson et al. 2012), Man Caves does not so much renounce as wink at a homohysterical era wherein Goose’s demand would have humiliated Joe. Without identified gay characters on the series, furthermore, the prank may, be read as a denial of homophobia. In this interpretation Man Caves neglects homophobia as an injustice that causes physical and symbolic violence and as an injustice that the show’s hosts, guests, and audience bear responsibility for reproducing. Thus, taking refuge from homophobia in this scene may further constitute neo-orthodox masculinity as working around today’s queer(er) political-economic and cultural realities.
Conclusion
This article argues that Man Caves constructs neo-orthodox masculinity in ways that speak to our contemporary cultural-historical conjuncture and underscore the political significance of a consumer trend. Regarding our first contention, we argue that Man Caves lends a neo veneer to orthodox masculinity by using humor, parody, exaggeration, and sarcasm to support and critique heteronormative patriarchal masculine identities. The show’s ambivalence toward orthodox masculinity, moreover, emerges in its paradoxical rejection and embrace of women’s entering and building man caves, and in bromantic bonding that flirts with queer straight masculinities. In addition to expressing such contradictory themes in plot and dialogue, Man Caves builds paradox into the very homes it renovates. By making over distal, underground, hitherto unfinished spaces and then inviting women to socialize in and build them, and by suggesting that male bonding may exceed homosocial boundaries, Man Caves constructs spaces that prove porous after all. Contributing to postfeminist culture, Man Caves promotes, mocks, transgresses, and abandons both the neo and orthodox in the masculinity it imagines. In so doing, the show leaves readings of neo-orthodox masculine performances alluringly open.
This openness has commercial and political significance. The winking, contradictory performances of masculinity that Man Caves constructs may prove enticing for advertisers. Man Caves’ ambivalent treatment of masculinity and patriarchy, after all, constitutes a risk-averse marketing strategy, as more than half of DIY channel’s viewers are women. By paradoxically invoking nostalgia for prefeminist masculinities in a “post-closet,” “post-network” era where homosociality and customized programming forge new masculine identities (Becker 2009, 2014; Lotz 2014), Man Caves renovates throwback masculinities while targeting viewers who desire and reject the “unreconstructed, patriarchal masculinities” featured in blatantly sexist fare such as The Man Show (1999–2004; Lotz 2014, 32; see also Johnson 2007). Man Caves’ embrace and disavowal of traditionally dominant masculinities and outright sexism work like the “politics of ambivalence” that Sarah Banet-Weiser (2012) locates in brand culture today (brand culture that may be both conformist and subversive as well as postfeminist in its dis/avowal of feminism). Thus, Man Caves speaks to today’s postfeminist, post-closet, postrecessionary moment and appeals to viewers who endorse and resist (and perhaps both, simultaneously) feminist and progressive as well as sexist and reactionary beliefs.
We also view Man Caves and the wider trend it represents as politically significant for reproducing male-exclusive spaces evoked to excuse discussion of sexual violence against women. The neo-orthodox masculinity the show constructs, however, highlights the diminished purchase of orthodox masculinity. Thus, we view Man Caves’ ambivalence toward orthodox masculinity as signaling trouble for a key support beam of patriarchy. Furthermore, we interpret media’s treatment of the newly inaugurated U.S. president’s masculinity as underscoring a similar weakness in patriarchal armor. Like the orthodox masculine practices ridiculed on Man Caves, the White House administration’s masculine posturing is laughable. Actor Alec Baldwin’s impressions of the president and actress Melissa McCarthy’s of White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer on U.S. comedy show Saturday Night Live (1975–) critique the orthodox masculinity that supports the administration’s white imperialist, masculinist authoritarian agenda. In such performances, orthodox masculinity stands naked before an audience like the fabled emperor who wore no clothes (Andersen 1837).
Moreover, the masculinity promoted on Man Caves and via the U.S. president’s recourse to a symbolic “locker room” negotiates shaky ground. As we conclude this article, from the perspective of early 2017, we read Man Caves and the presidency as fraught with desperation, as attempts to resuscitate a failing patriarchy. Here, we agree with Angela Davis when on Inauguration Day 2017, she urged listeners of Democracy Now! to understand the presidency as signaling patriarchy’s impending fall; “it appears as if this is a kind of last gasp of a dying white, male supremacy.” For Davis, the administration’s statements and agenda reflect “frustration, a refusal to accept the way in which history has unfolded” (“Watch: Inauguration 2017 Special Coverage” 2017).
Davis’ commentary on the White House also applies to Man Caves and the wider trend that the show represents. By pointing to vulnerabilities in the shoring up of patriarchy, Man Caves’ neo-orthodox masculinity gives feminists reason to hope that patriarchy is on its deathbed. This is not a naïve hope born of ignorance, but one that springs from ongoing activism for social justice. Hope is a strategic state, that, like anger, can inspire collective action (Ahmed 2010; Lucek 2007). Davis’ interpretation of the White House’s actions as the “last gasp” of white supremacist patriarchy also serves as strategic commentary that may move feminists to act from a sense of collective hope In this way, hope animates feminist anger as a productive force. As millions of women and allies communicate anger at the president’s comments and behavior with “pussy grabs back” slogans and participation in public protests (including the Women’s March on January 21, 2017 and strikes planned in the weeks following), women press down on the cracks in masculinity that Man Caves underscores. As orthodox masculinity both tightens and loosens in performances of neo-orthodox masculinity, feminists stand on fertile ground when we organize for patriarchy’s end. Our present political conjuncture also deals a blow to postfeminist sensibilities because the necessity of feminist activism is evident. Finally, we take heed of Women’s March organizer Tamika Mallory’s (2017) admonition that black bodies were endangered long before the 2017 presidency and Davis’ (2016) reminder that “freedom is a constant struggle” (a phrase she borrows from the Civil Rights era song of the same name to discuss ongoing liberation movements, 61). We contend that feminist anger and activism must not cease with the end of the present White House administration or at the close of the man cave moment. Feminist activism, buoyed by anger and hope, will sustain the constant struggle required to make patriarchy deliver its last gasp.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.