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'One of the most important books on race, representation and politics to come along in a decade' - Henry Giroux, Penn State University Representing Black Britain offers a critical history of Black and Asian representation on British television from the earliest days of broadcasting to the present day.

From Amos 'n' Andy to The Jeffersons to Family Matters to Chappelle's Show, this volume covers it all with entries on all different genres_animation, documentaries, sitcoms, sports, talk shows, and variety shows_and performers such as Muhammad Ali, Louis Armstrong, Bill Cosby, and Oprah Winfrey. Additionally, information can be found on general issues, ranging from African American audiences and stereotypes through the related networks and organizations. This book has hundreds of cross-referenced entries, from A to Z, in the dictionary and a list of acronyms with their corresponding definitions. The extensive chronology shows who did what and when and the introduction traces the often difficult circumstances African American performers faced compared to the more satisfactory present situation. Finally, the bibliography is useful to those readers who want to know more about specific topics or persons.

The Paramilitary Hero on Turkish Television: A Case Study on Valley of the Wolves explores the representation and reception of nationalism and masculinity in Turkey through an examination of the popular television serial, Valley of the Wolves which has been aired on Turkish television since 2003. This detailed examination of the show demonstrates a particular discourse of nationalism, namely the Turkish Islam synthesis embedded in a gender-specific regime in which the paramilitary hero is placed at the centre. The study draws on thirty-seven in-depth interviews with viewers of the programme from different social backgrounds. These viewers read the serial from various perspectives in the light of their gendered experiences, suggesting that the relationship between text and audience is not necessarily predetermined by the former, but is rather constructed through an interdiscursive process. The book also examines the pleasures of the “contesting” readers of Valley of the Wolves, drawing on the audience interviews, and argues that critical approaches to a particular media text do not present a barrier to audience pleasures.

"Pretty Liar" explores the rise of language and gender politics on Lebanese television to tell the untold story of the co-evolution of Lebanese television and its audiences and how the civil war of 1975-1991 affected that co-evolution. The shift in public interest in television has been widely acknowledged and interpreted within an institutional context as a victory of the neo-liberal entrepreneurship of a new, agile brand over the government inefficiency of Lebanon's national station, Télé Liban. Yet, the role of the Lebanese Civil War in reshaping national television and broadcasting in Arab media following the emergence of the Lebanese Broadcasting Company in 1985 has been unexplored. Based on empirical data and grounded in theory by Arab and global researchers, "Pretty Liar" offers textual analyses of five Lebanese fictional series, three major and several additional periodicals, and nine literary works, and provides context from unscripted interviews with television administrators, anchors, actors, and freelance contributors, print journalists, and audience members. Khazaal seeks to offer new insight into how entertainment television became a site for politics and political resistance, feminism, and the cradle for post-war Lebanon due to the shift in practices and standards of legitimacy. The history of television in Lebanon is not merely the history of technology and business, Khazaal argues, but rather the history of a people and their continuing quest for a responsive television even during times of civil unrest.

Fusing audience research and ethnography, the book presents a compelling account of women's changing lives and identities in relation to the impact of the most popular media culture in everyday life: television. Within the historically-specific social conditions of Korean modernity, Youna Kim analyzes how Korean women of varying age and class group cope with the new environment of changing economical structure and social relations. The book argues that television is an important resource for women, stimulating them to research their own lives and identities. Youna Kim reveals Korean women as creative, energetic and critical audiences in their responses to evolving modernity and the impact of the West. Based on original empirical research, the book explores the hopes, aspirations, frustrations and dilemmas of Korean women as they try to cope with life beyond traditional grounds. Going beyond the traditional Anglo-American view of media and culture, this text will appeal to students and scholars of both Korean area studies and media and communications studies.

While television in today's world increasingly displays a global character, national television systems are still firmly rooted in a specific locality. But in what ways does this locality actually shape the content and performance of national television? What is the significance of local cultures and local languages in these processes of mediation? And how do the local, the national, and the global intersect in discourses of and discourse on television? Taking a critical discourse analysis perspective, Watching Si Doel investigates these and related questions in the context of contemporary Indonesia. Starting from the nationwide popularity of the local television serial Si Doel Anak Sekolahan ("Educated Doel"), it examines the various ways in which the national government, Indonesian television producers, and local audiences shape, interpret, and struggle over the meaning of the phrase 'national television'. In doing so, the book explores what Indonesian television at the turn of the century sounds and looks like--and, significantly, ought to sound and look like--according to those who create and control television and those who watch and interpret it. While providing insight into the production, nature, and reception of television discourse in general, this book particularly seeks to clarify the relationship between television, language, and power in late New Order and post-Soeharto Indonesia.

Fist-fights in television studios, dwindling media autonomy, sensationalism, fake news, religious hate, abusive trolls, political spin ... How did we get here? Three decades ago, before economic liberalization, came the expansion and privatization of Indian television. Technological innovation and easing of government controls offered the prospect of journalistic independence, artistic creativity and an empowered citizenry. This was rendered illusory by runaway growth and untrammelled commercialization. In that thwarted promise of the late 20th century lie the seeds of Indian democracy's current crisis. Telly-Guillotined: How Television Changed India tells the story of how technology was usurped, first by propagandists, then by the market. Going behind the scenes of the world′s greatest media explosion, this book describes the impact of consumerism on the newsroom, the shaping of a new cultural politics and the rise of a new politics of seduction. In a landscape of technological innovation, blurred boundaries and sensory overload, Amrita Shah paints a picture of the Fourth Estate′s challenging future.

By the end of the twentieth century, Mexican multimedia conglomerate Televisa stood as one of the most powerful media companies in the world. Most scholars have concluded that the company’s success was owed in large part to its executives who walked in lockstep with the government and the Partido Revolucionario Institucional (PRI), which ruled for seventy-one years. At the same time, government decisions regulating communications infrastructure aided the development of the television industry. In one of the first books to be published in English on Mexican television, Celeste González de Bustamante argues that despite the cozy relationship between media moguls and the PRI, these connections should not be viewed as static and without friction. Through an examination of early television news programs, this book reveals the tensions that existed between what the PRI and government officials wanted to be reported and what was actually reported and how. Further, despite the increasing influence of television on society, viewers did not always accept or agree with what they saw on the air. Television news programming played an integral role in creating a sense of lo mexicano (that which is Mexican) at a time of tremendous political, social, and cultural change. At its core the book grapples with questions about the limits of cultural hegemony at the height of the PRI and the cold war.

In the United States, daytime soap operas are often critiqued as escapist fantasies with narratives that provide leisure and pleasure for middle-class and stay-at-home mothers. The storylines typically involve forbidden sexual liaisons and business relationships, with physical and psychological behaviors that center on powerful families. One family unit usually represents “old money” while the other family represents “new money” or an upwardly mobile group with aspirations of power, status, and influence. The economic differences are usually the source of conflict between the families, around which all other social relationships develop. The temporal space expands and contracts to accommodate storylines, which

As activists and political leaders in Brazil call for increasing rights, recognition, and redress to address the multiple forms of marginalization that Afro-Brazilians have endured, media has become an increasingly important sphere through which different constituencies mobilize to advance a project of racial equality. Among these groups enlisting available media resources was a group composed predominately of Afro-Brazilian media professionals who joined together to launch the TV da Gente (Our TV) television network, Brazil’s first television station with the mission to produce racially diverse programming directed toward a Black viewing audience.

Aaron McGruder’s “The Return of the King” (2006) is one of many of the artist’s controversial episodes, yet it stands out because of the criticism it received among mainstream media outlets and civil rights leaders. It was the ninth episode to air from his series The Boondocks, which is an anime show that airs on the Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim cable channel. McGruder presents the following scenario in “The Return of the King”: What if Martin Luther King Jr. (MLK) did not die after his April 4, 1968, shooting and instead awoke after being in a coma for thirty-two years?

Why is it important that a Black woman created, wrote for, and co-produced¹ two highly-regarded television situation comedies that engaged a variety of Black women’s health issues while at the same time these issues were being reduced, simplified, or altogether ignored in mainstream American hip hop? Mara Brock Akil tacitly responded to this question when asked why four episodes of the third season of Girlfriends (2000–2008), the situation comedy she created and co-produced for UPN, addressed the HIV/AIDS crisis among Black women in America. “I have things I want to say,” explained Brock Akil, “about bridging television’s gap between

On November 4, 2008, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper appeared on The Ellen DeGeneres Show via satellite. One of the more memorable moments of the interview came when Cooper expressed shock that DeGeneres was unfamiliar with the hit Bravo television show The Real Housewives of Atlanta. “You mean you don’t know about NeNe?” he demanded incredulously, referring to cast member NeNe Leakes—the most outspoken and self-proclaimed “realest” of the Housewives. Cooper’s segment, along with his admission that Leakes was his favorite of the cast, brought even more attention to the already widely debated show, the first of Bravo’s Housewives series

Five years after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, Louisiana, life remained not normal still for many residents of the city. And while mainstream news organizations remembered the fifth anniversary of the hurricane with extensive coverage, it was the work of filmmaker Spike Lee and television program creators David Simon and Eric Overmyer that perhaps created the greatest buzz about the fifth anniversary of Katrina in 2010. Spike Lee’s first documentary, When the Levees Broke , was released in 2006. It documented what happened in New Orleans through the voices of local residents, politicians, and experts during and immediately after the storm.

Picture this: a comedy about an overweight Black woman who lives with and takes care of a white family. Joking all the way, she cooks, cleans, helps the father of the family, and comforts the children. Then at one point, we see the father holding his gun and pointing toward the door. The Black woman enters and jumps up and down, screaming, “Massa! Massa! Massa! Please don’t shoot!” It is easy to imagine these scenes in a 1930s film about the antebellum South. But they are actually from the first episode of a 1980s sitcom.

In the first episode of Black Journal , before the opening credits, comedian Godfrey Cambridge appears dressed in overalls and a painter’s cap with a paint roller in hand and methodically paints the television frame. To the viewer, it appears that his or her television is being painted black from the inside—a potent visual symbol from the first national Black public affairs program. Initially, though, the symbol emphasizes a visual challenge to the absence of Black faces on television—a show that “looks” Black, because of the visibility of its Black hosts and reporters, but where whites still have significant

Television’s synergy with the Web initially seemed inconceivable to network executives. With the rise of Internet use, newspaper and magazine articles announced the impending death of television. While that was clearly hyperbole, network executives, though often anonymously, expressed their fears that Web content would siphon off viewership and thus advertising dollars generated by television programming. Fears may have been quelled with the evidence of the success of television shows first made available streaming on network websites and then for paid download through digital servers such as iTunes.

In a recent debate over the problematic characterization of Bonnie Bennett, the only Black female recurring character on the CW network series The Vampire Diaries (CW 2009), my challenger insisted that with all of the qualifiers I insisted she have, “maybe this is another hidden reason there are no minorities on television: everything becomes an issue and you just can’t win.” Indeed, the main qualifier I suggested that the series allow the character to possess—an innate sense of cultural difference—is difficult to grasp and maintain. However, I do not accept that just because race is difficult, it is

The country’s political crisis led to the confrontation between the Peruvian Congress and President Martín Vizcarra on irreconcil- able limits. After a second denial of confidence, Vizcarra made use of his constitutional prerogatives and dissolved Congress at the end of September 2019. The majority of the mass media step in line with the different positions of the Executive or the opposition, giv- ing much more attention to the political situation, thus modifying the TV programing. In this scenario, the Enfoca group – owner of Latina station – has continued looking for potential buyers, but without success yet. The conglomerate – with interest in financial, health and productive sectors – does not feel that the investment made in acquiring all the station’s shares seven years ago yielded the expected results. Meanwhile, Willax – a small locally held station acquired by the Wong group in 2015 with promises of a large investment – has become a stronghold of opposition to the government of Vizcarra and the largest broadcaster of Korean fictions. In February 2020, they an- nounced that a commercial partnership had been signed with South Korean company CJ ENM, a production company of several Korean dramas and the award-winning film Parasite, but without indicating what this company could mean for audiovisual production in Peru.

The high expectations of change caused by the victory of An- drés Manuel López Obrador for the presidency of Mexico have not been translated into any substantive modification in the Mexican media ecosystem or in the communication policies that have led the media-state relations in the country. However, what has been modi- fied/conditioned is the setting of the daily news agenda, since the new president has imposed a political-governmental communica- tion framework by holding morning press conferences, in which, with little opposition from the media, he sets the topics to be dis- cussed on a daily basis. It has created various problems with those media and/or journalists that have questioned the stances he has adopted, his plans and projects. The conflict escalated to such an extent that López Obrador has called his opponents “prensa fifí” (“snob press”), pointing out in a very clear way that these are ac- tors who only seek to defend the privileges lost during his govern- ment by conservative media, or, as he has called them: “la mafia del poder” (“the power mafia”).