Black Mirror ep 1: The National Anthem

I found The National Anthem, the first episode of Charlie Brooker’s new Channel 4 drama series Black Mirror, both funny and discomforting in almost equal measure. Almost as soon as I laughed at fictional Prime Minister Michael Callow’s insistence that ‘I’m not fucking a pig,’ or his aide’s advice to take his time with the said sex act as ‘to rush might be interpreted as eagerness or even enjoyment,’ I squirmed uncomfortably, immediately questioning my own response. Is watching a man (albeit a fictional one) forced to have sex with a pig hilarious or is it sickening? Aside from this, The National Anthem threw up enough interesting questions on the media, art and social relations for me to want to produce a blog-sized reading of it.

Who is responsible for Michael Callow acquiescing to the artist Carlton Bloom’s demands? Throughout the episode, Callow is adamant that he will not have sex with a pig. ‘Nothing is going to happen,’ he tries to reassure his wife, Jane. Initially, public opinion supports his refusal – a number of interviewees on fictional news channel UKN agree that he shouldn’t have to do it and an opinion poll indicates that only 28% of people would watch.

It is only after images of Bloom cutting off what is supposed to be Princess Susannah’s finger are widely disseminated that public opinion alters: 86% of people are now in favour of the demands being met. Even up to the eleventh hour, Callow is still raging against his fate: ‘It’s not going to happen.’ ‘Fuck the public!’ But the public pressure being applied to Callow proves too much. If he doesn’t go through with it, ‘you will be destroyed’ his aide assures him, ‘a despised individual.’ His security ‘cannot guarantee [Callow’s] safety or that of [his] family.’ Ultimately, Callow fucks the pig out of self-preservation and concern for his wife and child; he does not choose to out of concern for the princess.

Crucially, it is not Bloom but UKN that is directly responsible for the swing in public opinion. The finger-slicing video is not uploaded to YouTube like the original hostage video but instead sent by Bloom to the UKN newsroom. It is they that choose to broadcast it. Had they not, support for Callow might have remained constant. The media, far from being an impartial apparatus simply relaying information to the public, take an active and self-interested role in Bloom’s artistic project coming to fruition.

  

The power of the media to shape public opinion is not lost on Callow himself. The Prime Minister makes another choice after his fateful rendezvous at the TV studio: he decides to carry on being Prime Minister. On the one-year anniversary of the event, Callow puts in a PR appearance with his wife, during which UKN reports that ‘the incident failed to destroy a Prime Minister who currently holds an approval rating three points higher than this time last year.’ Rather than retiring from public life having saved the princess, himself and his family, Callow emerges from the event a more popular Prime Minister. It’s possible to infer that Callow met Bloom’s demands out of self-preservation but not solely of his family’s physical safety; he also wanted to preserve his position. Even in moments of desperation, Callow always has an eye on the news reports (‘I can’t think about coverage now… But it’s onside?’) Some dictionary definitions of the adjective ‘callow’: inexperienced, raw, unfledged. Michael Callow is an unfledged Prime Minister until he faces a trial by the media: participate in an event we’ve helped construct and enjoy more popularity than ever; refuse, and face political oblivion. He passes with flying colours and his approval rating shoots up, to the detriment of his marriage.   

As much as he really, really doesn’t want to, Callow can’t help but play the game. Interestingly, neither can the public. The wording of the second UKN poll is significant: 86% of voters now believe the demands should be met. Believing the demands should be met is different to wanting to watch them being met (the question posed in the earlier poll). And yet, as the 4 O’clock deadline looms, the streets of central London are shown to be deserted – pubs, workplaces and homes alike are full of people tuning in to watch the event, eagerly anticipating Callow’s humiliation. ‘It’s history, this!’ one of the hospital workers protests when a colleague tries to turn the broadcast off. The initial looks of amusement and fascination on the faces of viewers quickly turn to disgust and revulsion at what they’re seeing, but try as they might, they can’t quite tear their eyes away from the screen. They might miss something. The public, as much as UKN and Callow, is complicit in the realization of Bloom’s artwork: without an audience, the event could not exist as a work of art.

During UKN’s one-year-on news report, a newspaper headline briefly flashes up on screen: ‘Bloom’s dark vision accuses us all.’ Everyone is accused because everyone is guilty of acting in their own self-interest. That is the meaning of the artwork; concern for the safety of Princess Susannah is never at any point foremost in anyone’s minds. The three main players in the saga – Callow, UKN and the public – come together to create the event for purely selfish reasons. Callow wants to preserve his family and his position (unfortunately for him, it’s one or the other); UKN want viewer ratings and, by extension, profits; and the public wants to partake in an ‘historic’ news event. Social relations, mediated by, well, the media, break down. The result is a disgusting spectacle in which all participate.