Meet Muffy Crosswire (Melissa Altro, “Pippi Longstocking”), an anthropomorphic monkey with long pigtails from the popular children’s television series “Arthur.” Muffy is a vain, selfish, spoiled 8-year-old brat who won’t even let her Jewish best friend Francine (Jodie Resther, “Arthur’s Perfect Christmas”) skip her Christmas party because she thinks Hanukkah is less important. Some may be quick to blame Muffy and Francine’s crumbling friendship on her bad temper and rude attitude, but I believe there is a much more insidious factor at play.
Enter Ed Crosswire (AJ Henderson, “Sharky & George”): Muffy’s loving father. Although he is highly respected as the wealthiest businessman in the small town of Elwood City, his “parenting style” has caused his sweet little daughter to live in ignorance and oblivion, alienating her from her classmates and straining her friendships. At one point in the series, Muffy was so bored that she would intentionally be rude to her butler to increase the drama of her reality show. If Ed had spent some time teaching her to treat others kindly and respectfully, or helped her develop less annoying hobbies, we wouldn’t have gotten this annoying episode.
Although these characters present us with someone we could easily hate, criticize, and grumble about, they also normalize the idea that oodles of toys and candy can replace the time it takes to properly raise children. I grew up watching these shows and movies, but looking back now, I realize there’s a very serious parenting problem (or lack thereof). The above characters all have fathers with high status and income, but at the expense of being role models. Sure, moms take center stage when it comes to parenting, but studies also show that involved fathers are linked to higher confidence, self-esteem, and sociability levels in children. By chasing that extra dollar and an extra rung on the social ladder, we get the problematic caricature of a rich dad who’s a poor dad. As a result, from reserved and nervous teenagers to loud, messy brats, we get all kinds of insecurely attached problem children on our screens.
After all, what could scream “spoiled daddy’s girl” more than loads of meaningless (but shiny) material goods? Are they meant to make up for lost quality time with family and the inability to deal with loneliness during the most developmental years of childhood? They say materialistic tendencies arise from a lack of self-compassion, and that’s definitely true for Muffy, who seeks her life’s meaning and identity in her possessions rather than in herself.
Unfortunately, Muffy isn’t the only character of her kind (and probably won’t be for a long time). From animated series like Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir, starring the infamous Chloé Bourgeois (Selah Victor, All I Wish), to live-action films like the Harry Potter films starring Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton, Rise of the Planet of the Apes), spoiled brats have transcended time and media. A common pattern among these characters is that they all come from extremely wealthy families and treat those around them terribly because their high socioeconomic class is their only advantage. Their family life is often a wreck—they can’t form authentic relationships—and their problems seem to disappear in the blink of an eye by buying something new and expensive. What better way to deal with the absence of friends than with the latest designer collectible?
However, this caricature is not limited to television shows aimed at young children. In fact, depictions of this caricature in media aimed at older audiences are becoming increasingly realistic and frightening.
Seong Gi-Hun (Lee Jung-Jae, “The Acolyte”) from “Squid Game” is a perfect example of this. In his quest to become a better father and son who can financially support his family (instead of being a compulsive gambler who constantly loses), he ends up becoming the complete opposite of what he wants to be: a man whose impulses dictate his every decision. Instead of flying back to reunite with his daughter in the season 1 finale, Gi-Hun decides to rejoin Squid Game to right a wrong. By the end of the series, Gi-Hun is described as all good—empathetic, moralistic, wealthy, compassionate—except that he can never be there for his family. If his goal at the beginning of the series was to provide for his family, what good are all those qualities if he can’t be exactly what he wanted to be?
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention other notable characters who put their families aside to pursue their personal dreams. Jacob (Steven Yeun, “Beef”) from the movie “Minari” stirred up trouble to pursue the American dream at the expense of his family’s well-being. By moving to the Arkansas boonies, where his children had neither an accessible healthcare system nor good schools, Jacob made life difficult for everyone else (especially his wife) so he could have a chance at success. While his wife Monica (Han Ye-Ri, “Hello, My Twenties!”) had her doubts about the stability of their new life and its impact on raising their children, Jacob thought the move was worth it: He could mark a fresh start in their new home with his farming operation and entrepreneurial spirit. But at what cost? (Hint: lots of arguments, storms and long hours in the heat).
The father figures in this article, from the cartoon ones to the real ones in dramas and movies, all seem so different, and yet they all contribute to the rich-poor-dad caricature that normalizes neglectful or bad parenting on the part of the father as long as he brings home the money. This sets a double standard for women, who are expected to excel on both fronts. Think of Mrs. Incredible (Holly Hunter, “The Piano”), who is both a clever superhero and a caring mother, while Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson, “Coach”) gets away with merely lifting a few heavy objects in public. In reality, women can’t make a problem disappear with a credit card as easily as a man can. Otherwise, they’re accused of being bad parents.
The media makes it seem like money and family are mutually exclusive, but we can have both: it’s called work-life balance. PT Barnum (Hugh Jackman, “Deadpool & Wolverine”) in “The Greatest Showman” learned this the hard way after realizing he was spending more time at his circus than with the people he wanted to share a million dreams with. He eventually gives up his business and takes early retirement to earn the most valuable part of his life: watching his daughters grow up by his wife’s side. Although his story was written as a rags-to-riches tale, the most important lesson is to never lose sight of what’s most important, especially when you move up a few tax brackets.
So, future fictional fathers, can we expect wealth to chase you less now?
Daily Arts writer Michelle Wu can be reached at michewu@umich.edu.
