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In 1982, Mark Crispin Miller, a cultural critic known for his sharp analysis of advertising and media, published an extraordinarily perceptive and provocative analysis of a soap commercial that revealed deep layers of psycho-sexual symbolism, social satire and commentary on American life under corporate capitalism.
He argued that what initially appears to be a banal soap ad is, upon closer examination, a rich exploration of modern anxieties around masculinity, marriage, work and cleanliness.
In the ad, a man anxiously prepares for a critical meeting with his boss, J. J. Siss. He is upset with his wife, Gail, for switching deodorant soap before this important event. Miller interprets this scene as a subtle commentary on the emasculation of men in corporate America, where the man’s nervousness and insecurity reflect his powerlessness in the professional sphere. The name “J. J. Siss” suggests not only a potent, overbearing authority but also hints at emasculation, with “Siss” implying “sissy” or weakness.
This adds a layer of gendered anxiety, where the man must “perform” to satisfy this superior, much like a subordinate or even a sex worker must appease their client.
Gail, the wife, is depicted as calm, controlling and somewhat contemptuous. She wields both literal and metaphorical power, as evidenced by her nonchalant use of shears and her dismissive but firm attitude toward her husband’s anxiety. Miller reads this dynamic as a “sexless battle of the sexes,” where Gail plays a dual role: a wife preparing her husband for the public world, but also one who holds a degree of contempt for the emasculating realities he must face at work. She relies on him to “clean up” in both senses—financially and literally—but must also remind him of his diminished masculinity in the process, as when she hands him a limp daisy.
Miller points out that the ad’s obsession with cleanliness reflects more than just physical hygiene; it speaks to a deeper, psychological need to cleanse oneself of the degrading obligations imposed by the corporate world. The commercial’s focus on odor control is symbolic of a desire to wash away the dirtiness associated with playing submissive roles in business, where self-worth is compromised to meet the demands of superiors.
Miller suggests that the ad offers a bleak, satirical view of middle-class life. It portrays a world where men are cowed by their jobs, reduced to subservient roles in pursuit of material success, and where women, despite outward appearances of self-sufficiency, depend on their husbands’ ability to perform in this compromised way. The 30-second ad becomes a microcosm of life under corporate capitalism, where traditional roles of masculinity and femininity are both upheld and subverted, reflecting the deeper malaise of modern life.
In Miller’s interpretation, the commercial exposes the hidden tensions and power dynamics of gender, work and personal identity, offering a satirical glimpse into the psychological costs of maintaining appearances in a corporate-driven society.
Miller’s analysis of a soap commercial offers a compelling demonstration of hermeneutics—the practice of interpretation—in action. By dissecting what initially appears to be a simple advertisement, Miller reveals deeper layers of meaning related to gender roles, corporate power and societal anxieties.
This type of analysis shows how even the most mundane cultural artifacts can serve as rich texts, exposing the underlying societal dynamics that often go unnoticed.
Hermeneutics plays a critical role in media analysis because it urges us to question surface-level messages and dig deeper to uncover hidden ideologies, power structures and cultural narratives. In Miller’s interpretation, the soap commercial becomes a vehicle for exploring emasculation in the workplace, the performance of gender and the psychological pressures of corporate life. Rather than just being an intellectual exercise, this form of analysis highlights how media and cultural products subtly reinforce norms and values that shape our everyday lives.
The ability to perform close readings of such texts extends far beyond advertisements. It enables individuals to challenge dominant narratives, question established norms and become more discerning media consumers. For instance, many commercials and films reinforce traditional gender roles, promote consumerism or subtly endorse societal inequalities without audiences fully realizing it. By applying a hermeneutic approach, we become more conscious of these influences and better equipped to analyze the ways media shapes public consciousness.
Moreover, close readings help us understand how power and ideology operate beneath the surface, subtly maintaining control through cultural products. Whether it’s an ad, a political speech or a blockbuster film, these texts are rarely neutral. They reflect specific interests, assumptions and values that can reinforce existing inequalities or perpetuate harmful stereotypes. By using hermeneutics, we uncover these hidden dynamics and become more active participants in reshaping the narratives that dominate our lives.
Miller’s analysis reminds us that seemingly innocuous cultural products—from soap commercials to Hollywood movies—can reveal deeper truths about societal anxieties and power structures. Hermeneutics sharpens our understanding of culture, equipping us with tools to resist, question or reimagine the stories we’re told. In today’s media-saturated world, these interpretive skills are more important than ever, ensuring we are not passive consumers but engaged, critical thinkers.
Just as Miller’s close reading of a soap commercial reveals underlying tensions of adult life under corporate capitalism, we can apply a similar analytical lens to childhood depictions in cinema.
While American cinema often casts children as action-oriented heroes navigating family-friendly adventures, European filmmakers frequently use childhood as a vehicle for deeper exploration of moral, social and cultural issues.
In American films, children are symbols of optimism and resilience, embodying the idealized notion of independence and heroism. In contrast, European films often depict children as passive witnesses to adult failures and societal dysfunction, emphasizing innocence lost or overshadowed by the complexities of the adult world.
By moving from Miller’s analysis of social dynamics in advertising to an examination of childhood in film, we uncover how different cultural products—whether commercials or movies—function as mirrors reflecting societal concerns. Just as the soap ad subtly critiques gender roles and corporate pressures, European and American cinema reveal cultural differences in how innocence, responsibility and the tensions between childhood and adulthood, showing us that even entertainment reflects broader social and cultural dynamics.
In cinema, children are portrayed in many ways—heroes, dreamers, victims and witnesses. In Hollywood films, they often take on active roles in uplifting stories meant to entertain and inspire young audiences. European films, however, tend to use children as reflective lenses through which the complexities of adult society are critiqued, offering more philosophical insights. This contrast highlights a key cultural divide: American films emphasize escapism and adventure, while European cinema uses childhood as a metaphor for deeper moral and societal dilemmas.
From the playful exuberance of The Goonies to the stark realism of The 400 Blows, the portrayal of children varies dramatically between the U.S. and Europe. Hollywood frequently casts children as fearless leaders in whimsical adventures, while European filmmakers place children in narratives that center on societal critique. In these films, children’s innocence is often used to expose adult moral failings. These contrasting depictions reflect two distinct cultural relationships with childhood: one that idealizes adventure and optimism and another that confronts social and philosophical realities with sober reflection. These cinematic differences reveal how two cultures use children in film to either escape into fantasy or confront uncomfortable truths, ultimately reflecting deeper, culturally distinct understandings of what childhood means.
In American cinema, children are frequently depicted as independent agents of change, brimming with optimism, courage and resilience. Films like E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) place children at the forefront of narratives where they navigate challenges, showcase leadership and ultimately triumph over adversity. In these films, the world—though filled with danger—is one where innocence prevails and children have the power to shape outcomes, often with the aid of fantastical elements. This approach reflects broader American values of individualism, determination and perseverance, suggesting that childhood is a stage for growth and self-discovery, much like the journey of an adult hero.
Even in coming-of-age films such as Stand by Me (1986) and The Sandlot (1993), children are portrayed as decision-makers who confront fears, take risks and learn life lessons. These films idealize childhood as a time of camaraderie and transformation, with the tone remaining hopeful and empowering. Childhood in American cinema is often seen as an adventure, where the young protagonists develop agency, confronting personal challenges that help prepare them for adulthood.
European films, however, use children as lenses through which the flaws and complexities of adult society are examined. Films like The 400 Blows (1959) by François Truffaut and Au Revoir les Enfants (1987) by Louis Malle position children as passive figures shaped by the dysfunctional worlds around them. In these narratives, childhood is not a time of boundless potential, but rather a stage marred by adult failures and societal disillusionment.
In The 400 Blows, Antoine Doinel’s emotional isolation and disempowerment underscore how European filmmakers often view childhood as a period of vulnerability and introspection. European films tend to explore the internal lives of children, focusing on their emotional turmoil as they navigate familial strife, societal expectations and historical trauma.
This approach reflects a more philosophical and, at times, pessimistic view of childhood. Children in European films often serve as metaphors for innocence corrupted by adult society, embodying the moral and societal failures of the adult world. These children, unlike their American counterparts, are powerless to change their circumstances, reflecting a broader skepticism about human nature and institutions in European cinema.
In The Spirit of the Beehive (1973), director Víctor Erice presents childhood as a window into the lingering trauma of the Spanish Civil War. Ana, the young protagonist, becomes obsessed with the movie Frankenstein and confuses a fugitive soldier with the film’s monster, blending her imagination with the harsh political realities of the time. The film juxtaposes Ana’s innocent perspective with the oppressive atmosphere of postwar Spain, showing how children absorb the emotional scars left by adult conflicts.
Similarly, Ingmar Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander (1982) uses children as vessels through which broader themes of family, power and existential uncertainty are explored. Fanny and Alexander witness their stepfather’s authoritarianism and cruelty, making them passive observers of the complex and often brutal adult world around them. Bergman presents childhood as a mixture of fantasy, fear and insight into adult behavior, where children are not agents of change, but rather mirrors reflecting the moral shortcomings of the adults in their lives.
The different portrayals of children in American and European films are shaped by distinct cultural attitudes toward childhood. In the United States, childhood is often seen as a preparatory stage for adulthood—a time of growth, discovery and empowerment. This perspective aligns with the broader American belief in self-reliance and optimism, where individuals, no matter their age, can shape their own destinies through determination and action.
Conversely, European cinema often portrays childhood as a period of observation and vulnerability, where children are more shaped by external forces than by their own agency. This view is influenced by Europe’s complex history of war, class struggle and authoritarian regimes, fostering a more skeptical and introspective approach to human nature. European filmmakers use children to critique societal structures, presenting them as witnesses to the failures and moral decay of the adult world.
These differing cinematic depictions of children reveal more than just artistic choices; they reflect each culture’s deeper assumptions about childhood, agency and society. While American films celebrate the empowerment and optimism of childhood, European films use children to expose societal flaws and explore the consequences of human failure. These portrayals offer valuable insights into how each culture understands both the promise and the vulnerabilities of growing up.
Although American children’s films are often seen as lighthearted entertainment, they frequently address serious issues such as divorce, single parenthood and societal constraints on gender roles. These films resonate with young audiences by reflecting real-life challenges while maintaining an adventurous and engaging tone.
E.T. is more than a sci-fi adventure about a boy befriending an alien. At its core, the film delves into the emotional struggles stemming from divorce. The protagonist, Elliot, lives in a fractured household, and his bond with E.T. reflects his feelings of isolation and his longing for connection amid family turmoil. The movie addresses themes of loneliness and healing, offering children a way to process feelings of abandonment and loss.
Similarly, The Parent Trap (1961 and 1998) tackles the emotional toll of parental separation through the comedic adventures of twin sisters who conspire to reunite their divorced parents. Though framed as a lighthearted romp, the film explores the deeper emotional impact of family breakdowns and the dream of reconciliation that many children of divorce can relate to.
In Matilda (1996), the focus shifts to emotional neglect and the stifling of a child’s intellectual autonomy. Matilda’s parents are indifferent and dismissive of her intelligence, leaving her to seek solace in books and education. The film emphasizes themes of self-determination and empowerment, particularly for girls, illustrating the struggles many children face when their talents or individuality are suppressed by those around them.
The Goonies (1985) offers another layer of socioeconomic commentary, cloaked in the guise of an action-adventure film. While the kids embark on a treasure hunt to save their homes from developers, the underlying narrative touches on working-class anxieties about economic displacement and financial instability, themes that resonate with audiences facing similar pressures.
More recently, Pixar’s Inside Out (2015) has taken on the complexities of childhood emotions and mental health. The film presents a sophisticated exploration of how children cope with emotional upheaval, particularly as the protagonist, Riley, grapples with the difficulties of moving to a new city. By personifying emotions like sadness, anger and joy, Inside Out delves into how children navigate change and emotional regulation.
Frozen (2013), meanwhile, challenges traditional gender roles by focusing on sisterhood and female empowerment rather than a romantic plot. Elsa’s struggle to control her powers serves as a metaphor for societal expectations placed on girls and the pressures they face to conform. The film celebrates self-acceptance and the breaking of conventional gender norms, offering a narrative that empowers young girls to embrace their individuality.
These films demonstrate that while American children’s cinema often emphasizes adventure and optimism, it does not shy away from addressing complex emotional and societal issues. By integrating themes such as divorce, neglect, economic hardship and gender constraints into accessible and engaging stories, these films offer young viewers tools to navigate the emotional complexities of growing up.
The contrasting ways in which U.S. and European cinema depict childhood stem from a range of financial, cultural, social and audience-driven factors, shaping distinct approaches to how children are portrayed on screen.
In U.S. cinema, films featuring children tend to be large-scale commercial endeavors driven by box-office performance and franchising opportunities. Movies like Home Alone and The Incredibles are emblematic of Hollywood’s family-oriented strategy, designed to appeal to broad audiences with feel-good, action-packed narratives. Children in these films are often cast as protagonists, positioned as heroes whose adventures underscore resilience, independence and optimism. This reflects a key cultural ethos in the United States, where childhood is idealized as a time of potential and innocence, with an emphasis on individual success through hard work and self-determination. This also caters to parents seeking wholesome, entertaining content that emphasizes moral lessons, making these films highly marketable across demographics.
European cinema, by contrast, often operates within the arthouse tradition, with smaller budgets and less emphasis on commercial success. Films such as The 400 Blows or The Spirit of the Beehive frequently receive support through state funding or grants, allowing directors to explore deeper philosophical topics without the pressure of mass appeal. The children in these narratives bear witness to societal breakdowns, historical trauma or the failings of adult authority, with their innocence underscoring the moral and ethical complexities of the world around them. This reflective, existential approach contrasts sharply with Hollywood’s tendency toward escapism and adventure-driven storytelling.
Culturally, the American focus on optimism and individualism influences the way children are portrayed in cinema. Films like E.T. or the Harry Potter series (an Anglo-American co-production) feature children overcoming challenges and becoming heroes, reinforcing the idea that perseverance leads to success.
In contrast, European filmmakers often depict childhood through a more introspective lens, particularly in post–World War II contexts. In films such as The Bicycle Thief (Italy) or Au Revoir les Enfants (France), children are not active heroes but rather observers of adult failures, societal collapse or the aftermath of war. These films reflect a cultural inclination toward existential questions, influenced by movements such as existentialism, psychoanalysis and Marxism, where childhood is framed as a space for grappling with profound moral and societal dilemmas.
Hollywood’s family movie genre plays a crucial role in shaping these representations. Adventure, humor and fantasy are the hallmarks of this genre, where films like Toy Story or The Lion King draw on traditional good-versus-evil narratives with clear resolutions and positive messages. This structure supports an easily digestible form of storytelling designed to entertain both children and adults. In contrast, European films are less bound by such genre conventions and directors like Bergman and Malle use children in their films not to lead whimsical adventures, but to reveal the hypocrisies, moral failings or violence of the adult world.
Finally, audience expectations drive a significant wedge between the two cinematic traditions. American cinema is highly responsive to audience preferences, particularly for family films, which are designed to be accessible and enjoyable for both young viewers and their parents. Clear resolutions, universal themes and a focus on entertainment ensure the commercial success of U.S. films globally.
By contrast, European films often cater to more intellectual or adult audiences, who expect cinema to engage with deeper social, moral or philosophical questions. In films like The White Ribbon (Germany) or Fanny and Alexander (Sweden), children become metaphors for societal critiques, and the narratives often challenge viewers to reflect on history, authoritarianism and social inequity.
Behind every image lies a story waiting to be decoded.
Sigmund Freud, in his analysis of dreams, distinguished between manifest content—the surface-level narrative—and latent content, the deeper, unconscious meanings hidden beneath. This concept extends beyond the realm of psychoanalysis and applies to various forms of human expression, including literature, art and media. It allows us to explore the concealed layers beneath outward appearances.
Miller’s analysis of the soap commercial serves as a striking example. The manifest content is straightforward: a humorous interaction between a man and his wife over the use of deodorant soap. But the latent content reveals anxieties about masculinity, power dynamics and societal pressures subtly embedded in this surface exchange. The ad, seemingly innocent, becomes a reflection of deeper social tensions.
Freud’s distinction between these layers is central to hermeneutics. By probing beyond the obvious, hermeneutics reveals how cultural products like commercials or films serve as windows into societal anxieties, desires and power structures. They are not mere entertainment but complex texts that offer insights into the emotional, psychological and social forces at play within a culture.
Critical engagement with media is a skill that extends well beyond the classroom. In a world saturated with images, messages and narratives, the ability to interpret and uncover latent meanings is vital. College curricula must emphasize hermeneutics—not just in literature but across all forms of cultural expression, including advertisements, films and social media.
By teaching students to recognize the subtext of these cultural artifacts, we equip them to think critically about the world around them, discerning the subtle forces shaping their perceptions and beliefs. The ability to decode underlying assumptions in media gives students the tools to understand the deeper currents of society, not as passive consumers but as active interpreters of the culture they inhabit.
In a world where interpretation is power, colleges must prioritize teaching students the art of close reading and cultural analysis, ensuring they engage meaningfully with the media that shape their world.
