In a world of online shopping, electronic funds transfers and digital commerce, thinking of the Internet as a kind of marketplaceâas its own economyâis nothing new. More than a generic place, and means, to conduct trade, this chapter focuses on the Internetâs specific role in retailing love and sex: as a place aiding in the acquisition of relationships, the arrangement of hook-ups and a means to satisfy niche sexual interests. The use of the Internet in this fashion is, of course, easily identifiable on screen. Portrayals of online dating perfectly fit this bill, as do more recent depictions centered on location-based hook-up apps. Other, more explicitly sex-based products such as Internet pornography (netporn), erotic webcam sites and the online booking of sex workers are also part of this.
While the depiction of the Internet as a venue for intimacy commerce is a central theme in this chapter, the focus more specifically is on how the values of consumerism such as choice, customization and disposability have impacted on intimacy and its online acquisition. This chapter begins with the contentious idea of love as purchasable, and moves on to examine the role that the screen has in normalizing the Internet in intimacy quests and thus legitimizing the market. The economic drivers underpinning love in the Internet age are then analyzed.
The Purchase of Love
In a scene from the drama Temptation: Confessions of a Marriage Counselor (2013), the entrepreneur Harley (Robbie Jones)âwithin his critique of the online dating industryâremarked, âI prefer the old-fashioned way of meeting women.â Later in the film, Judith (Jurnee Smollett-Bell), a dating company psychologistâand a woman about to have an affair with Harleyâsays to him, âI prefer the old-fashioned way of finding love.â Both comments allude to the charactersâ beliefâand an attitude widely detected both on screen and offâthat use of the Internet to find love is fundamentally different to other methods; that it is somehow less authentic, less romantic. The fact that Harley and Judith first met in âreal lifeâ as opposed to onlineâmost notably with the online dating industry existing in the backgroundâsubtly implies that true passion is spontaneous, is serendipitous and happens without the âsullyingâ influence of technology. This subtle condemnation, in fact, gets confirmed in every screen example where an online dating experiment not only ends badly, but notably gets contrasted with a better real-life introduction and love match. The television drama The Husband She Met Online (2013) illustrates this particularly well. Rachel (Meredith Monroe) met Craig (Jason Gray-Stanford) online; Craig turned out to be a violent, controlling murderer. In the final scene of the filmâafter Craig is killedâRachel is walking in a park when she bumps into a central casting nice guy.1 This accidental meet cute2 is presented as the way a couple should meet and exists in sharp contrast to Rachelâs ill-fated Internet-instigated relationship. Although in The Husband She Met Online the contrast between off- and online meetings is extreme, other examples convey the same message, albeit with more subtlety. In the comedy Jack and Jill (2011), lonely and homely Jill (Adam Sandler) signed up for online dating. Her foray was marred by rejection and disappointment. By the end of the film however, Jill does find love, albeit love she found offline. The romantic-comedy Because I Said So (2007) centers on Daphneâs (Diane Keaton) attempts to find love online for her daughter Milly (Mandy Moore). Like Jill, Milly ends up finding love, but again, it happens with someone met offline. In the television holiday movie A Very Merry Mix-Up (2013), despite Aliceâs (Alicia Witt) engagement to Will (Scott Gibson)âwhom she met on Mates.com with a 75% compatibility ratingâher true love, her destiny, was with Matt (Mark Wiebe) who she met serendipitously at an airport. In the âSweet Little Liesâ episode of the drama series Black Box (2014), Lina (Ali Wong) posted an online dating profile. Linaâs use of the website was scarcely mentioned again in the series; shortly after she posted her profile, she found love in the ânormal wayâ3. A variation on this theme was apparent in the pilot episode of the sitcom A to Z (2014â15), where it turned out that Andrewâs (Ben Feldman) love interest, Zelda (Cristin Milioti)âwhose profile was on his online dating companyâs websiteâhadnât actually put it there herself, in turn quietly repeating the screen truism that real love comes without the assistance of the Internet; that Andrew and Zelda were a true match because neither were really dating online. Similarly, for Diana (Natasha Henstridge) and Ken (Gabriel Hogan) in the television holiday film A Christmas Song (2012), even though they were matched onlineâon two separate occasionsâand while they ended up together, the couple already knew each other offline as teaching colleagues and thus, the Internet simply validated the serendipity of their offline match.
A different spin on this idea is fate and the Internet being framed as diametricallyâif not dangerouslyâopposed. In A Very Merry Mix-Up for example, Alice ultimately saw it as her destiny to meet Matt, regardless of the on-paper perfection of her online match with Will. In an unnamed series 2 episode of the British comedy series Starlings (2012â13), destiny was similarly alluded to when Grandpa (Alan Williams) tried online dating. After his failed dateâhis match was in a vegetative stateâhe was riding the bus home, feeling dejected, and a fellow passenger counselled him, âif youâre meant to find someone, you will.â Grandpa found comfort in this remark, an idea that, again, taps into the idea of serendipity and real love arriving, like magic, rather than being worked for, paid for or found online.
In his book Love Online, the sociologist Jean-Claude Kaufmann bitingly remarked, âWelcome to the consumerist illusion which would have us believe that we can choose a man (or a woman) in the same way that we choose a yoghurt in the hypermarket.â4 The same shopping analogy was used in the documentary Hooked (2003), centered on the use of the Internet by gay men seeking sex: âItâs like in the supermarket ⊠you go into the supermarket and look for a product that appeals to you.â The journalist David Masciotra also used this analogy: âOnline dating offers transactional romance, allowing users to browse for a partner as they would browse for a book, refrigerator, or lawnmower.â5 Not only do these remarks reference the capitalist edict of choice (discussed later in this chapter), but they present online dating as a thoroughly unromantic way to meet; that the transaction is cold, perfunctory and exists in strong opposition to Hollywoodâs idealized meet cutes. In several screen examples the apparent lack of romance in a Web meet actually gets verbalized. In the British drama Birthday Girl (2001), John (Ben Chaplin) used the FromRussiaWithLove.com site to find a bride, âNadiaâ (Nicole Kidman). Nadia, in fact, turned out to be a con artist intent on scamming him. During an argument, Johnâs new bride summarized perfectly his miserable situation which Nadia mocked was capped by his use of the Internet to find intimacy:
So tell me, John, did you say, when I grow up, what I want is to still be in this town, in this job that I hate, in a house with ants and a big bag of pornography? And then Iâm going to send off to Russia for a wife and sheâll fall in love with me. What did you expect, John? What did you really expect to happen?
Harley and Judithâs comments in Temptation: Confessions of a Marriage Counselor, and Nadiaâs comments in Birthday Girl, reflect the simple but commonly held screen belief that online dating is unromantic; that itâs nobodyâs ideal way to meet, but rather, is something succumbed to after other methods are exhausted. The title characterâs foray into online dating in the drama series Ally McBeal (1997â2002) provides a perfect illustration of this: Ally (Calista Flockhart) went online in the âDo You Wanna Dance?â episode only after exhausting many other options in pursuit of love (worth noting, Allyâs online dating efforts also failed dismally).
The supposed lack of romance in an online meet is, apparently, entrenched sufficiently in the zeitgeist for online dating companies to aggressively attempt to challenge it; an idea discussed by film theorist Michele Schreiber:
Television advertisements for the two most successful American dating sites eharmony.com and match.com actively deflate the negative connotations of online datingâs unromantic nature by appropriating aesthetics reminiscent of postfeminist romance films. Eharmonyâs advertisements are particularly skilful at playing up the serendipitous possibilities available once the site matches you.6
The sociologist John Bridges made similar points in his discussion of eHarmonyâs advertising:
[T]hose sappy, romantically oriented, overly simplistic, âI found the love of my lifeâ and âIâm so happyâ messagesâwhich successfully plucked the heart strings of those âI want to believeâ viewers in a way that left their critical faculties unengaged and their credulity unchallenged, were a major part of eHarmonyâs success.7
A 2015 Match.com commercial provides a good example of an explicit challenge to the unromantic idea: âIf youâre sitting at dinner with Mr. Right, does it matter where you met him?â This notion of the Internet as less romantic than other options is discussed in more detail in Chapter 2.
Noted earlier was the idea of online dating being imbued with stigma. In fact, such stigma has been steadily abating over the years and the use of the Internet in intimacy-seeking has undergone a progressive process of normalization, one admittedly slow to be replicated on screen.