INTRODUCTION
Filmmaking
has always had to contend with capitalism. Not only did film become a rich
contextualized way to tell stories, but it was also beset by the whims and
fancies of corporate executives that steer the film industry toward any
direction that results in profitability. This devotion to the dollar (or other
forms of currency) has historically guided film culture to the creation of
various genres. These genres are the result of the reactionary nature of the
business of film. When something “works”
(is profitable) we see it repeated, renovated, and regurgitated; turned over
and churned out until the rich nuance becomes bland. Spent. Empty. This has
happened with musicals, westerns, film noir, crime dramas, and now, the
superhero film.[1]
We are currently witnessing the over tilling of the superhero aesthetic, much
in the same way it has been done in the past. Yet, because history rhymes,
rather than recited, it always develops a little differently than before. What has allowed the superhero genre to have
a (strangle) hold on film culture is the way in which the spectacle of the
superhero film fuels the profit motive of the industry; to the point that every
major studio tries to option the next IP that may even have a hint of a
superhero flavor. This, coupled with the rise of social media, and its
incorporation into subcultural fandoms, has lead the superhero genre to become
its own monoculture; thereby voiding out any depiction or analysis of the
medium that does not fit with its myopathy.
THE SUPERHERO ADDICTION
Origin
In the beginning, before the bombast
and the heavy CGI laden visuals that mask simplistic writing and wooden
dialogue, film culture has been a predominant space for whiteness and the
celebration of white stories. This is important because the origin of this
addiction is in the rise of geek culture which has also presented itself mostly
as ethnically white. There are more white characters in comics and geek culture,
and characters that present as white, than there are characters of color. Even
today, many characters of color are obscured in secondary roles in stories. If
they are prominent, they primarily exist in the independent comic scene. The
irony of this is that a lot of comic stories appropriate the culture and
struggle of people of color and then give it to white people. The clearest
example of this being the Civil Rights struggles of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and
Malcom X were appropriated and given to two white leaders of super hero teams:
Professor Xavier and Magneto who, in the beginning, lead all white teams
against each other.
The appropriation of diverse racial culture into the
predominantly white geek space is correlated with the seeming alienation of non-traditional
masculine men. In film culture until the
late 1970’s the image of masculinity was the white masculinity of John Wayne,
Elvis Presley and Humphrey Bogart. This alienated a lot of other white men from
feeling represented. This feeling may have given some white male filmmakers a
false since of kinship with people of color and other marginalized groups
during this time, resulting in not only the aforementioned appropriation, but
the rise of the “playing the white ethnic card” practice. Typically, “the white
ethnic card” is played when a white individual uses their ethnic heritage to minimize
the struggle of people of color as a part of the “natural” process of
assimilation. This is using symbolic ethnicity[2] to deflect accusations of
racism and racial bias; while at the same time, co-opting the struggle as
something that is “American”.
Starting
in the late 70’s, you started to see a shift in the type of (white) masculinity.
It is this shift (particularly in the work of Lucas and Spielberg) that paved
the way for a generation of white male geek masculinity to flourish on screen. Through
the 1990’s this geek
masculinity (a version of the equally terrible beta male sexism) was
percolating just beneath the surface. Waiting in the fringes for the technology
to improve just enough for the doors to the studios to open. Once it did, the reservoir of toxic sexist
behavior that was left unregulated[3] was released. This geek masculinity still sexualizes and
objectifies women, still promoted violence as masculinity, and promoted anger
as a chiefly valid emotion. Yet, the difference is that this is done with an
air of intellectual superiority to both women and traditionally sexist men. It
is this type of sexism that is at the core of the geek culture that has
consumed all the mainstream film culture, leading to a modern superhero addiction.
Impact
of social media
Social media has allowed for individuals to break
geographic boundaries to build cyber social networks. In Sociology, a social
network are the social links that people create through relationships that
intertwine with others. There are direct
connections (individuals that you have a personal connection with) and indirect
connections (the individuals you are linked through an association with
another person). The more people you
meet and make connections with, the broader your social network. A cyber social network through social media
is wide and vast. We can create connections with more people than we have
personally met in our entire lives.
Social
media followers are a perfect example. A person may have a million followers on
a certain social media platform which is quite difficult to do in person. While
the overall vastness of both this concept and practice of social media can overwhelm
some people, Social media has a way of making these groups smaller through the
creation of specific subgroups to join or things to follow. Thereby curating (and
siloing) your social media experience through the tracking of a person’s online
presence by corporate consumption of meta data[4]. Individuals can be in
their own private echo chamber of thoughts opinions and ideas that shall be
supported and never challenged.
It
is the challenging of these ideas, especially in fan culture, that receives the
most visceral of reactions. These
reactions are the result of an unchanged reference group. Sociologically, Reference
Groups are the collection of individuals in our life that we use to evaluate
our own behavior. These people change
throughout our lives. Members of our group can be different based upon our age,
or what social task we must perform. Our reference groups change as we acquire
new and different skills and tasks throughout our life and as we age. We also
reject members from our groups if they fail to maintain the standard by which
they were included in the group in the first place. For example, your boss
might be in your reference group because you believe that he is honest; but
then you catch them in a lie. Consequently, you remove him from your reference
group and find someone else to fill that position. Thus, the fluid nature of
our reference groups keeps us from forming a too strong of an attachment to
these members (outside of direct family members). However, in the case of fictional characters
in media, they often can cling to a person’s reference group due to the
continuity of character writing and development. If a character is written consistently for
generations, then a person can have that character in their reference group for
potentially their entire life. This puts a lot of personal investment in a
fictional character to the point where any criticism or break in (perceived)
continuity for the character, will be taken as a personal attack on the individual
fan themselves. This is why the writers
for the Hydra
Agent Arc of Captain America got death threats as did Director
Rian Johnson for his depiction
of Luke Skywalker in The Last Jedi. While this has
continued to happen repeated for as long as fan culture has existed, social
media tends to compound the problem exponentially. As indicated when the comic
fan culture took aim at Martin Scorsese.
In
an op-ed for the New York Times published Nov 4th, 2019, modern movie
master Martin Scorsese explained why in an interview he stated that Marvel Movies
Aren’t Cinema, and that he did not care for them. The crux of his argument is that Marvel films
(he does not speak to the broader Superhero Genre) do not have any “revelation,
mystery or genuine emotional danger. Nothing is at Risk.” He goes on to believe
that all the sequels and connected universe building is just giving the
audience more of the same. While this might be bad enough, Scorsese fears that
because of the success of these films, it may cause studios to drift away from
independent cinema because it is not as profitable. He is worried that to focus
on ONLY Superhero films will lead to the death of cinema itself. The article, as of this writing has over 1900
comments, many of them overly aggressive and criticizing Scorsese for his
opinion, going so far to make ageist comments and unprovoked criticism at
Scorsese’s body of work. When the
internet equalizes all opinions, it lowers the level of discourse in spaces
like social media to the lowest common denominator.
Why Marty was Right
For
Superhero film historians the (post) modern superhero film culture we are
currently living through began in 1998 with New Line Cinema’s release of Blade.
Before this, film had dipped its toe in the superhero waters with only
culturally well-known characters like Batman and Superman, but never drifted
cinematically outside of this very narrow box.
Yet, regardless of Blade’s success, it did not spark the fire
that was needed to get “the superhero genre” off the ground until the release
of X-Men in 2000 by the now defunct 20th Century Fox.
The
proverbial pebble that starts a landslide, X-Men (and its film
franchise) led to the Sam Raimi helmed Spiderman Trilogy, Ang Lee’s Hulk
and Guillermo Del Toro’s Hellboy duology. Still, the trepidation and
lack of guidance from producers and filmmakers kept the genre a float, but did
not maximize its full capitalistic potential until it broke the “billion dollar
gross” ceiling with Nolan’s
The Dark Knight Trilogy and the entire Marvel
Cinematic Universe . This is when super heroes went from a
sample on a tasting menu of unique films,
to the cinematic experience of k rations
This
analogy is pointing to the homogenization of content and products through the
process routinized bureaucratic capitalism maintained by a colonial style
globalization that leaves us with volumes of goods with little value.
As
I mentioned in a
previous essay:
In 2004, [George] Ritzer
came up with a term Grobalization- to define all of the macro
level rationalized dehumanizing practices of the process of globalization.
Ritzer and [Roland] Robertson (separately) came to the conclusion that
Grobalization- produced “Nothing”. Nothing was defined as anything that was
devoid of unique and distinct content, homogenized to appeal the broadest
audience possible. “Nothing” is the chief product of mass production; the
foremost architect of mass production are corporations. The profit motive that
drives corporations leads to the inevitable production of nothing because Nothing
is safe, it does not take a social or political stance. Additionally, because
of its lack of focus, more advertising dollars are put in to the selling of
‘Nothing’ because advertisers have to “Manufacture desire” for that thing in
the minds of consumers (hence
the pitch towards a synergy of content).
Therefore, instead of “something’ people want various forms of ‘Nothing’ A
product that gives the illusion of both quality and content, (the illusion that
it is in fact ‘something’ when it is not) while making it easier for producers
to create something for the broadest and simplistic tastes.
This is what the Superhero genre, guided by
massive corporations like Disney and Time Warner, has produced; content that is
so monetized and standardized that it is devoid of life (with only a few exceptions)[5]. The inevitable success of
‘Nothing’ causes its reproduction. If something is reproduced enough, it moves
from a subcultural component to a part of the dominant culture. Thanks to
Disney, people know who Captain Marvel, The Guardians of the Galaxy, Black
Panther and Thanos are. Before the Disney films, these names were only
whispered in hush tones in the basements of geeks. Now, they are becoming as recognizable as
Batman and Superman.
Most
major food manufactures are chasing “the
bliss point”. This is the optimization of sugar salt
and fat which maximizes deliciousness and results in mass consumption. One of
the reasons this Grobalization of comic book content has led to the proverbial
“Nothing” is because Disney has cracked “the bliss point” of cinema. It is the combination of sensory stimuli,
emotional engagement, and social distraction that keeps the audiences rolling
in to see stories that are similar to one another . This is cinematic junk food; and in small
portions, this junk food is tasty and relatively harmless. However, when you
make junk food a major staple of your media diet, it results in our film
culture becoming gluttonously sick. We are addicts in need of detox.
CASE STUDY: THE EASTRAIL
177 TRILOGY
The Eastrail 177 trilogy is the
uncommon moniker for the three films in M. Night Shyamalan’s Unbreakable universe.
Those three films consist of Unbreakable (2000), Split (2016) and
Glass (2019). This is an interesting case study for understanding the
impact and oversaturation of geek culture in film because:
1.
The Production of the Trilogy spans the
time before and after Geek culture invaded film.
2.
The Trilogy was one that was not planned
out ahead of time with unflinching rigidity
Film Synopsis
Unbreakable
This film follows the
story of security guard David Dunn (Bruce Willis) who survives a deadly train crash
(Eastrail 177) without a scratch. He is later approached by an eccentric comic
art collector Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson) with brittle bone disease who questions
his mild-mannered demeanor. Through
their conversations, and uncompromising support from his son, Joseph, David
begins to realize the true power that he has always had.
Split
Casey, a social outcast
high schooler is given a ride home by a few classmates when the three girls are
abducted by a man who seemingly suffers from DID (Dissociative Identity
Disorder). As Casey looks to find a way out, Kevin, their captor (James McAvoy)
begins to prepare for the birth of a new personality. As preparations commence,
Karen Fletcher, Kevin’s psychologist concludes that he was misdiagnosed, Rather
than DID, he is a supervillain with 10 of his 23 personalities adopting the
moniker “The Horde”; and their leader proclaimed as “The Beast”. Upon hearing
this, David Dunn (Bruce Willis) sets his sights to capture him.
Glass
Set three weeks after the
ending of Split, David Dunn and his now adult son Joseph track “The
Horde” just after they abducted a group of female cheerleaders. As “The Unbreakable
Man” confronts “The Beast”, their conflict is cut short by Dr. Elie Staple who
captures and incarcerates both men in Raven Hill Memorial Institute, believing
their super heroics/villainy to be nothing more than a delusion. Once there, David
finds out that one of the institutes longtime residents is none other than Elijah
Price (Sam Jackson). With all his pieces now on the board, the self-aggrandized
“Mr. Glass” puts his true plan into motion.
There are 35 pages and 124
illustrations in the average comic book.
A
single-issue range in price between $1.00 and $140,000.
172,000
comics are sold in the US Every day. Over
62, 780,000 each year.
The average comics collector owns 3, 312 comics and
will spend approximately one year of their life reading them
The Opening Text of M. Night
Shyamalan’s Unbreakable
The
opening text of Unbreakable is a good indicator of the state of comic
books and the comic book/superhero medium in film twenty years ago. The audience needed to be primed with the
overall profitability and popularity of comic books and superheroes to be
engaged with the story. It is almost as
if in this opening Shyamalan is saying “Trust me. The story I am about to tell
is legitimate.” Today, this seems quaint, and baffling that such a film would
need to be legitimated considering the monoculture of the superhero films now; and
especially ironic that
Shyamalan had to argue with Disney (The
Parent company of Touchtone Pictures) to allow this film to be about
superheroes and marketed as such. This is because, the film was in
production in 1999 well before “the official” glass ceiling of Superhero films was
broken with X-Men July of the next year.
Since Unbreakable was released in November, 2000, it is an
interesting thought experiment to ask if marketing it as a Superhero film would
have made a difference? When you compare Unbreakable to X-Men,
the latter certainly looks more comic book than the former. Yet, the whole
premise of Unbreakable is how comic books evolved out of myths and
storytelling which exaggerated the abilities of superpowered people. So, from
the beginning, Unbreakable was unconventional superhero story one that
seemed to be more analytical than most, an academic analysis that gets both
lost and unappreciated in the near two decades since.
In
the time between Unbreakable and Split the comic culture
enveloped most media, taking comics from a fringe interest to mainstream
acceptance. In comparison to the data cited in the beginning of Unbreakable,
as of 2019, the comics industry generates, in North America alone, around
1.21 billion dollars annually. This is a combination of single-issue comics,
graphic novels, trade paperbacks, and digital comics. Yet, during the time of Unbreakable’
s release, Marvel was in the process of mortgaging their character’s licenses to
avoid bankruptcy. The question is when and why did it change?
The
beginning of the Monoculture of comics began with the corporatization of comic
characters. When characters began to be acquired by major corporations (WB,
Sony, Disney), and those characters started to become successful, those
corporations began to give us more of the same. As I alluded to earlier, there
is an inherit flaw in Capitalism that causes profit driven media corporations,
and the people who run them (mainly white men), to squeeze every ounce of
financial capital out of all intellectual property they have. For example, when
you compare Marvel Phase one with Marvel Phase four, there is a gradual decline
in the tier of characters along with spreading them thin over an interconnected
universe that spans many types of media platforms (film, television, shorts etc.)
Geek
Aside
Ok,
I know many Marvel Zombies that may have read that statement and now have a
huge geek beef. Sigh. I am aware that a lot of the characters in Marvel’s Phase
1 were not considered upper tier in the comics until the movies were successful
(Iron Man being the prime example), and that their most successful character in
the comic books at the time was off limits because that character (Spider-man),
and all of the characters associated with him, were owned by another company.
Yes, Marvel had to make do with what they had left and what toy manufacturer
Avi Arad didn’t set up yet at other studios. But again, this comes back to
capitalism. If you always need more profit, and you use up a character, (this
is particularly pertinent when considering movies, how long they take to make
and the natural aging of actors.) you are bound to find other “revenue streams”
(characters) on which to exploit.
Before and After the
Invasion (Continued)
Yet, because Unbreakable was produced
and released before comic book legitimation by the corporatization of
superheroes, it is a time capsule of how comic books were treated before all of
this. It harkens back to a time when going to a comic book show had the same
amount of shame as an adult bookstore. The entrance to comic book shops were in
weird alleyways and your “stash” would be wrapped in the all too familiar black
plastic bag. Comic book fans up until the 2000’s (really the 2010’s) were the
bullied. This did not change until the economy shifted, and we saw a rise in
tech based white collar jobs (not to mention the Silicon Valley dot com boom of
the 90’s). This is because there is a strong overlap between comic book
enthusiasm and school academics, particularly computer technology. So, it
stands to reason that when that the cultural interests of those individuals who
now were in high status positions, the subcultures they were interesting and a
part of would also be elevated. Unbreakable just came too early for the
culture to truly appreciate it, and because it wasn’t linked to a preexisting
IP, it did not stick around in the public consciousness[6] Thus, it was forgotten in
the mainstream public for 19 years.
The Unplanned Trilogy: Insurgency,
Archetypes, and subverting expectations
In interviews, M Night
Shyamalan always said that he had ideas for an Unbreakable trilogy.
Shyamalan has stated that Unbreakable was the origin of a superhero who
would have a peak then fall. Originally, “Unbreakable 2” was going to
center on David Dunn tracking and capturing “The Horde” Then, because a series of cinematic setbacks, Shyamalan
was hesitant to dip back in, at least directly.
So, he conceived the next film to be stealth sequel and as a super villain
origin story. Yet, only marketed Split as a psychological thriller, without
mention of what universe the film lives in, allowing the film to stand on its
own two feet. However, because Shyamalan is a master of hyping his own work, he
used the inclusion of David Dunn at the ending of Split to test the audience
interests for Glass. The reveal and subversion went better than Shyamalan
expected, going so far as to increase the positive word of mouth for Split,
thereby raising ticket sales and green lighting the final chapter in the “trilogy”. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to both Shyamalan
and the audience, their expectations have crystalized into a desire he was not
willing to fulfil.
The
reaction to the end of Split is partially a function of, and reaction to
the ingrained mono comic culture that we live in. When the camera pans and reveals David Dunn
in that diner at the end of Split, audiences are expecting the next film
(Glass) to be an exclusive clash between Dunn and Crumb, in the spirit
of the comic book culture to which they have been conditioned. Instead, they
got a dissertation, the thesis of which was far more contemplative than the
audience expected. Through this (albeit shallow) academic analysis, (That was, to
Shyamalan’s credit, consistent with the tone and world he set up in Unbreakable)
Shyamalan deconstructs comic books and comic book storytelling that has, in the
interim, tapped into our basic instincts and feeling of childlike wonder, to
become a touchtone of modern cinema. In short, the problem with Glass is
not in the film itself, it is in what people wanted from it. Most people wanted
to see a fun action movie where the hero and the villain fight, with the
spectacle and majesty that they have grown accustom to. They were not looking
for a philosophical meditation on the notion of heroism. They came for a party,
instead they walked into a lecture.
Because
Glass was tasked with merging two seemingly independent stories and was
written at a time where culture is saturated with comics/superhero content, Shyamalan
was purposeful in his design to subvert expectations of the audience. Glass
twists the audience into a pretzel as it continually promises, fulfills and undermines
audience expectations. The first twenty
minutes of Glass is everything a modern comic book fan would want. A straightforward
structure of The Hero tracking The Villain, saving the hostages, and engaging
in fisticuffs. Then, at the beginning of
Act II, the film grinds to a halt and starts to ask deeper questions, that
given the film’s rotten
tomatoes score many people were not interested in asking. As the third act
begins to ramp up, Shyamalan teases a huge MARVEL-ous climax that involves
fighting in a newly constructed building that may or may not explode[7]. He has the audience
again, then has the “showdown” in the front grounds of the institute
unceremoniously. This again, is consistent with the thesis from Unbreakable.
The fight on the building with thousands of people in danger would be the comic
book version about something, that in the film’s reality, took place in a
parking lot. Unfortunately, regardless
of this consistency, we have reached a point in the permeation of comic culture,
that modern audiences wanted the teased comic book come to life, rather than an
introspective scholarly evaluation of the subject. The result was disappointment. Not for what
the film is, but because of the audience’s exaggerated expectations; primed by
a culture run amuck, the film was set up to fail.
Shyamalan Criticism
The consensus on Shyamalan’s filmography is that he starts
out strong in his first four films, but progressively got worse with each film after
Unbreakable up until Split. Some of the speculation was that with
the success of his first quartet of films, he garnered enough support and trust
in the industry that those in production with him did not censure his work. Shyamalan
is known for keeping the same people around on his production crews from film
to film. This could have had the consequence of insulating him from the limits
and criticism from which his best work develops. This all culminated in the
atrocious duo of films in a three-year period, The Last Airbender[8]
and After Earth. The former being a whitewashed concentrated
adaptation of a progressive and much beloved animated show. The latter a
stealth Scientology soliloquy.
If
you look at Shyamalan’s filmography a subjective argument can be made that he
makes his best work when he has both limits and something to lose. This is why, starting with The Visit, Shyamalan
began to fully finance or co-finance all of his films with horror producer
Jason Blum of Blumhouse productions. Shyamalan has mortgaged his house, and re
wrote whole scripts while in the development stage and the results of these restrictions
were rewarded in renewed acclaim for his films.
One
of the criticisms of Shyamalan’s recent work that has merit, revolves around Split’s
use of the real diagnosable condition DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). Many
groups in support of those with a DID diagnosis, believed depicting the
disorder in this way would add to the already horrible track record Hollywood
has for representing mental
illness on screen. These groups also presented data on the
frequency of DID patients acting violently. In an open letter
to Shyamalan himself, the presented data that showed violence among DID
patients to be a rarity. In this regard,
there was a missed opportunity in Split’s third act. Shyamalan had
already set up the character of Karen Fletcher (played by Betty Buckley) to be
on the fringes of the psychological community. Therefore, when Karen confronts
“The Horde” at the end of Split, she could have said a simple line of
dialogue: “I was wrong.”
Split
falls
into another trap in the way that it uses the trope of abuse and child sexual
violence. In the film, it can be interpreted that the abuse experienced by
Casey, “the final girl”, to use horror movie parlance, does “save her” in the
end due to the ideology of “The Beast” valuing “the broken” as pure. While this
is nothing new, horror movies for generations have played on these ideas. Yet,
it is disappointing that in such a progressive age, this sexist tired and lazy plot
device would still be used. However, if I am at my most magnanimous, “The
Beast” defines her “pure” not because the knowledge of the sexual abuse is made
aware to him; but because he sees the scars on Casey’s body from “cutting”, a
common coping mechanism for trauma. The Beast is only aware that she has
experienced trauma, as he has, but he does not know what kind; the nature of
the abuse is only revealed to the audience, which is not necessary.
CONCLUSION
For the last decade, film culture has
been besieged by comic books and Superheroes to the point that the films that
make money at the theater. In
2019, Disney alone made up 33% of the market share for overall ticket sales.
Their closest competitor only had 13% (WB).
Couple this with the bureaucratically homogenized way that Disney, and
other corporations, consume IP and produce their content, is there any wonder why
all (studio) films look the same? These studios also have the marketing budget
to make sure their product gets in front of as many eyes as possible. The result is a negative impact on film
culture itself. It has caused the expiation of the best picture categories from
5 to 10, created the discussion of the “popular” Oscar category, and set such an
unrealistic bar for success that it has killed mid-range budget filmmaking. I
often wonder what “The Eastrail 177 Trilogy” would look like if Shyamalan would
have got to create his trilogy closer together in time. What would the Unbreakable/Split/Glass
story be, if it did not have to contend with a film culture that is so
supported by the “comics off the page” aesthetic? Would it have been better received?
I would like to think so; and that is the ultimate tragedy of the whole thing.
Because, in the words of Martin Scorsese, “the [filmmaking] situation at this
moment is brutal and inhospitable to art.” As it turns out, even inhospitable
to other comic/superhero interpretations outside of those owned by giant
corporations.
[1] I
wanted to regulate this mini argument to a endnote. There are some that would
not define Superhero films as a genre. In this (usually passionate) defense of
superhero films not being a genre many will point to several more recent
examples of superhero films that are also a crime story (TDK) or an espionage
thriller (Winter Soldier). Yet, the same can be said about various films
categorized in Drama, Comedy, or Action.
There are certain beats that the Superhero film, regardless of the other
genre’s it is intersecting with, that they have which make it a superhero film
[2] Symbolic
ethnicity is a term by Mary Waters to describe the particular form of white
privilege that allows white people to only be abstractly connected to their
ethnic heritage in superficial ways
[3]
Nope the comics code does not count
[4]
This
has become of increasing importance to the film industry because it is a direct
line to the consumer. Many actors now may gain or lose roles based upon their social
media presence and the number of followers they have
[6]
There was little merchandising and cross platform promotion for Unbreakable to
make and keep public engagement in the project
[7] Shyamalan
even trolls the audience in a magazine article for the Building by calling it a
Marvel in the same letter font and style of the Company/Studio
[8] Personally,
due to my love of Avatar and its sequel series Korra, Shyamalan’s
film is the worst thing I have ever seen. In addition to the film being poorly
paced with too much exposition and wooden acting The film sparked race
representation controversies. According to a comprehensive report in 2016 from
the University of California "71.7%
were white, 12.2% Black, 5.8% Hispanic/Latino, 5.1% Asian, 2.3% Middle Eastern
and 3.1% other",
