You’re Going to Hollywood Dawg: symbolic representations of the collective unconscious in American Idol

“Most learned judge!”—Shylock 

American Idol did not accidentally soar to popularity in the aftermath of the post-2000 presidential election. Subconsciously, we wanted our votes to count somewhere. We wanted a triumvirate after the loss of our proverbial Caesar. And, we wanted a day of judgment.
 

But there are other reasons we watched. I speak as if the show is over—but isn’t it really? Haven’t we seen it enough? Why people keep watching this show is complicated, but some of the strong motivations are obvious—at least to me they are.  

First and foremost, we want to see Simon Cowell (isn’t it a wonderful coincidence that his name sounds like scowl?) say something nice to someone. This really is American pop culture’s way of dealing with our collective anxiety for approval. The difference between Cowell and the other judges in our collective unconscious isn’t so much personality as nationality.  

We collectively have a younger-sibling insecurity complex in relation to Great Britain. We are freer than they are, more relaxed, less formal, less structured—but we are, we secretly fear, not as smart. To overcome this fear—or at least to subdue it—we have wonderfully symbolic stories emphasized in our grade-school education. There’s the vivid story of how we used camouflage to defeat the British in their bright red uniforms. And of course, the super-symbolic and ultra-heroic Boston Tea Party is probably the most vivid of the American Revolution stories. 

Grade-school stories aside—we have a very outwardly healthy social sense of self, this American Culture. But, when we collectively make a boo-boo, like electing GW to office, our subconscious insecurities rise to just beneath the surface. We watched American Idol, therefore, wondering, “Am I OK?” We wanted Simon Cowell to tell us we were.  

This need for the approval of our peers is essentially a national form of teenage angst. No American can deny the relief of the headline, “World: America is Cool Again.” It may be possible that we—at least for now—won’t look for Cowell’s (or nanny Jo’s, or that British guy from that David Hassellhoff reality show’s ) approval. But the American Idol format for the first part of the season, the part where people wait on long lines for days just to sing for 30 seconds in the hopes of hearing those divine words of approval “You’re going to Hollywood,” has earned a unique place in the American Imagination. We had in the 80’s the Rocky Fantasy, The Rambo Fantasy, the Karate Kid Fantasy—moments of conquering—moments of heroism. As we soon say goodbye (and I really hope we do soon—aren’t we over it yet?) to American Idol, it will be with a bit of fondness. The meaning of singing in the shower will never again be the same.  

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