Yesterday I spent the last Saturday of my “spring” break watching two movies, one old and one newer. In both of these films I noticed some expressions that surprised me for their scripting; perhaps I was at the ready to notice word choice because my students’ last papers were Definition essays, mostly about “slang” words (though their definitions of what counts as “slang” varies WIDELY) that have common meanings different from their dictionary meanings.
First, I watched “The Best Years of Our Lives,” a really brilliant 1946 film about three WWII veterans returning home to “Boone City” and their families. You really should watch the movie, if you haven’t seen it. Anyhow, there were a few things people said in this film that struck me as colloquial and which I realized — after being jarred by them — I wasn’t expecting to hear in a film representing the 1940s. Some of the ones I remember are:
sold out [said by a shopowner who had sold his drugstore during the war to a big franchise]
He’s hot [said by a wife about her returning serviceman]
I must’ve been plastered [said by a serviceman about being drunk the night before]
These are all terms that are still commonly used today, and that still (to me, anyway) have a colloquial-bordering-on-slang connotation to them. They are therefore not expressions I would’ve guessed to be contemporary to 1946. I think I’ve been conditioned to think that old(ish) black-and-white films will be full of quaint expressions that don’t carry the same force today as they did “back then,” and this is in fact part of the pleasure of the experience of watching “old movies.” But this script could’ve been written today and still maintained many of the elements of conversational English that it employed in what I presume is attempted realism.
Which of course underscores a key point about conversational word meanings, which is that often they are not nearly as “new” as we manage to think they are. I mean, I had a student write about the word “hot” (adj. “sexy or attractive”) as if it were a product of *her* (18-year-old) generation, for goodness’ sake! One thing that happens when my students have written these Definition papers is that they pick words they think are recently-initiated slang words (gay, hot, shawty, kicks, piece, shady, tool, beast, booty, sick), and then they write either a) mundane papers that assume that the word is ONLY used in its slang meaning by teens, that teens invented that usage, and that “older generations” don’t understand it, or b) really interesting papers that unearth a history to the word’s slang meaning that the student hadn’t known about before. In both cases, it’s clear that the students have been inculcated to believe (or have constructed a belief themselves) that “their” “teen language” is categorically different from the language of anyone older than them. This is really interesting given that in the language ideologies biz, we typically think of language authorities (teachers, writers, etc.) as blaming teens for “ruining the language” or talking in crazy slang, yet teens themselves are (re)producing those stereotypes about their age group. So I see a lot of unarticulated identity work happening in youth culture re: words/language.
That got me off track a bit. Another movie I watched yesterday was “American Me,” a 1992 film about the founders of the Mexican Mafia and prison/street gang life in LA. This movie was interesting for its subtitling practices alone — the characters codeswitch between English and Spanish a lot, both intrasententially and intersententially. Naturally, when the characters speak whole sentences in Spanish, the movie provides English subtitles, which seems normal. But then when they codeswitch within sentences, the movie ALSO provides English subtitles, which is interesting since it’s often only one word out of the whole sentence that’s in Spanish. And sometimes there would even be an English slang word in a sentence and then the whole sentence would be subtitled. Anyway, as for the relevant word that I found interesting for its inclusion, it was:
For reals? [said by a love interest to the main character after he has admitted that it's his first time ever being at the beach]
I don’t have much to say about this one, except that “for reals” was something “funny” that people in my high school (POST-1992, btw) would say to each other to be silly or ironic, instead of “for real.” I never thought about the expression or where it came from, but I’m pretty sure that at the time, we thought we’d made it up. Clearly not.