Can You See Men?

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the name John Cena? He can't be seen. His whole internet presence revolves around the phrase, "You can't see me." Through shitty memes he's become physically invisible. Light doesn't reflect off his body. Your eyeballs can't perceive him. The real Cena, if such a thing even exists, remains hidden.

In his latest Netflix film, Little Brother, John Cena inadvertently explores another turn of the screw based on the idea of being watched while remaining unseen. It's never expressed that way in the film, but it's very clear that Cena's character (there's no point remembering his name) is in a weird state of being surveilled by omission rather than commission. It's not what he does that gets him in trouble, it's what he doesn't do. He's constantly monitored in all the areas of his life in which he lacks something. Is this a comment on the modern male condition? A pretty dumb and superficial one, but yes.

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The film follows Cena, a pretty successful realtor, during a particularly stressful moment in his life. He's got a wife, two kids, a bunch of money, and a dangerous amount of human growth hormone coursing through his veins. Just like me in every possible way, especially because of our affinity for the Five Knuckle Shuffle.

As in every other mediocre comedy, Cena thinks this is not enough. His older brother is a millionaire tech mogul who reminds Cena of what he'll never acomplish. I get this on a personal level. I've seen it with my brother, as he has always had to deal with a very successful and rich and handsome brother (me, there's only two of us). So yeah, I have a secondhand understanding of why Cena could feel insecure about his brother's success.

But the spiral of inadequacy goes way deeper. Cena also has some marital troubles. Given the size discrepancy between the two lovers, you'd think the problem is mechanical. Oh no. Cena and his wife Michelle Monaghan are stressed, so they haven't been bumping uglies for a while.

And there's another level to Cena's troubles. He's recently being cast for a new reality TV show about real estate deals, and that only adds to his anxieties and insecurities.

The thing about all these movies is that the main character, always a dude, lives in a prison of his own making. The perfect house, a loving family, money and health, yes, but these Kevin Hart-ass movies seem to think men are so fucking stupid they can't see the good in these things.

Cena's life is turned upside down when Eric André shows up. He was his little brother (the charity thing, not the biological one) from 30 years ago. Cena is the person he considers to be his closest family. You see, Cena's assistant has been answering his emails for him, and without him knowing about it, she's been developing a relationship between the two brothers. So, Eric truly believes Cena is his closest friend in the whole world, and Cena only sees him as a stranger. Shenaningans of the highest order!

So, Eric shows up wreaks havoc on Cena's uptight life. He's well-intentioned, but he keeps inadvertently stealing Cena's spotlight. He's cast a a sidekick for the reality TV show, he hits it off with Cena's real brother, he gets Michelle Monaghan to open up to him about their marriage. In every area where Cena struggles, this guy fucking kicks ass.

Also, this doesn't mean Eric André's performance is good. He yells a lot and does some slapstick, and that's about it. It's just that the movie is so simple and superficial that, by adding something even a tad different, the whole thing changes.

Before Eric shows up, Cena's neurosis has turned him into the object of surveillance; real or imagined, it doesn't matter. In practice, that's how he lives his life. His wife, his family, his assistant, his producers, his big brother, all follow his every move and, as a Greek choir, they chant, "You're not enough". He's watched every second of every day, and he sucks ass all the time. Again, just like me.

And of course, the main thing that adds to his insecurities is that lives in his brother's shadow. The real, successful man. Cena's trapped under the watchful eye of the Big Brother, but not in a political way. It's just his inadequacy as a man. Watched by all, Cena can't simply exist. He must perform, but his performances always leave something to be desired. He's punished, socially, for his omissions. He didn't answer the email. Didn't invite Eric to stay with him. Didn't donate enough to charity. Didn't love enough. In a world where dudes are measured only by performance, he's condemned for not doing enough.

There's no introspection because Cena is all about being watched, about what's outside for other to observe. So what can he do? How can he revert this problem? He must outperform. The biggest muscles, the fastest car, the hottest wife. If he doesn't have the most, then he doesn't even figure as a man. The crisis of erasure of the modern man. Not real erasure, mind you. Self-impossed erasure. There's no inner self when all you are is external.

Big Brother is watching you, John Cena, and he finds you lacking.

You can't see me, John Cena responds. Not the real me, at least. The man under the pressure of the perfect life disappears. What's left after that? Everyone sees Cena's roles (husband, realtor, TV personality, brother), but nobody sees the person underneath. His identity is just the sum of expectations.

At first, Eric André seems to be the answer to this problem. It's the one relationship in the movie where Cena isn't expected to perform because André loves him just the way he is. Of course, this is all a performance as well, as André loves the fake email version of Cena, not the real man in front of him.

In a way, the movie is saying that only other men can provide refuge from a life that is always asking more of men. In this movie's universe, men have created an ecosystem where the world keeps expecting more and more from them, and it's unsustainable. Until another dude shows up and just hangs out with you. Then you're fixed. All you need is your bro and some space to exist without surveillance or expectations.

Nice little way to fix the problem, except that it's bullshit. That only works because Eric is not on the same level as Cena. He's, in every possible way, a fuck up, but he's nice. He's not a threat to Cena, not a real one in any case. He's just a little bro. The film makes it very clear Cena would never accept those words of encouragement from his own big brother. He would find a way to not believe them or to fuck it all up.

A man stuck somewhere in the middle of the food chain; not hot shit, but not a complete failure either. Cena will never find the validation he seeks from his older brother, or from others on his level. He can only look for it down the line with the little ones. His whole problem is a prison he built for himself.

Yes, Big Brother is watching you, but Little Brother sees you.