Pop pimples

Some celebrities' careers are founded on their anatomical quirks. Harrison Ford's lopsided grin, Adrian Brody's crag of a nose, and Jewel's snaggletooth, for instance, have all lent their famous faces charm and instant recognizability. In a time when plastic perfection is attainable, maintaining a state of imperfection is a conscious decision. Those who go on wearing their peculiarities wear them with pride. The right person can transform an unsightly trait into dazzling accessory, impossible to appropriate. Marilyn Monroe, Cindy Crawford, and Enrique Iglesias have all made mountains of money from the moles on their bodies.

Recently, a new flaw has surfaced on faces on-screen—though this one is no one's trademark, not charming, and unlikely to boost any celebrity's income. High-definition TV makes acne and other dermatological deficiencies painfully visible. Every blemish, every bump, and zit stands out from the screen as if three-dimensional. The real shock is being able to see the spots of gooey concealer painted over them. Movie stars suddenly look like high school actors who have rushed out from the wings after the show to hug their friends, all coated in dried sheets of foundation. According to Virginia Heffernan, the faces of actors on TV are meant to appear roughly the same size as the viewer's. Maybe on a standard set. A few weeks ago, on a multi-thousand Samsung inside the store in the Time Warner Center, I saw some fleshy callosities on Cameron Diaz's visage that looked as though they might have been expunged from the back of a right whale. It seems the definition and size of TV screens has an inverse relationship with their subjects' magnificence.

Before HDTV, acne only surfaced on TV when it was part of the plot. One of the most common scenarios on sitcoms and family dramas involves a teenager developing a zit on the morning of class pictures or a much-anticipated date. (See such gems as That 70's Show, "Class Picture" or Sister, Sister, "The Pimple.") TV zits were satires: comically large, maroon, and usually on the tip of a nose or on the upper corner of a greasy forehead. That is, if the zits were shown at all. An episode of Saved By the Bell called "Cream for a Day,"—in which, you guessed it, Kelly gets a doozy the day of Homecoming—features a character ridiculed for his acne, known in the halls of Bayside as Craterface Coburn. Only, Craterface's face looks perfectly clear, the same orangey-tan shade as Zack Morris'. At the end of the episode, after Zack's miracle cream has supposedly effaced Craterface's craters, it would take an HDTV to detect the dermatological difference. Acne, in all its red and rashy glory, is a regular feature of teenage faces. Why, then, have the shows that target an adolescent audience misrepresented its presentation and treated it as a novelty?

The TV screen has made this much clear: pimples are a decidedly uncute facial flaw. At best, they warrant concealment, and at worst, they are grounds to skip school or force your twin sister impersonate you on a date. Acne, unlike moles or crooked teeth, is something that everyone should do their best to hide. But for the first time, intentionally or not, pimples are enjoying their moment to shine on the small screen.