December 2012 – Page 3

Adaptive Female Voices in ‘Days of Heaven’

Terrence Malick’s 1978 film, Days of Heaven, is considered a film classic well-known for it’s portrayal of the American myth and its spectacular cinematography (though I don’t think I know anyone who’s ever seen it).

The film is typical Terrence Malick, a bit pretentious, with a lack of dialogue and a struggle with continuous narrative, but beautiful and unique at the same time. Set against the poverty of the Great Depression, Richard Gere (Bill) stars as a transient worker in the Texas Panhandle traveling with his girlfriend, Brooke Adams (Abby), and his younger sister Linda Manz (Linda) who is also the narrator. While working at a wheat farm, the dying owner of the farm falls in love with Abby who he believes is also Bill’s sister. Bill encourages Abby to marry the farmer since he’ll be dying soon anyway and they obviously need the money. A love triangle results, bad things happen, fire and death ensues.

There’s the obvious sort of concerns a feminist would have for a film with a plot like this; first, Bill seems to think its fine to pimp out his girlfriend and then get’s angry when she actually falls for the guy. Second, both men fight over her and no one ever seems to ask her what she wants. However, I found the movie surprising because in the end, it’s Linda and Abby who are the driving force of the film and who both show independence as they move forward in life.

The most interesting character in this film though is Bill’s younger sister, a street-wise little girl who’s blunt narrative underscores her own realistic perceptions of the world. Strangely adult, with a rambling, youthful narration style, she accepts the events of her life without too much fuss, offering a sensible, down-too-earth, yet empathetic commentary on the actions of her brother and his girlfriend.

Linda Manz as Linda in Days of Heaven

Both of the women are calmly accepting of the events of their life and are highly adaptive. While the whole world is burning around them and they seem to be losing everything, they continue to survive and try to make a new life for themselves wherever they’re thrown. In the end, despite the damage that’s been caused in their name, the two women are hopeful and even excited about their future.

It’s this adaptive nature that I find so compelling in these two protagonists and seems to be a theme I’ve noticed in most female narratives. For example, think of pretty much any movie with single mothers, or Skyler from Breaking Bad, Scarlet O’Hara in Gone With The Wind (not a nice example, but definitely adaptive), Steel Magnolias, Fried Green Tomatoes, The Color Purple, Winter’s Bone, (hell, Ripley in Alien). Each of these female characters is moved about and acted upon and thrown into unexpected situations, yet each manages to thrive. Perhaps in a world where so much has been dictated to them, this adaptive nature of so many women is a natural result.

Six Essential Christmas Specials

This Christmas will be my second in a row spent 5000 miles away from my family and the happy, traditional celebrations that characterized the first 21 Christmases of my life. I am feeling pretty okay about this, though, because I’ve discovered the essential ingredients for Christmas to be Christmas. They’re not family or presents or a big meal or the baby Jesus. As it turns out, all I really need to get into the holiday mood is my little list of essential Christmas viewing.

This is an exact depiction of the Lukan birth narrative, right? Look, I’m a theologian, not a biblical scholar.

For your viewing pleasure – particularly if you are far distant from family traditions – I share with you my Six Things To Watch Otherwise It’s Not Christmas.

(Sorry, Die Hard not included.)

Mystery Science Theater 3000 season 5 episode 21: “Santa Claus”

This is a deeply, profoundly, horrendously painful movie to watch. If you ever wanted to watch Saint Nick best Old Nick, where Saint Nick is the creepiest non-serial-killer Santa in cinematic history while the devil is just flat-out incompetent, then there’s something very very wrong with you, but there’s also a movie that caters directly to your reprehensible tastes. For everyone else, enjoy that endless beginning sequence of Santa’s sweatshop flagrantly flouting child labor laws – a timely reminder that the gifts you give and receive this holiday season were probably made by actual child laborers in actual sweatshops. Merry Christmas!

Also, the best holiday song ever.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 season 3 episode 21: “Santa Claus Conquers the Martians”

This one, on the other hand? Is just so stupid, I can’t even. Yes, it is literally a movie about Martians kidnapping Santa Claus. Yes, it’s terrible on every conceivable level. And yet, to my shame, I find it immensely watchable. Honestly, if this movie had never appeared on MST3K, I would probably watch it every year anyway. Luckily, it was not only featured on MST3K, it was re-riffed by the same team with all-new jokes a couple years ago, which means I get to watch it twice without looking like a person who enjoys watching this movie.

Also, the second-best holiday song ever.

The Muppet Christmas Carol

I don’t need to say anything about this. It’s The Muppet Christmas Carol. Who ever heard of a Christmas without The Muppet Christmas Carol?

Pictured: Christmas.

A Colbert Christmas: The Greatest Gift of All!

I’ll be honest, the rewatch value on Stephen Colbert’s 2008 Christmas special is not that high, and your patience for the songs is likely to vary wildly depending on your ability to stomach the assorted musical guests. (Goddamn, the Toby Keith bit is painful.) But the opening number is pretty great, and I sometimes have these cynical moments when “There Are Much Worse Things To Believe In” is my favorite Christmas song ever.

Community season 2 episode 11: “Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas”

So what if it’s only two years old? It’s super amazing forever! Songs! Feelings! Stop-motion, of which it is legally mandated that every list of favorite Christmas specials must include at least one! The Christmas pterodactyl! Also, it’s freaking Community!!

Did you know it’s coming back on February 7???

The Snowman

A very British entry to round out the list. If you’re unfamiliar with The Snowman, it’s a short, wordless, entirely lovely animated film about a boy whose snowman comes to life. You should watch it this Christmas and have a good cry.


Happy hols, everyone!

Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Megan‘s Picks:

How to Increase Media Diversity: 3 Lessons from the London Feminist Film Festival by Spectra via Racialicious

Female Trouble: Why Powerful Women Threaten Hollywood by Sasha Stone via Awards Daily

Why Having Only Strong Girl Heroines Is Not Enough by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

Matt Lauer Is Gross, Anne Hathaway Kicks Slut-Shaming’s Ass by Jos Truitt via Feministing

Women of Color Talk Back: “Birthday Song” via FAAN Mail

Shonda Rhimes On Why She Has Many Gay Characters on Her Shows by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

The Female Pilots Who Were Cut From ‘Return of the Jedi’ and the Future of Star Wars by Alyssa Rosenberg via Think Progress

Why Talking About Character Gender Still Matters (Even Though It Shouldn’t) by Becky Chambers via The Mary Sue

Serena Williams Is Not a Costume by Jessica Luther via Speaker’s Corner in the ATX (scATX )

‘The Mindy Project’: The Best Show You’re Not Watching by Molly McCaffrey via I Will Not Diet

The Censorship of ‘Mean Girls’: What Was MTV Thinking? by Ramou Starr via Hello Giggles

If Women Ran Hollywood… by Karensa Cadenas via Women and Hollywood

What have you read (or written) this week that you’d like to share?

‘Anna Karenina,’ and the Tragedy of Being a Woman in the Wrong Era

Keira Knightley as Anna Karenina

Written by Erin Fenner.

In Joe Wright’s adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, we are relentlessly stuck in a nineteenth-century playhouse.

Instead of moving through space – sets move around the characters. Everyone is a tool of their society. They’re subject to frivolous, yet harmful social etiquette. And while props whiz past the characters, they are near static – sometimes their only movement is to literally fall backwards into another scene. Whatever personal will characters have is not rational, but instinctual and overwhelming. The characters base their life on propriety but their motivation shifts to a need to seek pleasure, and then a need to simply not suffer.

Anna Karenina is about how love is battered by rigid societal structures – how norms create an appearance of civility, but ultimately destroy individuals.

Anna Karenina (Keira Knightley) is a young married mother. Her husband, Alexi Karenin, (Jude Law) is a well-respected statesman and painfully kind. We meet Anna as she begins her journey to Moscow to see her brother, Oblonsky (Matthew Macfayden). There, her goal is to convince her brother’s wife, Dolly (Kelly Macdonald), to stay in her marriage. Oblonsky has been casually adulterous, and Dolly can’t bear to stay with him.

Oblonsky committed adultery and is only threatened with losing his wife. Dolly, on the other hand, now devastated by a man she devoted her life to, cannot do anything without losing everything. So, she forgives Oblonsky. And he returns to philandering because, as a man, he is exempt from the stringent rules that do apply to women. For men, societal rules are a game. For women, it’s serious. So, while the tragedy in Oblonksy’s family should be his own – his flaw being infidelity – the tragedy is his wife’s. Her flaw is that she is unfortunate enough to be a woman in a culture that denies women autonomy.

Anna convinces Dolly to stay with Oblonsky with a brutally layered argument. She sandwiches love around impending destitution. You love him right? If you leave him you will have nothing. But, don’t worry, because you love him.

This is how we meet Anna – as manipulative as the shifting set around her. She is persuading her sister-in-law with good intentions – but based on a system’s rules that ultimately marginalize.

It is almost immediately after meeting with Dolly that Anna pushes against propriety by dancing all night with the handsome young Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) who is certainly not her husband. Wright, who also directed Pride and Prejudice¸ uses a device in Anna Kareninen that is reminiscent of a scene from Pride and Prejudice. Anna and Vronsky enter the dance floor and the rest of the dancers are frozen intermittently throughout a song – then the extra dancers disappear leaving us only with Anna and Vronsky. And Anna’s social rationality begins to slip.

Knightley and Aaron Taylor-Johnson in Anna Karenina

It is after this that Vronsky begins taking extreme measures to seduce Anna. When she returns home from Moscow to St. Petersburg, Vronksy follows her and sets up in her town. He attends the parties she does and regularly indicates his interest in her even though she just as regularly declines him. Stalking has regularly been portrayed as a fundamental (and even romantic) aspect of courtship. Vronsky doesn’t win likability by his entitled, desperate and coercive approach to wooing an unwilling married woman. Of course Vronsky is able to stalk because it won’t damage his reputation, won’t strip him of livelihood or alienate him from his community. Anna has everything to lose. So, when they do consummate their affair, Anna calls Vronsky a “murderer” of her “happiness.”

[Spoilers ahead]

When Anna confesses her affair to her husband, Alexi’s main aim is to defer a scandal. Acting rational in this culture means following irrational rules.

But, when Anna gives birth to Vronsky’s daughter, it’s harder to keep the story mum. Anna almost dies in the process, and on her presumed deathbed she acts as a devoted wife and begs for forgiveness. She embraces demure, until she recovers. It makes sense that Anna could only bear living up (or down, rather) to feminine ideals when she was dying. Being a puppet to a patriarchal society while alive is excruciating for her.

When her affair becomes publicly known, Anna is ostracized by her community. Vronsky begs an old friend of hers to “call on her.” The friend refuses saying, “I’d call on her if she broke the law. But, she broke the rules.”

Because Anna was audacious enough to act on her own desire, she is to be punished. Oblonsky and Vronsky can sleep with whomever they want and receive little more than a reprimand and tongue-clicking. For her marital indiscretion, Anna loses her children, her friends and she is unable to even secure a divorce. Due to her intense isolation and social shunning, Anna breaks down and eventually throws herself onto the train tracks as a train comes barreling toward her.

We, like the characters, are mostly confined within the theater for the duration of the film. Occasionally the camera pans over a real setting – in the country or at a train station – but then we are subjected back to props and shifting sets. It devastatingly returns to the façade – while the agony of the drama is so more poignant. But we are reduced to pretense – and that’s where society wanted to keep Anna. The only way she could escape it was through death.

Where ‘Ruby Sparks’ Goes Wrong

Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan in Ruby Sparks

Written by Robin Hitchcock.

I expected to either love or hate Ruby Sparks depending on where it took its premise. This premise being: sad sack writer creates a Manic Pixie Dream Girl Character named Ruby Sparks, she manifests into his real life, still influenced by what he writes about her, consequences ensue. I suspected I’d hate the movie if the creation of the woman Ruby Sparks was a happy miracle, and love it if it turned out to be a disaster, depicting the limitations of the fantasy applied to real life.

But my feelings were more complicated than I expected. I found Ruby Sparks to be an engrossing film that was very uncomfortable to watch, like a good horror movie. But I was also left unsatisfied and disappointed by the film, wanting both a better take-down of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope and a better all-around movie watching experience.

The first problem with Ruby Sparks is that it takes entirely too long to establish its premise. It’s actually a pretty simple idea for anyone hip to storytelling tropes (even if you don’t know the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl,” you probably recognize one when you see one, and writers with God-like authorial power is nothing new either). While it is realistic that it would take our characters a while to accept this premise was actually happening, it’s frustrating for the audience. We’ve already accepted it before we started to watch the movie, which makes the first forty minute or so of “Yes, REALLY” rather tedious.

I believe this first problem is a symptom of the second and most serious problem with Ruby Sparks: that the writer who creates her, Calvin, is the protagonist. Given the that film was written by a woman (Zoe Kazan, who also plays the eponymous character), co-directed by a woman (Valerie Feris, alongside Jonathan Dayton, the directing team behind Little Miss Sunshine), and centered on deconstructing an antifeminist trope, I was surprised how much sympathy I was expected to have for the man luxuriating in a hyper-real version of it.

The Sad Sack in Need of the Love of Good Woman, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl’s counterpoint, is a sexist trope in and of itself. It’s rooted in the idea that only men are burdened by the pathos of true adulthood/personhood, that the expectation to be a Great Man is a constant yoke that women will never understand. In the case of Ruby Sparks‘s Calvin (Paul Dano), he’s suffering the terrible burden of being a literary wunderkind who hasn’t been able to follow up the Great American Novel he wrote in his early twenties.

Zoe Kazan as Ruby Sparks

Calvin’s therapist gives him a writing assignment to help with his writer’s block: write about a person who could love Calvin’s shaggy dog, Scotty, despite his flaws (guess what guys: THE DOG IS A METAPHOR FOR CALVIN! Whoaaaa!). Calvin then dreams (literally) and encounter with Ruby Sparks, a pretty, friendly, charming girl who likes Scotty even though she’s unfamiliar with the works of his namesake, F. Scott Fitzgerald. After this dream, Calvin can’t stop writing about Ruby (on a typewriter! In 2012. Ugh, he’s the worst.)

Calvin at his magical typewriter.

Cultural ignorance is only one of the many infantalizing qualities given to Ruby by Calvin: she can’t drive, she doesn’t own a computer, she “isn’t very good at life sometimes” because she forgets to pay bills and the like. Then there are the deficits in Ruby’s true personhood that aren’t by design, but by omission: Calvin writes that she is a painter, but we never see her paint, and neglects to give her a regular job, or any friends or family. The only outside relationships he gives her are memories of inadequate exes: a high school teacher she had an affair with (thus failing to get her diploma), an alcoholic, another age-inappropriate partner. All to make Calvin the more comparatively worthy.

While this is all cutting writing on Kazan’s part, doing its work to highlight what makes the Manic Pixie Dream Girl a problematic trope, within the story of the film it comes out of Calvin, which makes him extremely unsympathetic to the audience. But it is clear we’re supposed to be rooting for him: as he swears off writing about Ruby and she becomes more and more human (and less and less interested in Calvin), we’re meant to worry for him. When he succumbs to the pressure to write her back into being the perfect girlfriend and it backfires, we aren’t supposed to fret for Ruby as she suffers extreme mood swings, but rather for their effect on Calvin. We don’t see how “Real Ruby”‘s friends react to these changes, only Calvin. We see how Calvin’s family responds to Ruby, but Ruby doesn’t have a family, because Calvin didn’t bother to write her one.

I kept wondering if I was reading the film wrong, until the denouement which confirmed that Calvin is meant to be the main sympathetic character. Having “released” Ruby from his magical creativity, Calvin writes a novel recounting this experience called The Girlfriend. It is met with wide acclaim, duhdoy. Then Calvin, walking Scotty, happens upon a woman in the park. A woman who looks just like Ruby. She acts a little bit more like a real person than the Ruby from Calvin’s original dream, but it’s clear Calvin still has the upper hand: she asks if they’ve met before, because he looks familiar to her, and he points her to his photo in her book jacket, as she’s reading The Girlfriend. The scene is extremely reminiscent of the end of (500) Days of Summer, where despite all the self-entitled jerkwad behavior we’ve seen the main male character go through over the course of the movie, we know he’s the one we’re supposed to be rooting for because he meets another (sorta, in this case) girl.

This meeting should have read more like the villain in a slasher flick popping out of his grave to kill again, but it really seemed intended to be a heartwarming second chance for a lovable loser. And trying to make Calvin a sympathetic character when he’s acting more like a monster for most of the film makes Ruby Sparks fall apart. It’s not like we couldn’t have had Ruby as our primary protagonist because she’s “not real”, see Pinocchio. It’s a shame that Ruby Sparks asks us to sympathize more with Calvin than the title character, it weakens the film’s mission and makes it much less enjoyable to watch.

2013 Golden Globe Nominees

Here’s the list for the main categories. If we’ve talked about them on Bitch Flicks, those pieces are hyperlinked.

Movies

Best Picture, Drama
“Argo”
“Django Unchained”
“Life of Pi”
“Lincoln”
“Zero Dark Thirty”

Best Picture, Musical or Comedy
“The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”
“Les Misérables”
“Moonrise Kindgom”
“Salmon Fishing in the Yemen”
“Silver Linings Playbook”

Best Director
Ben Affleck, “Argo”
Kathryn Bigelow, “Zero Dark Thirty”
Ang Lee, “Life of Pi”
Steven Spielberg, “Lincoln”
Quentin Tarantino, “Django Unchained”

Best Actress, Drama
Jessica Chastain, “Zero Dark Thirty”
Marion Cotillard, “Rust and Bone”
Helen Mirren, “Hitchcock”
Naomi Watts, “The Impossible”
Rachel Weisz, “The Deep Blue Sea”

Best Actor, Drama
Daniel Day-Lewis, “Lincoln”
Richard Gere, “Arbitrage”
John Hawkes, “The Sessions”
Joaquin Phoenix, “The Master”
Denzel Washington, “Flight”

Best Actor, Musical or Comedy
Jack Black, “Bernie”
Bradley Cooper, “Silver Linings Playbook”
Hugh Jackman, “Les Misérables”
Ewan McGregor, “Salmon Fishing in the Yemen”
Bill Murray, “Hyde Park on Hudson”

Best Actress, Musical or Comedy
Emily Blunt, “Salmon Fishing in the Yemen”
Judi Dench, “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”
Jennifer Lawrence, “Silver Linings Playbook”
Maggie Smith, “Quartet”
Meryl Streep, “Hope Springs”

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams, “The Master”
Sally Field, “Lincoln”
Anne Hathaway, “Les Misérables”
Helen Hunt, “The Sessions”
Nicole Kidman, “The Paperboy”

Best Supporting Actor
Alan Arkin, “Argo”
Leonardo DiCaprio, “Django Unchained”
Philip Seymour Hoffman, “The Master”
Tommy Lee Jones, “Lincoln”
Christoph Waltz, “Django Unchained”

Best Screenplay
Mark Boal, “Zero Dark Thirty”
Tony Kushner, “Lincoln”
David O. Russell, “Silver Linings Playbook”
Quentin Tarantino, “Django Unchained”
Chris Terrio, “Argo”

Best Original Score
Dario Marianelli, “Anna Karenina”
Alexandre Desplat, “Argo”
Tom Tykwer, Johnny Klimet & Reinhold Heil, “Cloud Atlas”
Michael Danna, “Life of Pi”
John Williams, “Lincoln”

Best Original Song
“For You” from “Act of Valor”
“Not Running Anymore” from “Stand Up Guys”
“Safe and Sound” from “The Hunger Games”
“Suddenly” from “Les Misérables”
“Skyfall” from “Skyfall”

Best Foreign Language Film
“Amour”
“A Royal Affair”
“The Intouchables”
“Kon-Tiki”
“Rust and Bone”

Best Animated Feature
“Rise of the Guardians”
“Brave”
“Frankenweenie”
“Hotel Transylvania”
“Wreck-It Ralph”

Cecil B. DeMille Award
Jodie Foster

Television

Best Television, Comedy or Musical
“The Big Bang Theory”
“Episodes”
“Girls”
“Modern Family”
“Smash”

Best Television, Drama
“Breaking Bad”
“Boardwalk Empire”
“Downton Abbey”
“Homeland”
“The Newsroom”

Best Miniseries or Television Movie
“Game Change”
“The Girl”
“Hatfields & McCoys”
“The Hour”
“Political Animals”

Best Actress, Television Drama
Connie Britton, “Nashville”
Glenn Close, “Damages”
Claire Danes, “Homeland”
Michelle Dockery, “Downton Abbey”
Julianna Margulies, “The Good Wife”

Best Actor, Television Drama
Best Actor, TV Drama Steve Buscemi, “Boardwalk Empire”
Bryan Cranston, “Breaking Bad”
Jeff Daniels, “The Newsroom”
Jon Hamm, “Mad Men”
Damian Lewis, “Homeland”

Best Actress, Television Comedy Or Musical
Zooey Deschanel, “New Girl”
Lena Dunham, “Girls”
Tina Fey, “30 Rock”
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, “Veep”
Amy Poehler, “Parks And Recreation”

Best Actor, Television Comedy Or Musical
Alec Baldwin, “30 Rock”
Don Cheadle, “House of Lies”
Louis C.K., “Louie”
Matt LeBlanc, “Episodes”
Jim Parsons, “The Big Bang Theory”

Best Actress In A Miniseries or Motion Picture Made for Television
Nicole Kidman, “Hemingway and Gellhorn”
Jessica Lange, “American Horror Story: Asylum”
Sienna Miller, “The Girl”
Julianne Moore, “Game Change”
Sigourney Weaver, “Political Animals”

Best Actor in a MiniSeries or Motion Picture Made for Television
Kevin Costner, “Hatfields and McCoys”
Benedict Cumberbatch, “Sherlock”
Woody Harrelson, “Game Change”
Toby Jones, “The Girl”
Clive Owen, “Hemingway and Gellhorn”

Best Supporting Actress in a Series, MiniSeries or Motion Picture Made for Television
Hayden Panettiere, “Nashville”
Archie Panjabi, “The Good Wife”
Sarah Paulson, “Game Change”
Maggie Smith, “Downton Abbey”
Sofia Vergara, “Modern Family”

Best Supporting Actor in a Series, Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television
Max Greenfield, “New Girl”
Ed Harris, “Game Change”
Danny Huston, “Magic City”
Mandy Patinkin, “Homeland”
Eric Stonestreet, “Modern Family”

‘Once Upon a Time,’ Women Were Friends

Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin), Ashley (Jessy Schram), and Ruby (Meghan Ory) enjoy a girls’ night out

Written by Lady T.

Once Upon a Time, last year’s big ABC hit now in its second season, is like Lost with fairy tale characters. Created by two former Lost writers, Once Upon a Time is also a show about strangers in a strange land, with only a few key characters aware of the world’s rich history. Both shows combine flashbacks and present-day stories to portray how characters have changed over time. Both shows slowly reveal bits and pieces of the mythology and backstory in a non-chronological fashion. Both shows combine fantastical situations with real-life emotions, and emphasize the importance of community.

There is one way, however, where Once Upon a Time is far superior to Lost: its portrayal of female friendships. As the show becomes more complex in its mythology and introduces more characters, we see even more positive interactions among women.

One of the first relationships we’re introduced to is the strange friendship between Emma Swan (Jennifer Morrison) and Mary Margaret Blanchard (Ginnifer Goodwin). Their friendship is a little unusual because Mary Margaret is, in fact, Snow White with an altered memory, and Emma’s mother. (Mary Margaret/Snow has been frozen in time while Emma has not, which explains why the mother and daughter are the same age.) They strike up a friendship when Emma moves to the town of Storybrooke at the request of her biological son, Henry. Neither woman believes Henry’s fantastical tales about every person in Storybrooke being a fairy tale character, but they quickly grow to like each other. Mary Margaret provides Emma with a home when she needs it, they discuss their failed relationships with men, and when the town turns against Mary Margaret when she is accused of murder, Emma alone continues to defend her.

Now that the spell on Storybrooke has been broken, Emma and Snow are aware of each other’s identities. Snow’s maternal instincts have kicked in, and she is much more protective of Emma, but neither woman has forgotten their previous bond. Their mother-daughter relationship is now on even firmer ground because of the friendship they established before the spell was broken, and watching them rediscover each other has been a heartwarming joy to watch.

Mother and daughter, together again (Jennifer Morrison and Goodwin)

Still, it’s no surprise that Snow White is able to have a good relationship with her daughter, because she has a history of valuing her friendships with women. Several flashbacks on Once Upon a Time have shown that Snow has a casual but supportive friendship with Cinderella (Jessy Schram), and a deep and fulfilling friendship with Red Riding Hood (Meghan Ory). When Once Upon a Time throws a twist in the traditional fairy tale and reveals that Red and the Big Bad Wolf are, in fact, the same person, Snow supports her friend through her changes and doesn’t judge her for her wolf side. Red, for her part, helps Snow in her quest to rescue Prince Charming. (Another cool thing about Once Upon a Time? The women rescue the men just as often as the men rescue the women.)

Red, for her part, is also loyal to Cinderella’s Storybrooke counterpart, Ashley (see what they did there, with the naming?) While Snow and Emma are briefly trapped in the enchanted forest, Red quickly bonds with Belle (Emilie de Ravin), helping her ease the transition into a more steady, normal life. Red may be separated from her bestie, but she still makes new friends.

BFFs for life (Goodwin and Ory)

Perhaps the best example of the complex female relationships on the show can be found in the first part of this sophomore season, where four women traveled through the forest on a quest together. Two new characters, Princess Aurora (Sarah Bolger) and Mulan (Jamie Chung). The women, at first, are rivals who are both in love with Prince Philip, but after a wraith sucks out his soul, they quickly bond in a shared goal to punish the people who let the wraith into their world – Snow and Emma.

The outlook is bleak for this new friendship, as Mulan and Aurora first see Snow and Emma as enemies, but this changes very quickly. Aurora soon understands that Snow is not at fault for what happened to her beloved Philip, and the women find common ground, as they have both been victims of the terrible Sleeping Curse. The mother-daughter team and Aurora/Mulan trek across the forest, with different goals that sometimes clash with each other – Snow and Emma want to return to Storybrooke, and Mulan wants to keep Aurora safe – but in the end, they all succeed by working together.

Forget Philip – I ship THIS (Sarah Bolger and Jamie Chung)

The quest across the forest was satisfying to me on so many different levels. I loved seeing four women travel together as a group. I loved that Aurora and Mulan’s love for the same man bonded them together instead of tearing them apart (though, to be honest, I’d rather see the two women as a couple at this point). I loved that each woman had different ways of contributing to the mission – Snow and Mulan through fighting skills and physical dexterity, Emma through strategizing and working with the enemy (the disturbingly sexy Captain Hook), and Aurora through communication in the netherworld. I loved that their conflicts were organic to the characters and situations, not stereotypical catfights among competitive women.

Most of all, I loved that Once Upon a Time took characters from different fairy tales and classic stories, characters who have traditionally lived in male-centric stories with female villains, and made them discover complex and varied female bonds. They find strength in themselves and with each other.

The trek across the forest is now over, and I’m happy to see Snow/Emma reunited with their family, but I hope this isn’t the end of female bonding in Once Upon a Time. I hope and trust that the writers are only going to show more examples of women interacting positively with other women.


Princesses, doin’ it for themselves…

Lady T is a writer with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

‘Once Upon a Time,’ Women Were Friends

Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin), Ashley (Jessy Schram), and Ruby (Meghan Ory) enjoy a girls’ night out

Written by Lady T.

Mother and daughter, together again (Jennifer Morrison and Goodwin)

BFFs for life (Goodwin and Ory)

Forget Philip – I ship THIS (Sarah Bolger and Jamie Chung)


Princesses, doin’ it for themselves…

Lady T is a writer and aspiring comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

On Sex, Disability, and Helen Hunt in ‘The Sessions’

Movie poster for The Sessions

Written by Stephanie Rogers.

I hadn’t heard of Mark O’Brien before I saw The Sessions. I only knew that the film starred John Hawkes (of Deadwood, Winter’s Bone, and Martha Marcy May Marlene fame) and Helen Hunt, who I’ve always admired because of her role as the rebellious, dance-obsessed Lynne Stone in the 1985 film Girls Just Want to Have Fun. I was seven years old when I saw that shit, and I’d now consider it one of my first introductions to (somewhat problematic) pop culture feminism. I refuse to let go of it. Also, Helen Hunt was in Twister, a movie about storm chasers who say stuff like, “It’s coming! It’s headed right for us!” and “Debris! We got debris!” Oh yeah, and she won that Best Actress Oscar for As Good As It Gets in 1997.

What I’m trying to say is: Helen Hunt is awesome.

Her latest Sundance Film Festival hit is based on an essay Mark O’Brien wrote for The Sun called, “On Seeing a Sex Surrogate,” which chronicles his experience losing his virginity in his late thirties. Hunt plays Cheryl Cohen Greene, the sex surrogate, and Hawkes plays O’Brien, a man who contracted polio at the age of six and became paralyzed except for limited use of muscles in his right foot, neck, and jaw. He couldn’t spend more than a few hours outside of an iron lung (a metal chamber that forces the lungs to inhale and exhale) and, despite that fact, went on to earn a graduate degree in journalism from UC Berkeley—by traveling back and forth between the university and the iron lung at home. With the ability to move only his head, he wrote articles and poems by holding a stick in his mouth and tapping out letters on a computer.

The audience learns all this within the first ten minutes of the film, and that’s about the time I started telling myself to stop going through life like a lazy fuck.

Helen Hunt as Cheryl Cohen Greene and John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

That’s some pretty intense subject matter … not me being a lazy fuck—that’s for my therapist and me to work out SOMEDAY—but the serious exploration of a disabled man’s sexuality. While the focus remains on O’Brien throughout, The Sessions also gives us several comedic moments with other physically disabled characters as O’Brien interviews them for an article he’s writing about the sex lives of the disabled. I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to see an on-screen depiction of people with disabilities who do things like omg have sex and who also enjoy talking candidly and unapologetically about having sex. O’Brien’s reactions are hilarious; he gets fairly embarrassed and weirded out during the interviews, but the stories he hears ultimately empower him to think seriously about his own sex life, or lack thereof.

Enter the inimitable William H. Macy (yes!). He plays O’Brien’s priest, Father Brendan, who listens to O’Brien’s confessions every day while guiding him through the guilt he feels about seeking out a sex surrogate. That relationship soon evolves (once O’Brien begins spending time with the surrogate) into more of a friendship, and it’s wonderful to see those lines blurred; watching Macy go from praying with O’Brien in church for the first half of the film to showing up in sweats with a six-pack at O’Brien’s house in the later half got the whole theater cracking up. That friendship grounds the film and keeps it from veering into sentimental territory; the audience looks forward to their light-hearted conversations about some truly heavy subject matter. At the same time, their friendship adds emotional depth to the characters. We realize it isn’t just O’Brien’s physical disability that complicates his sexual exploration, but his Catholic faith as well. These two immensely likeable men clearly like each other—and their pontifications about the role of religion in their lives, and what God will and won’t forgive—keeps this from turning into yet another film about a dude just trying to get laid.

William H. Macy as Father Brendan and John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

Before seeing the movie, I hadn’t heard about sex surrogates. The real Ms. Greene (who still practices at the age of 68) describes the difference between her profession and prostitution as follows:

If you go to a prostitute, it’s like going to a restaurant. You read the menu, you choose what you want, they prepare, they hope that you love it, and hopefully you want to come back.

With a surrogate, it’s like going to cooking school. You get the ingredients, you learn to make a meal together—and then the point is to go out into the world and share that and not come back.

I love that explanation, mainly because it doesn’t denigrate prostitutes (or sex workers in general). From what I’ve read, the people who appear to take issue with the sex surrogate profession are running around like, “… but … but … PROSTITUTION WHORES SLUTS BURNING IN HELL,” and regardless of what one thinks about prostitution as a profession, I hope we can all agree that it’s a much more complicated issue than “Prostitution bad. Waiting till marriage for sex good.” (For me, personally, it boils down to the question, “What more can we do to keep sex workers safe?” But, yeah.)

Helen Hunt as Cheryl Cohen Greene in The Sessions

Most reviews I’ve read of The Sessions focus on Hawkes’ ridiculously good performance as O’Brien—after all, his acting essentially comes from nothing more than his voice and facial expressions. Oscar nomination? Probably. But I’d like to focus on the women in the film, particularly Hunt’s portrayal of Cheryl Cohen Greene.

Helen Hunt ultimately brought The Sessions to life for me. She treats O’Brien with such care, both emotionally and physically, while always maintaining a directness with him that undercuts any potential melodrama. One of my favorite scenes in the film happens right after O’Brien’s first, very brief moment of vaginal penetration. Afterward, he asks, “Did you come, too?” to which she responds, “No, Mark, I didn’t.” I fell in love with the film right then; the innocence of his question and the honesty of her response created more intimacy than most faux-passionate, desperation-filled Hollywood sex scenes could ever hope for.

And that’s the thing about Hunt’s performance. Hawkes, while indisputably great, wouldn’t be half as good in this role if he weren’t playing opposite Helen Hunt. She portrays Greene as confident and self-assured, with no lacy-underweared attempts at sexiness, and with only a tinge of sweetness. This isn’t a film about seduction. It’s mechanical and complicated and wonderful—at one point he has to stop performing cunnilingus because he can’t breathe; at another, she goes to the bathroom in front of him with the door open. Though she forges a strong bond with O’Brien emotionally, the goal always lingers: to help him lose his virginity and help him discover new ways to use and appreciate the human body, his own especially. Hunt says as much in an interview with the L.A. Times:

Maybe it all gets blurry near the end for a second … But I think that’s life—you can have some errant arrow prick your heart, but these two characters have an intention to keep to their mandate that this all is supposed to serve him. And both of them stick to that, painful as it is.

John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien and Moon Bloodgood as Vera in The Sessions

I’d like to say that all the women in the film were as wonderfully fleshed out and complex as Hunt’s character, but that isn’t true. O’Brien works with three women caretakers throughout, the first (and least conventionally attractive of which) he fires because she just kind of huffs around acting like an asshole. The second is a beautiful woman whose name I can’t remember, and her character development consists mainly of O’Brien gazing longingly over dreamy sequences of her hair blowing in the breeze and shit. Of course he proposes to her (why not!), at which point she quits … but then randomly shows up again later for an impromptu picnic in the park. Okay. The third woman caretaker, well, I kind of loved her. Vera (played by Moon Bloodgood) eases his anxiety more than anything, often making funny quips about sex and the not-a-big-dealness of it as she transports him to and from his sessions with Greene. That affords her an authentic intimacy that the other women characters—other than Greene, of course—don’t get to have. While the previous caretakers exist as shallow plot points to move O’Brien’s story forward, Vera shares a true friendship with him; in many ways, their relationship mirrors the directness and openness of his relationship with Greene.

John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

For all the bodies on display and the frank sexual discussions, The Sessions deals mostly with trust—how to trust that another person can accept our flaws and cracks and insecurities without judgment; that we’re loveable; that it’s okay to need things from people, and to ask for them. In the end, the graphic sex scenes take a back seat to the emotional connections the characters develop with one another. It’s the expressions on the actors’ faces that tell us everything we need to know.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Amber‘s Picks:

Hollywood’s Year of Heroine Worship by A.O. Scott via The New York Times

Oscars and casting: Hollywood insiders discuss diversity by Solvej Schou via Entertainment Weekly

30 Lessons We Learned From Amy Poehler in 2012 by Krutika Mallikarjuna via Buzzfeed

Megan‘s Picks:

7 Ways Women and Girls are Sexualized, Stereotyped and Underrepresented On Screen by Dana Liebelson and Asawin Suebsaeng via Mother Jones

“There Is an Audience for Our Films”: Four African-American Female Filmmakers Speak Out by Lorenza Munoz via The Daily Beast

Surprise! Attempted Rape Scene in Episode of ‘The Walking Dead’ by Tizzy Giordano via Fem2pt0

TedX Women Talk about Online Harassment and Cyber Mobs by Anita Sarkeesian via Feminist Frequency

Is Historical Accuracy a Good Defense of Patriarchal Societies in Fantasy Fiction? by Dan Wohl via The Mary Sue

Google Grants $1.2M to Help Analyze Female Roles in TV, Film by Angela Watercutter via Wired

Hollywood’s Power 100 Mingle at THR’s Women in Entertainment Breakfast by Sophie A. Schillaci via The Hollywood Reporter

The Divine, Difficult Women of ‘Treme’ and David Simon’s Female Characters by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Dreamworks Animation Is Proud of Having an 85% Female Group of Producers by Susana Polo via The Mary Sue

Sexist Quote of the Day by Bret Easton Ellis Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

What have you read (or written) this week that you’d like to share?

Weekly Feminist Film Question: Who Are Your Favorite TV Moms?

No other type of character seems to tug at our nostalgic heartstrings like TV moms. So we asked you to tell us: who are your favorite moms on television? While the answers crossed boundaries of socio-economic status, race and TV genre, the female characters named embody many similar traits — warm, intelligent, loving, educated, stern, classy, hard-working, sarcastic, ambitious, tough, funny. Our faves remind us of our own moms or for some of us, the moms we wish we had.

Oh and spoiler alert! Clair Huxtable tops almost everyone’s list as favorite TV mom. But you probably already knew that…she is pretty fabulous after all!

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Morticia Addams (Carolyn Jones) — The Addams Family

Dr. Miranda Bailey (Chandra Wilson) — Grey’s Anatomy

Vivian Banks (Janet Hubert-Whitten) — The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

Lucille Bluth (Jessica Walter) — Arrested Development

Jamie Buchman (Helen Hunt) — Mad About You

Roseanne Conner (Roseanne Barr) — Roseanne

Dr. Beverly Crusher (Gates McFadden) — Star Trek: The Next Generation

Florida Evans (Esther Rolle) — Good Times

Ruth Fisher (Frances Conroy) — Six Feet Under

Lorelai Gilmore (Lauren Graham) — Gilmore Girls

Ellen Harvelle (Samantha Ferris) — Supernatural

Clair Huxtable, Esq. (Phylicia Rashad) — The Cosby Show

Elyse Keaton (Meredith Baxter-Birney) — Family Ties

Grace Kelly (Brett Butler) — Grace Under Fire

Kate McArdle (Susan Saint James) and Allie Lowell (Jane Curtin) — Kate and Allie

Marge Simpson (Julie Kavner) — The Simpsons

Dr. Lilith Sternin (Bebe Neuwirth) — Cheers, Frasier

Hilda Suarez (Ana Ortiz) — Ugly Betty

Joyce Summers (Kristine Sutherland) — Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Tami Taylor (Connie Britton) — Friday Night Lights

Callie Torres (Sara Ramirez) — Grey’s Anatomy

Skyler White (Anna Gunn) — Breaking Bad

Did your fave TV moms make the list? Let us know in the comments!

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Each week we tweet a new question and then post your answers on our site by the weekend! To participate, just follow us on Twitter at @BitchFlicks and use the Twitter hashtag ‪#feministfilm.

In Praise of Sally Field as Mary Todd Lincoln

When Mary Todd Lincoln, played by Sally Field, first appears in Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln, I got nervous. With a weary voice and a far-off manner, she analyzes one of Mr. Lincoln’s dreams as a portent of doom. Looks like we’re getting the “batshit crazy” take on Mary Lincoln, I thought.

Sally Field as Mary Todd Lincoln in Lincoln

I was particularly upset by this because the characterization of Mary is especially crucial to the success of the film from a feminist perspective, because it is otherwise almost entirely focused on men (although Gloria Reuben is great in her small role and S. Epatha Merkerson brings as much as she can to her even smaller one).

But as the film progresses, it becomes clear that just as it does with her husband Abraham, Lincoln is merely incorporating the legend of Mary Todd—stated eloquently by the character herself as “all anyone will remember of me is that I was crazy and that I ruined your happiness”—into a much more nuanced depiction of a complex character.

Sally Field as Mary Todd Lincoln in Lincoln

I have to admit, my initial reaction to the Mary in Lincoln was not helped by my preconceived opinion on the casting of Sally Field. My issue was not the age difference (Field is 10 years Day-Lewis’ senior, the reverse of the real-life age difference between the Lincolns) that required Ms. Field to fight to keep her role. I was rather concerned with the contrast in acting style between Field and Day-Lewis. I recalled the film version of A Streetcar Named Desire, where Marlon Brando’s then-revolutionary method realism left Vivian Leigh’s remarkable (and Oscar-winning) yet much more theatrical performance as Blanche DuBois in Stanley’s dust.

In an interview with Sharon Knolle, Sally Field insists:

“Listen: People don’t know what method is. I am method! I studied at the Actors’ Studio. I studied with Lee Strasberg. That’s where the term “method” came from. Daniel and I work exactly the same way. I always stay in character. Any good actor does that.”

Ms. Field obviously knows her own technique better than I do, but I doubt I am alone as a moviegoer in thinking of her as an actress whose screen presence is largely defined by her personal charm and her ability to turn the melodrama up to eleven rather than an ability to disappear into a character.

But Field’s performance style actually fits in well among a universally strong but stylistically-varied ensemble. While Tommy Lee Jones is uncharacteristically reserved even playing the bombastic abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens, and the inimitably restrained David Strathairn does fantastic work as Secretary of State William Seward [Tangent: my greatest beef with this film is that Seward is largely absent from the third act—just when his story gets really good!—because it diminishes Strathairn’s awards chances, and I think he’s still owed statues from Good Night and Good Luck]; there’s also plenty of delightful scenery chewing among the supporting cast, from Lee Pace as pro-slavery Democrat Fernando Wood, who ought to have a mustache just for twirling at the appropriate beats in his racist speeches on the Congressional floor, to James Spader’s cartoonishly uncouth political trickster.

Although Field plays most of her scenes against Day-Lewis, they play off each other surprisingly well. Lincoln as a whole walks a fine line between humanizing and further mythologizing one of the greatest figures in American history. Despite Day-Lewis’s historically-accurate adoption of a slouched posture and gentle high-pitched speaking voice, the film unquestionably presents Lincoln as the Great Man of the Lincoln Legend. But these indulgences are brilliantly counterbalanced by having the character aware of his place in history and the inevitable myth-making about him.

Fittingly, this vulnerability is no more apparent than when he is with his wife. Playing off Field, Day-Lewis is perhaps at his most actorly, but the effect is subtly demonstrating to the audience that Abraham is the one acting as the character of President Lincoln when he is politicking and speechmaking. Field’s work in Lincoln makes the central performance and consequently the film itself better, which is exactly what a supporting actor should do. My misgivings about her casting could not have been more wrong.

And thankfully, neither could my first impression of the film’s overall take on the character. While Lincoln‘s Mary is indeed emotionally erratic, occasionally difficult, and haunted by grief, the film doesn’t damn her the way some historical accounts have by making these her only characteristics. She’s treated as an intellectual equal by her husband, we see her watch the congressional debates on the 13th Amendment from the balcony with keen interest, and in Field’s best scene, she epically takes down Thaddeus Stevens with a smile while playing the role of First-Lady-as-Gracious-Hostess.

Field’s best scene in Lincoln

Tony Kushner’s script and Sally Field’s game performance evade the two traps of fictional portrayals of Mary Lincoln: she’s neither the crazy shrew undermining her great husband nor the equally sexist and hoary cliche of the Great Woman Behind a Great Man. Instead, Sally Field’s Mary Todd Lincoln is one of the many compelling elements that make up Spielberg’s excellent Lincoln.