Author: Bitch Flicks

Foreign Film Week: ‘War Witch’: Finally, a Movie About Africa Without the Cute White Movie Star

Guest post written by Atima Omara-Alwala.
So if something happens somewhere in Africa, and a white person is not there, do people hear it? well, according to Hollywood at least, no. There is an obsessive need in Western films to legitimize the African story and life through the existence of a major white character in the movie like The Last King of Scotland with James McAvoy or Blood Diamond with Leonardo DiCaprio, or even the The Constant Gardener with Rachel Weisz and Ralph Fiennes. These movies attempt to chronicle the horror of civil war or corruption that leads to major conflict in African nations. As the daughter of African immigrants who both lived their lives in a war torn country, I am grateful these stories are even being told but it’s a shame that the existence of attractive white movie stars is necessary to tell the story. Even more the reason, War Witch pleasantly surprised me. War Witch is a story from the perspective of one young African girl’s journey to reclaim her life in the face of war and sexual assault.
Primarily filmed in the Democratic Republic of Congo, War Witch is a 2012 Canadian drama film written and directed by Kim Nguyen. According to Canadian news The Globe & the Mail, Nguyen himself part Vietnamese and French was inspired by a Burmese story he read about child soldiers. Nguyen’s inspiration became War Witch. The story of a 12 year old Komona (Rachel Mwanza) who lives in a rural village in Africa when civil war in her country interrupts her childhood. Rebel forces invade her village, in a very painful scene, Komona’s induction into warfare is choosing between shooting her own parents (by the orders of the rebel commander) or watching them die a painful death at the hands of a machete. The scene is already heart wrenching but it becomes even more so when her parents say to her soothingly, “it’s okay” if she shoots them. After she kills them, she is taken from the only home she’s ever known to become one of rebel forces many child soldiers. 
The film walks you through what life is life as a child soldier with rebel forces: waging guerilla warfare at any given moment, sleeping in the woods, eating rations. Komona adjusts to her new existence with a depressed and stunned silence. A fellow child soldier and albino boy named Magicien (Serge Kanyinda) befriends her and occasionally sneaks her food through their journey.
Aided by “magic milk” or a hallucinogen from a tree sap, that Magician finds for his fellow child soldiers to drink. Komona begins to see her parents and the ghosts of others killed by rebel forces who tell her how to avoid surprise attacks. She becomes so good at predicting surprise attacks she becomes the prized “war witch” to the rebel forces and particularly the “Great Tiger” the leader of the rebel forces played by (Mizinga Mwinga). In an interesting twist, on an attack gone awry one day, Magician convinces Komona to leave the rebel forces with him, confessing his love for her and desire to marry her.

What I love is despite what life has thrown at her Komona is a determined girl. While clearly drawn to Magicien, she refuses to marry him unless he can find a white rooster, which in her culture her father said, “when a man can find a white rooster, he can marry you”. Probably between her desperation to cling to family traditions, and to set some standards for herself she sends Magicien on what is a hilarious rooster chase (and a much needed lull from the horrors of war). Even though she finally consents, to marrying him without the white rooster (as he has become family to her while on the run), Magicien remains determined to find a white rooster, to prove he is worthy of her, which he does.

 Afterwards, Komona and Magicien marry and they arrive at Magicien’s Uncle’s home. Magicien’s Uncle is called “Boucher” which is French for “butcher”. Boucher (Ralph Prosper) cuts meat for a living. It is learned the Boucher watched his entire family being butchered by a machete. Boucher’s trauma from watching his family cut to pieces is so strong he needs an empty pail next to him while he cuts animal meat, so he can vomit in pail due to the memories. This shared trauma bonds him and Magicien and Komona together like a family. And for a time, Komona is happy.

An abrupt turn of tragic events places Komona back in the hands of rebel forces and this time becomes the sex slave of the rebel commander. Komona is barely able to take it upon learning she’s pregnant as a result of continuous rape and exacts an excruciating painful revenge on her assaulter.
The rest of the movie focuses on her life post her second escape from the rebel forces. She returns to stay with Magicien’s Uncle, Boucher. Like Boucher she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. But they live in a world where rape is not even discussed (let along counseling services provided), and post-traumatic stress disorder is even less understood, Komona wrestles emotionally for peace. She sees a priestess to atone for her murders of countless people including her parents. The ghosts of her parents still haunt her dreams and she has regular nightmares of being attacked. And on top of everything else, she grapples with the expected anger and horror of being pregnant by her rapist. This is a lot to deal with for a woman of any age let along a young girl like Komona.

Why do I love this movie? It is a Western film of a civil war in an African nation told through the eyes of not just the Africans living through it, but through an African girl living the trauma and grappling with resolution for herself. Director Kim Nguyen came up against challenges in the film industry because of this take. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Nguyen said: “I had brutal answers that would tell me a Black main actor doesn’t sell.” This makes it even more outstanding that War Witch not only swept, Jutra, the Quebec film awards but was a contender for the Golden Bear (equivalent of Best Film) at the 62nd Berlin International Film Festival in February 2012. For her work, Rachel Mwanza won the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the Berlin festival and Best Actress at the 2012 Tribeca Film Festival. War Witch also received the much coveted Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film of 2012.
It is amazing that for such an award-winning film, War Witch is not legitimized through the presence of a white European spectator (like in all the previously aforementioned Western films) who observes the tragedy and participates in what can only be called self-flagellation about why they can’t be a better “Great White Hope” for the poor Africans.
Another reason I love this movie? The men in Komona’s life do no legitimize her either. It is Komona’s journey alone, on her own defined terms, to redefine her life when for so long it was defined by her captors and everyone around her. It is also her journey to womanhood. It is interesting how Komona reaches some peace finally at the end of the movie, but the viewer is secure in knowing that it is her resolution and no one else’s.

———-
Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on 8 federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment & leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.

Foreign Film Week: Realistic Depictions of Women and Female Friendship in ‘Muriel’s Wedding’

Guest post written by Libby White.
The first time I saw Muriel’s Wedding, I went in expecting a Cinderella-esque romantic comedy about an awkward girl who transforms her life into one filled with success and romance. I was definitely ready to indulge in your standard ‘feel-good chick-flick.’ Two hours later, as I sat surrounded by a pile of tissues, having cried myself into a near comatose state, I realized that Muriel’s Wedding has one of the most deceptive posters ever.
The film starts at a wedding in the small Australian town of Porpoise Spit, where we are introduced to the film’s titular character, Muriel Heslop. The wedding day is filled with disasters for Muriel: She catches the bridal bouquet and is forced to give it to another woman; she discovers the groom and the bride’s best friend fooling around; and is accused of having stolen from a local store.
As Muriel is carted home by the police, we see a glimpse of her highly dysfunctional family life. Ruled over by their tyrannical politician father, the Heslop children are a collection of deadbeats and slackers. Muriel herself hasn’t worked in over two years, and continues to live out of her childhood bedroom. Their mother, Betty Heslop, is little more than a slave to the family’s whims, and has visibly checked out from her surroundings. Attempts to communicate with her take several tries, and her brief moments of pleasure are quickly squashed by her husband.
It soon becomes apparent that Muriel’s thieving is a common occurrence, as her father handles the police with relative ease, and is able to use his power to keep them from pressing charges. Muriel waits calmly in her room as he dances the familiar steps with the officers, only to be verbally attacked in front of her father’s business guests and family later that evening. Bill Heslop seems to have no trouble belittling his family publicly, calling each of them “useless” repeatedly before being interrupted by a “surprise” visit from his obvious mistress, (an event which occurs with alarming frequency.) The night only gets worse from there, as Muriel’s so called “friends” accidentally let slip that they were going on holiday without her. The situation snowballs, leading the four women to kick Muriel out of their group.
Under the guise of travelling for a job, Muriel follows the women to an island resort, still believing that she can convince them to take her back. There, Muriel runs into an old high school classmate, Rhonda. The two women spend the rest of the vacation together, and instantly become best friends. They dance to ABBA together, they move to Sydney together, and generally bring out the best in one another. Rhonda’s support and independence also help Muriel to break out of her shell and begin living life the way she has always dreamt it. Eventually, Muriel finds herself a job at a local video store, and is asked out by a shy customer. The two date briefly, and share one of the movie’s most unforgettable and hilarious scenes when they attempt to be intimate.
Unfortunately, the good times don’t last, and Muriel is dealt a series of harsh blows by reality. With Rhonda becoming paralyzed from a spinal tumor, and Muriel’s lies becoming exposed; Muriel’s dream life begins to unravel. In a desperate attempt to break her father’s hold on her and live her dream, Muriel agrees to marry an attractive South African athlete. The man, David Van Arkle, let’s his displeasure about the arrangement be well-known, but needs to marry in order to stay in the country. When their wedding day rolls around, David looks as if he’s going to be sick. Muriel is completely oblivious however, basking in the attention of the media and her former friends. So oblivious in fact, that Muriel completely leaves out her mother from the event. In a tear-inducing scene, Betty rushes to the wedding, glowing with pride, only to have Muriel walk right past her without noticing. Still holding her daughter’s wedding gift in hand, Betty can’t help but cry as the guests dissipate.
When Muriel arrives at her new home with her husband, the fantasy of the day fades, and David accuses her of being nothing more than a gold digger. He divides their lives in half, and sends Muriel to her room alone. Soon after, Muriel receives a call from her sister, informing her that their mother has died.
Rushing home for the funeral, the house is just as Muriel left it. Her siblings laze about the living room; their father calculating the effect of Betty’s death on his political campaign. One sister is truly upset though, and confides in Muriel that their mother died of an overdose of sleeping pills. Their father, fearing his image, hid all evidence of her suicide. It is then that Muriel discovers what occurred on her wedding day, and realizes how her lies had helped to destroy her mother.
David appears at the funeral, sympathetic to his wife’s pain. The two return home together and make love, only to have Muriel ask for a divorce in the morning. She admits that her life has become a lie, and that she never felt anything for David. He agrees, and the two part ways.
In the last scene of the film, Muriel returns to Porpoise Spit, where Rhonda has had to return to her mother’s care. Forced to endure the pity of her former enemies, Muriel’s apology is readily accepted, and the two escape back to Sydney together.
And though I may have gone in expecting Hollywood’s attempt at pigeon-holing Muriel’s Wedding as a rom-com, I still came out loving this film. It takes a brutally honest look at the ripple effect of emotional abuse throughout a family, and delivers all too real characters who you can’t help but become emotionally invested in. The women of the film in particular are wonderfully refreshing, led by the endearing Toni Collette. Her portrayal of Muriel is definitely an unforgettable one. Whether it be her natural, un- glamourized looks and figure, or her very human flaws, the character of Muriel feels intensely genuine. While Hollywood films often use clumsiness to disguise the unachievable-ness of its movie’s heroines, Muriel’s Wedding instead prefers to tell it like it is. Everyone’s choices lead to consequences, and the end of the film does not mean the end to their problems.
The Muriel we are presented with in the beginning of the film; a girl who is desperate for attention, mildly delusional, and devoid of self-respect; is almost meant to be underestimated. We are shown all her worst qualities in a matter of minutes, and lead to pity her circumstances. As the movie progresses and Muriel grows, she becomes more outgoing and self-sufficient, but her lies remain. When her father threatens her new lifestyle, Muriel initially responds by entreating further into her fantasies, only to have them come crashing down upon her. Once she confesses to David and finally begins to admit the truth, we come to realize just how much Muriel has grown. Now confident and self-aware, she is able to stand up to her father’s demands and fearlessly return to her old life.
The friendship between Muriel and Rhonda is one filled with ups and downs, but is still the most genuine relationship in the film. While Rhonda becomes repeatedly frustrated with Muriel’s lies, the two are ultimately accepting of one another, and deeply loyal. Rhonda herself is a free spirit who speaks her mind and does as she pleases. She gleefully stands up to Muriel’s friends, and later takes home two men at once. Even when she receives her diagnosis, Rhonda remains determined to be independent. While she is eventually forced back into her mother’s home, she doesn’t stay long; returning to Sydney with Muriel in a matter of weeks. Rhonda’s fearless embrace of her life and choices, compared with Muriel’s sweetness and hope, make the two a perfectly balanced pair.
However, the women Muriel call her friends are the more stereotypical “mean girls.” They are portrayed as vapid, conniving, promiscuous, and cruel. Even after repeated physical and verbal attacks, Muriel invites them to be bridesmaids at her wedding, if only to show off her success at finding a famous and handsome husband. But even by the film’s end, their stunted growth remains, leaving them as flattened villains.
Muriel’s mother, Betty, is the true reason that this film breaks my heart. Having witnessed a near identical situation in my grandmother’s life, the inclusion of her storyline is especially meaningful. At no point does the director show her any kindness; from her husband’s blatant affair, her children’s indolence, being accused of shoplifting, to Muriel’s own snubbing of her; Betty endured a terrible existence. Spoiled by the happy endings of American cinema, I had internally begged for a magical fix to her suffering; some kind of ‘hallelujah’ moment where we were assured everything would be alright.
When Betty eventually suffers an emotional break down and commits suicide, it is only Muriel and her sister who show any concern whatsoever. The other siblings are completely unaffected; the youngest girl gossiping on the phone with her friends the morning after her mother’s death. Bill Heslop, who selfishly tries to cover up his wife’s cause of death and his part in causing it, uses the sympathy of the press to further his career.
Betty’s story is one that never allows the viewer any release. Instead, it speaks of a harsh reality where there is no sudden intervention of fate, moments of enlightenment, or redeemable villains. We never get to see Bill Heslop punished for his cruelty, or Betty rewarded for her love for her children. And it is because of such that I think Betty Heslop is a fantastic female character. While she may not be the empowered woman who takes back her life from an abusive husband, she is a real woman, with real emotions, and a painfully real situation.
In the end, whether you’re interested in a good laugh, cry, or simply want to watch wonderful film, I highly recommend Muriel’s Wedding to you. Its realistic portrayal of women and their emotional experiences make it a gem in anyone’s collection.
———- 
Libby White is a self-proclaimed cinephile and Volunteer Firefighter who currently works as an Armed Guard for Nissan’s headquarters in Tennessee.

Foreign Film Week: BFI London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival

The 27th BFI London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival: 14 – 24 March 2013
From the press release:

The 27th BFI London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival (LLGFF) is back at BFI Southbank London with a festival of 11 days and a new look programme that’s packed full of films, special guests, events, workshops, and music. 

[…] 

There are over 100 titles in the festival offering a dizzying variety of films reflecting the LGBT community around the world.

Here are a sampling of films playing.

Facing Mirrors
Aynehaye Rooberoo
Director: Negar Azarbayjani
Producer: Fereshteh Taerpoor
Screenwriter: Negar Azarbayjani, Fereshteh Taerpoor
With Shayesteh Irani, Ghazal Shakeri
Iran-Germany 2011
102 min
Sales: The Film Collaborative
Rana, a conservative woman with traditional values, is secretly working as a taxi driver (driving is taboo for women of her class) in Tehran to support her family while her husband is in a debtors’ prison. Rebel with a cause, wealthy Edi/Adineh, is desperately trying to get a passport in order to return to Germany to have gender reassignment surgery whilst avoiding an angry father wanting to marry his daughter off as soon as possible. The State may sanction gender reassignment in Iran but that’s not to say it’s accepted in general society. As Edi’s father says, ‘I wish she was blind, dead, handicapped but not disgraced.’ Fate brings Rana and Edi together and an unlikely friendship develops, transcending social class and ethical differences. Facing Mirrors is a bold, exciting, seat-of-the-pants ride through contemporary Iran.

Mosquita y Mari (2012)

Mosquita y Mari

Director-Screenwriter: Aurora Guerrero
Producer: Chad Burris
With Fenessa Pineda, Venecia Troncoso, Laura Patalano
USA 2012
85 min
Sales: The Film Collaborative
Mosquita y Mari is a gorgeously realised and tender coming-of-age story set in the Chicana neighbourhood of Huntington Park, Los Angeles. Fifteen-year-old Yolanda is a sweet-natured only child who gains straight As and stays out of trouble until she has her head turned by Mari – a tough, cool girl who moves in across the road. Mari is the eldest daughter in a single parent, undocumented family struggling to make ends meet. She is at first uninterested in being friends with her neighbour, but an incident at school pushes the pair increasingly together – sharing homework, music and secret spaces and an intense connection develops between the two girls. Guerrero’s debut feature is assured and subtle, confidently creating a teenage world of awkward affection, lingering gazes and new desires.
Je, tu, il, elle
Director-Producer: Chantal Akerman
Screenwriter: Chantal Akerman, Eric De Kuyper, Paul Paquay
With Chantal Akerman, Niels Arestrup, Claire Wauthion
France-Belgium 1976
85 min
Akerman’s first feature includes one of the earliest depictions of lesbian sex in cinema but it has rarely been seen at queer film festivals. We are excited to be screening this still startling and now deeply influential work as part of our strand considering Akerman’s impact on queer cinema. The film focuses on a woman who remains in her empty room for over a month narrating her minimal actions via a disjointed voiceover. Eventually she travels with a trucker who tells her about his life and arrives at the home of a woman who tries to send her away but then feeds her before they make love.

Lesbiana: A Parallel Revolution (2012)

Lesbiana: A Parallel Revolution

Lesbiana: Une révolution parallèle
Director-Screenwriter: Myriam Fougère
Producers: Pauline Voisard and Myriam Fougère
With Alix Dobkin, Crow Cohen, Imani Rashid
Canada 2012
63 min
Sales: Groupe Intervention Video
Immensely enjoyable documentary following key players in the North American East Coast feminist movement from the 1970s to mid 1990s. Fougère meets lesbian writers, philosophers, activists and musicians who took part in and helped create the second wave feminist community and culture that focussed on women-only spaces in places like Montreal, New York and of course the Michigan Women’s Festival. Comprised of archival footage, photographs and inspiring interviews with the women involved – many in their seventies and eighties now, but still sporting some pretty great dungarees and labryses – the film considers the legacy of this type of sisterhood and lesbian identity in a celebratory but thoughtful, and sometimes critical way. This is an important piece of herstory for all feminists.

She Said Boom: The Story of Fifth Column
Director: Kevin Hegge
Producer: Kelly Jenkins
Screenwriters: Kevin Hegge, Oliver Husain
With G.B. Jones, Bruce LaBruce, Kathleen Hanna, Caroline Azar
Canada-Germany-USA 2012
64 min
Sales: VTape
Hegge’s documentary about the groundbreaking queer feminist all-female art band Fifth Column – who were at the centre of Toronto’s influential Queercore scene in the 1980-90s – explores the band’s impressive legacy and considers why you might not have heard of them. Featuring interviews with Bruce LaBruce, Vaginal Davis and Kathleen Hanna mixed with rare archival photos, footage of the band performing live and of course new interviews with the key members, Hegge builds an exciting picture of visionary punks living outside of the system in crumbling buildings – making art, music, film and starting fanzine wars.

Foreign Film Week: Sexism in Three of Bollywood’s Most Popular Films

Guest post written by Katherine Filaseta.
It is no secret that India has problems when it comes to the status of women. Everyone heard about the gang rape in Delhi in December 2012; it was broadcast in America so much that some people didn’t even know about the events in Steubenville, but knew all about India. There is a common perception in America these days that women in India are seen as “sub-human” by all of Indian culture, and this is entirely false. However, it is true that I do not feel safe being a woman and walking down the streets of India alone, and this is a problem. 
I adore Bollywood; it allows me to watch an entire generation evolve on the silver screen, no matter what country I’m currently living in. I even love the fact that some Bollywood love stories are more romantic than the sappiest fairytales. However, some of these love stories come with the price of reinforcing terrible patriarchal standards – and any story that makes sexual harassment appear commonplace and “okay” isn’t romantic, no matter how charismatic the leading man is. 
Which Bollywood films become hits and which become flops can be indicative of which values Indian society places the most importance on. Perhaps if the right films are successful, the next time I go to India I’ll feel safe walking down the street alone – maybe even at night. Safety for women doesn’t have to be some elusive fantasy, and Bollywood can help us create this change. 
Terrible Films That Everyone Loves 
There are a lot of films in India which have been wildly successful, but which have also been detrimental for the feminist agenda in India. All of the films that follow are in this category. These three films together encompass all three major Bollywood stars and are on the must-watch list for anyone interested in Bollywood. I am also convinced that every single one of these films has played a role in shaping the way Indian society thinks, making it more difficult for women to live safely and comfortably in India. 
Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge

Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, 1995 

To give you an idea of just how wildly successful DDLJ is: it has been running in some theaters for 900 weeks straight as of January 11, 2013. People love this film. Shah Rukh Khan plays Raj, a charming douchebag; Kajol plays opposite him as Simran and is stunning and loveable as usual. It is one of the first films to address the problems that affect NRI’s (Non-Resident Indian, or Indians living outside of India), as well as the conflict of “tradition vs modern” faced by Indians in the 1990s as everyone tried to reconcile their family’s values and traditions with the growing influence of Western culture – and it does an amazing job portraying each. 
What it also does, though, is help to solidify a patriarchal standard. This film tells people, through the love story of Raj and Simran, that with enough persistence, harassment, and stalking, a man can convince any girl to fall in love with him. A girl is a prize to be won, and sexual harassment is the way to win her. Not only that, but the ultimate way to show respect for a woman is by refusing to marry her until her father literally hands her over to you – solidifying the female’s complete lack of choice in the scenario. 
(Spoilers follow the images) 
How Simran feels about Raj before intermission
How Simran feels about Raj after intermission

Raj spends the entire first half of the film harassing Simran non-stop throughout Europe. They are trapped together in the most unfortunate of circumstances, but Simran remains wonderfully strong. Soon, however, Raj professes his love for Simran – and she, apparently suffering from some sort of Stockholm Syndrome, returns his love. However, Simran and Raj can’t be together; Simran has already promised to follow through with a marriage her parents have arranged for her back in India. 

Raj follows Simran to India, but they can’t just run off together. Simran has been won and is willing to leave her family behind forever to spend her life with Raj, but unfortunately for her Raj still has another challenge to complete before he can run off with his prize. Simran is still owned by her father, and Raj is too decent to steal an object from another man. He has to convince Simran’s father to give her to him, and so commences the second half of the film. Of course it turns out well for the couple, as after and hour and a half of convincing and fifteen minutes of dramatic tension, Simran’s father literally allows her leave his hands and run into Raj’s. 
Every single line used by Raj in his harassment of Simran over the course of this film has also been used on me in India. By Raj succeeding in marrying Simran, her discomfort at his harassment is transformed into simply a girl playing “hard to get”. DDLJ has helped shape my coarse response to similar harassment into nothing more than encouragement for men to try harder. 
Aamir Khan in Lagaan

Lagaan, 2006 

Lagaan is only the third film out of India to be nominated for an Oscar. It didn’t win, but it put India on the map for the first time since the 1980’s as a place where legitimate films are made. It is set during the British Raj, where an insufferable British officer is abusing his power over the local villagers by imposing a land tax they can’t afford to pay. They end up placing a bet over a cricket match: If the villagers, with a strong-headed patriot named Bhuvan at the lead, can learn the game and defeat the British officers, they will not have to pay the tax. It is a very well-made film starring Aamir Khan, who is known in India for fighting for social change across the country. 
There are a lot of good things about the film, and it deserves most of the positive attention it has garnered. However, there is a major problem with the film as well: there are only two female characters, and both of them serve the sole purpose of fawning over the male lead. Elizabeth Russell is a very kind British woman who sneaks out of her house to teach the villagers the game of cricket, despite the language barrier and opposition from her family. Essentially, the instant she meets Bhuvan, she forgets her greater purpose of helping the fight against injustice and falls head over heels for him. She even professes her love for him, but of course Bhuvan can’t speak English so doesn’t understand what she is saying. Elizabeth’s opposition is Gauri, a village girl who is also in love with Bhuvan, but who has never told him. She has, however, shown her love through making him rotis, as any good Indian wife should. (Spoiler alert ahead!) In the end, Bhuvan marries Gauri and Elizabeth moves back to England to be single for the rest of her life. 
Elizabeth Russell singing about how much she loves Bhuvan

Gauri singing about how much she loves Bhuvan

In a typical move of exoticizing the other, there is a common stereotype in India of white or “Westernized” women being sexual to the point that they have already given their consent for anything a man might want to do to them. We did the same to them by popularizing and exaggerating the kama sutra, so you can’t blame them too much – but by creating Elizabeth Russell, this stereotype is only being reinforced. White women clearly all come to India for the sole purpose of falling in lust with men they can’t even communicate with, but Indian women shouldn’t worry – men will always marry the proper Indian girl who makes delicious rotis in the end. 

Salman Khan in Dabangg

Dabangg, 2010 
I could have easily and accurately instead said “every movie starring Salman Khan in the past few years,” but Dabangg was the beginning of the movement. I was in India when Dabangg came out, and the excitement over Salman Khan’s comeback film was pervasive and insane. This is a ridiculous film starring a man who epitomizes a certain standard of masculinity: Chulbul Pandey has bulging muscles, a propensity for fighting, and an ability to woo girls by harassing them until they fall in love with them (a la DDLJ). Chulbul Pandey’s signature dance move is the hip thrust, and he uses it every chance he can get. 
If Dabangg did anything right, it was play to Salman Khan’s strengths. This is a man who has gotten away with killing a man while driving drunk, and who has a restraining order placed against him by his ex-girlfriend whom he used to physically abuse. He was the first Bollywood star to really “bulk up,” which has helped him win over a few of the most lusted-after Bollywood starlets. Chulbul Pandey has testosterone flowing in every inch of his body, and Salman can play this character perfectly. 
There are essentially two females in this movie: the one Chulbul woos by harassing her until she feels she has no choice but to marry him, and an item dancer – a girl whose sole purpose is to appear in one song wearing close to nothing while a bunch of drunk men (Chulbul included) fawn over her oozing female sexuality. Other Salman Khan films since, including the Dabangg sequel, haven’t been any better. 
Mallika Sherawat dancing her item number, “Munni Badnaam Hui”

(For a well-written, feminist perspective on Dabangg 2, see Priya Joshi’s review for Digital Spy) 

Is There a Bright Side? 

For the most part, last year was a great year for Hindi films. February gave us Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu, winning the feminist audience over with its ending, in which the central relationship is left to proceed on the girl’s terms. March gave us Kahaani, an amazingly well-made movie with a strong, central female character. In October, we were brought something amazing through English Vinglish: a female-directed film with a strong female lead, which beautifully addresses some of the issues middle-aged Indian women are facing both in India and abroad. Previously, the cut-off age for female leads in Bollywood has been around 30, so Sridevi’s starring role in this film in itself is an additional breakthrough on the feminist front. 
I haven’t watched anything promising yet in 2013, but given the success of more progressive films in 2012, we can remain optimistic. In Mera Naam Joker, there is a female character named Meena who pretends to be a man and carries a knife, which she pulls out at the tiniest threat to her safety – simply so she is able to live alone in Bombay. Even though this film is over 50 years old, I have spent a lot of time myself wondering if I could pull off what Meena did. The situation now isn’t much better, but it can be. We can control our own future as women in India, and Bollywood can help us – not just hold us back. 
Katherine Filaseta is a recent graduate of Washington University in Saint Louis whose life has somehow managed to become constantly split between the United States and India. She really likes Bollywood, education, feminism, zoos, and the performing arts. Follow her on twitter.

Foreign Film Week: Gender, Family and Globalization in ‘Eat Drink Man Woman’

Chef Chu and his “middle daughter” Jia-Chien in Eat Drink Man Woman

Guest post written by Emily Contois. A version of this post previously appeared at her blog.
In Eat Drink Man Woman (1994), director and co-writer Ang Lee expertly tells the story of changing family dynamics in Taipei, Taiwan during a time of rapid modernization, employing a universal medium — food. Through Chef Chu who has lost his sense of taste and his three adult daughters, this film addresses many themes, chief among them gender roles, family, and globalization, which each progress forward in divergent, but equally valid and flexible ways.
Starting from its dichotomous title, gender and authority come to the fore in this film, issues that also greatly shape the roles of women in the public world of food where men in general are more likely to hold positions of power. Such is the case for Chef Chu. While he no longer works full time at The Grand Hotel, he acts with assured confidence when he is called in one evening to help the all male staff to rectify a dish that is being served at an important dinner.

Chef Chu presenting the “saved” shark fin soup, transformed into a lucky dragon
The traditional, powerful, masculine role of “The Chef” is complicated in the film, however, as Chef Chu’s authority is not well recognized by his daughters. Furthermore, as he parents alone, Chef Chu serves as both mother and father and performs many conventionally feminine duties, such as feeding his daughters, folding their laundry—even waking them up in the morning. Throughout the film, Chef Chu prepares elaborate family dinners, which his daughters attend, but half-heartedly and with a degree of frustration, irritability, and irreverence.

Chef Chu serving dinner to his three daughters early on in the film
Further complicating Chef Chu’s authority, his “middle daughter” (Jia-Chien) aspires to be a master chef like her father. Chef Chu dissuaded her from following a culinary career, however, encouraging her to attend university instead. Jia-Chien had assumed her father did this based upon conventional views that women do not make good chefs, but that proves to not be the case. A close family friend reveals that what Chef Chu wants for his daughter is an easier and better life away from the kitchen. Interestingly, it is Jia-Chien’s return to the home kitchen and cooking for her father that brings back Chef Chu’s lost sense of taste. This act can be read as either thwarting or promoting feminist views, as her cooking can be interpreted as the provision of conventionally feminine nourishment or as a demonstration of female culinary power.
Jia-Chien cooks for her father, causing the return of his lost sense of taste

Beyond transforming gender roles, Eat Drink Man Woman also discusses family, again focusing on transition. Though he is unable for much of the film to communicate with his own daughters—through food or otherwise—Chef Chu is able to connect with his (somewhat secret) fiancé’s daughter. For her, he prepares lunches so elaborate that they elevate her status at school, nourishing her both emotionally and physically. In this way, these special noontime meals are similar to obento in that they aid a child as she makes a transition that could be difficult, not from the home to school, but from a single-parent family to a new one that includes Chef Chu. Six family meals around the table punctuate the film, as the changing participants and their relationships to one another demonstrate the transition within this family, as well as in Taiwan as a whole.

As the Chu family evolves, the contrasts from scene to scene also depict the theme of generational gaps, conflict, negotiation, and change. Busy streets scenes filled with the mechanical hum of cars and motorcycles represent the growing and changing nature of Taiwan; these visuals are juxtaposed with the pastoral, traditional, and idyllic entrance to the Chu home, where Chef Chu prepares meals in the traditional style—scenes aptly termed “culinary pastoral.”

While Eat Drink Man Woman discusses transitions in gender roles and family structure through food, the film’s overarching theme is not food itself, but rather the forces of modernization and globalization that bring on these changes. For example, Chef Chu’s elaborate traditional family meals, the luxurious cuisine of The Grand Hotel, and the fast food restaurant where his youngest daughter works all coexist, representing the contemporary state of globalized Taiwan. The film also portrays a variety of new, “non-traditional” relationships and family structures. For example, Chef Chu’s youngest daughter gets pregnant while still a student and subsequently marries her boyfriend, leaving her father’s home sooner than expected. Chef Chu also negotiates a new familial structure when he marries a younger woman and moves out of the family home, charting a new future.

The transformed Chu family eating a meal near the end of the film

Perhaps Jia-Chien best embodies these forces of change, however, as she has achieved the career her father hoped for her — she works in a highly globalized field, holding a managerial position with an international airline. At the same time, she aspires to cook professionally. In this way, Jia-Chien most fully expresses the complexity and ongoing negotiation of these global transformations. Through her — not coincidentally the “middle” daughter — Lee’s film portrays a character caught between the fluid states of tradition and modernization, family obligation and independence, who eventually finds balance and solace in food. In this way, food—so oft considered a conventionally domestic, maternal, feminine concern — emerges as a powerful and dynamic symbol of change in all its complexity, and ushers in evolving gender roles, family structures, and global life.

———-
Emily Contois works in the field of worksite wellness and is a graduate student in the MLA in Gastronomy Program at Boston University that was founded by Julia Child and Jacques Pépin. She is currently researching the marketing of diet programs to men, and blogs on food studies, nutrition, and public health at emilycontois.com.

The Ten Most-Read Posts from January 2013

Did you miss these popular posts on Bitch Flicks? If so, here’s your chance to catch up. 

“Silver Linings Playbook, or, As I Like to Call It: FuckYeahJenniferLawrence” by Stephanie Rogers

“Zero Dark Thirty Raises Questions on Gender and Torture, Gives No Easy Answers” by Megan Kearns

“The Evolution of The Big Bang Theory“ by Rachel Redfern

“The Power of Narrative in Django Unchained“ by Leigh Kolb

“Les Miserables, Sex Trafficking & Fantine as a Symbol for Women’s Oppression” by Megan Kearns

“It’s ‘Impossible’ Not to See the White-Centric Point of View” by Lady T

“Let’s All Take a Deep Breath and Calm the Fuck Down About Lena Dunham” by Stephanie Rogers

“Les Miserables: The Feminism Behind the Barricades” by Leigh Kolb

“The Zero Dark Thirty Controversy: What Does Jessica Chastain’s Beauty Have to Do With It?” by Lady T

“An Open Letter to Owen Wilson Regarding Moonrise Kingdom“ by Molly McCaffrey

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

What ‘Oz’ Owes to Early Radical Feminism by Michelle Dean via The Nation
Why ‘Oz the Great and Powerful’ Is A Major Step Back For Witches and Women by Elisabeth Rappe via Film.com

Where Were White Feminists Speaking Out For Quvenzhané Wallis? by Kirsten West Savali via Clutch Magazine
On Quvenzhané Wallis by Jessica Luther via Shakesville

Can Women in Hollywood Lean In? by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

What Happened in the Last Episode of ‘Girls’ Was Not “Uncomfortable Sex” by Samhita Mukhopadhyay via Feministing

‘Girls,’ Women and Mental Health by Kathleen Pye via Fem2pt0

Damsel in Distress (Part 1) Tropes vs. Women in Video Games by Anita Sarkeesian via Feminist Frequency 

Comedy Central Orders 10 Episodes of Broad City by Jesse David Fox via Vulture 
Enough Feisty Princesses: Disney Needs an Introverted Heroine by Lindsay Lowe via The Atlantic

Why The Fearful Hero Is A Good Thing For Video Games (On Lara Croft in Tomb Raider) by Becky Chambers via The Mary Sue

A Love Letter to Quvenzhané Wallis by Moyazb via The Crunk Feminist Collective 
What have you been reading this week?? Tell us in the comments! 

Women of Color in Film and TV: The Roundup

Kerry Washington

“Mammy, Sapphire, or Jezebel, Olivia Pope Is Not: A Review of Scandal“ by Atima Omara-Alwala

Many writers and film critics have written about the three usual archetypes that black women have fit into in popular culture representation. And it is through this prism Scandal is viewed. The Jezebel, who is very sexually promiscuous; the Mammy, who is the tireless devoted mother like figure regardless of all the wrong you did; and the Sapphire, a head-whipping, finger-snapping, anger-filled black woman. These stereotypes permeate all aspects of the American black women experience. 
I love Community, Parks and Recreation, and Archer. They are my three favorite shows on the air at the moment. Coincidentally, each of them has an African-American woman among the main ensemble, and it makes for an illuminating comparison to look at the respective treatment of Shirley Bennett, Donna Meagle, and Lana Kane.
Sumpter, Ejogo, and Sparks

“Sparkle: Same Song, Fine Tuned” by Candice Frederick

In Sparkle, we have three very different sisters, Tammy aka “Sister” (Carmen Ejogo), Sparkle (Jordin Sparks), and Dolores aka “D” (Tika Sumpter), who each have a dream. D wants to go to medical school. Sister, the oldest sibling, wants to get the hell out of their strict mom’s (Whitney Houston) house, once and for all. And Sparkle, the youngest and most timid of the three, wants a chance–a chance to become a famous singer and songwriter. With encouragement from her dashing admirer, Stix (Derek Luke), Sparkle enlists her two older sisters in their own singing group so that they can each finally see their dreams come true.

Zoe Kravitz

“A Girl Struggles to Survive Her Chaotic Homelife in Yelling to the Sky“ by Megan Kearns

Yelling to the Sky opens with a jarring scene. Sweetness is getting bullied and beaten up in the street by her classmates. Latonya (Gabourey Sidibe) taunts her for the lightness of her skin and her biracial heritage – briefly raising complex issues of race and colorism. But she’s rescued by her older sister Ola (Antonique Smith in a scene-stealing powerhouse performance) who we see, as the camera eventually pans out, is very pregnant. This juxtaposition of a brawling pregnant woman, a fiercely protective sister, makes an interesting commentary on our expectations of gender.

Mindy Kaling

“Thoughts on The Mindy Project and Other Screen Depictions of Indian Women” by Martyna Przybysz

A majority of feminist statements made in the show have nothing to do with race. Similar to Hannah from Girls, she is a full-figured lady, unobnoxiously proud of it (she wears dresses that accentuate her figure but rarely reveals her cleavage), and very much aware of it. She refers to herself in a belittling manner on a number of occasions, such as in episode one when she answers her phone on a date saying, “Do you know how difficult it is for a chubby 31-year-old woman to go on a legit date with a guy who majored in economics at Duke?” So, there is a healthy dose of self-awareness. Or is there?
 Black Women in Hollywood Awards
The awards luncheon, held two days before the Academy Awards, celebrates the success of black women writers, producers, actresses and other Hollywood power-brokers. Actress Tracee Ellis Ross says, “It’s a beautiful afternoon where we’re celebrating each other and giving praise to women that don’t always get praised.” 
This event by, for and all about black women in Hollywood serves as a celebration of the successes these women have had and as inspiration to the women who will come after them.
Kim Wayans & Adepero Oduye
“Pariah“ by Janyce Denise Glasper
Now this is the kind of African American role that the Academy is deadest against honoring. A woman who doesn’t allow herself to repressed by negativity and has the strength to move forward to better opportunities with talent driving her. To the conservative viewer- it’s crucial. Not only is this young African American woman smart and gifted, she happens to be gay. 
Definitely robbed of an Oscar nod, here’s hoping that Oduye nabs another pivotal role that garners attention from the snubbing Hollywood elite.
Shonda Rhimes’ Scandal
In “Sweet Baby,” Act One ends with a murder suspect walking into the office with blood literally on his hands. Act Two sees that murder investigation and raises us a POTUS (President of the United States) embroiled in a sex scandal. In Act Three, Olivia’s conservative-soldier client, the alleged murderer, gets arrested because he refuses to be “outted.” By the end of Act Four, Olivia “handles” the POTUS’s sex scandal by destroying the life of the President’s accuser/mistress who then tries to kill herself. The middle of Act Five is where we learn the biggest scandal of them all: that Olivia and the President were having an affair. By the end of the show, the stakes are raised sky high when Olivia, feeling betrayed by her married ex-lover, takes the President’s mistress on as a client. 
Viola Davis & Octavia Spencer
If Kathryn Stockett’s novel The Help was an angel food cake study of racism and segregation in the ’60s South, the new movie adaptation is even fluffier. Like a dollop of whip cream skimmed off a multi-layered cake, the film only grazes the surface of the intersecting oppressions of race, class, gender and geohistory.
…
I maintain the novel is a good read. But its shortcomings – its nostalgia, its failure to really grapple with structural inequality, its privileging of the white narrator’s voice and its reliance on stock characters – are heightened rather than diminished in the film.
Michelle Rodriguez
Michelle Rodriguez, famous for her roles in Girlfight, The Fast and the Furious series, and TV series Lost, is a cinematic conundrum. Much like most Latina actresses, Rodriguez is typecast. Unlike those Latina actresses who are typecast as extremely feminine and sensual, Rodriguez is typecast as the smoldering, independent bad girl who doesn’t take shit from men. In her roles, Rodriguez embodies many traditionally coded masculine traits (she’s strong, aggressive, mechanically inclined, independent, physical, etc). Despite this perceived masculinity, she is not depicted as a lesbian, and her butch attributes are actually designed to accentuate her sexual appeal. Certainly, several actresses have played this same kind of role before (though, with them, there’s often skin-tight leather or vinyl in the mix), but Rodriguez consistently plays this same role over and over again. 
Pam Grier on the cover of Ms.
I first saw Grier in Jackie Brown, and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t featured prominently in more films (and then I quickly remembered African American female protagonists are few and far between). It wasn’t always this way, though.
Grier’s legacy has lasted over four decades, but there’s something about her career that leaves me feeling unsettled, as if her filmography is indicative of larger (backward) social trends. She started out headlining action films–an amazing feat for a woman, much less a black woman in the early 1970s. A glance at a few of these films show incredibly feminist themes that are incredibly rare 40 years later. Her early films were groundbreaking, but nothing much was built after that ground was broken.
Kerry Washington in Scandal

It’s great to see a show that’s unabashedly female-centric and more concerned with telling stories than trying to be gimmicky (and which portrays performers with far more subtlety than Smash could ever manage). There are enough shows where women are nothing more than set dressing for it not to be an issue that all six leads in Bunheads are ladies.

But it is an issue that all six leads are white.

Quvenzhané Wallis
Last year I proudly blogged about Octavia Spencer’s Supporting Actress Oscar win for The Help. Happily, this is the year of milestones and giving major props to the women of color actresses on film in 2012. Making history as the youngest Best Actress Academy Award nominee, newcomer Quvenzhané Wallis has charmed audiences and critics as “Hushpuppy” in Beasts of the Southern Wild. At 14 years old, actress Amandla Stenberg is a seasoned veteran of television and film. Amandla broke the color barrier winning the role of “Rue” in The Hunger Games. Starring as the lovely “Broomhilda” in Django Unchained, Kerry Washington turned a milestone with the lead in the ABC hit show, Scandal, as the first African-American actress to star in a network drama series in 39 years.
Yvette Nicole Brown

 A Post About Community‘s Shirley? That’s Nice. by Lady T.

In short: Shirley has a lot of anger. What makes Shirley’s anger so refreshing is that her anger is not portrayed as a sign of her blackness, or her womanhood, but as the sign of a flawed, complex human being with legitimate pain. Sometimes her anger is towards a perceived slight that has nothing to do with her (assuming that her friends judge her for her Christianity when they don’t), and sometimes her anger is completely justified (getting fed up with Pierce’s harassment and racist comments). Sometimes she’s wrong, and sometimes she’s right – just like any other person.
Sita Sings the Blues

Conflicting Thoughts On Sita Sings The Blues by Myrna Waldron


I love that this is a successful indie film written, directed, edited and produced by a single woman, Nina Paley, and the film is about a woman of colour. You can really tell this was a labour of love for her, and it’s an incredible achievement that one animator was able to do a feature length film on her own. The film is also explicitly meant to be feminist – in a long summary of the film that she released to the press, she described Sita Sings the Blues as “a tale of truth, justice, and a woman’s cry for equal treatment.” I hope to see more films helmed by women, and not just independent ones. I know that women of colour have an even harder time getting recognized as filmmakers, and I would like to see this same story retold from someone who grew up in Hindu culture, as opposed to a westerner. 
Thandie Newton in Crash

Deeper Than Race: A Movie Review of Crash by Erin Parks

This shift in the film that occurs shows that we are all just skin, blood, and bones, that we may all be able to “just get along.” It is hope. We see the racist officer save the Black woman (Thandie Newton) he previously assaulted from an overturned vehicle about to explode and the shop owner who shoots a young girl but does not harm her because the gun is full of blanks. Even after we discover that what Det. Waters saw at the beginning of the crime scene was his brother fatally shot (Larenz Tate), that is not where the film ends. A group of Thai captives are released, and there is another car crash. 
Crash does not tell you how to think or feel. It presents characters who are blunt, who turn the other cheek, are both ignorant and educated, and all of the complicated things people are. Plainly we can see that much of the anger is triggered by fear.

The Good Wife

So, is there a racial bias on The Good Wife? by Melanie Wanga

The Good Wife doesn’t hide behind tricks or facilities: the same complexity applies to all the characters. We are even treated with character development of women and men of color, and the show doesn’t shy away from race issues. 
If the women are strongly written, women of color sadly don’t escape stereotypical representations: Latinas are ‘fiery,’ and most often than not Black women are depicted as ‘angry.’ 
In honor of Black History month, I’d like to focus on the portrayals and specifics of the four most important women of color on the show: Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi), Dana Lodge (Monica Raymund), Geneva Pine (Renee Goldsberry) and Wendy Scott-Carr (Anika Noni Rose).
Eve’s Bayou
Eve’s Bayou, Kasi Lemmons’s 1997 debut as a screenwriter and director, should be seen by every movie lover, every filmmaker, every storyteller. It’s a nearly perfect narrative feat, but it only generated minor waves among film critics upon its release (although Roger Ebert did name it his Best Film of 1997), and failed to garner mainstream awards nominations (it did better at the Independent Spirit Awards and NAACP Image Awards). In the intervening sixteen years I would have expected it to build up a huge following and status as a cult classic, but it is, at best, remembered as “a contemporary classic in black cinema.“
Emayatzy Corinealdi

Ava DuVernay’s ‘Middle of Nowhere:’ A Complicated, Transformational and Feminist Love Story by Megan Kearns

I often talk about how I want to see more female-fronted films, created by female filmmakers, including women of color on-screen and behind the camera. I want complex, strong, intelligent, resilient, vulnerable, flawed women characters. I want more realistic depictions of love: tender, supportive yet complicated. I want my films to make a social statement if possible. In Ava Duvernay’s award-winning, poignant and evocative film Middle of Nowhere, she masterfully displays all of the above.
Middle of Nowhere is such a brilliant film – quiet yet intense – I worry my words won’t do it justice.

Call for Writers: Women and Gender in Foreign Films

Call for Writers: Women and Gender in Foreign Films
We’re excited to announce our latest theme week at Bitch Flicks: Women and Gender in Foreign Film!
(Even the term “foreign film” reveals a U.S. bias, so what we’re really asking for is film made outside of the U.S.)
Since March is Women’s History Month, and this coming Friday, March 8th, is International Women’s Day, we thought this would be an excellent time to take a close look at cinema in many parts of the world, and how women and gender are depicted in non-Hollywood films.
Here are some suggestions–but feel free to propose your own ideas!

Amour
Amelie
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
A Separation
Pan’s Labyrinth
Maria Full of Grace
Persepolis
The Lives of Others
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Volver
All About My Mother
Women on the Verge of Nervous Breakdown
Y Tu Mama Tambien
Let the Right One In
Babette’s Feast
I’ve Loved You So Long
Caramel
Under the Bombs
City of God
Life Is Beautiful
I Am Love
Yesterday
Indochine
Eat Drink Man Woman
The Maid
Raise the Red Lantern
Celine and Julie Go Boating
In a Better World
Children of Heaven
Camille Claudel
8 1/2
Ghost in the Shell

War Witch
Spirited Away
Kiki’s Delivery Service
My Neighbor Totoro

Some basic guidelines for guest writers:

–Pieces should be between 700 and 2,000 words.

–Include images (with captions) and links in your piece.
–Send your piece in the text of an email, attaching all images, no later than Friday, March 15th.
–Include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece.

Email us at btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com if you’d like to contribute a review. We accept original pieces or cross-posts. 
We look forward to reading your submissions!

Women of Color in Film and TV: So, is there a racial bias on ‘The Good Wife?’

The Good Wife

Guest post written by Melanie Wanga.

In the crowded market of American television, one would suggests that The Good Wife is one of the most feminist shows out there. 
First, the main character is a woman. But not any woman: complex, strong-willed and hard-working Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies), whose husband Peter, state’s attorney, cheated very publicly with a prostitute. Despite its title, The Good Wife is not a soap about how love conquers all: rather, it’s the story of Alicia’s emancipation. 
The qualities of TGW are plenty: it’s intelligent, complex, thoughtful but packed with explosive twists and turns. The legal stories are well written and more importantly, the casting is premium. 
Actually, the acting ensemble is one of the strong suits of the show: actors like Alan Cumming (Eli Gold) or Christine Baranski (Diane Lockhart) are impressive and play wonderful their parts, when equally gifted actors regularly guest star in complex roles (Michael J. Fox, Matthew Perry…) 
If we agree on the notion that “feminism is the radical notion that women are people,” then The Good Wife is definitely feminist. Women of the show are deeply human, flawed, and developed. 
Which is a quite explosive fact in a legal drama, a genre usually crippled by stereotyped non-emotional lawyer-type characters. 
The Good Wife doesn’t hide behind tricks or facilities: the same complexity applies to all the characters. We are even treated with character development of women and men of color, and the show doesn’t shy away from race issues. 
If the women are strongly written, women of color sadly don’t escape stereotypical representations: Latinas are ‘fiery,’ and most often than not Black women are depicted as ‘angry.’ 
In honor of Black History month, I’d like to focus on the portrayals and specifics of the four most important women of color on the show: Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi), Dana Lodge (Monica Raymund), Geneva Pine (Renee Goldsberry) and Wendy Scott-Carr (Anika Noni Rose). 
————————– 
Archie Panjabi as Kalinda Sharma

KALINDA SHARMA (Archie Panjabi) 

When you think ‘women of color in The Good Wife‘, the obvious answer is Kalinda Sharma. Interpreted by actress Archie Panjabi, who received an Emmy Award for her performance, she’s one of the most important characters on the show, and a viewers’ favorite. 
As an Investigator for Lockhart & Gardner, Kalinda exhudes confidence, intelligence … and sex. She often uses her physical traits and sexuality to obtain crucial information. Every character seems to succumb to her charms. 
Panjabi said in an interview that the character was not very defined at first, and simply based on an “Erin Brockovich investigator” type. That’s why I would argue Kalinda wasn’t specifically written as a woman of color. No reference is made to her social and ethnic backgrounds. Even after four seasons of the show, we still don’t know much more about her ethnicity. We are left with an “ambiguously brown” character. 
A huge part of Kalinda’s characterization lies in her sexuality. Extremely secretive and mysterious, she’s defined as bisexual (“I’m not gay. I’m… flexible,” she says), but she falls in the “not too bi” trope as she’s in fact slept with more men than women. She was even married to one [spoiler] (who  comes back in her life in the most disastrous storyline of the series). A good portion of the characters have been seduced by the investigator: Peter, Dana Lodge, FBI agent Lana Delaney… She also has an ongoing “will they/won’t they” affair with young lawyer Cary Agos (Matt Chruzcy). And, her boss Will Gardner aside, it’s made very clear that every man on the show is attracted to her. 
When Kalinda is seen in the company of other women, like Lana or Dana, the show quickly remembers us with frequent close-ups of her usual attire (namely, low-cut tops and knee-high boots) that “even the guys want her.” Kalinda’s sexuality pleases the male gaze. 
One of her main psychological traits is her duality: behind her apparent calm, cold and detached aspects (‘the submissive exotic girl’), she can become violent and extreme if the situation calls for it, which is another sexual cliché. She’s not apologetic about her sexual behavior, unless it concerns Alicia (another one of her limits). 
The fact is, as viewers, we know a lot about Kalinda’s sexuality. But we know oddly less about her motivations or internal dilemmas. Which sometimes gives the impression that her complexity is only apparent. That her “mystery” is factice, a ploy to serve the story. It’s clear the writers didn’t want to define Kalinda by her race or ethnicity, so they defined her by her sexuality and non-conventional work ethic. 
But is writing women of color as if they weren’t minorities at all is making them more real? I’m pretty sure not. 
——— 
Monica Raymund as Dana Lodge

DANA LODGE (Monica Raymund) 

Dana is an assistant at Peter’s office. She enters the show on season 2 and starts to work alongside Cary Ago. In many aspects, she fits very well the Latina’s trope: she’s fiery and out-spoken, throws tantrums, and is guided by her emotions — particularly her jealousy. 
This psychological trait is even more prominent when she interacts with Kalinda, and viewers learn the two are ex casual-sex friends. 
Working with Cary (who, as it’s been said on the show, has “a thing for ethnic women”), Dana is entangled in a love triangle with him and … Kalinda. 
Her sexuality is a heavily shown trait. But when Kalinda uses sex to her advantage, Dana is used at her own expense. She has a relationship with Cary, but he stills pines for Kalinda. And when Kalinda flirts with her, it’s for inside information. 
Dana Lodge is blindsided by her own emotions: she can’t see that Kalinda’s using her, nor that Cary’s not really attached to her. The character shows strong feelings and speaks them loudly, but can’t see through them. 
In her final scene on the show, Dana slaps Kalinda on the face, demonstrating once more her ‘fiery’ temper. At the end, Dana loses her job AND Cary. 
——— 
Renee Goldsberry as Geneva Pine

GENEVA PINE (Renee Goldsberry) 

In season 4, Peter Florrick, Chicago’s state’s attorney, runs for governor. There’s plenty of discussion on how he leads his office. Rumors of racial bias are floating around and are used by his political enemies. In one telling scene, Florrick asks his black assistant Geneva Pine if she thinks he has such bias. When she answers yes, a typical response is offered to her: rather than trying to understand her position, Florrick declares she’s wrong and misunderstood his intentions.  But then, she shuts up and judgmentally looks at him. Interestingly enough, he finally listens to her main argument on why he is racially biased: he systematically promotes white males first. 
This is an accurate depiction of most racial conversations in real life: I can’t count the times I’ve heard white people, when confronted with examples of racist or problematic behavior, respond: “But no, let me explain, it’s not racist. I’M not racist.” Resenting the idea of racism itself is more important than listening to the minority’s experience of it. 
However, Geneva is by no means a positive character. She’s talented and driven, but she’s ‘that’ minority character written as resentful over other people victories and accomplishments. 
When Cary worked at the state’s attorney’s office, she never took him seriously, even when she was teaming up with him. 
Geneva acts as an obstacle to other people ambitions, but she can’t stop them. While she’s not sexualized as a Black woman, she’s showed as perpetually angry, bitter and judgmental. 
The fact that Geneva often plays the ‘race card’ and is conscious of her status of woman of color is not welcomed positively on the show. Geneva is misguided, she accuses everyone of being biased. As such, she’s the stereotype of the ‘angry minority’ and ‘angry black woman’ who nobody listens to, because she’s ‘crazy, hateful and not neutral.’

Not a good look, huh? 

——— 
Anika Noni Rose as Wendy Scott-Carr

WENDY SCOTT-CARR (Anika Noni Rose) 

The fourth notable woman of color of the show is an interesting one as she holds much more power than the others. 
Wendy Scott Carr is introduced during the second season, when Peter decides to run for a new mandate state’s attorney. She positions herself as his political opponent. The fact that she’s a woman of color is precisely what gives her an edge: Peter’s sex scandal is still out there, and Wendy appears as a voice of the women. She’s everything he’s not: she’s Black and has strong family values. Even the viewers are rooting for her. She should crush Peter on the finish line. 
But then, the show develops the character. Wendy reveals herself to be ‘a bitch in sheep’s clothing:’ she’s cold, calculating and deeply hypocritical. Behind her nice facade, she’s smug, has unapologetic ambitions, and despises the Florricks. And she won’t hesitate to get dirty to win the election. 
When she loses the campaign to Peter, she takes her failure very personally. She then becomes a full-fledged resident villain of the show: on numerous occasions, she’ll be back to legally torment our protagonists. 
Wendy is not affable, that’s a fact. What’s bugging me is the show depicts Wendy’s coldness as more reprehensible than Peter’s amorality, and as a valid reason for her to lose. 
Developing a seemingly good character into a complex and ‘not so nice’ one is something The Good Wife does very well. In Wendy Scott-Carr’s case, the evolution seemed forced, and to make her come back for Will’s blood on season 3 was downright caricature. She’s not nuanced anymore: she hates Alicia, the Florricks, the Lockhart-Gardner law firm and all of their allies. She will go after our heroes for no other reason than … well, she REALLY hates them. 
As much as it’s rare (and nice) to see an ambitious Black woman with actual power on TV, the traits that seem to prevail are always anger, grudge, man-hating. As if they somehow should make people pay. 
——— 
Women of color in The Good Wife seem to follow a strange pattern. The good side: they’re all ambitious and talented. The bad side: they’re either sexualized, thus deemed attractive and complex, or they become jealous, angry and over-the-top villains. 
Representing complex women of color in millennial television shouldn’t be a challenge. But, by all accounts  it still is. While I applaud The Good Wife for depicting ambitious and complex characters, I can’t hide my disappointment over stereotypical traits in their women of color. 
Seriously, I love my TV shows and all. But, really writers, I can assure you we, and by we I mean humanity, don’t need MORE representations of fiery Latinas and angry Black women. 
——— 
Melanie Wanga is a French journalist based in Paris. She’s a pop culture lover, passionate reader and a feminist. Like everybody on the Internet, she also loves cats. You can follow her on Twitter: @MelanieWanga.

Women of Color in Film and TV: So, is there a racial bias on ‘The Good Wife’?

The Good Wife

Guest post written by Melanie Wanga.

In the crowded market of American television, one would suggests that The Good Wife is one of the most feminist shows out there. 
First, the main character is a woman. But not any woman: complex, strong-willed and hard-working Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies), whose husband Peter, state’s attorney, cheated very publicly with a prostitute. Despite its title, The Good Wife is not a soap about how love conquers all: rather, it’s the story of Alicia’s emancipation. 
The qualities of TGW are plenty: it’s intelligent, complex, thoughtful but packed with explosive twists and turns. The legal stories are well written and more importantly, the casting is premium. 
Actually, the acting ensemble is one of the strong suits of the show: actors like Alan Cumming (Eli Gold) or Christine Baranski (Diane Lockhart) are impressive and play wonderful their parts, when equally gifted actors regularly guest star in complex roles (Michael J. Fox, Matthew Perry…) 
If we agree on the notion that “feminism is the radical notion that women are people,” then The Good Wife is definitely feminist. Women of the show are deeply human, flawed, and developed. 
Which is a quite explosive fact in a legal drama, a genre usually crippled by stereotyped non-emotional lawyer-type characters. 
The Good Wife doesn’t hide behind tricks or facilities: the same complexity applies to all the characters. We are even treated with character development of women and men of color, and the show doesn’t shy away from race issues. 
If the women are strongly written, women of color sadly don’t escape stereotypical representations: Latinas are ‘fiery,’ and most often than not Black women are depicted as ‘angry.’ 
In honor of Black History month, I’d like to focus on the portrayals and specifics of the four most important women of color on the show: Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi), Dana Lodge (Monica Raymund), Geneva Pine (Renee Goldsberry) and Wendy Scott-Carr (Anika Noni Rose). 
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Archie Panjabi as Kalinda Sharma

KALINDA SHARMA (Archie Panjabi) 

When you think ‘women of color in The Good Wife‘, the obvious answer is Kalinda Sharma. Interpreted by actress Archie Panjabi, who received an Emmy Award for her performance, she’s one of the most important characters on the show, and a viewers’ favorite. 
As an Investigator for Lockhart & Gardner, Kalinda exhudes confidence, intelligence … and sex. She often uses her physical traits and sexuality to obtain crucial information. Every character seems to succumb to her charms. 
Panjabi said in an interview that the character was not very defined at first, and simply based on an “Erin Brockovich investigator” type. That’s why I would argue Kalinda wasn’t specifically written as a woman of color. No reference is made to her social and ethnic backgrounds. Even after four seasons of the show, we still don’t know much more about her ethnicity. We are left with an “ambiguously brown” character. 
A huge part of Kalinda’s characterization lies in her sexuality. Extremely secretive and mysterious, she’s defined as bisexual (“I’m not gay. I’m… flexible,” she says), but she falls in the “not too bi” trope as she’s in fact slept with more men than women. She was even married to one [spoiler] (who  comes back in her life in the most disastrous storyline of the series). A good portion of the characters have been seduced by the investigator: Peter, Dana Lodge, FBI agent Lana Delaney… She also has an ongoing “will they/won’t they” affair with young lawyer Cary Agos (Matt Chruzcy). And, her boss Will Gardner aside, it’s made very clear that every man on the show is attracted to her. 
When Kalinda is seen in the company of other women, like Lana or Dana, the show quickly remembers us with frequent close-ups of her usual attire (namely, low-cut tops and knee-high boots) that “even the guys want her.” Kalinda’s sexuality pleases the male gaze. 
One of her main psychological traits is her duality: behind her apparent calm, cold and detached aspects (‘the submissive exotic girl’), she can become violent and extreme if the situation calls for it, which is another sexual cliché. She’s not apologetic about her sexual behavior, unless it concerns Alicia (another one of her limits). 
The fact is, as viewers, we know a lot about Kalinda’s sexuality. But we know oddly less about her motivations or internal dilemmas. Which sometimes gives the impression that her complexity is only apparent. That her “mystery” is factice, a ploy to serve the story. It’s clear the writers didn’t want to define Kalinda by her race or ethnicity, so they defined her by her sexuality and non-conventional work ethic. 
But is writing women of color as if they weren’t minorities at all is making them more real? I’m pretty sure not. 
——— 
Monica Raymund as Dana Lodge

DANA LODGE (Monica Raymund) 

Dana is an assistant at Peter’s office. She enters the show on season 2 and starts to work alongside Cary Ago. In many aspects, she fits very well the Latina’s trope: she’s fiery and out-spoken, throws tantrums, and is guided by her emotions — particularly her jealousy. 
This psychological trait is even more prominent when she interacts with Kalinda, and viewers learn the two are ex casual-sex friends. 
Working with Cary (who, as it’s been said on the show, has “a thing for ethnic women”), Dana is entangled in a love triangle with him and … Kalinda. 
Her sexuality is a heavily shown trait. But when Kalinda uses sex to her advantage, Dana is used at her own expense. She has a relationship with Cary, but he stills pines for Kalinda. And when Kalinda flirts with her, it’s for inside information. 
Dana Lodge is blindsided by her own emotions: she can’t see that Kalinda’s using her, nor that Cary’s not really attached to her. The character shows strong feelings and speaks them loudly, but can’t see through them. 
In her final scene on the show, Dana slaps Kalinda on the face, demonstrating once more her ‘fiery’ temper. At the end, Dana loses her job AND Cary. 
——— 
Renee Goldsberry as Geneva Pine

GENEVA PINE (Renee Goldsberry) 

In season 4, Peter Florrick, Chicago’s state’s attorney, runs for governor. There’s plenty of discussion on how he leads his office. Rumors of racial bias are floating around and are used by his political enemies. In one telling scene, Florrick asks his black assistant Geneva Pine if she thinks he has such bias. When she answers yes, a typical response is offered to her: rather than trying to understand her position, Florrick declares she’s wrong and misunderstood his intentions.  But then, she shuts up and judgmentally looks at him. Interestingly enough, he finally listens to her main argument on why he is racially biased: he systematically promotes white males first. 
This is an accurate depiction of most racial conversations in real life: I can’t count the times I’ve heard white people, when confronted with examples of racist or problematic behavior, respond: “But no, let me explain, it’s not racist. I’M not racist.” Resenting the idea of racism itself is more important than listening to the minority’s experience of it. 
However, Geneva is by no means a positive character. She’s talented and driven, but she’s ‘that’ minority character written as resentful over other people victories and accomplishments. 
When Cary worked at the state’s attorney’s office, she never took him seriously, even when she was teaming up with him. 
Geneva acts as an obstacle to other people ambitions, but she can’t stop them. While she’s not sexualized as a Black woman, she’s showed as perpetually angry, bitter and judgmental. 
The fact that Geneva often plays the ‘race card’ and is conscious of her status of woman of color is not welcomed positively on the show. Geneva is misguided, she accuses everyone of being biased. As such, she’s the stereotype of the ‘angry minority’ and ‘angry black woman’ who nobody listens to, because she’s ‘crazy, hateful and not neutral.’

Not a good look, huh? 

——— 
Anika Noni Rose as Wendy Scott-Carr

WENDY SCOTT-CARR (Anika Noni Rose) 

The fourth notable woman of color of the show is an interesting one as she holds much more power than the others. 
Wendy Scott Carr is introduced during the second season, when Peter decides to run for a new mandate state’s attorney. She positions herself as his political opponent. The fact that she’s a woman of color is precisely what gives her an edge: Peter’s sex scandal is still out there, and Wendy appears as a voice of the women. She’s everything he’s not: she’s Black and has strong family values. Even the viewers are rooting for her. She should crush Peter on the finish line. 
But then, the show develops the character. Wendy reveals herself to be ‘a bitch in sheep’s clothing:’ she’s cold, calculating and deeply hypocritical. Behind her nice facade, she’s smug, has unapologetic ambitions, and despises the Florricks. And she won’t hesitate to get dirty to win the election. 
When she loses the campaign to Peter, she takes her failure very personally. She then becomes a full-fledged resident villain of the show: on numerous occasions, she’ll be back to legally torment our protagonists. 
Wendy is not affable, that’s a fact. What’s bugging me is the show depicts Wendy’s coldness as more reprehensible than Peter’s amorality, and as a valid reason for her to lose. 
Developing a seemingly good character into a complex and ‘not so nice’ one is something The Good Wife does very well. In Wendy Scott-Carr’s case, the evolution seemed forced, and to make her come back for Will’s blood on season 3 was downright caricature. She’s not nuanced anymore: she hates Alicia, the Florricks, the Lockhart-Gardner law firm and all of their allies. She will go after our heroes for no other reason than … well, she REALLY hates them. 
As much as it’s rare (and nice) to see an ambitious Black woman with actual power on TV, the traits that seem to prevail are always anger, grudge, man-hating. As if they somehow should make people pay. 
——— 
Women of color in The Good Wife seem to follow a strange pattern. The good side: they’re all ambitious and talented. The bad side: they’re either sexualized, thus deemed attractive and complex, or they become jealous, angry and over-the-top villains. 
Representing complex women of color in millennial television shouldn’t be a challenge. But, by all accounts  it still is. While I applaud The Good Wife for depicting ambitious and complex characters, I can’t hide my disappointment over stereotypical traits in their women of color. 
Seriously, I love my TV shows and all. But, really writers, I can assure you we, and by we I mean humanity, don’t need MORE representations of fiery Latinas and angry Black women. 
——— 
Melanie Wanga is a French journalist based in Paris. She’s a pop culture lover, passionate reader and a feminist. Like everybody on the Internet, she also loves cats. You can follow her on Twitter: @MelanieWanga.

Women of Color in Film and TV: Deeper Than Race: A Movie Review of “Crash”

Crash (2004)
Guest post written by Erin Parks. 
We are not alone. Our lives are filled with people, places, and things that come together in unexpected ways. Sometimes we are violently brought to understanding – a gun fired, a tumble down the stairs, or a car crash, for example. Writer and director Paul Haggis orchestrates the lives of eleven characters in modern day Los Angeles, California, whose daily lives are altered by various altercations, highlighted with racial tension. 
The story lines are all carefully introduced, and, throughout the film, display a range of emotions and attitudes about how we deal with race in America. The movie opens with the title remark from Detective Graham Waters (Don Cheadle) about how we “crash” into one another sometime because we miss human connection. 
His Latina girlfriend simply shakes her head then gets out of the confront the Asian woman who ran into her. As the police attempts to mediate the argument, which quickly turns down “Stereotypes Street” – Asians can’t drive, all Latino people are Mexican, etc.- the tone is set. Crash is a dark exploration into what we think when we are angry and afraid, but would not dare utter out loud. After Det. Graham sees something familiar on a nearby crime scene, the film flashes back to yesterday. 
We are then introduced to a Persian store owner buying a gun for protection of his shop. He is mistaken for Arab when his daughter translates the gun seller’s questions about bullets. Director Haggis continues to turn up the flame – the White District Attorney (Brendan Fraser) and his wife (Sandra Bullock) are car jacked by two Black men and Det. Waters arrives on a police scene where a Black off-duty cop has been shot by a White officer. 
Throughout the film the characters throw out what they believe to be facts when it comes to the races, at times the most outrageous statements are said very cooly. For example, Det. Waters also calls his girlfriend Mexican, who briefly explains that she is of Puerto Rican and El Salvadorian parentage. 
Shortly after, the DA’s wife explodes about having her locks changed by a man she has assumed to be a “gang banger.” We are introduced to a successful Black couple on Ventura Blvd. who get pulled over, and the woman is sexually assaulted by one of the known  racist officers of the LAPD (played by Matt Dillon). His young partner is a fearful witness. Later when he asks to be reassigned, Lt. Dixon admits that he cannot remove the offensive officer because the LAPD is a racist system and refuses to loosen his position, basically as the H.N.I.C. He offers an embarrassing, albeit reasonable option for reassignment: uncontrollable flatulence. 
The movie circles around the intertwined lives like a delicate dance. Most interestingly, none of them know how they will “crash” into each other until it violently happens. All along the scenarios gently beg the question, “What would you do?” Even though the viewer is the spectator, most of the dialogue is reactionary. We see the characters change and attitudes shift as they are brought together again, but as needed allies. 
This shift in the film that occurs shows that we are all just skin, blood, and bones, that we may all be able to “just get along.” It is hope. We see the racist officer save the Black woman (Thandie Newton) he previously assaulted from an overturned vehicle about to explode and the shop owner who shoots a young girl but does not harm her because the gun is full of blanks. Even after we discover that what Det. Waters saw at the beginning of the crime scene was his brother fatally shot (Larenz Tate), that is not where the film ends. A group of Thai captives are released, and there is another car crash. 
Crash does not tell you how to think or feel. It presents characters who are blunt, who turn the other cheek, are both ignorant and educated, and all of the complicated things people are. Plainly we can see that much of the anger is triggered by fear. Specifically, in the storyline of the shop owner who has everything on the line -his family and his business. Even at his best, it his daughter who protects him from himself. We see that racism is never as simple as racial slurs, and it is so deep that it ultimately affects the person and prevents them from living happy, healthy lives. 
Director Paul Haggis does a great job with the film in letting the audience think for themselves, and potentially see themselves in one of the story lines. Most interesting to me is the car jacker Anthony (Chris “Ludacris” Bridges), who is the ultimate contradiction. He leads a life of crime, but is offended by White people who stereotype people of color as violent criminals. He claims that he only robs from White people, painting himself as a vigilante, and calls Hip-hop the music of the oppressor. His actions, however, leave us to wonder – is this self-fulfilling prophecy? Does he commit crime because that is all anyone will believe he does, or because of some real issue within himself? His flashes of intelligence would lead us to believe the latter. 
In contrast, the other half of the car-jacking duo, Peter Waters, has no ill-will towards anyone. He seemingly feels that we do what’s necessary to survive, and yet he is fatally shot by the young officer off duty (Ryan Phillippe), because he recognized him as a car jacker and thought he had a gun. The young officer then sees that he was trying to show him the idol he carried, same as on Officer Hansen’s dash. The twist of fate for both the car jackers illustrates how second chances are given to some, but not all, and is not necessarily based on race. In fact, making race even more complicated in the real world are politics and money. 
No matter how hard we try or how easy it may seem, how people get along based on race does not fit into a neat box. Further, even when race is one day no longer an issue, something else may be. If nothing else, Crash screams to us that we are human – humans make mistakes, humans compete, and humans react violently when afraid. What destroys us can also be what binds. Meditating on all the contradictions may drive you mad, but it is a what makes our connections strong, what makes us want to “crash” into someone else.
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Erin Parks is a writer and digital media professional originally from Athens, Georgia. She has worked on film and television promo projects for HBO, TVLand, and NBC Sports. Parks loves to stay abreast of current events and tech news. You may find more of her work on herdiamondback.com, a site with a mission to redefine feminism. Connect with Erin Parks on Twitter @eparksm.