Author: Stephanie Rogers

Movie Preview: Bad Teacher

There’s so much wrong with this I don’t even know where to start. How about with the plot: “a comedy centered around a foul-mouthed, junior high teacher who, after being dumped by her sugar daddy, begins to woo a colleague–a move that pits her against a well-loved teacher.” 
Ask me if I’m shocked this was written and directed by men. In a three-minute trailer, we manage to get: the dumb blond stereotype, the hot-for-teacher stereotype, the women-in-competition narrative, the women-in-competition-for-men narrative, the golddigger stereotype, the gym-teachers-are-ridiculous stereotype, the homophobic Twilight joke that never gets old, and some fat hatred thrown in for good measure.
I mean, are we supposed to find it so over the top that it’s funny she’s saving up for breast implants by writhing around half-naked at a car wash? (To the delight of junior high boys, no less, because that never gets old in the movies.)  Is it so over the top that it’s funny she thinks getting breast implants is the only way she can land a rich guy she works with?  Is it so over the top it’s funny that the idea of having huge tits is the only thing motivating her to be a good teacher? Am I so utterly lacking a sense of humor that I just. don’t. get it?!
In fact, I’m probably entirely wrong about this film. It’ll probably end up being an astute, intelligent satire on the current conservative agenda to bring down the education system by scapegoating teachers. Yep: astute. intelligent. satire.  Starring Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake. 
See you there, opening night!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Each of the wives deals with the different schools of thought within feminism in ways that roughly align with their ages. The three tell the generational story of feminism, albeit in broad and heavily stereotyped ways.

What’s interesting about the expressions of feminism is that they are happening within a family structure where the husband/father is at the center as the authority. 

Of 4,315 adults across the UK who were surveyed, a clear majority believe cinema too often falls back on discredited stereotypes, including sexless older women, drug dealing, oversexualised black people and gay people whose lives are dominated by their sexuality.

Almost two-thirds of those questioned believe older women are “significantly underrepresented” in films. They are rarely portrayed as sexual beings and are, generally, only given marginal roles, according to the findings, published exclusively in the Guardian today. 

The Fort Lee Film Commission is sponsoring a symposium next month dedicated to the first female filmmaker in cinema history, Alice Guy Blache, as part of the 2011 Garden State Film Festival (GSFF) in Asbury Park, New Jersey. The symposium, Reel Jersey Girls: Alice Guy to Today–a Century of Women in Film, is a key event, said Fort Lee Film Commission executive director Tom Meyers, at what he calls “the largest annual film festival in the state of New Jersey.”

Alice Guy Blache, one of the first three filmmakers in France, began directing in the 1890s. In 1912, Blache came to the then motion picture capital of the world, Fort Lee, and built her $100,000 studio, Solax, on Lemoine Ave. There she produced, wrote ad directed hundreds of films, according to Meyers. 

Whatever the strategy, director Deborah Kampmeier says she hopes that women and men can reach parity in the film industry, because film is so important to our culture. Kampmeier says that “films are the place in society that we really sit around the campfire and tell our stories and make our myths, and really create our future as a society. And 93 percent of those stories are being told by men, and this is a chronic, very unhealthy balance.”

The Group from Papermag: 

It’s a really good time to be young, female, funny, smart–and a little bit weird and awkward. Meet the members of Hollywood’s unlikely new in-crowd.

The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a cute, bubbly, young (usually white) woman who has recently entered the life of our brooding hero to teach him how to loosen up and enjoy life. While that might sound all well and good for the man, this trope leaves women as simply there to support the star on his journey of self discovery with no real life of her own.

Winter’s Bone Q and A from Women and Hollywood: 

Here’s the Q and A from the Athena Film Festival with Debra Granik, Anne Rosellini and moderated by IndieWIRE’s Anne Thompson of Thompson on Hollywood. 

Leave your links in the comments.

Guest Writer Wednesday: The Blind Side: The Most Insulting Movie Ever Made

This cross-post first appeared at Rage Against the Man-chine on June 11, 2010.
Davetavius and I consider ourselves the world’s foremost authorities on watching movies for reasons other than those intended by their producers. As such, we go way beyond just watching “cheesy” (whatever that means) movies, 80s movies, or kung fu movies (which I refuse to watch but which every dork on Earth has been pretending to like in some attempt at letting everyone know how “weird” they are since Quentin Tarantino’s ridiculous ass popularized kung fu movie fandom as the #1 route to instant eccentricity cred in True Romance) to focus our attention on recently-released romantic comedies, those obnoxious movies in which two assholes just sit around and talk to each other for 98 minutes, and “serious” movies for which people have been given gold-plated statuettes. One can learn an awful lot about the faults and failings of our social system and corporate entertainment’s attempts to sell us its version of culture by watching movies created by and for the anti-intelligentsia, and if one were to try hard enough, I’m sure one could find the string that, if tugged, would unravel the modern world system buried somewhere in a melodramatic Best Picture Oscar contender intended to make people who refer to beers as “cold ones” feel like they’re considering The Big Issues. There was no way we were going to miss The Blind Side.
Spoiler alert: this is the worst movie I’ve ever seen, and I’m going to spoil your desire to see it yourself by writing this post. Also, I may, if I can manage to give a fuck, divulge important plot elements. But it’s based on a true story that everyone has already heard anyway, so who cares.

Let me say up front that I’m aware that I’m supposed to feel sorry for Sandra Bullock this week. She’s purported to be “America’s sweetheart” and all, she has always seemed like a fairly decent person (for an actor), and I think her husband deserves to get his wang run over by one of his customized asshole conveyance vehicles, but I’m finding it difficult to feel too bad. I mean, who marries a guy who named himself after a figure from the Old West, has more tattoos than IQ points, and is known for his penchant for rockabilly strippers? Normally I’d absolve Bullock of all responsibility for what has occurred and spend nine paragraphs illustrating the many reasons Jesse James doesn’t deserve to live, but I’ve just received proof in the form of a movie called The Blind Side that Sandra Bullock is in cahoots with Satan, Ronald Reagan’s cryogenically preserved head, the country music industry, and E! in their plot to take over the world by turning us all into (or helping some of us to remain) smug, racist imbeciles.

The movie chronicles the major events in the life of a black NFL player named Michael Oher from the time he meets the rich white family who adopts him to the time that white family sees him drafted into the NFL, a series of events that apparently proves that racism is either over or OK (I’m not sure which), with a ton of southern football bullshit along the way. Bullock plays Leigh Anne Tuohy, the wife of a dude named Sean Tuohy, played by — no shit — Tim McGraw, who is a fairly minor character in the movie despite the fact that he is said to own, like, 90 Taco Bell franchises. The story is that Oher, played by Quinton Aaron, is admitted into a fancy-pants private Christian school despite his lack of legitimate academic records due to the insistence of the school’s football coach and the altruism of the school’s teachers (as if, dude), where he comes into contact with the Tuohy family, who begin to notice that he is sleeping in the school gym and subsisting on popcorn. Ms. Tuohy then invites him to live in the zillion-dollar Memphis Tuophy family compound, encourages him to become the best defensive linebacker he can be by means of cornball familial love metaphors, and teaches him about the nuclear family and the SEC before beaming proudly as he’s drafted by the Baltimore Ravens.

I’m sure that the Tuohy family are lovely people and that they deserve some kind of medal for their good deeds, but if I were a judge, I wouldn’t toss them out of my courtroom should they arrive there bringing a libel suit against whoever wrote, produced, and directed The Blind Side, because it’s handily the dumbest, most racist, most intellectually and politically insulting movie I’ve ever seen, and it makes the Tuohy family — especially their young son S.J. — look like unfathomable assholes. Well, really, it makes all of the white people in the South look like unfathomable assholes. Like these people need any more bad publicity.

Quentin Aaron puts in a pretty awesome performance, if what the director asked him to do was look as pitiful as possible at every moment in order not to scare anyone by being black. Whether that was the goal or not, he certainly did elicit pity from me when Sandra Bullock showed him his new bed and he knitted his brows and, looking at the bed in awe, said, “I’ve never had one of these before.” I mean, the poor bastard had been duped into participating in the creation of a movie that attempts to make bigoted southerners feel good about themselves by telling them that they needn’t worry about poverty or racism because any black person who deserves help will be adopted by a rich family that will provide them with the means to a lucrative NFL contract. Every interaction Aaron and Bullock (or Aaron and anyone else, for that matter) have in the movie is characterized by Aaron’s wretched obsequiousness and the feeling that you’re being bludgeoned over the head with the message that you needn’t fear this black guy. It’s the least dignified role for a black actor since Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s portrayal of James Robert Kennedy in Radio (a movie Davetavius claims ought to have the subtitle “It’s OK to be black in the South as long as you’re retarded.”). The producers, writers, and director of this movie have managed to tell a story about class, race, and the failures of capitalism and “democratic” politics to ameliorate the conditions poor people of color have to deal with by any means other than sports while scrupulously avoiding analyzing any of those issues and while making it possible for the audience to walk out of the theater with their selfish, privileged, entitled worldviews intact, unscathed, and soundly reconfirmed.

Then there’s all of the southern bullshit, foremost of which is the football element. The producers of the movie purposely made time for cameos by about fifteen SEC football coaches in order to ensure that everyone south of the Mason-Dixon line would drop their $9 in the pot, and the positive representation of football culture in the film is second in phoniness only to the TV version of Friday Night Lights. Actually, fuck that. It’s worse. Let’s be serious. If this kid had showed no aptitude for football, is there any way in hell he’d have been admitted to a private school without the preparation he’d need to succeed there or any money? In the film, the teachers at the school generously give of their private time to tutor Oher and help prepare him to attend classes with the other students. I’ll bet you $12 that shit did not occur in real life. In fact, I know it didn’t. The Tuohy family may or may not have cared whether the kid could play football, but the school certainly did. It is, after all, a southern school, and high school football is a bigger deal in the South than weed is at Bonnaroo.

But what would have happened to Oher outside of school had he sucked at football and hence been useless to white southerners? What’s the remedy for poverty if you’re a black woman? A dude with no pigskin skills? Where are the nacho magnates to adopt those black people? I mean, that’s the solution for everything, right? For all black people to be adopted by rich, paternalistic white people? I know this may come as a shock to some white people out there, but the NFL cannot accommodate every black dude in America, and hence is an imperfect solution to social inequality. I know we have the NBA too, but I still see a problem. But the Blind Side fan already has an answer for me. You see, there is a scene in the movie which illustrates that only some black people deserve to be adopted by wealthy white women. Bullock, when out looking for Oher, finds herself confronted with a black guy who not only isn’t very good at appearing pitiful in order to make her comfortable, but who has an attitude and threatens to shoot Oher if he sees him. What ensues is quite possibly the most loathsome scene in movie history in which Sandra Bullock gets in the guy’s face, rattles off the specs of the gun she carries in her purse, and announces that she’s a member of the NRA and will shoot his ass if he comes anywhere near her family, “bitch.” Best Actress Oscar.

Well, there it is. Now you see why this movie made 19 kajillion dollars and won an Oscar: it tells a heartwarming tale of white benevolence, assures the red state dweller that his theory that “there’s black people, and then there’s niggers” is right on, and affords him the chance to vicariously remind a black guy who’s boss thr0ugh the person of America’s sweetheart. Just fucking revolting.

There are several other cringe-inducing elements in the film. The precocious, cutesy antics of the family’s little son, S.J., for example. He’s constantly making dumb-ass smart-ass comments, cloyingly hip-hopping out with Oher to the tune of  Young M.C.’s “Bust a Move” (a song that has been overplayed and passe for ten years but has now joined “Ice Ice Baby” at the top of the list of songs from junior high that I never want to hear again), and generally trying to be a much more asshole-ish version of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. At what point will screenwriters realize that everyone wants to punch pint-sized snarky movie characters in the throat? And when will I feel safe watching a movie in the knowledge that I won’t have to endure a scene in which a white dork or cartoon character “raises the roof” and affects a buffalo stance while mouthing a sanitized rap song that even John Ashcroft knows the words to?

And then there’s the scene in which Tim McGraw, upon meeting his adopted son’s tutor (played by Kathy Bates) and finding out she’s a Democrat, says, “Who would’ve thought I’d have a black son before I met a Democrat?” Who would have thought I’d ever hear a “joke” that was less funny and more retch-inducing than Bill Engvall’s material?

What was the intended message of this film? It won an Oscar, so I know it had to have a message, but what could it have been? I’ve got it (a suggestion from Davetavius)! The message is this: don’t buy more than one Taco Bell franchise or you’ll have to adopt a black guy. I’ll accept that that’s the intended message of the film, because if  the actual message that came across in the movie was intentional, I may have to hide in the house for the rest of my life.

I just don’t even know what to say about this movie. Watching it may well have been one of the most demoralizing, discouraging experiences of my life, and it removed at least 35% of the hope I’d previously had that this country had any hope of ever being anything but a cultural and social embarrassment. Do yourself a favor. Skip it and watch Welcome to the Dollhouse again.

Nine Deuce blogs at Rage Against the Man-chine. From her bio: I basically go off, dude. People all over the internet call me rad. They call me fem, too, but I’m not all that fem. I mean, I’m female and I have long hair and shit, but that’s just because I’m into Black Sabbath. I don’t have any mini-skirts, high heels, thongs, or lipstick or anything, and I often worry people with my decidedly un-fem behavior. I’m basically a “man” trapped in a woman’s body. What I mean is that, like a person with a penis, I act like a human being and expect other people to treat me like one even though I have a vagina.

Miniseries Preview: Mildred Pierce

Mildred Pierce, the new miniseries from HBO starring Kate Winslet, Evan Rachel Wood, and Guy Pearce, premieres Sunday, March 27th at 9pm. The miniseries is based on the novel by James M. Cain, with a hat-tip, I’m sure, to the 1945 film of the same name, which won Joan Crawford a Best Actress Academy Award for her performance in the title role. 
From the wikipedia plot summary (of the novel): 
Set in Glendale, California, in the 1930s, Mildred Pierce is the story of a middle-class housewife’s attempt to maintain her and her family’s social position during the Great Depression. Frustrated by her unemployed cheating husband, and worried by their dwindling finances, Mildred separates from him and sets out to support herself and her children on her own.

After a difficult search, she finally finds a job as a waitress, but she worries that it is beneath her middle-class station. Actually, Mildred worries more that her ambitious elder daughter, Veda, will think her new job is demeaning. Mildred encounters both success and tragedy, opening three successful restaurants and operating a pie-selling business, and coping with the death of her younger daughter, Ray. Veda enjoys Mildred’s newfound financial success, but increasingly turns ungrateful, demanding more and more from her hard-working mother and letting her contempt for people who must work for a living be known. Mildred’s attachment to Veda forms the central tragedy in the novel. 

The miniseries has been getting great reviews. Dan Callahan of Slant Magazine writes:
…Mildred Pierce is a triumph from beginning to end, and the casting in supporting roles couldn’t be bettered: Melissa Leo does her best Aline MacMahon as Mildred’s next-door neighbor Mrs. Gessler, while Mare Winningham seems to have sprung straight out of a 1930s diner as Ida (in the Crawford version, the sardonic Eve Arden played Ida like a valued secretary doing a bit of slumming in the restaurant trade). Haynes lets his female characters operate as they would have at the time in this milieu. He doesn’t do any modern editorializing on their plight and he doesn’t outright celebrate their resourcefulness; instead, he sets up a panorama of female struggle and solidarity and views it distantly, like somebody writing a history book and trying to keep personal opinions out of it.

And Dennis Lim of the New York Times discusses Todd Haynes’s affinity for “the woman’s picture”:
Asked recently about his longstanding attraction to the melodramatic form known as the woman’s picture–“the untouchable of film genres,” as the critic Molly Haskell once put it–the director Todd Haynes had a ready answer.

“Stories about women in houses are the real stories of our lives,” he said. “They really tell what all of us experience in one way or another because they’re stories of family and love and basic relationships and disappointments.”

Lim later writes: 

Framed as a whodunit–it opens with the killing of Mildred’s second husband, the rakish Monty Beragon–the original “Mildred Pierce” has long been a staple of feminist film theory, which generally views it as a conflicted genre hybrid that combines the masculine conventions of film noir and the feminine ones of melodrama.

I haven’t seen the Joan Crawford film or read the book, but I’m aware of the feminist and queer discussions of the first film. I’m excited that HBO has decided to turn this into a five-part miniseries, too, because I’m starting to wonder (especially after reading Total Film’s ridiculous list of the Greatest Female Characters) if television might offer more opportunity for complex women–and feminist–characters to shine. (I’ve been thinking about HBO shows in particular, like Big Love, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, and Deadwood, but Showtime certainly doesn’t shy away from strong women, with shows like Nurse Jackie and The United States of Tara, which both have season premieres on Monday, the 28th. I also wouldn’t rule out the latest season of Dexter–because it took on some serious feminist issues as well. But, alas, this is all for another long-ass blog post.) 
In the meantime, here’s to hoping Mildred Pierce doesn’t disappoint! 

Seriously? These Are the 100 Greatest Female Characters?

This past Monday, Total Film published its list of the 100 Greatest Female Characters. As everyone knows, these Best Ever lists tend to have the pretty obvious problem of not being able to include everyone and, therefore, not being able to please everyone. But we here at Bitch Flicks found this particular list more problematic than usual. For a variety of reasons. Before we discuss the WTF-FAIL of this, check out the list below and/or scroll through the photo-list at Total Film (especially if you’re interested in their use of sexist language and images).

100. Baby from Dirty Dancing, played by Jennifer Grey
99. Cherry Darling from Planet Terror, played by Rose McGowan
98. Vivian Ward from Pretty Woman, played by Julia Roberts
97. Samantha Baker from Sixteen Candles, played by Molly Ringwald
96. Stifler’s Mom from American Pie, played by Jennifer Coolidge
95. Layla from Buffalo ’66, played by Christina Ricci
94. Marquise de Merteuil from Dangerous Liaisons, played by Glenn Close
93. Karen Silkwood from Silkwood, played by Meryl Streep
92. Marnie Edgar from Marnie, played by Tippi Hedren
91. Briony Tallis from Atonement, played by Saoirse Ronan
90. Gertie from E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, played by Drew Barrymore
89. Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca, played by Judith Anderson
88. Jean Brodie from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, played by Maggie Smith
87. Malena Scordia from Malena, played by Monica Bellucci
86. Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors, voiced by Levi Stubbs
85. Gilda Mundson Farrell from Gilda, played by Rita Hayworth
84. Matty Walker from Body Heat, played by Kathleen Turner
83. Annie Savoy from Bull Durham, played by Susan Sarandon
82. Severine Serizy from Belle Du Jour, played by Catherine Deneuve
81. Gloria Swenson from Gloria, played by Gena Rowlands
80. Catherine Tramell from Basic Instinct, played by Sharon Stone
79. Phyllis Dietrichson from Double Indemnity, played by Barbara Stanwyck
78. Bess McNeill from Breaking the Waves, played by Emily Watson
77. Thelma Dickinson from Thelma and Louise, played by Geena Davis
76. Alabama Whitman from True Romance, played by Patricia Arquette
75. Coraline from Coraline, voiced by Dakota Fanning
74. Annie Porter from Speed, played by Sandra Bullock
73. Kate “Ma” Barker from Bloody Mama, played by Shelley Winters
72. Marge Gunderson from Fargo, played by Frances McDormand
71. Elisabet Vogler from Persona, played by Liv Ullmann
70. Sally Albright from When Harry Met Sally, played by Meg Ryan
69. Bonnie Parker from Bonnie and Clyde, played by Faye Dunaway
68. Ada McGrath from The Piano, played by Holly Hunter
67. Soshanna Dreyfus from Inglourious Basterds, played by Melanie Laurent
66. Alice Hyatt from Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, played by Ellen Burstyn
65. Lee Holloway from Secretary, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal
64. Barbarella from Barbarella, played by Jane Fonda
63. Annie Wilkes from Misery, played by Kathy Bates
62. Sylvia from La Dolce Vita, played by Anika Ekberg
61. Regan MacNeil from The Exorcist, played by Linda Blair
60. Mary Poppins from Mary Poppins, played by Julie Andrews
59. Mildred Pierce from Mildred Pierce, played by Joan Crawford
58. Margo Channing from All About Eve, played by Bette Davis
57. Adrian Pennino Balboa from Rocky, played by Talia Shire
56. Nikita from La Femme Nikita, played by Anne Parillaud
55. “Baby” Jane Hudson from Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, played by Bette Davis
54. Summer Finn from 500 Days of Summer, played by Zooey Deschanel
53. Judy Barton/Madeleine Elster from Vertigo, played by Kim Novak
52. Debby Marsh from The Big Heat, played by Gloria Grahame
51. Amelie from Amelie, played by Audrey Tautou
50. Jessie from Toy Story 2, voiced by Joan Cusack
49. Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, played by Louise Fletcher
48. Alex Forrest from Fatal Attraction, played by Glenn Close
47. Evelyn Mulwray from Chinatown, played by Faye Dunaway
46. Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire, played by Vivien Leigh
45. Paikea Apirana from Whale Rider, played by Keisha Castle-Hughes
44. Charlotte from Lost In Translation, played by Scarlett Johansen
43. Ofelia from Pan’s Labyrinth, played by Ivan Baquero
42. Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums, played by Gwyneth Paltrow
41. Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, played by Audrey Hepburn
40. Mindy “Hit Girl” Macready from Kick-Ass, played by Chloe Moretz
39. Chihiro Ogino from Spirited Away, voiced by Rumi Hiragi
38. Mia Williams from Fish Tank, played by Katie Jarvis
37. Jessica Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, voiced by Kathleen Turner
36. Older Daughter from Dogtooth, played by Aggeliki Papoulia
35. Ursa from Superman II, played by Sarah Douglas
34. Ann Darrow from King Kong, played by Fay Wray
33. Betty Elms/Diane Selwyn from Mulholland Dr., played by Naomi Watts
32. Scarlett O’Hara from Gone With the Wind, played by Vivien Leigh
31. Coffy from Coffy, played by Pam Grier
30. Kym from Rachel Getting Married, played by Anne Hathaway
29. Trinity from The Matrix, played by Carrie-Anne Moss
28. Lady from Lady and the Tramp, voiced by Barbara Luddy
27. Louise Sawyer from Thelma and Louise, played by Susan Sarandon
26. Nina Sayers from Black Swan, played by Natalie Portman
25. Enid from Ghost World, played by Thora Birch
24. Rosemary Woodhouse from Rosemary’s Baby, played by Mia Farrow
23. Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate, played by Anne Bancroft
22. Dory from Finding Nemo, voiced by Ellen Degeneres
21. Veronica Sawyer from Heathers, played by Winona Ryder
20. Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, played by Uma Thurman
19. Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs, played by Jodie Foster
18. Laurie Strode from Halloween, played by Jamie Lee Curtis
17. Carrie White from Carrie, played by Sissy Spacek
16. Bridget Gregory from The Last Seduction, played by Linda Fiorentino
15. Catwoman from Batman Returns, played by Michelle Pfeiffer
14. Matilda from The Professional, played by Natalie Portman
13. Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, played by Noomi Rapace
12. Jackie Brown from Jackie Brown, played by Pam Grier
11. Eli from Let the Right One In, played by Lina Leandersson
10. Sugar Kane Kowalczyk from Some Like It Hot, played by Marilyn Monroe
9. Hildy Johnson from His Girl Friday, played by Rosalind Russell
8. The Bride from Kill Bill, played by Uma Thurman
7. Hermione Granger from Harry Potter, played by Emma Watson
6. Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz, played by Judy Garland
5. Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars, played by Carrie Fisher
4. Clementine Kruczynski from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, played by Kate Winslet
3. Sarah Connor from The Terminator, played by Linda Hamilton
2. Annie Hall from Annie Hall, played by Diane Keaton
1. Ellen Ripley from Alien, played by Sigourney Weaver

Well. Let’s discuss the most ridiculous, WTF-FAIL elements of this list.
1. 7% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters are–wait for it–not human. We’ve got Audrey 2 the plant; Coraline the cartoon girl; Jessie the cartoon cowgirl; Chihiro Ogino the cartoon girl; Jessica Rabbit the (sexy) cartoon rabbit; Lady the dog; and Dory the fish. And only three of these seven Greatest Female Characters are even animated humans. The rest are animals. And one, the plant, is voiced by a man. 
2. Only 5% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters were directed by women, and that includes a co-director credit (Andy and Lana Wachowski) for The Matrix. The other woman-directed films include Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, Jane Campion’s The Piano, Niki Caro’s Whale Rider, and Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation. Maybe I shouldn’t be so appalled by this statistic, considering how difficult it is for women directors to get their films made in general. But seriously, 5%?
3. What’s up with all the children and teenagers on this list? Am I really supposed to believe that, in the history of film, 20% of the Greatest Female Characters were younger than twenty? I know ageism in Hollywood is bad, but that doesn’t mean amazing women characters over forty don’t exist. And I mean in addition to Stifler’s Mom (MILF!) from American Pie, who Total Film so graciously remembered to include. Just sayin,’ list compilers, if you were really hard-pressed, you could’ve checked to see if any women of color have ever acted in films.
4. Why is this list so fucking white? I’m not familiar with every movie or every movie character on the list, but I know I’m having a hard time finding nonwhite women. Pam Grier’s two blaxploitation characters, Jackie Brown and Coffy, jump out right away, and I’m fairly confident that’s not a good thing. Is Pam Grier the only black actress the Total Film list compilers are familiar with? Because, I mean, off the top of my head I’ve got: Whoopi Goldberg in The Color Purple, Queen Latifah in Chicago, Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls, Angela Bassett in What’s Love Got to Do With It?, Halle Berry in anything …
5. You know what’s also interesting about those characters I just listed? None of them is completely deranged (Mrs. Danvers, Annie Wilkes, Alex Forrest.)  Or a prostitute (Vivian Ward, Severine Serizy, Alabama Whitman.)  Or a Fighting Fuck Toy (Barbarella, Catwoman, Cherry Darling.) Or a seductress (Marquise de Merteuil, Matty Walker, Annie Savoy.) And I’m not even suggesting that prostitutes and deranged women and seductresses and fighting fuck toys (okay, maybe them) are all necessarily terrible characters. But many of these characters, and the films they inhabit, have been deemed antifeminist as fuck.  
Basically, compiling a slew of antifeminist characters from antifeminist films and putting them on a list called The 100 Greatest Female Characters–while ironic–is kind of unacceptable. I’ve only barely grazed the surface of this nonsense. If you want to see some really messed up statistics surrounding this list, check out The Double R Diner for a much more in-depth analysis, including a look at the many characters who are victims of violence and sexual assault. 

So, readers, what female characters would you include on a list of the 100 Greatest?

On Rape, the Media, and the ‘New York Times’ Clusterfuck

the-new-york-times1
On Tuesday, March 8, The New York Times published an article by James C. McKinley Jr. titled, “Vicious Assault Shakes Texas Town.” Eighteen men held down an 11-year-old girl and repeatedly raped her in an abandoned trailer while recording the rape with cell phones. Much has been written about McKinley’s—and the New York Times’—irresponsible, victim-blaming, rape culture-enforcing report of the rape.  Or should I say lack of report of the rape. While the entire article is a catastrophic joke, this paragraph warrants specific mention:
Residents in the neighborhood where the abandoned trailer stands—known as the Quarters—said the victim had been visiting various friends there for months. They said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.
Shakesville breaks down the story, and it’s a must-read piece. The writer points out, “Nowhere in this story is the following made clear: … that our compassion and care should be directed first and foremost toward the victim rather than the boys, the school, the community, or anyone else.”  The NYT piece is such an obvious case of victim-blaming, and terrifyingly unapologetic, that it wasn’t surprising to see an immediate petition go up at change.org, “Tell the New York Times to Apologize for Blaming a Child for Her Gang Rape.” The creator of the petition, Shelby Knox, writes, “1 in 4 American women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. A culture that blames victims for being raped—for what they were wearing, where they were, and who they were with—rather than blaming the rapist, is a culture that tacitly condones rape.” As of now 43,820 people have signed the petition, and Arthur S. Brisbane of the New York Times has issued an apology—not without its flaws—regarding the lack of balance in the piece.
*****
That apology should’ve felt good to read. But about an hour before it was issued, I’d posted the petition on my Facebook wall, urging friends to sign it. And this was one of the first responses:

Actually…no. I just read the “offending” comments of Mr. McKinley. The complaint is that he “gave ink” to the opinions of some idiots from Texas? He’s a reporter for Christ’s sake. He’s SUPPOSED to present all angles of the story. Looks like responsible journalism to me. Attack the idiots in Texas for this. Attack the wretched perpetrators. Why in the world is anyone mad at The New York Times for telling the whole story? If anything its GOOD that they reported on those folks as well. Its important for people to know that there are idiots like that everywhere. This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country. Let the public burning commence. I’ll be tied to the stake willingly. =)

Another person immediately agreed.  Thankfully, others jumped in to defend the petition, but I didn’t walk away from the thread feeling good about it. I felt defeated. Exhausted. Like I might burst into tears. So when the NYT finally got around to “apologizing” for publishing an article that never should’ve seen the light of day to begin with, I wanted to revel in the success of a group of people coming together to affect change. I couldn’t, though. And I started to think about why I couldn’t.
*****
The same day the New York Times published its story, the newspaper in my hometown published a report of another young girl’s rape, “Man accused of raping 12-year-old girl.” I read the opening paragraph: “A Middletown man has been charged with rape and intimidation of a witness after allegedly conducting a sexual relationship with a 12-year-old girl.” I read it again … “a sexual relationship” … “with a 12-year-old girl.”  I kept reading … “accused of having sex with a child younger than the age of 12” … “alleged abuse of the female juvenile.”What the hell? A child cannot consent to sex. Ever. Under any circumstance. So how does a man conduct a sexual relationship with her? How does a man have sex with her? And why does “the girl” suddenly become “the female juvenile”?  If I’d ever gone a moment without thinking about Rape Culture (and it’s hard to do), two newspaper articles published back to back—discussing the rapes of two girls as if one girl could consent to having sex with a man, while another could facilitate her own fucking gang rape—would make sure I spent a good few days and nights obsessing about the most recent media onslaught of violence against women.
*****
Three years ago, on March 28, 2008, Amber and I started Bitch Flicks. We respected blogs like Women and Hollywood that focus on women in film and explore how difficult it is for women to navigate the sexist terrain of Hollywood. And we wanted to be a part of that conversation, by looking closely at how popular films, television, music videos, movie posters, and other forms of media contribute to misogyny, violence against women, and unattainable beauty ideals. Because more than anything, we believe the blind and uncritical consumption of media portrayals of women contributes to furthering women’s inequality in all areas of life.

And we’ve noticed a few things here and there: rape being played for laughs in Observe and Report; the sexual trafficking of women used as a plot device in Taken; the constant dismemberment of women in movie posters; the damaging caricatures of women as sex objects in Black Snake Moan and The Social Network; and we’ve often pointed to discussions of sexism and misogyny around the net, like the sexual violence in Antichrist and, most recently, the sexualized corpses of women in Kanye West’s Monster video. It barely grazes the surface. I mean, it barely grazes the fucking surface of what a viewer sees during the commercial breaks of a 30-minute sitcom.

Yet, this constant, unchecked barrage of endless and obvious woman-hating undoubtedly contributes to the rape of women and girls.

The sudden idealization of Charlie Sheen as some bad boy to be envied, even though he has a violent history of beating up women, contributes to the rape of women and girls. Bills like H. R. 3 that seek to redefine rape and further the attack on women’s reproductive rights contributes to the rape of women and girls. Supposed liberal media personalities like Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann showing their support for Julian Assange by denigrating Assange’s alleged rape victims contributes to the rape of women and girls. The sexist commercials that advertisers pay millions of dollars to air on Super Bowl Sunday contribute to the rape of women and girls. And blaming Lara Logan for her gang rape by suggesting her attractiveness caused it, or the job was too dangerous for her, or she shouldn’t have been there in the first place, contributes to the rape of women and girls.

It contributes to rape because it normalizes violence against women. Men rape to control, to overpower, to humiliate, to reinforce the patriarchal structure. And the media, which is vastly controlled by men, participates in reproducing already existing prejudices and inequalities, rather than seeking to transform them.
And it pisses me off.
*****
“This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country.” I decided to respond to that portion of my friend’s Facebook comment by quoting a passage from a piece on Shakesville called, “Feminism 101: ‘Feminists Look for Stuff to Get Mad About,'” in which Melissa McEwan makes the following argument:
 … in a very real way, ignoring “the little things” in favor of “the big stuff” makes the big stuff that much harder to eradicate, because it is the pervasive, ubiquitous, inescapable little things that create the foundation of a sexist culture on which the big stuff is dependent for its survival. It’s the little things, the constant drumbeat of inequality and objectification, that inure us to increasingly horrible acts and attitudes toward women.
People can argue that “the little things” are less important to point out than “the big things” all they want to. They can accuse feminists of misplaced anger, irrationality, man-hating, overreaction.  But the reality is that violence against women has become so commonplace in film and television, in advertising, in stand-up fucking “comedy,” in video games, that it’s the absolute default treatment of women in media, and we can’t pretend that doesn’t extend to how women are treated in the rest of society. It contributes to rape.  And it certainly contributes to a “liberal” newspaper’s inability to effectively report an 11-year-old girl’s gang rape without victim-blaming and slut-shaming, which, incidentally, also contributes to rape.
So. I gave myself a break. I let myself feel shitty and helpless for a minute. I’m over it now and ready to fight back. Stay tuned for our regularly scheduled programming …

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

The general media obsession with Mirren’s sex life has been replaced these days by a kind of awe, no less misogynistic, that a woman in her 60s can look attractive and happy. At 65, Mirren is adored and venerated; if it’s true that, after being made a Dame in 2003 and winning an Oscar in 2007 for playing the title role in The Queen, she has become that dreaded property, a national treasure, then at least she is one with plenty of sharp edges capable of giving you a painful nick if you’re not careful.

Feminism has gotten somewhat of a bad rap lately. Many people feel that it’s outlived its goals. Don’t women have equal rights now? What is there to complain about? The answer to this is that just giving people the legal possibility to do something doesn’t mean you are genuinely opening opportunities for them. Saying that giving people equal rights leads to them instantly being regarded as equals is like saying that giving African-Americans the right to vote ended racism in America. But what has all this to do with movies? Well, feminism isn’t just a political movement, but also an academic one. And yes, there is something like feminist film theory.

Feminism Friday: Any Woman Worth Her Salt from Blazing Modesty Changes the World
Not so for the moment a little earlier when, after spraying CCTV cameras with a fire extinguisher to cover the lens, she inexplicably, with the fire extinguisher still to hand, whips off her knickers to block the final camera.  This she can do easily and a million times more gracefully than any knicker removal I’ve seen or executed in real life, thanks to the massive slit in the tight skirt she wears to her office job in the CIA.  I can’t believe Jolie even did it, really.  I’d have been tempted to punch the director in the face.  There’s also a questionable moment at the beginning of the film when she’s learning to fold napkins for her anniversary dinner with her husband.  I find it very hard to believe this was part of the original script, and while the function of the episode is clearly to establish the husband and the occasion, this would never have been written for the character as Cruise would have played it.

A Question of Habit from Whalen Films
In the February 23, 2008 episode of Saturday Night Live, Tina Fey made a seemingly serious case for Hillary Clinton as president, arguing that we shouldn’t mind if she’s a bitch because “bitches get stuff done.” Fey went on to bolster her argument with the following observation: “That’s why Catholic schools use nuns as teachers and not priests. Those nuns are mean old clams, and they sleep on cots and are allowed to hit you. And at the end of the school year, you hated those bitches, but you knew the capital of Vermont.” How did nuns become part of this discussion? And how did they get reduced from the historical reality of their significant contributions to such a narrow and nasty caricature?

Shortly after the Oscars ended Sunday, Samuel L. Jackson sent an e-mail to a Times reporter wondering why no black men had been chosen to present awards on the film world’s biggest stage.

“It’s obvious there’s not ONE Black male actor in Hollywood that’s able to read a teleprompter, or that’s ‘hip enuf,’ for the new academy demographic!” Jackson wrote. “In the Hollywood I saw tonite, I don’t exist nor does Denzel, Eddie, Will, Jamie, or even a young comer like Anthony Mackie!”

Jackson may be on to something, at least when it comes to the young comers.

For me, this frustration is usually borne of being othered and disrespected, when I simply aimed to be entertained by a trashy novel or TV show. I dipped into Charlaine Harris’ Aurora Teagarden series, hoping to enjoy the books as I enjoy the TV series based on Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse series. Instead, I got a bunch of thinly-written, triggering stories where all women (but the protagonist) are routinely judged harshly and women like me (black women) are alternately sassy or angry or dead or running from the law, and blackness or Jewishness or gayness or any other “ness” that is not small-town and conservative and Southern and Anglo and Christian is to be frowned at or remarked upon or, best, hidden. And so, instead of enjoying a cozy mystery in my downtime, I wound up feeling uncomfortable and marginalized.

I dislike SATC for the way it forced its central characters into stereotypes. To service those stereotypes for the sake of a storyline. Chris Noth was the tall-dark-and-handsome wealthy man. Kim Cattrall the over-sexed hyper-assertive female who had to stumble over failed romances or personal trauma (breast cancer) to show her sensitivity. Cynthia Nixon is the cynical New York career-woman. Kristen Davis the doe-eyed, Rules playing, sweater-set wearing woman on a mission for the nuclear family and nothing else. Sarah Jessica Parker is the child who plays dress-up, even in her marriage, trying on costumes in the hopes that they’ll make her lifestyle complete. These roles needed to be boldly and sharply drawn in oder to parody or even slay some of the stereotypes of women.

At a do last year to crown Lennox Barclays Woman of the Year, barely half the roomful of 450 of Britain’s brightest women admitted to being a feminist. Lennox was disgusted. “They were afraid,” she says. In a sort of stream of consciousness ramble, she adds: “The word feminism needs to be taken back. It needs to be reclaimed in a way that is inclusive of men. Men need to understand, and women too, what feminism is really about. And it is not the parody that it has been diminished and turned into, and it is not this parody about whether you burn your bra or shave your armpits or whatever. That’s just nonsense. Actually it’s a red herring. It’s really disgraceful that it has become the kind of dumbing down of something that has to do with human rights, social and political values – and where we’re going as a world that is dominated by war and strife. And young women being born still have no rights over what is done to their bodies.”

Thelma and Louise came out in May of 1991 and change was in the air.  The film touched a raw nerve in women that had been lying dormant during the Reagan backlash years.  It became a cultural touchstone, was on covers of magazines, and got both Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon Academy Award nominations.  Geena Davis tells stories of women seeing her on the road and honking at her and thanking her for the film.  But here we are 20 years later and it feels like that film was never made.

Today, it’s time to look back at ten women who’ve made cinematic history. I won’t claim that this ten constitutes the “best,” because to do so would immediately detract from the hundreds and thousands of women developing cinema worldwide. These are, quite simply, ten women you should be familiar with. Some have the honor of “first,” while others have left an indelible impact on the industry.

Consider this your springboard to a rich history of female talent.

On the silver screen women are usually seen as a helpless mother, submissive wife, devoted girlfriend, overcaring sister, daughter or a vamp, but directors like Vishal Bharadwaj and Alankrita Shrivastava are trying to break the mould and present women in a more realistic, vibrant and unconventional way.

One-film-old Rajkumar Gupta’s “No One Killed Jessica” was an attempt to bring alive the struggle of Sabrina Lall’s fight with the Indian judiciary for years to get justice for her murdered sister.

Kathryn Bigelow may have been the first female filmmaker to win a Best Director Oscar for 2009′s The Hurt Locker. But did you happen to notice that for the most recent Academy Awards, the nominees in the same category were all men — in a year when two movies directed by women, Winter’s Bone and The Kids Are All Right, were up for Best Picture?

Gender inequalities exist throughout the arts, but they’re especially pronounced in the rarefied world of film directing. We all know a few big-name women filmmakers: Bigelow, Sofia Coppola, Susan Seidelman, Catherine Hardwicke, Nora Ephron, Julie Taymor. In honor of International Women’s Day, we present ten great, contemporary female directors who you may not know but should definitely check out.

The key to the influence of film is HOW film is used to represent violence against women to the masses. The key is to see film as a tool:

Done well, a powerful documentary, movie, public service announcement, music video or television episode can give might momentum to helping activists and nonprofits working to end violence against women motivate grassroots support for the cause.

Done right, the film-maker will be able to walk the balancing act of accurately depict the horrors of violence against women while inspiring the viewer to join the movement to end violence against women.

 SHARE YOUR LINKS!

Oscar Acceptance Speeches: Honoring Other Women

One of the things I’ve always loved and admired about the award acceptance speeches by women is how often they mention other women. Kate Winslet, accepting her Oscar for The Reader, joked, “I don’t think any of us can believe we’re in a category with Meryl Streep.” And Sandra Bullock, accepting her Oscar for The Blind Side, turned to each of her fellow nominees one by one and congratulated them. It’s something we rarely see from the men who win awards, and I admire that women openly acknowledge the necessity of sisterhood, especially during a male-dominated event (like any awards presentation for film, ever) that so often neglects the contributions of women. Here are a few of my favorites from the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress:


1992: Jodie Foster, winning Best Actress for The Silence of the Lambs

This has been such an incredible year. and I’d like to dedicate this award to all of the women who came before me who never had the chances that I’ve had, and the survivors and the pioneers and the outcasts; and my blood, my tradition. And I’d like to thank all of the people in this industry who have respected my choices and who have not been afraid of the power and the dignity that that entitled me to … And thank the Academy for embracing such an incredibly strong and beautiful feminist hero that I am so proud of.


1993: Emma Thompson, winning Best Actress for Howards End

And finally I would like, if I may, to dedicate this Oscar to the heroism and the courage of women, and to hope that it inspires the creation of more true screen heroines to represent them.





1997: Frances McDormand, winning Best Actress for Fargo

It is impossible to maintain one’s composure in this situation. What am I doing here? Especially considering the extraordinary group of women with whom I was nominated. We five women were fortunate to have the choice, not just the opportunity, but the choice, to play such rich, complex female characters. And I congratulate producers like Working Title and Polygram for allowing directors to make autonomous casting decisions based on qualifications and not just market value. And I encourage writers and directors to keep these really interesting female roles coming, and while you’re at it, you can throw in a few for the men as well.

2001: Julia Roberts, winning Best Actress for Erin Brockovich

I would like to start with telling you all how amazing the experience of feeling the sisterhood of being included in a group with Joan Allen and Juliette Binoche and Laura Linney and Ellen Burstyn for these last weeks has been. It’s just felt like such a triumph to me to be in that list. My name starts with “R” so I’m always last, but I still love the list.



2002: Halle Berry, winning Best Actress for Monster’s Ball

This moment is so much bigger than me. This moment is for Dorothy Dandridge, Lena Horne, Diahann Carroll. It’s for the women that stand beside me, Jada Pinkett, Angela Bassett, Vivica Fox. And it’s for every nameless, faceless woman of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened.  



2006: Reese Witherspoon, winning Best Actress for Walk the Line

A very special thank you to Jim Mangold who directed the film and also wrote this character who is a real woman who has dignity and honor and fear and courage. And she’s a real woman, and I really appreciate that. It was an incredible gift that you gave me, so thank you … And I want to say that my grandmother was one of the biggest inspirations in my life. She taught me how to be a real woman, to have strength and self-respect, and to never give those things away. 


2007: Helen Mirren, winning Best Actress for The Queen

Now, you know for fifty years and more Elizabeth Windsor has maintained her dignity, her sense of duty, and her hairstyle. She’s had her feet planted firmly on the ground, her hat on her head, her handbag on her arm, and she’s weathered many, many storms. And I salute her courage and her consistency, and I thank her, because if it wasn’t for her, I most, most certainly would not be here.


2010: Sandra Bullock, winning Best Actress for The Blind Side(read our review)

I would like to thank the Academy for allowing me in the last month to have the most incredible ride, with rooms full of artists that I see tonight and that I’ve worked with before and I hope to work with in the future, who inspire me and blaze trails for us. Four of them, that I’ve fallen deeply in love with, I share this night with and I share this award with. Gabby, I love you so much. You are exquisite. You are beyond words to me. Carey, your grace and your elegance and your beauty and your talent makes me sick. Helen, I feel like we are family, and I don’t have the words to express what I think of you. And Meryl, you know what I think of you, and you are such a good kisser … 

But there’s so many people to thank, not enough time. So I would like to thank what this film was about for me, which are the moms that take care of the babies and the children no matter where they come from. Those moms and parents never get thanked. I, in particular, failed to thank one. So, if I can take this moment to thank Helga B. for not letting me ride in cars with boys till I was eighteen, ’cause she was right; I would’ve done what she said I was gonna do. For making me practice every day when I got home, piano, ballet, whatever it is I wanted to be. She said to be an artist you had to practice every day. And for reminding her daughters that there’s no race, no religion, no class system, no color, nothing, no sexual orientation, that makes us better than anyone else. We are all deserving of love. 

So, to that trailblazer who allowed me to have that, and this [referring to the Oscar], and this, I thank you so much for this opportunity that I share with these extraordinary women, and my lover Meryl Streep. Thank you.

2010: Mo’Nique, winning Best Supporting Actress for Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (read our review)

First, I would like to thank the Academy for showing that it can be about the performance and not the politics. I want to thank Miss Hattie McDaniel for enduring all that she had to so that I wouldn’t have to.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

At home (and away) with Agnes Varda from BFI

The Day the Movies Died from GQ

Why are films so sexist? from Ad Fontes

Hall Pass: I apologize to my mother for the review I’m about to write from Slate

The ‘Blue Valentine’ Conundrum: Why So Many Boring Women In Indie Film? from The Atlantic

James Cameron the Feminist? from AMC Blog

Young Rapping Girls Call Out Lil Wayne for Misogyny from Jezebel

Insulting Chuck Lorre, Not Abuse, Gets Sheen Sidelined from The New York Times

“30 Rock” takes on feminist hypocrisy–and its own from Salon

In Which We Have to Consider Why Shorty Always Wanna Be a Thug from This Recording

The Women of ‘!W.A.R.’ from The New York Times

Not another terrorised film female from The Guardian UK

Women in Film: Where have all the strong women gone? from The Vancouver Sun

Oscar winner Geena Davis hits out at Hollywood’s female stereotypes at UN Women gala from The Herald Sun

Women breaking glass ceiling in Malayalam film industry from Sify News

No Country For Old Men Presented by The Girls on Film from YouTube

Ladies Wear the Blue (1974) from Fyddeye


2011 Post-Oscar Response

Might as well dive right in! Here is the list (short version) of the winners:

Best Picture: The King’s Speech

Best Actor: Colin Firth in The King’s Speech

Best Supporting Actor: Christian Bale in The Fighter

Best Actress: Natalie Portman in Black Swan

Best Supporting Actress: Melissa Leo in The Fighter

Best Animated Feature Film: Toy Story 3

Best Director: Tom Hooper for The King’s Speech

Best Documentary Feature: Inside Job

Best Documentary Short: Strangers No More

Best Foreign Language Film: In a Better World

Best Adapted Screenplay: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network

Best Original Screenplay: David Seidler for The King’s Speech

Well. As we said earlier in the week:
“the Academy Awards are the most visible celebration of filmmaking in the United States–and possibly the world. Yet–and despite the misnomer of ‘liberal Hollywood’–they continue to exhibit cultural values and norms that are conservative and simply unacceptable. Women are typically rewarded for playing roles that support a central male character in films. People of color are rarely nominated for–and even more rarely win–major awards. This year (as in most years), all Best Director nominees are white men. (Only one woman has EVER won this category.) The Best Picture nominees are about white people (or white cartoon characters), and are lauded by mostly white male critics. Even in a movie about lesbians, a man takes center stage. We could go on, but you get the idea.”

So now that the 2011 Academy Awards have aired, what did you think? I love the discussions that’ve been happening leading up to the Oscars, and I’ll highlight a few of the ones I found particularly enlightening. For starters, the Feminist Frequency video below is an absolute must-watch:  

In our Best Picture Nominee Review Series, we (with the help of our Guest Writers) showed that most of the films were about men, with the exception of Winter’s Bone, Black Swan, and The Kids Are All Right–with the latter two still exhibiting some major problems with their portrayals of women. We also showcased Ten Years of Oscar-Winning Films (in posters), which further illustrated the accolades presented to male-dominated films.
Add The King’s Speech to the ever-growing list.
For those of you who watched the 2011 Academy Awards, you heard Steven Spielberg list several Great Films that had previously won Oscars for Best Picture. He then listed several more Great Films that were nominated for Best Picture Oscars but hadn’t won. His lists included the following films: On the Waterfront, Midnight Cowboy, The Godfather, The Deer Hunter, The Grapes of Wrath, Citizen Kane, The Graduate, and Raging Bull. What do they have in common? They’re all movies about Heterosexual White Men. So I ask, what would’ve been wrong with including some of these films in the list: Rebecca, The Sound of Music, Kramer vs Kramer, Terms of Endearment, or Driving Miss Daisy … ? At this point, I’m honestly starting to wonder if The Academy gives a flying fuck at all about people who aren’t Heterosexual White Men; they sure as hell have no interest in pretending they do.
The following Oscar analyses deepen the discussion.
“Talking About the 2011 Oscars” from The Funny Feminist:
It would appear that expanding the Best Picture category to include ten films instead of five has resulted in more recognition for movies about women.

It hasn’t, though, seemed to improve the field for other marginalized groups, because, as Shakesville pointed out, not a single person of color was nominated in the acting categories.  I guess no people of color acted in any movies last year!  Or else, the Academy filled their quota last year by giving nominations to Gabourey Sidibe and Mo’Nique and don’t feel the need to recognize any other people of color.  Excuse me while I go roll my eyes.

The Academy also filled their quota of female directors last year.  In 82 years of the Academy Awards, they finally recognized a female director (Kathryn Bigelow) and awarded her for her work on The Hurt Locker. I guess no women made movies this year, because the Best Director category is all male.

“Oscar was a Dude: America’s Celebration of Men” from The Sociological Cinema:

Hollywood didn’t invent patriarchy, but that doesn’t preclude it from being implicated in reproducing it. The cultural critic, Stuart Hall, once observed that the people who work in creating media stand in a different relationship to ideology than the rest of us. That is to say, those who produce, direct, and act in films have at their disposal a powerful tool, which can be used to transform how people come to understand the world in which they live. Movies–especially the ones the Academy deems worthy of its coveted Oscar–pose answers to questions many people never asked, such as, “whose story is likely to matter most?” or just, “who matters?” As evidenced from the list of nominated films this year, those who were hoping for a revolution in the kinds of stories Hollywood tells may be disappointed. For now, a critical awareness of the men and masculinity America is (also) celebrating on Sunday may have to suffice.

Thoughts? Concerns? What the hell?

Oscar Acceptance Speeches, 2010

Leading up to the 2011 Oscars, we’ll showcase the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches by Best Actress winners and Best Supporting Actress winners. (Note: In most cases, you’ll have to click through to YouTube in order to watch the speeches, as embedding has been disabled at the request of copyright owners.)
Best Actress Nominees: 2010
Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side (read our review here)
Helen Mirren, The Last Station
Carey Mulligan, An Education (read our review here)
Gabourey Sidibe, Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (read our review here)
Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia
Best Supporting Actress Nominees: 2010
Penelope Cruz, Nine
Vera Farmiga, Up in the Air (read our review here)
Maggie Gyllenhaal, Crazy Heart
Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air (read our review here)
**********
Sandra Bullock wins Best Actress for her performance in The Blind Side.
Mo’Nique wins Best Supporting Actress for her role in Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire.
**********
See nominees and winners in previous years: 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009

Best Picture Nominee Review Series: 2011 Roundup

Despite the prevailing (and, to a certain extent, correct) opinions that the Oscars 1) are a political campaign in which the films with the best marketing take home the awards; 2) do not genuinely reflect the best films made every year; 3) promote female objectification (red carpet ridiculousness); and 4) exhibit the continued dominance of the white male filmmaker, we still think they’re important.

Here’s why.

The Academy Awards are the most visible celebration of filmmaking in the United States–and possibly the world. Yet–and despite the misnomer of “liberal Hollywood”–they continue to exhibit cultural values and norms that are conservative and simply unacceptable. Women are typically rewarded for playing roles that support a central male character in films. People of color are rarely nominated for–and even more rarely win–major awards. This year (as in most years), all Best Director nominees are white men. (Only one woman has EVER won this category.) The Best Picture nominees are about white people (or white cartoon characters), and are lauded by mostly white male critics. Even in a movie about lesbians, a man takes center stage. We could go on, but you get the idea.

We can’t just ignore the Oscars. We need to make our voices heard. That’s one reason we run a series of feminist film reviews on the Best Picture nominees. Our reviews focus on the women in these movies, and are written by women who go out and buy movie tickets. We hope you’ll read them and add your voices to the discussion.

The 2011 Academy Awards Ceremony airs this coming Sunday, February 27. Check out our reviews of the Best Picture Nominees before you tune in. Which film do you think should walk away with the Best Picture Oscar? Which one do you think will?

Inception reviewed by Amber Leab:

“It’s assumed that, of course we want Cobb to win because he’s really Leo, and, you see, Leo is talented but Troubled. What troubles him? You guessed it: a woman. A woman whose very name–Mal (played by Marion Cotillard, an immensely talented actress who’s wasted in this role)–literally means ‘bad.’ Who or what will rescue Cobb/Leo from his troubles? You guessed it again: a woman. This time, it’s a woman whose very name–Ariadne (played by Ellen Page in a way that demands absolutely no commentary)–means ‘utterly pure,’ and who is younger, asexual (a counter to Mal’s dangerous French sexuality) and without any backstory or past of her own to smudge the movie’s–and her own–focus on Cobb/Leo. So, it’s not a stretch here to say that Cobb needs a pure woman to escape the bad one. Virgin/whore stereotype, anyone?”

Toy Story 3 reviewed by Natalie Wilson:

“While the girls in the audience are given the funny and adventurous Jessie, they are also taught women talk too much: Flirty Mrs. Potato-Head, according to new character Lotso, needs her mouth taken off. Another lesson is that when women do say something smart, it’s so rare as to be funny (laughter ensues when Barbie says ‘authority should derive from the consent of the governed’), and that even when they are smart and adventurous, what they really care about is nabbing themselves a macho toy to love (as when Jessie falls for the Latino version of Buzz–a storyline, that, yes, also plays on the ‘Latin machismo lover’ stereotype).”

The Fighter reviewed by Jessica Freeman-Slade:

“It’s when the instincts of the protective mother and the defensive girlfriend go up against each other that all hell breaks loose. Alice decides to storm over to Mickey’s house with her daughters in tow, ringing the bell and banging on the door just as Micky and Charlene are doing the nasty. The bell rings and rings, and Charlene, furious at being interrupted, throws on a t-shirt and storms downstairs. Alice pleads with Micky to leave and come back home, but Charlene accuses Alice of allowing her son to get hurt, instead of stepping in and protecting him. In the midst of a boxing movie, what we get is a treatise on how women are the only ones that really know how to fight.”

The King’s Speech reviewed by Roopa Singh:

“It cannot be said that this film has any meaningful roles for women, who are simply not the focus in this story. No matter how much is written about Helena Bonham Carter’s canny and compassionate Elizabeth, the film boils down to cinematic basics when it comes to women. There are two doting wives (Jennifer Ehle as Myrtle Logue), one frowned upon mistress (Eve Best as Mrs. Wallis Simpson), and three rather doll-like daughters. Aside from a small battle of wills between Bertie and Elizabeth (in which we taste a tiny bit of her wry cunning as the Red Queen in Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland), there is not a hint of nuance for any female role. No, you don’t watch this film to see women shine. Instead, what makes The King’s Speech unique is its tender treatment of a relationship between two men, Logue with his power to heal, and Bertie with his power to rule.”

Black Swan reviewed by Amber Leab and Stephanie Rogers:

“Regardless, I like that Black Swan implies that these ideals for women can’t actually exist without women destroying themselves in the process of attaining them. We live in a society where women’s bodies exist as pleasure-objects for men, as dismembered parts to sell products, as images to be dissected, airbrushed, made fun of, all under a government that continues to chip away at women’s rights to bodily autonomy. In that kind of environment, when does a woman’s body ever feel entirely her own? Black Swan sets up that metaphor quite well, asking the viewer to experience Nina’s struggle to live up to society’s ridiculous expectations for women through several cringe-worthy moments.”

The Social Network reviewed by Carrie Polansky:

“The truth is, the female characters in The Social Network are so poorly written that it is easy to ignore them entirely. They are relegated to the roles of girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, one-night stands, groupies and lawyers out to destroy Mark Zuckerberg’s empire. None of them are directly involved in the creation of Facebook or any other social networking site–they are the scenery that accompanies the male protagonists (and antagonists) as they go about reinventing human communication. In fact, if you removed the women from the story entirely, nothing would really change.”

Winter’s Bone reviewed by Amber Leab:

“This is a patriarchal world of heightened gender roles, where women operate as shields to protect their men, and have little power independently. Ree, having no one to speak out for or protect her, becomes an investigator, and thus an agitator. Instead of keeping the peace, keeping quiet, and knowing her place, she refuses to allow herself and her immediate family to be the victims of an irresponsible and criminal man–even if he is her father. She visits the homes of people she’s known her father to associate with, beginning with a low-level junkie and dealer, and her father’s brother, Teardrop (John Hawkes). As she continues her determined climb through the countryside, the men become less accessible as woman after woman warns Ree against pursuing her father, and warns her, implicitly and explicitly, that there will be harsh consequences for asking questions.” 

True Grit reviewed by Cynthia Arrieu-King:

“I don’t know yet how to adequately express my astonishment that not only is the main character of this movie a 14 year-old girl, she is not a 14 year-old girl who gets swept aside, despite the men trying to sweep her aside–and actually dumping her off in the middle of nowhere with some gnarly thugs–for most of the movie. Her resolve is not plucky, it is near maniacal. They can’t get rid of her because she is irrationally rational. My jaw hung open a few times. This of course doesn’t necessarily confirm a feminist message about girl-child power, because she is not exactly a woman, she is a child entertaining in her single-mindedness.  The story mostly emphasizes that if you want to be gritty, don’t get side-tracked in the vagaries of your emotion; have forethought and a long-range plan and wield a lawsuit adamantly until you are a nuisance that can’t be ignored.”  

The Kids Are All Right reviewed by Megan Kearns: 

“Raw and real; it felt as if Annette Bening and Julianne Moore were a real couple fighting to hold onto their family. Usually, you see a film with two lesbians in an affair for men’s titillation, rarely to convey a loving, monogamous relationship. Nic and Jules share a flawed yet devoted marriage, evocative of relationships in real-life. There was simply no need to bring a man into the picture. I wish the film had retained its focus on the couple and their family. It’s such a rarity that we see films featuring lesbian couples let alone two female leads that I had high hopes for, expecting it to be empowering. Sadly, the undercurrent of misogynistic language and male-centrism taints Cholodenko’s potentially beautiful story.”

127 Hours reviewed by Stephanie Rogers:

“His hallucinations suck, too. His sister shows up in a wedding dress. His sister showing up in a wedding dress clearly serves as a vehicle to make us feel bad that he’ll be missing Very Important Life Events if he dies, like his sister’s wedding. More pointlessly, the hallucinated sister, who might have one speaking line if I’m being generous, is played by Lizzy Caplan, an actress who’s had large roles in True Blood, Party Down, Hot Tub Time Machine, Cloverfield, and Mean Girls. Instead of engaging with the film, I found myself taken completely out of it, as I wondered why they would cast an actress who’s clearly got more skills than standing in a wedding dress, looking sullen and disappointed, to stand in a wedding dress looking sullen and disappointed.”