Author: Stephanie Rogers

Quote of the Day: Samhita Mukhopadhyay, from ‘Outdated: Why Dating Is Ruining Your Love Life’

Samhita Mukhopadhyay’s Outdated: Why Dating Is Ruining Your Love Life

I hate dating. I’m really bad at dating. I meet up with a dude, and I’m usually like “eh” after five minutes, ready to move on. I don’t suffer from a throwing-in-the-towel mentality of sorts, where I’m willing to settle for any dude, just for the sake of filling one of my many supposed obligations as a woman–Finally Finding Love. I’m more of an impossibly-high-standards dater, one who stares at the dude in front of her, like, “You’re obviously not a progressive feminist with a clear understanding of the ramifications the media has on the self-esteem of women and young girls, and you haven’t listed one single female musician or a woman-driven film in your endless list of ‘favorite things’ … so why don’t you get out of my face.” Right?! Bad. At. Dating. 
So I bought Mukhopadhyay’s book to see if it could help me stop being horrible at dating; it definitely helped me think about dating in a different way.
She focuses on the sexist dating advice industry throughout the book, and she writes in the introduction that the book is about “conundrums and confusion; it’s about the contradicting messages we get from popular culture, feminism, our social circles, politics, and the romance industry. It’s about charting trends in how women and men are talked about in the media; it’s about pointing out hypocrisy, and it’s about dealing with a world that is still reliant on antiquated ideas of gender.” 
I found the book most helpful for me, however, in its discussion of finding The One. We live in a culture that obsesses over the idea of The One. The film industry especially pushes it (usually upon women) in the Romantic Comedy aka “chick flick” genre. I personally didn’t realize how much I (feminist! media critic! blogger! constant reader of the feminist blogosphere!) had actually internalized these messages until I read Mukhopadhyay’s book. Turns out, when you go into every date subconsciously ready to decide within five minutes if this person is The One, then you’re probably going to end up with a fuckload of first dates … without too many second or third or fourth dates with the same person. 
She also points out that the portrayals of single women in film and television often make single ladies look like total losers, which is also difficult to not internalize (even for someone who spends most of her free time critiquing media representations of women). Conundrums and confusion, indeed! Overall, the book shines a light on the dilemma of Dating While Feminist, and I encourage all daters to read it, even if you don’t necessarily consider yourself a Feminist, and even if you’re not as awful at dating as I am. 
One of the most important aspects of the book deals with exactly what we deal with at Bitch Flicks–how pop culture, especially film and television, works to perpetuate stereotypes and help maintain the status quo … while also making me a shitty dater (if I haven’t yet made that clear).
I’ll leave you with the following excerpt. Because it’s important to always keep an eye out for this bullshit. After all, knowing it exists is the only way to fight against it! #realtalk

Television is a reflection of our cultural norms at a given time, so it makes sense that during the ’60s and ’70s–a time of cultural revolution where the very definitions of family, sexuality, relationships, and femininity were being pushed–women were written as living comfortable, fun lives as single women who engaged in sex when they wanted it and often opted out of long-term relationships. Laverne & Shirley, at the height of its viewership, was the most watched sitcom in the United States, surpassing Happy Days, which is shocking considering its often serious and feminist themes. Laverne & Shirley took on unplanned pregnancy, sex before marriage, and workplace equality.
[…]
If we look to the sitcoms of today, we see weaker depictions of women dominating the tubes. We see women who are smaller in stature, more neurotic, confused, wishy-washy, and often dysfunctional. There are few sitcoms about single women even on the airwaves today, actually. But think of the leading ladies in sitcoms, from Everybody Loves Raymond to The King of Queens; both Debra and Carrie represent good, faithful (and hot) wives. And while the plotline shows they are often the ones in charge, their story lines are secondary to their goofy, irresponsible, “bro-ish” husbands. While these characters’ behavior could be chalked up to the shows being satirical or humorous, there is a noticeable difference between how women and their romantic relationships have been represented over the decades. 
Similarly, if we are to look at the representation of single black women even from the ’90s to the new millennium, a quick comparison of 227 and Living Single to Girlfriends shows you how differently actresses are cast today. Earlier shows cast black women of varying sizes, skin tones, and hairstyles, whereas more recent shows seem to only cast thinner black women with straighter hair and more Caucasian features. Let’s just acknowledge that you don’t turn on the TV and see a great actress like Esther Rolle these days (unless you’re watching The Biggest Loser). 
[…]
Popular television has changed, but what has entered the public domain are new caricatures of femininity that play to our most regressive stereotypes of how single women should think, talk, and act. And while reality TV is supposed to be “real,” the images of single women have only gotten less real. According to reality TV, all single women want to get married and their lives are meaningless without this milestone, despite any personal or professional successes they might have seen. This has closed up any real possibilities for characterizations of single women as anything but failing at the dream of romance. 

You can purchase the book here.

Additional Links

Why I Love Outdated: Why Dating Is Ruining Your Love Life by Andrea (AJ) Plaid via Racialicious

Dating While Feminist: An Interview with Samhita Mukhopadhyay by Allison McCarthy via Ms. Magazine

The Rumpus Interview With Samhita Mukhopadhyay by Neelanjana Banerjee via The Rumpus

She’s Just Not That Into Dating by Tracy Clark-Flory via Salon

It’s Not Feminism That’s Ruining Romance: A Fresh Spin on Dating by Noelle de la Paz via Colorlines

Samhita Mukhopadhyay’s Web site

Quote of the Day from "When TV Became Art: What We Owe to Buffy" by Robert Moore

Buffy on the verge of killing a vampire

In an article published way back in 2009, Robert Moore made the case in PopMatters for why Buffy the Vampire Slayer is such an important television show:

Without any question, Buffy revolutionized the role of women on television, more even than Mary Tyler Moore or Cagney and Lacey or Murphy Brown or Ally McBeal. If you look at female heroes (as opposed to hapless heroines–I have always thought that the definition of heroine should be “endangered female in need of rescue by male hero”) in the history of TV, you will be astonished at how few there are prior to the nineties. You have Annie Oakley in the fifties and Emma Peel on The Avengers in the sixties, and to a degree Wonder Woman (who spent a great deal of her time worrying about impressing her boss Col. Steve Trevor) and The Bionic Woman (the weaker spin off to The Six Million Dollar Man). This all changed in the nineties, first with Dana Scully on The X-Files and then with Xena. But the former, as competent as she was as an FBI professional, was not sufficiently iconic to change TV, while the latter, sufficiently iconic, was too cartoonish to inspire future female heroes. Buffy was the turning point. You can write the history of female heroes on TV as Before Buffy and After Buffy. It is not a coincidence that most of the female heroes on TV arose in the wake of the little blonde vampire slayer. Look at the roster: Aeryn Sun (Farscape), Max (Dark Angel), Sydney Bristow (Alias), Kate Austin (Lost), Kara “Starbuck” Thrace (along with a plethora of other strong women on Battlestar Galactica), Olivia Dunham (Fringe), Sarah Connor and Cameron (Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles), Veronica Mars, and an almost uncountable number of lesser characters. Buffy made TV safe for strong women. This isn’t art, but it is the content of art. Buffy guaranteed that TV as art would make a place for heroic women.
While I recognize that we can go back and forth for the end of time about whether Buffy (the show and the character) is feminist or antifeminist, I think we can at least agree that the simple statement “Buffy made TV safe from strong women” is pretty compelling and hard to entirely disagree with. 
My seven-year-old niece Sophia visited me recently in New York. When it was bedtime, and we were browsing through Netflix to find something to watch before we went to sleep, she wanted Buffy. The next day when we woke up, she immediately asked if we could watch Buffy while we ate breakfast. When we got home from New York sightseeing, she wanted Buffy. We skipped many of the violent, scarier episodes (“Hush,” anyone?), but she loved watching Buffy save her friends and fellow high school students by destroying monsters with her bare hands. 
Now Sophia takes Taekwondo. She showed me some of her moves the last time I saw her, and said, “I bet I’ll be able to kick as much butt as Buffy soon, maybe more!” 
I don’t want to get bogged down about how it sucks in a way that Buffy’s ability comes exclusively from superpowers. I get that, and I could write about it endlessly, but in this moment, I don’t care because Sophia doesn’t care. She watches Buffy and sees a woman who kicks ass, and she wants to emulate that. It’s tough to over-analyze and intellectualize a TV show when you’re watching a young girl practice roundhouse kicks because she wants to be a strong badass like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And I have to say, it’s much more heartwarming to see her excited about becoming a strong woman with martial arts skills than it was to watch her pretend she couldn’t speak–because she wanted to be Ariel from The Little Mermaid. 

Photo of the Day

The cast of Roseanne, all grown up
I fucking love this show. So much. I wrote during our Reproduction & Abortion theme week about why I love this show so much:
I grew up watching Roseanne. The show first aired in 1988—when I was ten years old—and it ended after 9 seasons, around the time I graduated high school. The fact that the show now appears in reruns on various television stations, during all hours of the day and night, often makes me feel like the Conners have never not been a part of my life. I saw myself (and my family) in that show, and I identified with the characters and their struggles, particularly surrounding financial issues and social status.

Unfortunately, families like the Conners just don’t exist on TV now, which is extremely problematic considering families today—and women in particular—continue to feel the never-ending effects of Wall Street tanking our economy. We simply no longer see the realities of women’s lives accurately reflected back at us in the media. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that Roseanne, a television show starring a fat, working-class, unapologetically outspoken matriarch; a television show that effectively dealt with racism, classism, feminism, gay marriage (depicting the very first gay marriage in the history of television); a television show openly addressing sexism and misogyny, and yes—a woman’s right to choose; and finally, a television show that first aired nearly 25 years ago, is a far more progressive television show than anything currently gracing the network airwaves in 2012.

You can read the whole thing here. So … who’s up for a Roseanne theme week?

A Roundup of Previous Theme Weeks

REMINDER: Our deadline to receive original pieces and cross posts for our LGBTQI Theme Week is this Friday at midnight. I’ve linked to all our previous theme weeks below, as well as listing our upcoming themes. Submit away!

Previous Theme Weeks

Best Picture Nominee Review Series, 2008

Best Picture Nominee Review Series, 2009

Best Picture Nominee Review Series, 2010

Best Picture Nominee Review Series, 2011

Mad Men Week, 2011

Horror Week, 2011

Animated Children’s Films, 2011

Emmy Week, 2011

Best Picture Nominee Review Series, 2012

Independent Spirit Award Nominees, 2012

Biopic and Documentary Week, 2012

Reproduction and Abortion Week, 2012

Motherhood in Film and Television, 2012

Upcoming Theme Weeks

July: Women in Science Fiction, Deadline July 20th.

August: Buffy!, Deadline August 24th.

September: Women and Gender in Musicals, Deadline September 21st.

October: Women in Horror, Deadline October 19th.

November: Women in Politics, Deadline November 23rd.

December: Gender and Food in Film and Television, Deadline December 21st.

Television Preview: Push Girls

Promotional poster for the new reality TV series Push Girls

A new reality TV show called Push Girls, starring four disabled women in wheelchairs, premiered on the Sundance Channel last night. And it’s gotten glowing reviews.

Jill Serjeant writes for the Huffington Post:
Angela is a stunning model, Auti is a dancer who is trying for a baby, Tiphany is designing a clothes line and Mia works as a graphic designer.

And all four women are paralyzed from the neck or waist down and are about to shatter widespread notions of what it’s like to spend life in a wheelchair.

“Push Girls”, launching on the Sundance Channel on Monday, chronicles the lives of the ambitious and dynamic quartet in a way that producers say has never before been seen on U.S. television.

“Plenty of people have no idea what it’s like to spend the day in the life of someone with a disability, let alone a spinal cord injury,” said Tiphany Adams, 29, who was paralyzed in a horrific 2000 car accident.

“How do we get in and out of a car? How do we go to the bathroom. How do we go grocery shopping? How do we get in the shower? How do we get dressed? I thought it was a brilliant idea for the world to see that,” she said.

Told without self-pity, “Push Girls” shows the women going about their lives in Los Angeles just like other good-looking females in their 20s, 30s and 40s – flirting, going to nightclubs, in bed with boyfriends, chatting about love lives and searching their souls about the future.

Mary McNamara of the Los Angeles Times writes:
But television is a visual medium, and one point the show makes with breathtaking rapidity is that tragedy can interrupt even the most seemingly charmed life. The other, more important point is that it can be just that — an interruption rather than an off-the-rails ending.

“If I can’t stand up, I’m going to stand out,” says one of the women toward the end of the pilot, and that would appear to be its theme.

Where others might have chosen to follow the overtly emotional, “The Other Side of the Mountain”-type story line of agonizing transition from able-bodied to physically challenged, this show does not. Instead, it chooses women who have been in their chairs for at least 10 years — which shows in the grace and ease with which they operate their chairs and perform tasks that, to the able-bodied, would seem impossible without full mobility.

Linda Holmes of NPR makes astute observations as well:
Let’s say this first: Popular television is bad at lots of things, and one of them is representations of people with disabilities. Even where they’re present – Artie on Glee, or Walter, Jr. on Breaking Bad – they tend to be in isolation. When there’s more than one person in a wheelchair, for instance, like when Jason Street was in rehab on Friday Night Lights, the story is usually about the disability itself.

I sat down to think about the last time I saw television pass a sort of invented variation (not parallel, but similar in intent) on the Bechdel test: two people with disabilities talking in depth about things other than their disabilities. I’m sure it’s happened, but I strained to think of examples.

 …
It’s still a reality show, like many others. It’s still a reality show about people who are way too hot to be representative of the population, and about people who gossip about each other and share more personal details than most of us would. To a degree, it truly does just happen to be a show about people in wheelchairs, and that’s probably the best thing it could be.
Neil Genzlinger of the New York Times praises the show but offers a critique:
The premiere episode tends to lapse into a “You go, girl” mode typical of shallow treatments of disability, with fist-pumping and treacly background music. It’s a tone that subtly demeans, suggesting that simple things like having head shots taken (Ms. Rockwood is trying to restart a modeling career) must be applauded because, golly, for someone in a wheelchair to do anything other than sit there is a triumph.

A little of that may be necessary to hook an audience that has come to expect this treatment whenever a person with a disability turns up on television, but the faster this show sheds that tone and its preoccupation with sex, the more useful it will be. There are numerous other things we’d like to know about these interesting women besides the particulars of their love lives: their finances, their experiences on the job, their journey to get to the confidence level they seem to have achieved, their hopes for new technologies and medical breakthroughs.

Another challenge for “Push Girls” is dispelling the impression that these women are representative. Certain viewers might well look at them and conclude, “Gorgeous, smart, independent; I guess the disabled-Americans problem has been solved, so I can go back to not thinking about it.”

Over dinner in Beverly Hills recently, the sisterhood was palpable. Funny and vibrant, the women were as quick to tease each other over entrée choices as they were to argue over who looks the most beautiful when she wakes up in the morning. The tears flowed just as easily when the conversation turned to what their friendship means, and not just for the women. Even Chelsie’s father, Jon Hill, and Rockwood’s caregiver, Aunty Judy, became misty-eyed a couple of times.

“It was such a turning point for Chelsie to meet them all at one time,” Jon Hill said. “She’s always been a happy kid, but when she met the girls and we left there, she was singing and dancing in the car. Just pumped up. That’s what I needed to see. Even though she wasn’t depressed, it was just finding that right niche so she wouldn’t be sitting at home in the chair. It’s helped me tremendously being around these ladies.”

The Hollywood Reporter notes:

A more subtle aspect of the show is seeing how others react to the Push Girls: from rudeness to confusion, there are many levels of discomfort on display among the able-bodied people featured. How the women deal with the awkwardness varies within the group, but it’s one of the more moving subtexts. There’s a mixture of duty and fatigue when Angela talks a photographer through the reality of her leg spasms as he puts on an awkward grin, unsure of how to handle the fact that she could, at any moment, “stroke out.”

The series starts off with the women beginning their very L.A.-flavored journeys toward starting (or restarting) their careers, and there’s something captivating in that struggle even beyond the affecting nature of seeing these women work to transcend their disabilities. Despite the leisurely pace of the filming, which lacks a certain amount of dramatic tension, there’s a fiery spirit to Push Girls that cannot be ignored.

You can watch the first episode on Hulu.

Motherhood in Film & Television: The Authentic Portrayal of Mother-Daughter Relationships in ‘Future Weather’

Movie poster for Future Weather

I recently saw the film Future Weather at the Tribeca Film Festival and was blown away by the honest portrayal of motherhood onscreen. The film captures the ups and downs characteristic of mother-daughter relationships and does so without simplifying the women or relegating them to either/or binaries; there is no exclusively Good Mom or Bad Mom in this film. Not only is it nearly unheard of in films today to watch women interact with one another in ways that don’t involve men, but in typical feature films showcasing mother-daughter relationships, audiences are often subjected to a litany of unrealistic absolutes: Good Moms always love and nurture their daughters, sacrificing their entire adult existences and maintaining some virgin-esque purity while doing so; yet Bad Moms ruin their daughters’ lives through manipulation, neglect, or—conversely—smothering and over-protection, to the point that the audience labels these mothers nothing more than villains—usually mentally unstable villains—with no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

But Future Weather avoids these clichés. The women in this film lead hard, complex lives. We know these women. We live with these women. Their interactions remind of us our own multifaceted mother-daughter relationships. And, fortunately—while they’re sometimes messy and often difficult to watch—the women in Future Weather aren’t treated as tropes to merely move a plot forward (no dead ladies/moms for dudes to avenge the deaths of!), and the filmmakers spare the audience from two hours of that cringe-worthy, all-too-familiar “lone woman among a group of complex, likeably awful men” thing.

Here is an excerpt from writer/director/producer Jenny Deller’s summary of the film on imdb:
Thirteen-year-old Laduree lives in a trailer tucked away on a beautiful piece of land in rural America. A loner who takes refuge in nature, she’s grown up looking after her mother [Tanya] as she wanders between men and jobs. A few weeks into the 8th grade, Laduree returns home to find a note in the breadbox with a fifty-dollar bill—her mother has taken off to pursue her life-long dream of becoming a make-up artist for the stars. … Laduree reluctantly begins life at her grandmother’s [in] a small house in town where her mother grew up. … As the two struggle to deal with Tanya’s disappearance, they tiptoe toward each other and apart, finding fragile moments of connection and release amid a glut of lies, omissions, and miscommunications. …

Perla Haney-Jardine plays Laduree (called “Ray” for short) brilliantly. Future Weather is a coming-of-age tale, and Ray’s relationship with her absent mother, Tanya (played by Marin Ireland), never feels false; I attribute that to Jardine’s stunning performance in the role. Ray always keeps her guard up, but underneath her feigned tough exterior lies a wounded child who, like many of us, had to take on adult responsibilities at a young age and never experienced the love she needed from her mother. And while Ray’s mother Tanya enjoys traditionally feminine things like experimenting with makeup—she abandons Ray to move to California to become a makeup artist, after all—Ray loves science, a traditionally male pursuit. She’s a tomboy who likes the earth, particularly plant-life, likes getting dirty, and likes swimming in lakes. These differing interests further separate mother and daughter, and neither knows quite how to relate to the other, though it isn’t for lack of trying.

Perla Haney-Jardine as Laduree and Amy Madigan as Greta in Future Weather

In several quiet scenes, often with no dialogue, the director Jenny Deller illustrates this disconnect perfectly, with Ray unsuccessfully trying to show Tanya her scientific discoveries and Tanya trying to bond with her daughter by giving her a makeover. I love this juxtaposition so much. For one, Ray’s love of science works as a metaphor throughout the film. Ray studies plants in her yard, and when she moves to her grandmother’s house, she must uproot her plants (which she’s named and everything) and physically move them to another home. She worries it will kill them, and that speaks to Ray’s own emotional turmoil in being forced to leave the only home she’s ever known. Ray essentially “mothers” (i.e. nurtures) her plants and loves them in a way she doesn’t feel loved by her own mother. 

Basically, since Ray can’t control her home life, which is utterly chaotic, or navigate her grown-up emotions surrounding Tanya’s abandonment, she focuses on the earth and science (a field driven by absolutes and logic), and immerses herself in finding ways to fix what she sees as the failure of humans to take care of—and nurture—their home.
Perla Haney-Jardine as Laduree in Future Weather

One of the criticisms I’ve read repeatedly about Future Weather is that the film includes too much eco-dialogue. Nope! Sure, Ray speaks passionately about the environment throughout, and in another film, one not directed by a woman who understands subtext, perhaps, (how is this Deller’s first film?!), the eco-dialogue critique might make sense. But in this film, particularly in the scene in which Ray flips out on an entire neighborhood of people about littering, excessive purchasing of water bottles, and not caring about the earth in general, the subtext is absolutely clear: people who possess the ability to care for living creatures also possess the responsibility to do so—to nurture and care for the planet because the planet takes care of us, the way mothers, daughters, and families should take care of one another.

Motherhood, specifically the act of mothering, is presented as a layered and complicated job in Future Weather.

Lili Taylor as Ms. Markovi in Future Weather

We see more evidence of this in Ray’s relationship with her science teacher Ms. Markovi (played by Lili Taylor). Ray connects with her for obvious reasons: she sees herself in Ms. Markovi, another female who loves science (gasp!), and she also sees Ms. Markovi as a stand-in mother, someone who understands her and nurtures her interests in ways both Tanya and her grandmother, Greta (played by Amy Madigan), struggle to do effectively. There are reasons for that struggle. Greta, one of my new, absolute favorite onscreen women ever, is fucking tough. She gave birth to Tanya at a young age and raised her alone, and Tanya replicated her mother’s life with Ray.

And guess what? Single motherhood is hard; the film shows us that.

It shows the hardships—and consequences—of trying to raise a child while struggling financially, getting no real support from the man who, you know, helped create the child, and hearing the constant message from society that mothers cease to exist as individuals once they have children. Forget it, moms. Any dreams or life goals you hoped to achieve once—put them on the backburner for a few decades. (Hint: society spares dads that message.)

I won’t give anything else away about the film, as it’s still screening at festivals and waiting for a distributor. (Someone pick up this film!)

But in the end, unlike so many movies about motherhood, Future Weather doesn’t condemn or vilify mothers, or even praise them. It illustrates the difficulties of motherhood, particularly for single moms. Deller, thankfully, doesn’t shy away from showing us the realities—and occasional horrors (ha)—inherent in mother-daughter relationships. We may question the decisions these mothers make, but they’re questioning themselves throughout, too.

The cast and director of Future Weather

Quote of the Day: Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards

Manifesta by Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards

I’ve been reading the 10th anniversary edition of Jennifer Baumgardner’s and Amy Richards’ Manifesta: Young Women, Feminism, and the Future, which was first published in 2000 and revised in 2010. One chapter in particular struck me, and in honor of Mother’s Day this past Sunday–and our upcoming theme on Motherhood, starting Monday (yay!)–I’d like to excerpt from the chapter, “Thou Shalt Not Become Thy Mother.”
The authors discuss the generational divide between mothers and daughters and the tension that often exists because mothers (within the past generation) raised children “with some hint of feminism in the air.” Their young daughters today, though, struggle to avoid becoming like their mothers. Here are two excerpts from the chapter that delve into that theme in greater detail:
Many daughters are scared of falling prey to the indignities we witnessed our mothers suffer. This fear is a challenge to younger feminists. Young women should understand where that fear comes from, rather than simply avoiding it. Unwrapping motherhood from the swaddles of patriarchy means that we will no longer have to work so hard to be different from our mothers.

As it is, we are more likely to notice what our mothers are doing wrong than what they are doing right. We notice if Dad treats Mom like shit, if homemaking appears to be a fake job, or if Mom worked outside the home and was never there to ask us about our day. We may think that when Dad does “Mom’s chores”–picking us up or doing the dishes or cooking–he’s a hero. We notice if we look to Dad for decision making, and to Mom for love and comfort and mending. If the marriage falls apart, we notice if Mom doesn’t know how to write checks, or dates jerks, or if her lifestyle becomes markedly poorer. We notice the passive-aggressive ways that she may work around powerlessness: the boyfriends she takes on to escape her unhappy marriage, the guilt trips, or the migraine headaches that befall her just before the guests arrived every holiday. Throughout or lives, we make mental notes, and swear on our mothers’ lives not to let that happen to us or do what they did. This includes the most trivial sins: we’ll never embarrass our kids, we’ll never have our hair done every Friday at the same time, we’ll never have a comfy-but-ugly outfit that we change into every day after work.

Our expectations of our dads are so much lower than our expectations of moms that dads don’t get such a bad rap from their daughters. We also let them off the hook because their lives appear more liberated–more like how daughters are told their lives should be. (pages 208-209)

 ———-

One True Thing, a Hollywood tearjerker based on a novel by Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Anna Quindlen, successfully analyzed this generational repulsion. In this 1998 film, Renee Zellweger portrayed an ambitious New York City journalist, Ellen Gulden, who returns to her suburban home to care for her terminally ill mother. “The one thing I never wanted to do was live my mother’s life,” Ellen says. “And there I was doing it.” Meryl Streep, as Kate, zaftig and radiant in the housewife role, throws elaborate theme parties and makes a tabletop mosaic from her broken dishes. Creative and delightful as she is, Kate’s domestic achievements are nada compared to the father’s life as a sought-after English professor and would-be novelist (portrayed by William Hurt). After walking many miles (and scrubbing many toilets) in her mother’s shoes, Ellen learns that her mother’s accomplishments–her ability to bring the community together and make her family comfortable–far surpass her father’s inflated dreams of his own literary importance.

“You spend all of your life thinking about what you don’t have, and you have so much,” Kate warns her puffy-eyed ungrateful daughter just before she dies. In that moment, any daughter might be shocked (as we were) into recognizing that we view our mothers in light of what we think they lack–youthful looks, brilliant careers, respectful husbands–not what they have. Finally, Ellen learns that her mother has actually chosen and fulfilled with joy the very life that Ellen had learned to disdain. The film isn’t a call to join a kaffeeklatsch community group or bake up a storm as a one-way ticket to feminine authenticity. It’s a warning to mothers and daughters to take a clear-eyed look at each other, rather than stealing glances and making notes about what not to do. One True Thing teases out a feminist challenge: to understand the choices our mothers made, knowing they were made in a context we will never experience. For mothers, the challenge is to realize that their daughters came of age in an entirely different era, one that makes their lives fundamentally different. (pages 213-214)

The book is fabulous. Buy it.

Women-Centric Films Opening Friday, May 18

I’m happy to report that this Friday several women-centered films are opening in theaters, some in limited release. While I doubt these films will all be fabulous feminist explorations of gender constructs that also depict women’s actual real-life experiences–and some of them might even be anti-feminist (I don’t necessarily have high hopes for What to Expect When You’re Expecting, based on the trailer)–at least we get to see women represented onscreen. Sometimes that feels like a low bar to set, but it’s significant considering how rarely it occurs. So here they are, accompanied by movie trailers and film synopses (taken from Rotten Tomatoes). And remember, we welcome review submissions for our Guest Writer Wednesday series. Check out the guidelines!



What to Expect When You’re Expecting

Over the moon about starting a family, TV fitness guru Jules and dance show star Evan find that their high-octane celebrity lives don’t stand a chance against the surprise demands of pregnancy. Baby-crazy author and advocate Wendy gets a taste of her own militant mommy advice when pregnancy hormones ravage her body; while Wendy’s husband, Gary, struggles not to be outdone by his competitive alpha-Dad, who’s expecting twins with his much younger trophy wife, Skyler. Photographer Holly is prepared to travel the globe to adopt a child, but her husband Alex isn’t so sure, and tries to quiet his panic by attending a “dudes” support group, where new fathers get to tell it like it really is. And rival food truck chefs Rosie and Marco’s surprise hook-up results in an unexpected quandary: what to do when your first child comes before your first date? — (C) Lionsgate

 

Polisse

A journalist covering police assigned to a juvenile division enters an affair with one of her subjects. 

The Color Wheel

The Color Wheel is the story of JR, an increasingly transient aspiring news-anchor, as she forces her disappointing younger brother Colin to embark on a road trip to move her belongings out of her professor-turned-lover’s apartment. Problem is, these grown up kids do not get along, and are both too obnoxious to know better. Chaos and calamity are not far behind her beat up Honda Accord. Too bad that nobody else in the world can stand either of them. Not Colin’s neglectful girlfriend, nor JR’s former high school friends, nor strangers they clash with at pretty much every step of their hopeless and increasingly infuriating voyage of frustration, failure and jerks. It can only be a matter of time before JR and Colin arrive at the strangest and most unsettling of resolutions and put to rest their decades of animosity, half-baked sibling rivalry and endless bickering. Resting uncomfortably somewhere between the solipsistic, unrepressed id of late Jerry Lewis, and the confrontational pseudo-sexual self-loathing of Philip Roth and shot on grainy 16mm black and white evoking the motels, diners and loners of Robert Frank’s America, The Color Wheel is a comedic symphony of disappointment and forgiveness.

Lovely Molly

When newlywed Molly Reynolds returns to her long-abandoned family home, reminders of a nightmarish childhood begin seeping into her new life. A malevolent force, whether her own haunted past or some supernatural ‘thing,’ tirelessly seeks to overwhelm her. Alone and isolated in a centuries-old manor, she soon begins an inexorable descent into depravity. Somewhere in the house, in the terrible space between psychosis and possession, lies an evil that will pull Molly and all those around her into darkness and death. — (C) Official Site



Virginia

A single mother struggles to raise her son Emmett while dreaming of escaping her small Southern boardwalk town. Her long time affair with the very married, Mormon Sheriff Richard Tipton is thrown into question when he decides to run for public office. Things are further complicated when Emmett begins a romantic relationship with Tipton’s daughter. Virginia and the town-populated by Amy Madigan, Toby Jones, Yeardley Smith-are full of secrets and everyone knows Virginia can only keep things together for so long. Virginia is a funny, touching drama that looks at the American Dream and what it takes to keep it together. — (C) Official Site

Hysteria

Hysteria is a romantic comedy with an accomplished cast led by Maggie Gyllenhaal, Hugh Dancy, Jonathan Pryce, Felicity Jones and Rupert Everett, that tells an untold tale of discovery – the surprising story of the birth of the electro-mechanical vibrator at the very peak of Victorian prudishness. — (C) Sony Classics

 

Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel

A portrait of legendary fashion magazine editor Diana Vreeland. She was one of the twentieth century’s greatest arbiters of style who dazzled the world with her unique vision of style high and low.

No Trailer Available

Short Documentary Film: Cup U

Jezebel wrote a brief piece about this film way back in December 2010, but I’m only just now running across it. I’ve been experimenting with Instead Softcups recently because my friends keep talking about how much they like them. I kind of like them too. Woo!
Here’s the description of the film from Jezebel:

Vanessa Meyer’s master’s thesis is a short film, titled Cup U. It is fifteen minutes of women — who are not, in her words, “granola eating hippies” — discussing menstrual cups.

I don’t have much to say except WATCH IT. We need to talk about our periods, ladies!

Movie Review: How ‘Vamps’ Showcases the Importance of Women Friendships

Movie poster for Vamps
Vamps, the new indie film directed by Amy Heckerling and starring Alicia Silverstone and Krysten Ritter (the upcoming star of the TV show Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23) takes the vampire genre and turns it into a fun, feminist celebration of youth culture and female friendship. The film is part spoof of the recent onslaught of vampire fare, part romantic comedy, part buddy movie—with women!—part history documentary, with some astute political commentary thrown in, and, ultimately, a film about aging, which pays particular attention to the struggles women face within a culture that values youth and beauty above all else.

Jason Buchanan on Rotten Tomatoes effectively captures the plot as follows: “Radiant New York City vampires Goody (Alicia Silverstone) and Stacy (Krysten Ritter) find their immortality in question after learning that love can still smolder in the realm of the undead. Meanwhile, Russian bloodsucker Vadim (Justin Kirk) prowls the streets in search of the next big thrill, and Dr. Van Helsing (Wallace Shawn) seeks to exterminate the creatures of the night as young Joey Van Helsing develops an unusual fixation on Stacy. As ravenous ‘stem’ vampire Ciccerus (Sigourney Weaver) presides over her dark dynasty with the help of her loyal assistant Ivan (Todd Barry), oddball Renfield (Zak Orth) strives to impress Stacy and Goody by any means necessary. Amidst all of the bloodshed and intrigue, nefarious vampire Vlad (Malcolm McDowell) works to perfect his knitting skills.” 


Alicia Silverstone as Goody and Krysten Ritter as Stacy in Vamps
It’s a fun cast of characters for sure, but Silverstone and Ritter shine as the main (women) characters. And for once there’s almost no reason to discuss The Bechdel Test; these two ladies barely talk about men for the first half of the film. Instead, we get to see them playing practical jokes on each other, hanging out in their shared apartment (often texting back and forth while inside their two side-by-side coffins), discussing their fashion choices—which is hilarious, as they struggle to make sure they’re fitting in with the latest 2012 trends (Stacy was first turned into a vampire in the 80s, and Goody lived all the way through the 1800s)—and generally looking out for each other and even (gasp) looking out for other women.

[SPOILER] Case in point: one of my absolute favorite scenes in the film happens early on, when Goody and Stacy head out for their nighttime ritual of club-hopping and imitating the new dance moves of the local youth “Day Walkers” (the term they use to refer to The Living among them). A couple of particularly horrible dude vampires approaches a woman after she bends over, ass in the air, with the word “Juicy” written on her tight pants. The dude vamps merely introduce themselves to her, to which she responds, “I’ll get my coat.” Goody chastises the horrible dude vampires—Goody and Stacy drink only the blood of rodents, not humans—and the dudes respond with, “She’s asking for it,” referring to her “Juicy” attire. It’s a pretty fucking great commentary on the victim-blaming that always accompanies any instance of the rape or sexual assault of women. 


Stacy and Goody on the computer
Goody walks over to the woman with the goal of getting her to stay away from the vampires, but she ultimately ends up hypnotizing her; in this film, vampires have the power to erase the memories of Day Walkers. At first Goody says something to the woman (paraphrasing), “Listen, you don’t want to leave with them. They’re really bad guys.” The woman says, “I like bad guys.” Goody begins hypnotizing her, repeating, “No, I like nice guys.” The woman walks away, passing the horrible dude vampires, while saying, “I like nice guys. I like guys who listen to me when I say things.” (I laughed out loud at that.)

This scene makes me so happy for a couple of reasons. First, a woman intervening to help another woman avoid getting killed by two horrible dude vampires—an obvious metaphor for rape in this scene, rarely happens in movies. How lovely to see that! Because women looking out for their friends certainly happens in real life—first-hand experience! Second, while I don’t necessarily like the implication that women always go for Bad Boys, I appreciate the acknowledgment that bros like this, who want to harm, abuse, and assault women, definitely exist. 


Stacy, Goody, and Sigourney Weaver as Cisserus in Vamps
Also, get this: I turned 33 six months ago. I still have my crappy 35-dollar Blackberry that my sister’s dog spent an hour chewing on. (There are bite marks on the fucking battery.) Let me just say, I could relate to the commentary about youth culture in this film. Heckerling makes wonderful observations about technology, with constant mentions of Twitter, Facebook, texting (there’s a funny reference to someone being in a “textual relationship” due to lack of real-life communication), and other technological stuff I’m probably forgetting because I don’t know what it is. While the film definitely celebrates youth culture, especially in its appreciation of women’s fashion (which reminded me so much of Heckerling’s famous film Clueless), it also juxtaposes that celebration with a critique of the value our society places on youth. That theme comes into play throughout the film, but the focus on women and aging sharpens with the introduction of the head vampire in charge.

Two words: Sigourney Weaver. Do we not adore her? The Alien films, mainly due to Weaver’s badass role as Ellen Ripley, remain one of the quintessential go-to franchises for getting that much-needed feminist fix that Hollywood movies today seem less willing to provide. (Quick shout out to Hunger Games, though!) And Weaver’s role in Vamps as Cisserus, the head vampire, or “Stem,” as they refer to the few vampires who possess the power to turn people into vampires, displays some feminist qualities—strength, leadership, and ambition, to name a few—but her character isn’t without flaws.

While the other vamps fear Weaver’s character—because she’s In Charge—they mainly fear her because she’s the evil, murderous villain. She obsesses over acquiring the love of young men, and when she doesn’t get it, well, you know, she eats them. In many ways, she reminds me of a vampiric version of Miranda Priestly, Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada. She often summons Goody and Stacy (by psychically speaking to them), and it’s almost always to make them model clothing. (Ha!) See, vampires can’t see themselves in mirrors (invisible!), so Weaver wants to look at these women wearing her very youthful, fashionable clothing so that she can visualize what it possibly looks like on her. Eventually though, Cisserus’ power goes so far to her head that she begins putting the other vampires in danger, and the tagline for the last act of the film basically becomes “This Bitch Needs to Die.” 


Vampires hanging out at the club
A woman-in-charge who becomes an evil, power-hungry bitch who ruins lives? Where have I seen that before? (Clue: EVERYWHERE.) I did get the sense from Vamps, though, that it’s making light of that trope rather than relishing in it, and casting feminist film icon Weaver in that role further pushes it toward satire. An interview with Weaver in Collider sheds a bit more light on that:
Collider: What made you decide to jump into the vampire genre with Vamps?

Weaver: Well, I’m a big Amy Heckerling fan, and I also loved the character. She was so unrepentant … I love playing delicious, evil parts like that.

Collider: How does your character fit into the story?

Weaver: She is the person who turned the girls into vampires. So, they have to do her bidding, and she’s very unreasonable and demanding. I would have to say that the one change I made was that I thought she was not really enjoying herself very much, in the original script. I thought, “What’s not to enjoy?” She’s 2,000 years old, she can have anything, she can have anyone, she can do what she wants, so I wanted her to be totally in-the-moment. So, I talked to Amy about it and she just evolved that way. She’s a really happy vampire. She digs it.

(I have to admit, I can kind of get behind a woman—vampire or not—saying, “Fuck it; I own this town.”)
Most of the descriptions and plot summaries I’ve read of Vamps say things like: “Two female vampires in modern-day New York City are faced with daunting romantic possibilities” … (from imdb). True, but not quite. It’s ridiculous to reduce the film to the status of cheesy rom-com because, while both Stacy and Goody somewhat struggle with their hetero-romantic relationships, Vamps ultimately celebrates the friendship and love between the two lead women. (I will say that I have a feminist critique of the ending, but I can’t give it away YET; the movie only recently got picked up by Anchor Bay Films and will be released in theaters around Halloween.)

Stacy and Goody at the club
Overall, it’s pretty significant that I left the theater feeling that this movie—a vampire movie that follows most of the same vampire tropes as all vampire movies—explores something new. It’s also disappointing that I left with that feeling. Because when I thought about it later, I realized what felt so new to me was the depiction of a female friendship that seemed wonderfully authentic. Their dude problems were fairly secondary; their loyalty to each other trumped all other obstacles. Their friendship, in fact, resembled my real-life friendships with women: we don’t fight over men; we don’t sit around endlessly talking about men; we don’t get together and stuff our faces with entire cakes if a man doesn’t call.

That’s why this close relationship between Goody and Stacy is so important to see on The Big Screen in 2012.

In an interview conducted with the director Amy Heckerling by Women and Hollywood, Melissa Silverstein asks the question, “Do you have any comment on the fact that only 5% of movies are directed by women?” Heckerling’s response? “It’s a disgusting industry. I don’t know what else to say. Especially now. I can’t stomach most of the movies about women. I just saw a movie last night—I don’t want to say the name—but again with the fucking wedding, and the only time women say anything is about men.”

Word.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: ‘Roseanne’s’ Discussion of Abortion Nearly Twenty-Five Years Ago Highlights the Current Feminist Backlash

The cast of Roseanne
I grew up watching Roseanne. The show first aired in 1988—when I was ten years old—and it ended after 9 seasons, around the time I graduated high school. The fact that the show now appears in reruns on various television stations, during all hours of the day and night, often makes me feel like the Conners have never not been a part of my life. I saw myself (and my family) in that show, and I identified with the characters and their struggles, particularly surrounding financial issues and social status.

Unfortunately, families like the Conners just don’t exist on TV now, which is extremely problematic considering families today—and women in particular—continue to feel the never-ending effects of Wall Street tanking our economy. We simply no longer see the realities of women’s lives accurately reflected back at us in the media. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that Roseanne, a television show starring a fat, working-class, unapologetically outspoken matriarch; a television show that effectively dealt with racism, classism, feminism, gay marriage (depicting the very first gay marriage in the history of television); a television show openly addressing sexism and misogyny, and yes—a woman’s right to choose; and finally, a television show that first aired nearly 25 years ago, is a far more progressive television show than anything currently gracing the network airwaves in 2012.

I grew up in Middletown, Ohio—a small town that very recently made the Forbes’ Top Ten List of Fastest Dying Towns—and the characters on Roseanne appeared all around me in my day-to-day life in the form of factory workers, cashiers, fast-food employees, friends and family members who lived in trailer parks, those of us graduating from high school who had no idea how we’d ever pay for college, and those struggling to pay bills in a community that didn’t offer much in terms of employment opportunities aside from the local steel mill, where a majority of our parents worked. I especially identified with Darlene, who I watched morph from a snarky young tomboy who played basketball and had a close relationship with her father, into a successful young woman with a college degree who fought for animal rights, never let men control her life (unlike her older sister Becky), and who ultimately ended up with the same strong personality traits as her mother Roseanne, even though their relationship suffered through serious rough patches over the years.

Roseanne working as a server

While I managed to leave Middletown, Ohio and attend college, (by taking out a shitload of student loans) most of my family still lives there, and over the years I’ve been forced to watch my hometown crumble (literally, businesses are falling the fuck apart) like so many other Midwestern cities that’ve been ignored by our government and taken advantage of by big banks and Wall Street tycoons. I suppose my inability to identify with most characters, families, and storylines on current network television led me to begin my Netflix marathon of Roseanne last year. I craved seeing the reality of a family (and a woman!) negatively impacted by the economy doing their best to make ends meet. While vampire and zombie TV creates a nice little escape (and interesting metaphors, for sure) from the bullshit most of the country is experiencing right now, I wanted to watch a show that didn’t merely offer escape but reminded the world that these families exist; this is a serious crisis; and we are not going to ignore it.

And so that’s how my love affair with Roseanne and the Conner family re-began.

Darlene Conner

Most of the time I played it in the background while I ate dinner or washed the dishes, because, for the many reasons I stated above, I found the hilari-dysfunction of the Conner family comforting. Then one night while I surfed the net, barely paying attention to the show, I heard Roseanne’s sister Jackie say, “Do you think you might have an abortion?” I honestly don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment—I looked up from my computer in shock, like, Did someone just fucking say the word “abortion” on TV?

Many writers gave wonderful examples during Reproduction & Abortion Week of how abortion—both the portrayal of abortion and the word itself (see Knocked Up)—have been all but avoided in recent films and television, although current shows like Friday Night Lights and Grey’s Anatomy certainly offer hope. But Roseanne’s two-episode arc about a woman’s right to choose—which aired in 1994 (almost 20 years ago)—discussed abortion so openly and unapologetically, especially in its acknowledgment of men’s role in the decision-making process (hint: it’s the woman’s decision, always), that it honestly floored me. 

 
Roseanne taking a pregnancy test

The premise goes like this: Roseanne and Dan want to have another baby, and she becomes pregnant. They find out from a nurse after Roseanne’s amniocentesis (to determine the sex of the baby), that there might be complications in her pregnancy. They can’t get in touch with the doctor to find out the exact problems (because it’s Thanksgiving!), and that sets up the catalyst for a long, two-episode discussion about whether Roseanne—depending on the extent of the complications—would want to have the baby or have an abortion. Roseanne feels as though Dan is pushing her to have an abortion, whereas she’s leaning toward having the baby, regardless of the circumstances. The two episodes illustrate the problems that arise when several characters weigh-in on Roseanne’s decision. 

 
One of the first conversations about Roseanne’s pregnancy happens between Roseanne and her sister Jackie: 
Roseanne [talking about her husband Dan]: All’s he thinks about is himself, you know. He’s worried that a sick baby might be an inconvenience to him, so he’s trying to hint around that I should have an abortion.

Jackie: Oh, I’m sure he knows it’s your decision. I mean, he must respect your right to choose.

Roseanne: Yeah, as long as I choose to agree with him.

A few minutes later, Dan enters the kitchen, interrupting their conversation, and Roseanne asks him to start painting the baby’s crib. He suggests that they wait to paint the crib until they hear back from the doctor. Roseanne gets angry, and after he leaves the kitchen (presumably to begin painting the crib), Jackie and Roseanne pick up where they left off:
Jackie: You’re right, you know, he was pushing you. I thought Dan was better than that.

Roseanne: Why? He’s a man. You know, this is the only area in the world [circles stomach with her hand] that they can’t control, and it drives them crazy ’cause it doesn’t come with a remote. [audience laughter]

I particularly like this interaction between Roseanne and Jackie because it shows two women talking about a woman’s right to choose (using that exact language!) as if it’s obvious that it’s her right. And neither of them lets Dan off the hook for putting pressure on Roseanne, however subtle it may be, to have an abortion. We find out later though, during a discussion at a bar between Fred (Jackie’s husband) and Dan, that Dan does seem to understand that the decision about the baby ultimately resides with Roseanne:
Fred: I just don’t think you’d be a terrible person if you demanded some control over what Roseanne’s gonna do … Look, having a kid, it’s half yours, this is a 50/50 proposition.

Dan: Yeah, when it finally comes out. You gotta admit, Fred, this is different.

I like this interaction between Dan and Fred, too, because it illustrates a larger cultural problem in the conversation surrounding abortion and a woman’s right to choose: where do fathers fit into the equation? Even though Fred thinks men have the right to “demand some control” (yikes, current War on Women!) over what a woman does with her body, Dan, regardless of his personal feelings about abortion, understands that he—and men—should not exercise control over women’s bodies.
DJ Conner
The most compelling conversation about Roseanne’s right to choose surprisingly occurs between Roseanne and DJ, her twelve-year-old son. After hearing so much yelling and whispering between his parents over the course of several days, DJ becomes concerned that his mom might be sick. Roseanne decides to tell DJ the truth about the situation.
Roseanne: Okay, I’m gonna tell you the truth because you’re not a little kid anymore. I’m okay, but, um, there’s a chance that something’s wrong with the baby.

DJ: Oh.

Roseanne: Yeah. So I have to, uh, make a decision whether to have it or not.

DJ: You mean you might have an abortion?

Roseanne: Uhh, yeah, that. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just a very, very complicated decision, DJ.

DJ: Why?

Roseanne: Because I have wanted to have a baby for a long time.

DJ: Well if you decide not to have the baby, when you come back from the hospital, we can take care of you.

Roseanne: Hey, I know you’re gonna be a man someday, but see, you cannot do this.

DJ: Do what?

Roseanne: No man has any right to tell any woman what she should do in a situation like this.

DJ: I’m not, I’m just saying that if you do have the baby and it’s sick, we can take care of the baby too.

Roseanne: So you mean you’re saying like, uh, saying what—that you would support any decision I make?

DJ: Yeah.

Roseanne: Oh, well [audience laughter] … thanks. Thanks a lot, DJ. It really makes me feel better that you can handle the truth.

This scene in particular moved me. DJ—a young boy who hasn’t yet been negatively influenced by the Mass Cultural Ownership of Women’s Bodies—reserves all judgment regarding his mother’s decision about the baby. He says the word “abortion” in a matter-of-fact way, as if he’s asking his mother what time it is. He offers to support her, no matter what she decides, and he makes it clear that he understands the decision is only hers. This scene also represents the first time Roseanne says outright, “No man has any right to tell any woman what she should do in a situation like this.” Admittedly, DJ can’t fully comprehend the complexity of such a decision, or how life might change for the entire family if a new baby needed special attention; however, it never occurs to him to try and influence Roseanne’s choice. Again, I attribute that to DJ’s innocence, specifically surrounding his ignorance of the dominant cultural narratives. (See the recent all-male birth control panel and the mostly male-dominated GOP’s attack on Planned Parenthood and, you know, women’s healthcare in general.)

Roseanne and Dan eventually find out that their baby is healthy. Roseanne decides to give birth to her. But that isn’t the point of this episode arc at all. The discussion of choice, especially when 1 in 3 women chooses abortion, matters. The media, including television and film, needs to accurately reflect the realities of women’s lives because it matters. The more we see what women truly struggle with, depicted in an honest way, the more we can erase the stigmas associated with abortion and women’s reproductive rights in general. These episodes aired 25 years ago, and—amid the absolutely embarrassing and unacceptable War on Women—puts the current (undeniable) feminist backlash in perspective.

Biopic and Documentary Week: Women and Biopics–Where Are the Best Picture Nominations?

Women in Biopics
In November 2009, I wrote a brief analysis of the films that won the Academy Award for Best Picture between 2000 and 2010, ultimately asking the question, “What do these films have in common?” The answer is, of course, men. With the exception of Crash (which qualifies as an ensemble drama in all its racist glory), the Best Picture-winning films all center around men, with women either showcased as sidekicks or merely fulfilling one of the ridiculous tropes that drives the (male) narrative forward.
We’ve talked here before about the importance of looking at and analyzing pop culture–like the Academy Awards–even though we’re all well aware at Bitch Flicks that these types of ceremonies don’t actually honor The Best in Cinema. However, paying attention to what’s happening in pop culture helps us understand what society values as important. And according to the past 40 years or so of Oscar-nominated biopics, society thinks pretty highly of White Dudes.
Here is a list of Oscar-nominated biopics about men (since 1976), accompanied by critics’ ratings on Rotten Tomatoes. Asterisks denote Best Picture Winners.

*Patton (97%)

Lenny (100%)

Bound for Glory (88%)

The Elephant Man (91%)

Raging Bull (98%)

Reds (94%)

*Gandhi (88%)

*Amadeus (96%)

*The Last Emperor (91%)

Born on the Fourth of July (89%)

My Left Foot (100%)

Bugsy (88%)

JFK (84%)

In the Name of the Father (95%)

Shine (91%)

*A Beautiful Mind (78%)

The Aviator (87%)

Finding Neverland (83%)

Good Night, and Good Luck (94%)

Ray (81%)

Capote (90%)

Milk (94%)

Frost/Nixon (92%)

The Fighter (91%)

*The King’s Speech (95%)

The Social Network (96%)

127 Hours (93%)

Moneyball (94%)

———-

Here is a list of Oscar-nominated biopics about women (since 1976), accompanied by critics’ ratings on Rotten Tomatoes. Asterisk denotes Best Picture Winner.

Coal Miner’s Daughter (100%)

*Out of Africa (63%)

Elizabeth (82%)

Erin Brockovich (83%)

The Queen (97%)

The Blind Side (66%)

———-

So the only biopic about a woman to win the Oscar for Best Picture is Out of Africa, which–based on Rotten Tomatoes scores–critics disliked way more than any other nominated biopics within the past 40 years. 
I don’t have much analysis to offer here because it feels quite obvious to me that 1) Hollywood doesn’t care that much about women’s stories (gasp!) and 2) the stories that Hollywood does manage to tell about women often get much less critical praise. Is that because the films about women are just … worse? Or is it that, again–as is the case with everything from parenting to politics–we hold women to a much higher standard, imposing a level of scrutiny that makes it impossible to focus on women’s successes in the same ways we showcase the achievements of men?
However …
We love our women entertainers! I remember taking a class in college in which we discussed the dynamics of visibility in the patriarchy; we love women and minorities who sing for us, make us laugh, dance for us, play sports for us–but do we want them in leadership positions? Fuck no. And if one looks at a list of biopics in general (i.e. biopics that weren’t necessarily nominated for Oscars or other major awards), it’s easy to see the disproportionate number of biopics and documentaries focusing on women in the entertainment industry. That isn’t to say, of course, that entertainers don’t influence society in significant ways, but they’re less able to directly do so than, oh, women in high government offices, for instance.
I’m reminded of an important documentary, Miss Representation, which we wrote about here, and the astute tagline, “You can’t be what you can’t see.” We’ve got two Linda Lovelace biopics on the way. Wouldn’t it be nice to get, like, a Harriet Tubman biopic?