Author: Stephanie Rogers

Sunday Recap

Afghan Women Fight to Not Have Their Rights Bargained Away in ‘Peace Unveiled’ in ‘Women, War & Peace’ Series: In the documentary Peace Unveiled, the third installment of Women, War & Peace, written by Abigail E. Disney and directed by Gini Reticker (and WWP series co-creators), we witness 3 tenacious female activists, Parliamentarian Shinkai Karokhail, Hasina Safi and Shahida Hussein, struggling for their voices to be heard in Afghanistan’s treacherous peace negotiations. Following the 2010 surge of U.S. troops, the Afghan government arranged peace negotiations with the toppled Taliban. The women valiantly fight to protect their gains and not have their rights bargained away.
On Entertainment Weekly’s “42 Unforgettable Nude Scenes”: This speaks to the cultural desirability (and also the perceived comedic potential*) of bodies belonging to people of color. Although people of color are often objectified and exoticized for consumption, none–or very few–of these incidents have been deemed “unforgettable” by the fine folks at EW. On one level, it’s good that we don’t see the vulgar objectification of people of color here, in a piece that is essentially based on objectification (or, EW might argue, celebrating memorable nude scenes), but it also peculiar and disturbing that the list is so damn white.
Profiling Gender: Punishing the Professional for the Personal on ‘Criminal Minds’: Employing embedded feminism and enlightened sexism, Criminal Minds uses familiar tropes to reinforce the idea that women can either be professionals or mothers, but never both. As a prime-time drama based almost entirely in the workplace, how women are treated on the show becomes an important representation, and subtle reinforcement, of the double binds still faced by working women. Criminal Minds, and prime-time shows like it, reinforce double binds because they reach a wide audience, and are typically employed in conjunction with what Susan J. Douglas termed embedded feminism, which is “the way in which women’s achievements, or their desire for achievement, are simply a part of the cultural landscape.” The cultural landscape of the Criminal Minds universe is that women FBI agents are valued, trusted, and competent members of the team. Their abilities and equality within the institution are uncontested; therefore, the workplace goals of the women’s movement have been accomplished, and no longer require representation.
Preview: The Iron Lady: It’s also interesting to think about the film in the context of women in politics–again, I’m thinking primarily of the US–and what it takes for a woman to be successful. At the beginning of the trailer we see an emphasis on her appearance and her voice (which reminds me of The King’s Speech, last year’s Best Picture Oscar winner–the similarity is likely no accident), and the importance of maintaining an image of leadership and power. Our culture is obsessed with image, and we see how closely scrutinized female politicians are–from Hillary Clinton’s pantsuits and alleged cleavage when she was running for president in 2008, to Michele Bachmann’s french manicure and shoe choices this year, the media tears down Women who Want to Lead.
Guest Writer Wednesday: Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan: Viewers’ and Critics’ Miss-steps in a Dance with a Female Protagonist: Many feminist film reviewers also lambasted the misogyny of the ballet’s artistic director, Thomas (played by Vincent Cassel), even though his character’s inherent sexism (referring to his principle dancer as his “Little Princess,” for example) is essential to the themes of repression and being able to break free from said repression. Jill Dolan, at The Feminist Spectator, says that “As her [Nina’s] relationship with Thomas gets more and more entwined, she begins to suffer from a kind of Stockholm Syndrome, idealizing and even identifying with Thomas and his mercurial cruelty.” This is begging the question that Nina is the victim–would we ever assume a grown man in a similar role was the victim? Perhaps we’d glance at the notion, but never give him the simple, passive role of “victim.” Relegating Nina to the role of the victim belittles and negates the larger focus of the film.
Movie Review: Martha Marcy May Marlene: And still, in both of these environments, bonds between women flourish. Martha and Lucy have their differences, but it is clear that they both want to have a relationship again, and they are determined to do whatever they can to make that possible, even while Ted makes Martha feel threatened and unwelcome. Meanwhile, Zoe takes Marcy May under her wing and eases her into the community; this relationship is mirrored later in the film, when Sarah joins the cult and Marcy May transitions from initiated to initiator. Despite the traumas witnessed and experienced by these women, their relationships stay strong. They share support, laughter and strength in the face of abuse, time and time again. Complex relationships between women aren’t commonplace in film these days, so Martha Marcy May Marlene is a refreshing change of pace in this regard.

Profiling Gender: Punishing the Professional for the Personal on ‘Criminal Minds’

This is a guest post by Brandy Grabow.  

Employing embedded feminism and enlightened sexism, Criminal Minds uses familiar tropes to reinforce the idea that women can either be professionals or mothers, but never both. As a prime-time drama based almost entirely in the workplace, how women are treated on the show becomes an important representation, and subtle reinforcement, of the double binds still faced by working women. Criminal Minds, and prime-time shows like it, reinforce double binds because they reach a wide audience, and are typically employed in conjunction with what Susan J. Douglas termed embedded feminism, which is “the way in which women’s achievements, or their desire for achievement, are simply a part of the cultural landscape.” The cultural landscape of the Criminal Minds universe is that women FBI agents are valued, trusted, and competent members of the team. Their abilities and equality within the institution are uncontested; therefore, the workplace goals of the women’s movement have been accomplished, and no longer require representation.

When we look closely at the numbers of women portrayed as professionals in these shows and the number of women actually working in these professions, it is clear that feminism is embedded in dramas like Criminal Minds. In 2009 Kimberly DeTardo-Bora published the results of a study in which she conducted a feminist content analysis of popular prime-time crime dramas from January 2007 through May 2007. The details of her study are fascinating, and I encourage you to read the rest of her article in the journal Women & Criminal Justice. In order to capture the wide variety of professions depicted in crime dramas, researchers looked at the “criminal justice” field, which included police, lawyers, judges, federal agents, etc. What the study found was that among the main characters in their sample of crime dramas, 54.9% were male, and 40.6% were female. In addition to the nearly equal numbers of men and women, women appeared to work in the same types of positions as men; they were just as likely to be prosecutors, or criminal investigators. While in prime-time dramas women appear to have achieved near equality with men in the criminal justice fields, as DeTardo-Bora points out, the reality is slightly different: “According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics (2006), 26% of criminal investigators and detectives [were] female. In [De-Tardo-Bardo’s] study, then, female criminal investigators were in fact overrepresented (39.3%).” Even though Criminal Minds was not in the sample of crime dramas for this study the gender breakdown of its cast reflects the overrepresentation of women. Of the seven main characters (six criminal investigators, and one technical analyst) 4 are male, and 3 female. This overrepresentation of women visually reinforces the idea that the goals of feminism, at least the numerical ones, have been achieved. Women characters, then, do not have to overtly espouse feminist principles, because in their television reality there is no need for them.

As a part of the cultural landscape, embedded feminism, suggests that overt sexism does not have to be confronted, and enlightened sexism can circulate freely. Douglas defines enlightened sexism as, “[the insistence] that women have made plenty of progress because of feminism – indeed, full equality has allegedly been achieved—so now it’s okay, even amusing, to resurrect sexist stereotypes of girls and women.” The number of women represented on a show like Criminal Minds supports the notion that equality has been achieved. The fact that women are also overwhelmingly the victims of crime on the show can go unremarked, as can the increasingly voyeuristic torture-porn like depictions of female cadavers. The embedded feminism of the Criminal Minds world also masks the enlightened sexism in the form of double binds the women investigators face.

Although there are several problematic patterns in the way the writers of Criminal Minds treat the female agents on the show, I want to focus on the women characters as they are written off the show. On June 14th 2010 CBS announced that it would not renew AJ Cook’s contract for the sixth season, which as Michael Aussielo put it in his “Breaking” report for Entertainment Weekly.com, “is a fancy way of saying girlfriend was fired.” Not renewing AJ Cook’s contract would mean regular character Jennifer Jareau would have to be written out. Eventually, for what was publicized as financial reasons, CBS also drastically reduced the episode count of Paget Brewster’s character Emily Prentiss for the sixth season. While other women have left the show, I’d like to focus on the season six treatment of AJ Cook, and Paget Brewster’s characters. During the course of the season each character is left with a no-choice-choice that traps them in the womb/brain double bind, and in the end each is punished by losing her position on the investigative team.

For Agent Jareau the womb/brain bind takes the form of family vs. work dilemmas that have plagued her character since she announced her pregnancy at the end of Season 3. Although her pregnancy didn’t seem to have a major effect on her ability to do her job, or travel with the team, once she gave birth to her son, Henry, her character routinely faced these family vs. work conflicts. Until finally, her status as a mother became a reason to question her ability to do her job (was the actress herself pregnant?) Yes the pregnancy was quickly written into the show for her. I think that’s part of why things didn’t get overtly sexist until later.

Agent Jareau’s job as a part of the Behavior Analysis Unit’s team is to choose which cases they will pursue. In the “Mosely Lane” episode of season five her ability to do her job is questioned when she begins to see connections between a recent kidnapping and a case that is 8 years old. As she and Agent Prentiss present the links between the cases to the team, Agent Morgan challenges her by saying, “Have you thought about why you suddenly believe [in the connections]? Do you think it might be because you are a mother?” He, and the other male agents in the room, remain unconvinced the cases are related until Agent Prentiss lays out the similarities, and ends by saying, “…and, I am not a mother.” It is as if Agent Jareau’s status as a mother makes her ability to see connections between the cases suspect; whereas, Agent Prentiss’ status as “not a mother” somehow lends credence to her analysis. Although Agent Jareau has faced difficult choices between work and family in the past, this is the first time her ability to do her job is doubted based solely upon the fact that she is a mother.

The “Mosely Lane” incident is significant because it lays the foundation for the no-choice-choice Agent Jareau must make when she is later forced from the team. The second, and her final, episode of season six is simply titled “J.J.”, Agent Jareau’s nickname. The episode begins with a tense meeting between Agent Jareau, team leader Aaron Hotchner, and his boss, Section Chief Erin Strauss. During the meeting we learn that Jareau has rejected recruitment offers from the Pentagon without letting either Hotchner or Strauss know. As Strauss tries to convince Jareau that the Pentagon is offering her a better job, her primary argument is that, “…there’s less travel with this job, you could stay home with Henry.” The implication being that Agent Jareau’s ability to mother is compromised by the travel required in her current position. By the end of the episode we learn that Jareau has been forcibly transferred from the team to the Pentagon. Since Strauss’ only support for her claim that the Pentagon job would be better was “less travel” and “more time at home,” the course of Agent Jareau’s professional life is now being determined by her personal status as a mother. In the previous season, Agent Jareau’s ability to do her job was questioned because of her role as a mother; and her ability to mother is now suspect because of the travel associated with her job. Forced into taking the promotion, her no-choice-choice is to keep a job by accepting a position she does not want. Therefore, Agent Jareau’s removal from her team can be interpreted as a punishment for attempting to be both a mother and an agent.

Although she is, in her own words, “not a mother,” Agent Prentiss finds herself in a form of the womb/brain bind, and punished by removal from her team. When the two episode arc that marks the end of Prentiss’ presence on the show begins, a case from her past as a CIA operative resurfaces. While undercover to take down an ex-IRA arms dealer, Prentiss becomes romantically involved with Ian Doyle. As her involvement in the case is revealed to the team, we are initially led to believe Doyle, seeking revenge on the woman who betrayed him, is hunting her down. At first it appears that Prentiss’ romantic past, specifically her willingness to use her sexuality to get to Doyle, has come back to haunt her. However, in a series of flashbacks we learn that Doyle revealed the existence of his son, Declan, to her by asking her to take on the role of the boy’s mother. Knowing she is undercover and that the relationship will end when the case is over, she refuses.

In the present as Doyle is about to kill Prentiss, she reveals she has actually compromised her career by acting, like a mother, to protect Declan after his father’s arrest. She explains that she did not tell her superiors of Declan’s existence until she had faked his death. She states, she knew what “they [CIA/Interpol] would do to him” in order to get to Doyle. Prentiss was faced with a no-choice-choice between acting as a surrogate mother to a terrorist’s son (putting herself in danger from Doyle), and acting as an international agent giving him up to the authorities, who she knew would harm him psychologically (at the very least). Prentiss chose to act as a surrogate mother to Declan, protecting him by faking his death, effectively hiding him from his father and the authorities. Choosing to act like a mother in the past is punished in the present when, for her own safety, Prentiss must fake her death and walk away from the job, and team she loves.

That both Agents Jareau and Prentiss are made to leave their team based on either their status as a mother, or their willingness to act like one when faced with a no-choice-choice, is a clear example of the embedded sexism within the show. It is a weekly reminder to professional women that the same double binds they have faced throughout history still apply. They can either be mothers at home, or professionals in the workplace, but not both. The embedded feminism in such dramas, only makes the messages of enlightened sexism that much stronger. Embedding feminism, even if it is primarily through the numbers of women, into dramas like Criminal Minds provides the writers with the opportunity to show the world what real feminist change in the work place could look like, instead of trapping women in the same old double binds.

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Brandy Grabow completed her MA in English at the University of North Carolina Greensboro, and her BA in Theatre Arts from Minnesota State University, Mankato. At UNCG she served as a writing consultant and the Graduate Assistant Director to the Writing Center. As the Coordinator of Writing and Speaking Tutorial Services enjoys working with the diverse students and faculty of NC State.

Afghan Women Fight to Not Have Their Rights Bargained Away in ‘Peace Unveiled’ in ‘Women, War & Peace’ Series

This is a guest post by Megan Kearns. She also contributed reviews of Part 1 and Part 2 of Women, War & Peace.

For the past year, revolutions swept across North Africa and the Middle East. Despite their vocal presence, the media didn’t initially display women’s involvement in the protests. The same could be said in Afghanistan. It appeared the strides women made might be lost as women were shut out of the peace process. But just as they did in the Arab Spring, women strive to play a vital role in the reconstruction of Afghanistan.
In the documentary Peace Unveiled, the third installment of Women, War & Peace, written by Abigail E. Disney and directed by Gini Reticker (and WWP series co-creators), we witness 3 tenacious female activists, Parliamentarian Shinkai Karokhail, Hasina Safi and Shahida Hussein, struggling for their voices to be heard in Afghanistan’s treacherous peace negotiations. Following the 2010 surge of U.S. troops, the Afghan government arranged peace negotiations with the toppled Taliban. The women valiantly fight to protect their gains and not have their rights bargained away.
Hasina Safi, one of the 3,000 members of the Afghan Women’s Network (AWN), a non-partisan NGO working to empower women, visits villages to monitor the programs she coordinates for illiterate women. Classes for women could not be held openly with the Taliban in power. Almost 90% of Afghan women cannot read or write. Through classes, many women are just learning Islam encourages women’s education.
But working women like Safi risk their lives. They receive death threats via horrific letters in the night, telling them they must stop working or else their children will be killed and their homes burned. Safi admits:

When I go out of the house in the morning, I say goodbye to my children and my family because I say that I never know if I’m coming alive back home or not.

 

While women have made massive strides in Afghanistan, a peace deal between the Afghan government and the Taliban, supported by President Karzai, “threatens to trade away their hard-earned freedoms.”
Shinkai Karokhail, a founding member of the Afghan Women Educational Center (AWEC), a non-profit seeking gender equality and ending violence against women and children, was elected to parliament in 2005. Karokhail doesn’t want to see women’s rights erode. She warns:

I am hopeful that my sisters understand the importance of this process…I hope that the Afghan government and, especially, the president, whom women helped elect, do not make a deal that leads Afghan women into miserable lives again.

Women’s lives have drastically improved since the toppling of the Taliban in 2001. In 2004, Afghanistan’s new constitution guaranteed greater equity for women, including the right to vote and 25% of parliamentary seats. Now, women work, girls attend school, have increased healthcare access and can choose not to wear the burqa. Sadly, that doesn’t mean women are empowered everywhere throughout the country.

 

In heavily-populated Kandahar, “the birthplace of the Taliban,” the city is plagued with administrative corruption and armed men terrorizing citizens. “Prominent working women are being assassinated. No one knows who’s doing the killing.” Women must wear the burqa to go into the streets. It’s amazing to think that a new constitution protects women’s rights, yet means nothing here.
Shahida Hussein, a women’s rights activist in Kandahar, stands as a beacon of hope amongst the tumult. Women turn to her with their legal and property problems. Hussein serves as a mediator between them and the courts. Yet she worries:

Women go out with great fear & trepidation. Will there be a suicide attack? Will American tanks or NATO forces fire on people?

Despite the supposed protection of U.S. troops, women aren’t safe here. In fact, Afghanistan remains one of the most dangerous countries in the world for women. An anonymous woman wearing a burqa tells Hussein:

When I go out I’m terrified. We are powerless. What kind of government is this? Neither the Americans nor the government rule here. The Americans are on one street and the Taliban on another. They can see each other!

After the end of the Soviet occupation in 1988, civil war erupted in Afghanistan. The U.S. supplied arms to the Mujahideen (guerilla fighters), fueling the turmoil that ripped the country apart. Homes were destroyed, people raped, burned and massacred. The Taliban emerged from this chaos, coming to power in 1996. Karokhail said:

During the time of the Taliban, women endured the worst era. They were imprisoned in their homes, every form of activity in their lives was taken away.

For 5 years, the Taliban ruthlessly oppressed women. They were forced to wear the burqa; if women showed even a hand, they were beaten. “Banned from public life,” they weren’t allowed to work and couldn’t go to a doctor without a male relative, even if in mortal danger. Those years “haunt women who are trying to modernize their country.”
Women strive to be heard; worried the Taliban’s demands will undermine their rights. Yet President Karzai and the government continually shut them out of peace negotiations. No Afghan women were invited to the London Conference for the Afghan peace talks. Male politicians tell the women they must now “surrender their rights” in order to achieve peace with the Taliban. Instead, the women don’t listen, choosing to mobilize so they can be included in Karzai’s peace jirga, or council.
President Karzai promised women only 50 out of 1600 seats at the jirga. But Secretary of State Hillary Clinton pressures Karzai to secure women 20% of the delegate seats. Safi, Hussein and Karokhail all attend to advocate for women’s rights.
On June 2, 2010, the day of the peace jirga, the women take part in the first public debate amongst Afghan citizens to help end the war. Despite attacks from the Taliban, the jirga continues. Karokhail knows the symbolical significance of women’s attendance in negotiations. She asserts:

It was the first time that Afghan women came together with Afghan men and discuss peace. Maybe it was even very symbolical but it was like breaking something, like break the culture and impose the presence of women.

 

Amidst peace negotiations, a Parliamentary election looms. Karokhail was the only woman running for Parliament in Kabul. Unsure she should even enter politics, thinking she couldn’t accomplish much, Karokhail’s friends convinced her that this “is the most important time” to run. Facing campaign fraud and candidates assassinated, Karokhail bravely persists in her re-election campaign. She knows that in order to win, she needs the respect of the men. Karokhail declares:

Most of these men also make decisions for their wives to whom they should vote. You have to convince them to support women.

But as research in India has shown, once you get women into political office, both men and women are more likely to support more women serving in office. It’s vital to have more elected officials like Karokhail, staunch advocates for women’s rights.
When another peace conference is held in Kabul with over 70 nations in attendance, Safi and AWN representatives meet with Ambassador Karl Eikenberry to garner women a seat. As a result of their meeting, a women’s representative will have 3 minutes to address the conference with their concerns.
Secretary Clinton addresses the Kabul Conference, insisting on the importance of including women in Afghanistan’s peace process. She asserts:

The women in Afghanistan are rightly worried that in the very legitimate search for peace, their rights will be sacrificed…None of us can allow that to happen. No peace that sacrifices women’s rights is a peace we can afford to support.

Palwasha Hassan, an AWN Representative and Karokhail’s sister, spoke as a representative for the women. She insists that “for peace to take hold, everyone in society must be protected.” Hassan became “the first woman ever to address the world from an Afghan stage.” She passionately declares:

Critically, women’s rights & achievements must not be compromised in any peace negotiations or accords…Women’s experiences of both war and peace-building must be recognized in the peace process.

But her words go unheard. When the conference concludes, no one “stipulates that women must take part in reshaping the nation.” Disappointed and disheartened at the lack of support for women, Hussein laments:

Girls in Kandahar have had acid thrown in their faces. Girls have been assassinated. They have been kept at home by their fathers. Schools are being burned. In the rural districts, there are no schools at all.

…What astonishes me, what my final issue is that the world community came, saying, “We will work for the people of Afghanistan, especially for the women.” It’s worse than being a dead person in Kandahar. We don’t have a life anymore.

Following the Kabul Conference, President Karzai forms a Peace Council to reconcile with the Taliban. Secretary Clinton sends U.S. Ambassador-at-Large for Global Women’s Issues Melanne Verveer to ensure women participate in negotiations. Ambassador Verveer worries Karzai doesn’t want to include women in negotiations. But she hopes to secure women at least one-third of the seats on the peace council.
When President Karzai finally announces the Peace Council representatives, the government shuts women out again. Equality remains elusive.
Despite barriers and set-backs, Safi remains resilient. She asserts:

I don’t want to go back. I want to make it easy for my daughters. We will struggle; we will struggle till our last breath. We cannot do anything alone. We are a part of the world. We have to be identified to the world. The world has to support us in this.

Women provide a unique perspective when included in the decision-making process. Yet across the globe, with gender parity in politics a rarity, women are continually relegated to the sidelines of most peace negotiations. Until women and men can participate equally, their rights protected, no peace can exist. Governments must learn that if they ever hope to attain lasting peace, they need to start listening to the voices of their entire population.
Afghan women face an uncertain future as they fight to hold onto their rights. After 9/11, I remember the rallying cries of U.S. politicians claiming we liberated the women of Afghanistan from the Taliban’s totalitarian regime. But all of the women’s freedoms they’ve garnered for themselves threaten to be taken away. The international community must ensure that never happens.
Watch the full episode of Peace Unveiled online or on PBS.
—–

Megan Kearns is a blogger, freelance writer and activist. She blogs at The Opinioness of the World, a feminist vegan site. Her work has also appeared at Arts & Opinion, Fem2pt0, Italianieuropei, Open Letters Monthly, and A Safe World for Women. She earned her B.A. in Anthropology and Sociology and a Graduate Certificate in Women and Politics and Public Policy. Megan lives in Boston with more books than she will probably ever read in her lifetime.

Megan contributed reviews of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, Something Borrowed, !Women Art Revolution, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, The Kids Are All Right (for 2011 Best Picture Nominee Review Series), The Reader (for 2009 Best Picture Nominee Review Series), Man Men (for Mad Men Week), Game of Thrones and The Killing (for Emmy Week 2011), Alien/Aliens (for Women in Horror Week 2011), and I Came to Testify in the  Women, War & Peace series. She was the first writer featured as a Monthly Guest Contributor. 

 

Sunday Recap

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks: pieces from Racialicious, The Crunk Feminist Collective, About-Face, Pandagon, etc.

‘Pray the Devil Back to Hell’ Portrays How the Women of Liberia, United in Peace, Changed a Nation: As the war progressed, the women wanted to take more drastic measures. Inspired by their faith, the women donned white garb to declare to people they stood for peace. Thousands of women protested at the fish market each and every day, a strategic location visible to Taylor. Carrying a huge banner stating, “The women of Liberia want peace now.” It was the first time in Liberia’s history where Christian & Muslim women came together.

Why Should Men Care? An Interview with Matt Damon: “Why I wanted to do Women, War & Peace was because I thought it said something really important about the nature of war and the nature of the experience of women. And—as a guy who’s raising four girls—that matters to me. It matters to me anyway, but that makes it matter to me more.” — Matt Damon

Guest Writer Wednesday: A Review in Conversation of Twin Peaks: We have both admitted to fondness for the more fringe female characters like the Log Lady, Nadine, and Lucy, but they, and all the other women, really only exist according to their relationships with men.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Why Watch Romantic Comedies?: The romantic comedy genre gets a lot of flak. It’s considered a genre that’s more “shallow” than drama, but not funny enough to be a “real” comedy. Is it any coincidence that the romantic comedy is one of the few film genres, and possibly the only film genre, that regularly features women?

Why Facebook’s “Occupy a Vagina” Event Is Not Okay [TW for discussions of rape and sexual assault]: It’s important to note that even the language–occupy a vagina–divorces women from their own bodies. It’s a form of dismemberment, and I’ll say it again: we live in a rape culture, a culture that reduces women to body parts, whether it’s to sell a product, to promote a film, or for nothing more than reinforcing (and getting off on) patriarchal power. When we use language that prevents us from seeing a person as a whole human being, language that encourages us to view women in particular as a collection of body parts designed for male pleasure (e.g. occupy a vagina), then she exists as nothing more than an object, a fuck-toy, sexually available by default. It might not have been the intent of the event creator to participate in women’s subjugation, but it’s certainly the fucking reality.

Swiffer Reminds Us That Women Are Dirt: It’s remarkable how different the portrayals of the dirt people are: the men-as-dirt ads show a Crocodile Dundee-esque character (also stereotypical) and two buddies lamenting the state of their romantic lives, while the women-as-dirt ads always show a lonely, solitary woman desperate for the kind of attention provided by this wonder mop.

Some Scattered Thoughts on Detective Shows and Geniuses: I’m at a bit of a disadvantage in discussing Medium because I’m only familiar with the first season. Perhaps things get better for Allison in later seasons. Perhaps the men in her life stop expressing so much condescension and distrust toward her and endow her with some Lightman- and/or Monk-esque respect. Perhaps she no longer feels compelled to apologize for her own idiosyncratic crime-solving abilities and develops Lightman’s uber-masculine arrogance about it. (But don’t take that confidence too far, Allison—no one wants to work with a bitch.) At the very least, in the first season of Medium, I sort of love her husband. I mean when is a male rocket scientist ever the sidekick, hmmm?

Why Should Men Care? An Interview With Matt Damon

Matt Damon narrating Women, War & Peace
At Bitch Flicks, we’re featuring reviews of the five-part PBS documentary Women, War & Peace—all by the fabulous Megan Kearns—the first of which we published on October 19th. (Megan’s review of Part Two will appear later today.) Matt Damon narrates the series, and he was interviewed about his participation, explaining why he wanted to be a part of the event and why men should care about how war impacts women, especially when rape is used as a weapon of war. I’m posting the video of the 4-minute interview, but it’s also linked to above (just in case).

 

“Why I wanted to do Women, War & Peace was because I thought it said something really important about the nature of war and the nature of the experience of women. And—as a guy who’s raising four girls—that matters to me. It matters to me anyway, but that makes it matter to me more.” — Matt Damon

Guest Writer Wednesday: Why Watch Romantic Comedies?

some romantic comedies


This guest post by Lady T previously appeared at her blog The Funny Feminist.

A few weeks ago, I announced my intention to tackle 52 romantic comedies over the course of one year. 2012 is the Year of the Romantic Comedy at my blog, and it shall henceforth be dubbed “The Rom-Com Project.” The Rom-Com Project is a completely serious endeavor, a social experiment, and in no way a cynical ploy to get a book deal by writing about a year of doing something. In my post where I first announced the project, I explained my reasons for focusing on the romantic comedy:
I also think that looking at romantic comedies is a worthwhile feminist project. I want to look at how men and women are represented in these films. I want to look at the way romantic expectations are presented in our popular culture. I want to look at issues of consent. I want to look at the way the comedy genre affects the romance genre and vice-versa.

Readers responded well to this post and left me more suggestions than I needed, to the point where I have to decide whether to narrow down the list to 52, or expand the project to “100 Rom-Coms in a Year.”

But why focus on romantic comedies (one might ask)? Why not focus on comedies that happen to feature women?

Well, just for a lark, I looked at the Wikipedia entry on “comedy film” and took note of the different sub-genres listed under the comedy banner, as well as the examples that were mentioned for each genre.

For the fish-out-of-water genre, the entry lists six examples. 0 of 6 of these examples have female protagonists.

For the parody or spoof film genre, the entry lists three examples. 0 of 3 of these examples have female protagonists.

For the anarchic comedy film genre, the entry lists two examples. 0 of 2 of these examples have female protagonists.

For the black comedy film genre, the entry lists fourteen examples. 1 of these 14 examples (Heathers) has a female protagonist without a male co-protagonist, and fewer than half have a female co-protagonist.

I think you can all start to see the pattern here, but let me continue just to belabor the point.

Gross-out films. 4 examples, 0 female protagonists.

Action comedy films. 9 examples, 0 female protagonists.

Comedy horror films. 9 examples, 1 female protagonist (in Scary Movie).

Fantasy comedy films. 6 examples, 2 female co-protagonists (The Princess Bride, Being John Malkovich), 0 female protagonists without male co-protagonists.

Black comedy films. 3 examples, 0 female protagonists.

Sci-fi comedy films. 8 examples, 0 female protagonists.

Military comedy films. 9 examples, 1 female protagonist (Private Benjamin).

Stoner films. 4 examples, 0 female protagonists.

Some might argue with me on particular examples, but it’s obvious that dominant characters in comedy films are overwhelmingly male. (I also understand that Wikipedia is not an entirely accurate source of information, but the examples that are used to represent these different genres explains a lot about our cultural attitudes.)

But what about the romantic comedy?

If you look at the entry on romantic comedies, you see many more films that have female protagonists, or at least female co-protagonists. Especially significant is the list of top-grossing romantic comedies. 22 films are listed. More than half of them have female co-protagonists, some have one female protagonist, and one has (gasp!) more than one female protagonist (Sex and the City).

The romantic comedy genre gets a lot of flak. It’s considered a genre that’s more “shallow” than drama, but not funny enough to be a “real” comedy. Is it any coincidence that the romantic comedy is one of the few film genres, and possibly the only film genre, that regularly features women?

To me, the romantic comedy genre is an example of the struggles women face both as entertainers and as consumers of entertainment.

Love stories are dismissed as “girl stuff” (as though something aimed at women is automatically less than something aimed at men). A male-centric romantic comedy like Knocked Up is something with “mass appeal” when a female-centric romantic comedy like My Best Friend’s Wedding is “girl stuff.” Judd Apatow makes the same type of movie over and over again and gets praised despite the striking similarity in many of his films (down to style, story, and casting), but reviewers of What’s Your Number? can’t resist comparing the movie unfavorably to Bridesmaids, even though “a female protagonist” is almost the only thing those two movies have in common.

It’s a double-edged sword. Romantic comedies are looked upon with scorn, as fluffy and unimportant compared to dramatic films, but also not “edgy” or irreverent enough to be “real” comedies. But if a woman wants to watch a movie that is both a) funny and b) featuring a female main character, she doesn’t have many options available to her.

Sexism is deeply ingrained in our culture. Just look at my last paragraph. I typed the last sentence of that paragraph saying that “if a woman wants to watch a movie…with a female main character…” Then I looked back and realized that I, who tries to make a point of combating stereotypes and gender essentialism, automatically assumed that ONLY women would ever want to watch a movie with a female protagonist. That a man wouldn’t seek out or enjoy a movie with a female protagonist. That a man wouldn’t think a movie with a female protagonist was funny.

I have several problems with the romantic comedy genre. I dislike that women are almost always presented as people who are obsessed with fashion and shopping and shoes. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being obsessed with fashion and shopping and shoes – I would buy Zooey Deschanel’s entire wardrobe if I had the means. I’m only pointing out that we don’t see many female protagonists in rom-coms who are not obsessed with fashion and shopping and shoes, and I would like to see a wider variety of characters.) I dislike that funny women are usually “pretty women in high heels who adorably fall down.” I dislike that women in romantic comedies are almost always teachers and cupcake bakers or art gallery owners or trying to make it in the publishing industry. (Again, not that there’s anything wrong with those careers – I just want more variety.) Or, alternately, these women are high-powered career types whose journeys revolve around letting free-spirited men teach them how to loosen up. (For more of these romantic comedy cliches, read Mindy Kaling’s Flick Chicks, and then pick up Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns. I just finished reading it, and it’s hilarious.)

And yet, despite all of these cliches and stereotypes in romantic comedy films, I still want to spend a year analyzing the genre. I think it’s a worthwhile project because I want to examine our culture’s expectations about men and women and gender and sex and romance, and how romantic comedies play into (or don’t play into) rape culture. I am looking forward to this project.

But I’m not going to a lie. I’m a little annoyed and bitter that, if I wanted to spend a year writing about black comedies starring women, or parodies starring women, or any other comedy genre starring women, I would probably not to be able to come up with a list of 52 movies for any of those genres unless I reviewed a slew of obscure films that most readers wouldn’t recognize.

Final note: Whenever a woman (or a person of color, or disabled person, or gay person, or a person belonging to any marginalized group) writes a piece criticizing the lack of representation in media, it’s only a matter of time before a troll makes a comment along the lines of, “Well, if you think there should be more movies starring [this group], why don’t you write one yourself?” To that, I say, “All in due time. Alllll in due time.” I’m not writing about my super awesome women-centric movie ideas here just yet because I don’t want anyone to steal them. *shifts eyes, holds screenplay closer to chest*

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Lady T writes about feminism, comedy, media, and literature at the blog The Funny Feminist. Her essay “My Mom, the Reader” has also been featured at SMITH Magazine. A graduate of Hofstra University, she writes fiction about vampires, superhero girlfriends, and feisty princesses, and hopes to one day get paid for it. She contributed a review of Easy A to Bitch Flicks. 

Why Facebook’s "Occupy a Vagina" Event Is Not Okay

Last week, a Change.org petition urged Facebook to remove pages that promote sexual violence. Some of the offending pages included, “Kicking Sluts in the Vagina,” and “Riding your Girlfriend softly Cause you dont want to wake her up.” The following passage from the petition explains the overall goal:

First, Facebook needs to clarify that pages that encourage or condone rape–like the ones mentioned above–are in violation of their existing standards. Secondly, they need to make a statement that all pages that describe sexual violence in a threatening way will be immediately taken down upon being reported. Finally, Facebook must include specific language in their Terms of Service that make it clear that pages promoting any form of sexual violence will be banned.

Jessica Bennett wrote about the petition and the #notfunnyfacebook Twitter campaign for The Daily Beast in an article called, “Should Facebook Ban Sexist Pages?” She writes:
In some ways, misogyny on Facebook is just a newer version of the same old problem. Indeed, there are enough stories like Sierra’s for Danielle Citron, a cyber law professor at the University of Maryland, to compile a whole book of them—she’s hard at work on a text about online harassment that will be published by Harvard University Press in 2013. She notes more recent cases that have made headlines: the women smeared by AutoAdmit, the law school discussion board; the case of Harvard sex blogger Lena Chen; and the dramatic story of 11-year-old Jessi Slaughter. “I talk to women every day who’ve been silenced, scared, and just want to disappear,” Citron says. “It’s easy to dismiss these things as frat-boy antics, but this isn’t a joke.”

Then, on November 5th, ZDNet published an article called, “Facebook Finally Removes Pro-Rape Pages,” and the writer goes into detail about Facebook’s “massive problem with sex”:
With zero tolerance for porn and a refusal to define it, Facebook has deleted breast cancer survivor communities (labeling one breast cancer survivor page as “pornography”), retail business pages, individual profiles of human sexuality teachers, pages for authors and actors, photos of LGBT couples kissing (for which Facebook just apologized), and even the occasional hapless user’s profile who has the misfortune of having someone else post porn on their Wall.

With no comprehensible or clear methodology around sexual speech, we see pages deleted that discuss female sexuality, while pages that joke about and encourage raping women and girls rack up the likes.

So, yes, Facebook complied (finally) and removed some of its pro-rape pages, but as Shelby Knox noted on Twitter, “… #notfunnyfacebook isn’t a victory until they clarify the pages violate their terms of service.” We’re still waiting, Facebook …
In the meantime, I’d like to talk about the Occupy a Vagina Facebook event. When it first appeared a little over a week ago, the page was bombarded with offensive and violent rhetoric targeted at women (all in the name of “comedy” and “fun” of course), but when many women and men got angry about the event–and pushed back by leaving comments on the event wall asking the creator to remove the page (because it promoted rape and violence against women)–the creator deleted the comments. Now, the Occupy a Vagina event page says this:

(Edit for all the trolls)

*************

To all of you people who want to assume this event has anything to do with rape, you are completely wrong… This event was created by a WOMAN as a JOKE!!! If you don’t think it is funny, then click not attending and move on… I will be deleted any trolling ass messages about “promoting anything” other than comedy so don’t waste your time……

I mean, where in the fuck do I even begin? (Seriously, I keep starting and re-starting paragraphs because I don’t know where the fuck to begin.) With outrage? Okay, look: I don’t give a shit if a woman created the event, or if a man created it, or if I created it when I was passed out drunk in my bathtub–if it promotes rape, then it promotes rape. The author basically makes the ridiculous assertion that women can’t possibly participate in the perpetuation of rape culture (e.g. “this event can’t even contribute to rape culture because a woman created it to be funny.“) No. See, the thing is–and people still can’t seem to successfully grasp this in Sexual Harassment 101–intent is irrelevant. Do I believe the creator intended to invite a bunch of people to an Occupy event sponsored by rape culture? Or that the “attendees” honestly believe they’re engaging in anything that might directly or indirectly cause women harm? Not really. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the event is out there, and it’s seriously problematic, and it isn’t just “harmless fun”; it’s another permanent fixture in (omg, is she gonna say it again?!) rape culture. Here’s a primer:
According to the rape culture theory, acts of sexism are commonly employed to validate and rationalize normative misogynistic practices. For instance, sexist jokes may be told to foster disrespect for women and an accompanying disregard for their well-being. An example would be a female rape victim being blamed for her being raped because of how she dressed or acted. In rape culture, sexualized violence towards women is regarded as a continuum in a society that regards women’s bodies as sexually available by default.

It’s important to note that even the language–occupy a vagina–divorces women from their own bodies. It’s a form of dismemberment, and I’ll say it again: we live in a rape culture, a culture that reduces women to body parts, whether it’s to sell a product, to promote a film, or for nothing more than reinforcing (and getting off on) patriarchal power. When we use language that prevents us from seeing a person as a whole human being, language that encourages us to view women in particular as a collection of body parts designed for male pleasure (e.g. occupy a vagina), then she exists as nothing more than an object, a fuck-toy, sexually available by default. It might not have been the intent of the event creator to participate in women’s subjugation, but it’s certainly the fucking reality.

It’s also important to talk about the Occupy a Vagina event within the context of the recently reported rapes and sexual assaults at several Occupy camps. The founders of the valuable Web site Occupy Patriarchy wrote a piece that highlights many of the incidents. In response to the assaults, several women’s groups have moved forward in creating safe spaces (like women-only tents) so that women can fully participate in the Occupy movement without fear, although safer sleeping areas don’t necessarily mean women will experience less groping and invasion of personal space in general. Obviously, we need to address the underlying (and pervasive) privilege in the movement that allows violence against women to occur in the first place, but these are all positive first steps to ensuring women can, you know, Occupy.

Now, let’s talk about what it means, in the context of the movement, to “occupy.” The original organizers of Occupy Wall Street proposed the following: We show up at Wall Street on September 17th, with tents, and we fucking move in. Why? Because it’s ours. You can hear it in the chants and slogans at every rally: “Whose Street? Our Street!” Even the Occupy Times Square protest was often described as, “taking the square.” This, my friends, is a campaign that involves moving into public spaces; it involves taking back, or reclaiming, our cities and reminding the very small yet powerful group in charge that it’s really the people who own this shit. And, perhaps most importantly, it involves resisting when we’re told to leave. [Note: the problematic “occupy” language, as it pertains to Native territory, has been written about far more elegantly and intelligently than I can do here, so please read those pieces as well.]

If we read the Occupy a Vagina event in the context of the other Occupy events (and why wouldn’t we), it’s easy to immediately see the problems: vaginas are not public spaces; they don’t belong to a collective group; they can’t be owned or reclaimed; and resisting when a woman tells you to get the fuck off her vagina–well, that’s rape. It isn’t funny. It isn’t harmless. This isn’t a cute little “event” that’s upsetting a small minority of angry feminazis who can’t take a joke. It contributes to rape. To narcissistically quote myself from a previous piece about rape culture: 
…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.

It’s unfortunate that I need to add to this:

Facebook’s refusal to ban all pages that condone sexual assault and violence against women, and their refusal to acknowledge that these pages violate their already existing standards, contributes to the rape of women and girls.

See, at Bitch Flicks, we believe more than anything that the blind and uncritical consumption of media portrayals of women contributes to furthering women’s inequality in all areas of life. And as we all learned from The Social Network, one of the most misogynistic fucking movies I’ve ever seen, Facebook is a form of media that’s defining a generation. (Thanks so much for your contribution, Fuckers.)

Some Scattered Thoughts on Detective Shows and Geniuses

I often joke here about my obsession with streaming Netflix television shows from 1992. Sometimes I find myself wondering what I actually did during the nineties that made me miss so much television, and then I remember I was hanging out with truancy officers, drinking Zima underage, angsting over my first boyfriend, and coming one horrible grade shy of flunking out of high school. Memories. But maybe it’s ultimately a good thing that I let myself get a little media literate before escaping into the mind of pop culture circa 1992. It’s fun to consume an unacceptable amount of television under the guise of “no really, I’m critiquing this shit in my mind, which is important, so it’s totally fine that I haven’t spoken out loud in three days or showered.” See, I work a second-shift job, while everyone I know works a first-shift job, so I often find myself awake in the wee hours with my good friends Adrian Monk, Cal Lightman, and most recently, Allison DuBois. (The reality is that all these shows first aired between 2002 and 2010, so the fact that I think the 90s are the 00s suggests an even larger problem, like, who am I and what year is it.)My routine looks something like this: If I had a crappy day, I like to start my TV marathon with something light, like an episode or two of Monk (which first aired in 2002). For those of you who don’t know, Adrian Monk is a former homicide detective who had a severe nervous breakdown when his wife, Trudy, was killed in a car bomb explosion. He was discharged from the police force because he was so distraught he couldn’t leave his house for three years, and his breakdown brought on a slew of intense phobias associated with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He eventually goes into business on his own as a consultant for his former colleagues on the police force, but not without a woman slash assistant slash nurse slash babysitter who follows him around everywhere handing him antibacterial wipes and driving him to and from crime scenes (among other degrading tasks). The show is usually hilarious, mainly because of Tony Shalhoub’s brilliant portrayal of Monk, but it certainly contributes to pop culture sexism (and in turn, real life sexism).

After an episode of Monk, I spend some time with Cal Lightman from Lie to Me, a current show in its third or fourth season that centers around an agency called, The Lightman Group, which specializes in reading facial expressions. Apparently, we all have these things called “micro-expressions” that betray us when we’re lying, but only highly-trained people can catch and decode these micro-expressions, (e.g. the employees at The Lightman Group). Dr. Lightman is literally a human lie detector, and it’s fun to watch him get up in the faces of liars and act like a cocky British bad-ass. He, too, works with women who, while brilliant and talented in their own right, spend a significant amount of their screen-time playing sidekick to Lightman and cleaning up his messes.

All this boy drama started to become stifling, so I browsed Netlix and found Medium (which first aired in 2005), a show I’d seen a few episodes of—and liked—but that I never really pursued, probably because of my embarrassing fear of the occult. Medium centers around Allison DuBois, a woman who can communicate in various ways with the dead, and who also has some psychic ability, such as knowing when a person might die, or experiencing creepy flashes of the horrible shit people have done in their pasts. DuBois interests me because, in addition to holding a job as a consultant for the district attorney (similar to Monk’s role in some ways) she’s also a mother of three young girls and has a rocket scientist husband who gets fed up on a regular basis with her mind-reading, afterlife communing talents. He admires her crime-solving abilities but deep down wishes she’d continued to pursue her law degree instead, in the name of normalcy. In this show, the man slash husband plays sidekick.

These three detective characters are similar in that their main role on their respective television shows is to catch criminals. All three of them aid the police force. All three of them often endanger themselves in the process of tracking down criminals. All three of them always succeed (which is the formula for crime dramas), and we’re led to believe that the criminals wouldn’t have been caught without the help of these characters. Monk, for instance, even with all his quirks and the accommodations he requires, is hailed as an absolute genius by his colleagues and is constantly referred to as “the greatest detective in the world” by his assistant. And he is, in fact, a scary good detective, and it’s for that reason that his quirks and his often abusive behavior (while played for laughs) is forgiven—the audience is led to believe that Monk wouldn’t be a genius detective without these eccentricities. (An episode where Monk takes an antidepressant for his phobias and subsequently becomes useless as a detective confirms that theory.)

Cal Lightman, too, might be one of the most egotistical characters I’ve seen on television, and he’s immensely likeable. He breaks all the rules and consistently does pretty much the opposite of what anyone tells him to do. His lack of respect for authority often helps him win his cases; his immediate contempt for and suspicion of The People in Charge sends him in unusual directions to solve crimes, so the audience is treated to episodes where he (hilariously) and deliberately does things like checking himself into a mental hospital, or going undercover as a coalminer and threatening to blow up the place if he doesn’t get answers—but we, and his colleagues, respect him more for his unorthodox detective work. Yes, he may step all over the people around him, but that’s just how he does things; who are they to get in the way of a genius in his element? But Cal inevitably leaves some sort of mess behind when he operates outside the box (i.e. pisses off so many authority figures), and it’s no surprise that his colleague, Dr. Gillian Foster, a psychiatrist who partnered with him to start The Lightman Group, gets stuck making amends on his behalf. (I’m very much reminded of the Dr. House/Dr. Cuddy dynamic here from the television show House.)

Interestingly (or not), both Monk and Lightman find motivation and success in their careers because of dead women; Monk is literally obsessed with finding Trudy’s killer (which is the one crime he hasn’t been able to solve), and Lightman wasn’t able to save his mother from killing herself; he watches old video tapes of her, repeatedly pausing them to read and reread her micro-expressions. This “I’m avenging the death of my [insert relationship to woman here]” theme shows up in, like, every movie about a man who achieves anything. In these shows and movies, even the dead women exist as nothing more than plot points to drive the narrative forward. It’s sick and demeaning to women. In fact, I should make a list of the films and television shows in which this trope exists and call it the “I’m Avenging the Death of My [Insert Relationship to Woman Here] Trope.” (I’m doing it.)

Did you think I forgot about Mrs. Allison DuBois? I love her. And oh what a difference gender makes on a detective show. In her world, she’s successful not because she’s eccentric or because she has a god complex but because she has special powers. In her world, even though she solves case after case, and sheds new light on past cases, she must always fight to be taken seriously by her boss, by her family, and often by her husband. The audience watches DuBois struggle both with solving the cases (while trying to raise a family of young daughters and keep her marriage intact) and dealing with the way her job directly impacts her interpersonal interactions. She isn’t, as is the case with Monk and Lightman, surrounded by an endless network of supportive characters no matter what; instead, her kind of “genius” is scary and unnatural and not to be trusted.

I get it. Dead people tell her shit, which is a little different than being aided by obsessive-compulsive disorder and a lucky mixture of intelligence coupled with extreme arrogance and defiance. But DuBois must decode the messages she gets, too. A dead person doesn’t just show up and say, “Hey, that dude killed me, and my body’s buried behind that dude’s house over there. Find me. Thanks.” The occult is obviously way more complex than that (eek!). While Lightman and Monk find themselves surrounded by people who worship them, she deals with the extra struggle of convincing people she isn’t crazy—but like, how many cases does she have to solve before people just admit she’s fucking awesome?

Arguably, DuBois is a much more fleshed-out character than Lightman or Monk. She has a husband, a family, a career, unacceptable sleep patterns, daycare to deal with, a possible alcohol problem, parent-teacher conferences to deal with—a life! The men, though, just kind of do the same shit every episode. Lightman does, however, have a teenage daughter, and season two ends with him flipping out about his daughter losing her virginity. I’m not joking. That’s how the entire season ends—in an episode where Lightman gets upset about his daughter not being a virgin anymore. I’m serious. It’s called “Black and White,” and it’s a horrible episode. (Seriously.)

I’m at a bit of a disadvantage in discussing Medium because I’m only familiar with the first season. Perhaps things get better for Allison in later seasons. Perhaps the men in her life stop expressing so much condescension and distrust toward her and endow her with some Lightman- and/or Monk-esque respect. Perhaps she no longer feels compelled to apologize for her own idiosyncratic crime-solving abilities and develops Lightman’s uber-masculine arrogance about it. (But don’t take that confidence too far, Allison—no one wants to work with a bitch.) At the very least, in the first season of Medium, I sort of love her husband. I mean when is a male rocket scientist ever the sidekick, hmmm?

I guess ultimately what concerns me about these portrayals of male and female detectives is that it mirrors real life. Men are geniuses. It’s a fact. I think I once heard someone refer to Sylvia Plath as a genius in a lit class, but it’s absolutely uncommon to hear a woman referred to as such. Being a (male) genius comes with perks, too. You’re forgiven your bullshit, your weirdness, your unorthodox behavior, your screw-ups, your law breaking. I always think specifically of Roman Polanski—a film director who drugged and raped a 13-year-old girl, never went to prison, and managed to garner support from thousands in Hollywood who signed a petition on his behalf. He’s a genius! He’s paid his dues! Let him come back to the U.S.!!!!! I also recall the outrage surrounding the Julian Assange rape accusations—men across the globe immediately came to his defense (including “liberals” Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann), arguing: It’s a setup! Those women are lying! He’s a genius! Kneel before Zod!

Even though I really want to end this post on the phrase “Kneel before Zod!” I’d also like to say that while I love DuBois and think she is a genius and want to see her treated as such (in the same manner as her male counterparts) I’d also love to see more regular-ass women characters achieving genius-level shit. We need and love our women with superpowers (Buffy, too, of course), but I personally want to see a woman who looks like me, who does weird and unacceptable shit like me, who sometimes goes out in public wearing sweatpants like me, achieving some genius-level shit. I truly believe, as someone who studies pop culture and media, that we’re not going to make much progress toward ending misogyny in our everyday lives if we don’t deal with the misogyny we’re bombarded with in television shows, music videos, advertisements, films, and children’s programming. If we see it reflected all around us constantly, it becomes the norm. So, we need to call this shit out and keep calling it out, even when it seems like a tiny thing—like douchebag male detectives with unorthodox methods getting a free genius pass while brilliant female detectives with unorthodox methods have to endlessly prove their competence to significantly less competent people.

That right there is fucking patriarchy in action. Now:

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

“Tilda Swinton: I Didn’t Speak for Five Years” by Kira Cochrane for The Guardian

“Are TV Ads Getting More Sexist?” by Derek Thompson for The Atlantic

“Painful Baby Boom on Prime-Time TV” by Neil Genzlinger for The New York Times

“The Rebirth of the Feminist Manifesto” by Emily Nussbaum for New York Magazine

“Sexy or Sexism? Redefine Sexy, Identify Sexism” from SexyorSexism.org

“Diverse Black Women Dominating Daytime TV” by Ronda Racha Penrice for The Grio

“Chapstick Sticks It to Women” by Melissa Spiers for ReelGirl

“‘How to Be a Gentleman'” Cancelled” by James Hibberd for Entertainment Weekly

“Is She Really With Him?” by Molly McCaffrey for I Will Not Diet  

“We’ll Always Be Together: Girl-Gang Style in Movies” by Marie for Rookie Magazine 




I Feel Like Hell …

I went to the doctor, and she tried to convince me I’m only developing allergies, but I told her I don’t understand how allergies can make my entire face, head, neck, and body feel like they might simultaneously explode, but you know, what do I know. So I’m slacking off today while I get my “allergy” situation in check. This is what was happening three Novembers ago, when Bitch Flicks had only three readers: my sister, Amber’s husband, and … wait, maybe we only had two readers …
Whatever, it’s a flashback to our very first Review in Conversation. We’ve since gone on to publish RiCs of Black Swan, Horrible Bosses, and Sex and the City: The Movie, and we have one planned for Bridesmaids. (You know you want to read that, so give us a kick in the ass and make us write it. I just can’t seem to stop myself from streaming all the new television shows Netflix keeps adding from, you know, 1992.) 

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Welcome to the first installment of a new feature on Bitch Flicks: Reviews in Conversation. We take a movie that’s worth talking about, and do just that.

“This is some revolutionary shit. We’re tying up white women in Mississippi.” –John Singleton, on filming Black Snake Moan in the South
Why does the revolution necessitate wholesale exploitation of women?
Since Black Snake Moan was one of the initial movies (along with Hustle & Flow…maybe we should officially thank Craig Brewer for the inspiration) that made us want to start this site, it’s fitting that we discuss the movie in our first Review in Conversation segment.

Here’s the IMDb summary:
In Mississippi, the former blues man Lazarus is in crisis, missing his wife that has just left him. He finds the town slut and nymphomaniac Rae dumped on the road nearby his little farm, drugged, beaten and almost dead. Lazarus brings her home, giving medicine and nursing and nourishing her like a father, keeping her chained to control her heat. When her boyfriend Ronnie is discharged from the army due to his anxiety issue, he misunderstands the relationship of Lazarus and Rae, and tries to kill him. (Claudio Carvalho)

Before I address the film’s atrocious sexism, which the above summary characterizes well, I’d like to say what I love about BSM. The music, first and foremost, is outstanding. Brewer calls this a movie about the blues, and I’d like to take that a step further and say the movie is the blues. Or it tries to be, at least. The movie and its story are too small, conflicted, and tone-deaf to achieve greatness. It tries to be the blues and ends up being a blues music video, where Lazarus (Samuel L. Jackson) is the tortured and tired star, and Rae (Christina Ricci) is the video vixen, shaking her ass for the camera.

This is a movie that I want to love. It’s gritty, unique, and aware of class and race—a rare combination. However, there is no female perspective in the movie. Is it really too much to ask for a sharp film to also be sharp about gender? Is it right for a film like BSM to claim gender as a theme, while not really exploring women at all? Rae is the only female character (brief appearances by Lazarus’ wife, Rae’s mother, and a kind pharmacist easily fit into the angel/monster dichotomy), but she isn’t quite a real person. What is wrong with her? She is talked about as a nymphomaniac, and has strange, demonic fits of desire, but she’s really a victim of rape and abuse. Lazarus, whose trauma is that his wife aborted his baby and left for his younger brother, takes it upon himself to “cure” her by chaining her to a radiator. Even if the movie isn’t to be taken literally (but as a metaphor of sorts), why are the other characters so human and she so other, so animal?

Response by Stephanie

I, too, fell in love with the music in this film. It complements the key themes—race and class, as you mentioned, religion, and I’d also take it a step further to include sex. The scenes with Ricci shaking her ass for the camera are wonderfully sexy, and I found myself wavering back and forth during those scenes, wondering, is this just another female character being exploited by the camera? Or, is this a female character finally owning her sexuality?

Early on, she’s portrayed as a woman who’s at the mercy of her untamable sexual desires, and I didn’t ever get the feeling that she enjoyed them. She’s often shown squirming around on the ground, rubbing her hands all over her body, and moaning, like she’s struggling to fend off an attack. It’s at that point that she must find someone, anyone to screw, in order to make that feeling go away.

Later though, after Lazarus “cures” her by wrapping a giant chain around her waist and attaching it to a radiator, Rae is allowed to enter society again, showing up at a bar with Lazarus, drinking, rubbing up against everyone on the dance floor while Lazarus watches her from the stage, almost approvingly. What’s going on here? I truly want to read this as much more complicated than a man giving a woman permission to flaunt her sexuality, and I think it is.

But I also can’t help getting a little unnerved by the frivolity with which her sexuality is treated earlier in the film, when she’s portrayed as nothing more than the town whore. (At one point, the local mechanic says, “It’s already noon, Rae. Do you think those shorts should still be on?”) And when she’s described as “having the sickness” by another character (meaning nymphomania), it’s impossible not to think about the double-standard we still hold for men and women, especially when it comes to sexual desires.

As you mentioned, she is portrayed as “other,” often animalistic in her sexual conquests. Since I don’t think a film like this would work at all if a man were the one with the sexual “disease” (it’s natural for men to have uncontrollable sex drives, after all) then what does one make of using the myth of nymphomania to drive the plot? (See Peter Green’s “All Sexed Up,” a review of Carol Groneman’s 2000 book Nymphomania: A History, for a brief discussion of the myth.)

Response by Amber 

I agree that the scene in the bar was very sexy, and I think I agree with what you said about that being a moment of Rae owning her sexuality. I think we’re supposed to understand that scene as a very important moment in which both characters are owning something that they’d lost—or lost control of. For whatever reason, Lazarus had lost his music (and I suspect it had to do with his wilting marriage), and Rae had lost control of her sexuality. However, that scene was exhilarating, and I think it has to do with reclamation and individual victory.

But back to the way gender and sex intersect. If nymphomania is itself largely fictitious, the strange way Rae’s fits were portrayed—moments in the film that were suspended between fear and comedy—reveals some of the ideological confusion of the film. If not for her nearly-naked body, battered and bruised and constantly displayed, I might have more sympathy for the film’s motivations. Add that to Rae’s moment of catharsis where she beats the shit out of her mother with a mop handle (for allowing Rae to be raped, either by her father or another male figure in her home), and we see women destroyed by sex who we’re supposed to sympathize with.

The final topic I want to bring up is religion. We can’t deny the role Christianity plays in the film. From the name of the main character to the supporting cast (which includes a preacher), the issue of faith (and a very certain brand of faith) comes up again and again. If the movie is a metaphor for “anxiety, fear, and unconditional love,” according to Brewer himself, then religion is the element that holds it all together. The instantiations of religion, however, are clunky at best; the radiator is God, the chain is faith, et cetera. I don’t really know where to go from here, except to acknowledge the large role of religion, although it plays out in hackneyed ways.

Response by Stephanie 

While I would like to see both characters in this film actually achieve some level of reclamation and individual victory, I think it fails for the most part, but the film especially fails Rae. She remains “chained” in a metaphorical sense, even in the final scenes. I don’t believe her character discovers much, or achieves much of an arc; she remains, for me, completely static. In fact, the film pretty much uses her as a vehicle to showcase the success of Lazarus, (which is yet another example of female exploitation that Brewer has either no awareness of or no desire to address).
I was left feeling no hope for Rae in that final scene—she’s imprisoned, (in a stuffy car, surrounded by semi-trucks) stuck in a relationship with a man who’s essentially a child needing to be coddled, with only the memory of her radiator-chain to keep her from jumping from the vehicle and fucking her way across the interstate. But Lazarus has his music again. He’s managed to overcome his anger about his wife leaving him, and he’s even got a nice new chick to look after him. See how chaining up a white woman in Mississippi can revolutionize an entire worldview?
The truth is I never gave a shit about Rae. I could’ve cared for her, if Brewer hadn’t used her sexuality against her—it’s filmed as if the abuse she suffers is deserved. (See what you get when you go around whoring yourself? Tsk, tsk.) By the time we get to know her character, when, as you mentioned, she divulges her history of sexual abuse, then beats the shit out of her mother with a mop handle, it’s way too late for sympathy. By that point, Brewer has already managed to turn a young woman’s sexuality into a cross between sketch comedy and porn, where nothing about it feels real.

In that moment of catharsis with her mother, I found myself detached. Instead of sympathizing with Rae and coming to some kind of realization myself, I just rolled my eyes at the ridiculous, clichéd consequences of her abuse—girl gets raped by father-figure while mother does nothing to stop it, girl develops low self-esteem, girl becomes town slut, girl develops a fictional sex disease, girl gets chained to radiator by religious black man. Wait, what? Ah religion, how you never cease to reinforce the second-class citizenship of women, perpetually punishing them for their godless desire to fuck.
So Rae is possessed by an evil sex demon, and, at one freaky moment, Lazarus’s ex-wife. Lazarus and his brother are Cain and Abel. There’s adultery, lust, preachers, fire-and-brimstone, bible passages, and judgmental townsfolk. Basically, the religious themes receive the same clichéd treatment as women’s sexuality. Rae is pretty much “saved” by Lazarus, and Lazarus pretty much gets his shit together and “rises from the dead” (as Lazarus in the bible).
And, after this conversation, I’m starting to wonder if I’m the problem, if I made the mistake of taking this film seriously, when what it really wants to be is one big sensationalist metaphor. A metaphor for what, though? I’ll conclude with something Brewer says in an interview.
I’m not writing from a place of progress. I’m not writing a movie that I want people to necessarily intellectualize. And I think that really messes with people who feel that they need to make a statement against this, and they don’t quite know what it is they’re against. Because man alive, you look at this imagery on this poster, and I’m so obviously banging this drum. It’s like, you really believe that I believe this? That women need to be chained up? Can we not think metaphorically once race and gender are introduced?

Read the Salon.com interview with Craig Brewer 

Guest Writer Wednesday: Where Do We Go Now?

Arabic movie poster for Where Do We Go Now?

This is a guest post by Kyna Morgan.
Nadine Labaki is a pretty big deal. Following up her directorial debut, the 2007 film Caramel (which she also wrote and starred in), she brought her sophomore directorial effort, Where Do We Go Now? back to the Toronto International Film Festival as co-writer, producer, director and star. I was lucky enough to snag tickets to a 9:45AM showing. While normally I wouldn’t be caught watching films at that ungodly hour of the morning, I couldn’t resist seeing this film. It turns out I hit the mother lode as a movie-lover. In fact, it was evident from the laughs and the sniffles from my fellow movie goers that Labaki’s film affected everyone. It’s a comedy, a drama, a musical, a social commentary! It’s quite simple yet extraordinarily complex at the same time. At the end of the festival it received the Cadillac People’s Choice Award, one of the few awards actually given out at Toronto (a non-competitive festival), and has since gone on to snag a U.S. distribution deal with Sony Pictures Classics and break box office records in Lebanon. Earlier in the year, it was an official selection at the Cannes Film Festival in the “Un Certain Regard” category. I didn’t know what to expect from the film, since I’m often misdirected by film synopses and I hadn’t even heard of it prior to September, but not knowing is one of the most exciting parts for me. Here’s what I found.

The story is set in a small town in Lebanon whose population is divided between Muslims and Christians. They have a mosque. They have a church. They eat together, live beside each other, celebrate together, mourn together, and they have spent many generations in peaceful existence with each other. Religious differences seem to be the least of their concerns when it comes to functioning as a community. The film begins with a group of women dressed in black walking together in a close group, moving in unison with the beat of the music over the opening credits, surrounded by the dry, mountainous land where they live. It appears as if they might almost break out in dance, but in a close shot, we see that they are sad, even grief-stricken, clutching rosaries, bouquets and photos. As the music dies down, they break into two groups. They are in a cemetery and each moves to one side of it, then scatters amongst the graves which they are there to tend. We see that one side of the cemetery is Christian, the other Muslim.

While Where Do We Go Now? has an incredibly strong ensemble cast – actresses as the leads with actors as supporting characters – director Nadine Labaki could be considered the main star. She plays “Amale,” the owner of a small café which serves as the heart of the town where people gather, both Muslim and Christian alike. Her secret love, the painter “Rabih” (played by Julian Farhat) who is there to renovate her café, also secretly loves her. Toward the beginning of the film, this is played out in a scene in which they dance closely and confess their love through song, all of which is Amale’s daydream as she washes dishes while Rabih looks good standing on his ladder stealing glimpses of her in the kitchen. I’ve heard the film called a musical, but this isn’t really the case. The characters don’t really break into song to replace dialogue, but rather it’s used to enhance the dialogue, and there are only about three short “musical” sequences in the film.

Everything seems to be going well for the townspeople. They have a television set up by a group of young men and the mayor, and once they’re able to get reception (they’re very far away from the nearest big town), the whole town gathers to watch a program. The mayor makes a speech, obviously very proud that this group of young men was able to make this special event happen. He comments on the happiness he feels at having so many years pass living harmoniously with his Muslim friends and neighbors (he is Christian), but then the television program turns to news and the violence that’s occurring elsewhere in Lebanon between rival groups of people. Desperate to preserve their peaceful way of life and ignorance about the outside world full of conflict, the women of the town begin to shout and complain at their husbands and their male neighbors, about whatever they can think of, in an attempt to drown out the noise of the awful news. This is where the story really begins. This film is about a group of women who go to hilarious lengths to prevent the problems of the outside world from entering their own town.

The comedy and the humorous grotesques which Labaki creates are tempered with drama. The turning point in the film comes when several Muslim men find that the door to the mosque has been left ajar and animals have come in, soiling the prayer rugs. No one takes the blame. In fact, it seems as if no one is to blame. It’s an accident, but a few of the men are determined to find who did it and start blaming their Christian neighbors and friends. Later, it is found that someone has retaliated by vandalizing the church, breaking a statue of the Virgin Mary. Something must be done, and the men seem too concerned about who did what that the women must take over. A series of schemes is put into action to distract the men from the problems in the town: a fake miracle experienced by Madame Yvonne (the mayor’s wife) when she hears the Virgin Mary call out various men of the town for their transgressions (including her own neighbor for things she doesn’t like him doing, as well as her husband), hiring a troupe of exotic Russian dancers to pretend to have a bus breakdown so they have to stay in the town for several days (including being relocated to the homes of many of the men and young boys, who couldn’t be happier), and drugging the men of the town by cooking hashish into breads, cookies and cakes which they are served in Amale’s café as they watch a belly dancing show put on by the Russian dancers. It is this final plan that allows the women to use intelligence gathered by one of the Russian dancers to find where the guns are buried which some of the men have been talking about using. Now, in the height of the enjoyment of the hashish-laced baked goods, drink and dancing women, the men’s desire to kill each other is the furthest thing from their minds. The women sneak out of the café to find the spot where the guns are buried, measuring by counting steps from a landmark, fussing over whose feet are bigger and can calculate properly. Eventually they find the stash and carry it to another place in the town to bury, swearing to each other that they will never speak of this to the men.
Labaki brilliantly captures how women speak to each other and treat each other and, what’s more, what they’re willing to do for one another. These are not women who compete with each other for men – most of them are married, anyway – nor compete for attention or status. They are not only neighbors, they are friends, and despite the difference in their religion, they seem to identify first and foremost as members – and even better yet, the leaders – of the community. They don’t let each other get away with anything, and make it clear what they want. They are self-actualized women who know who they are. They are the heart of the community. And they’re funny as hell. They’re a smart, scheming group of women who want to live in peace and are willing to do almost anything to secure it. Labaki shows women apart from men, outside of the definition of these women as wives or mothers, even potential brides (like Amale might be considered by Rabih). There is a strength in this as a storytelling device as well because it allows the women to be women without the constant presence of men to remind us as viewers that these women somehow belong to someone. Yes, they are trying to solve the problems being played out by the men, but it is simply because they know how to solve them and they know they have the power to do so. They are just more than half of humanity, and they act like it!

What drives the drugging of the male population of the town, though, is what happens a bit earlier. All of the hilarity of the schemes and misdirection that the women attempt is tempered with a dramatic scene so beautifully written, acted and shot, it becomes the film’s reality check. While the town is sleeping in the wee hours one morning, Takla’s (one of the main women, played by Claude Baz Moussawbaa) nephew returns on his motorbike with Takla’s son, Nassim. They had gone the day before to a nearby city and spent the night so they could sell the load of goods they had carried on the bike. But Takla finds her son is dead, having been shot by a stray bullet as he and his cousin tried to escape an area where there was a violent conflict. Labaki does not shy away or use some type of cinematographic cop out to avoid the pain this woman feels at realizing her son is dead. She puts the camera on her and lets the woman tell her own story, pulling her son off of the motorbike, cradling him in her arms, rocking him back and forth, wailing. It’s a stunning performance and a sobering moment in the film where the reality that exists outside of the town is dumped right onto Takla’s doorstep. She hides her son’s body in the well. She is determined to not let his death destroy the town and destroy the future she undoubtedly was determined for him to have: peace. Only days later do her closest friends demand to know what has happened (she is sad, reclusive, and they know something is wrong), so she tells them. They all swear not to say a word, and they begin to hatch a plan.

When both the priest and the imam of the town announce on the town’s speaker that all men are required to show up for a meeting at Amale’s café, it is then that the women put their hashish plan into action. Persevering to recover the way of life that existed before the men’s Muslim-Christian hatred came to a boil, one morning their husbands and children find them to have switched religions. The Christian women are now Muslim, the Muslim women now Christian. The mayor wakes to find that there are wall hangings in Arabic and his wife wearing a hijab and praying on her prayer rug, uttering “Allahu Akbar” (Allah is great) over and over until he demands to know what’s going on. Takla, whose older son Issam tried to find a gun in Takla’s house so he could find who killed his brother, Nassim, wakes to his convert mother as well (while he is tied up in bed after Takla grazed him with a shotgun to prevent him from trying to kill anyone, then restrained him from trying it again). All of the women of the town convert this morning as they plan for the funeral of Nassim. In the cemetery, with the Muslim and Christian sides separated by a narrow path, the women all dressed in black follow the pallbearers who walk to the end of the path and turn around to face them, still holding Nassim’s coffin. “What?” asks one of the women. One of the pallbearers, knowing each woman is now of the other religion, responds “Where do we go now?”

This is a gorgeous film with a grace and respect for humanity; Nadine Labaki is a tremendous talent. This film is Lebanon’s entry for the 2012 Academy Awards and it deserves to be. Not only does it paint a picture of the world in which we could live, but one in which she should. The leadership role of women is essential not just in this film but in any possible scenario for peace, conflict resolution and sustainable pluralism. It’s just in Where Do We Go Now? the work to solve the world’s problems seems a lot more fun!

—

Kyna Morgan is the founder and author of Her Film, a blog and global project to build audiences for films by, for and about women, and is a published researcher on the topic of African American women filmmakers of the silent and early sound eras of cinema. She has a background in film studies, entertainment administration and publicity, and spends her free time seeking out the world’s best vegan food while sharing her love of Canada.


Call for Writers: Animated Children’s Films

Red from Hoodwinked Too
Yesterday, I wrote a blog post about watching my niece Chloe play with her Baby Alive doll. That led to a quote from an essay about children and gender-typing and how toys teach antiquated gender roles to both girls and boys. But you know what else teaches antiquated gender roles? Children’s movies. The Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media “is the only research-based organization working within the media and entertainment industry to engage, educate, and influence the need for gender balance, reducing stereotyping and creating a wide variety of female characters for entertainment targeting children 11 and under.” The Institute’s extensive research shows that many animated films portray girls and women in negative ways (over-sexualizing young girls, for instance), while others don’t even bother including women and girl characters, especially as leads (see every Pixar movie ever made). However, some animated films must exist that impact girls and boys in positive ways, right? Well, we welcome your reviews–whether they praise or scathe the films! (We’d like to discourage reviews of films that we’ve already reviewed at Bitch Flicks, but please browse them to get an idea of what we’re looking for: Fantastic Mr. Fox, Howl’s Moving Castle, Tangled, Toy Story 3, Up, WALL-E.)

Email us at btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com if you’d like to contribute a review. We accept original pieces or cross-posts. The DEADLINE for us to receive your finished review is Wednesday, November 23rd.
Some of our film suggestions include (but are definitely not limited to) the following:
Toy Story (1 and 2)
Finding Nemo
The Lion King
The Incredibles
Monsters, Inc.
Beauty and the Beast
A Bug’s Life
Ratatouille
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Aladdin
How to Train Your Dragon
Kung Fu Panda
The Little Mermaid
Ice Age
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Fantasia
Coraline
Pinocchio
Cars
Despicable Me
The Jungle Book
Bambi
Shrek
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Dumbo
Cinderella
Alice in Wonderland
Peter Pan
A Bug’s Life
The Land Before Time
The Iron Giant
101 Dalmations
The Secret of NIMH
Mulan
Mulan II
Corpse Bride
Sleeping Beauty
The Sword in the Stone
An American Tail
Wallace & Gromit
Madagascar
The Fox and the Hound
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
Kiki’s Delivery Service
Ponyo
Charlotte’s Web
Prince of Egypt
Ice Age
Megamind
Meet the Robinsons
Rango
Bolt
The Princess and the Frog
Monster House
Mars Needs Moms
Alpha and Omega
Lilo & Stitch 
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hercules
Chicken Run
Monsters vs. Aliens
Anastasia
The Polar Express
Antz
Rio
The Aristocats
Flushed Away
James and the Giant Peach
Bee Movie
Pocahontas
Robots
Happy Feet
Open Season
Gnomeo and Juliet
Hoodwinked 
Ferngully
Astro Boy
The Tale of Despereaux
Dinosaur
Thumbelina
The Swan Princess
The Ant Bully
Alvin and the Chipmunks
The Wild
Tokyo Godfathers
Rock-a-Doodle
Spirited Away

YOU GET THE IDEA. :-)