Category: Uncategorized

Guest Writer Wednesday: Review – Pariah

Pariah (2011)

This is a guest post from Carrie Nelson.
I enjoyed many films in 2011. All of my favorite films of the year, however, were the ones that unnerved me with their honesty, sticking in my thoughts long after the end credits rolled. One of those films was Martha Marcy May Marlene, which I’ve already written about, and another was Pariah.
Pariah, in its simplest terms, is a lesbian coming-of-age story. Yet it is unlike any other lesbian coming-of-age story I have ever seen, largely because the film is not about a young woman’s initial discovery or self-acceptance of sexual identity. When we meet Alike (played masterfully by Adepero Oduye), she already is well aware of and comfortable with her sexual orientation. The film does not start from a place of Gay 101; there are no scenes where Alike expresses sexual confusion or the desire to be straight. It operates under the assumption that our heroine is out (at least to her friends and high school English teacher) and proud. 
Alike and Laura
Instead of a traditional coming out story, Alike’s journey is about finding her place within her community. At home, her mother (Kim Wayans) encourages her to dress femininely and act ladylike. (One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film involves Alike’s discomfort wearing a pink blouse that her mother was so excited for her to try on.) Outside of home, her friend Laura (Pernell Walker) teaches her how to convincingly present as butch and suavely seduce femmes. Alike is able to navigate both worlds, but she does not feel fully comfortable in either of them. The film follows her as she shatters the assumptions others make about her and determines what she needs to do to be truly happy.
What impressed me the most about Pariah was its ability to depict the uncomfortable awkwardness of being a teenager. Though the film is very specific in its geographic and cultural location, Alike’s need to find her place in her social circle is universal. When she accompanies Laura to clubs, she is unable to comfortably flirt with other women. She tries hard to adopt a butch identity, but it never feels right. Early on in the film, Alike experiments with packing, but she quickly determines that a phallus is not what she needs. It is not until she meets Bina (Aasha Davis, who I’ve loved since she played Waverly on Friday Night Lights), the daughter of her mother’s friend, that Alike finds herself in a situation where she can present her sexuality and gender identity in the most authentic way, without pretense or expectation. And although Alike’s relationship with Bina turns in a surprising direction, the experience is necessary for her to begin to see the variety of ways in which she can be a queer woman.
I appreciated the diversity of queer women depicted in Pariah. From women who self-identify as lesbians to women who simply enjoy being intimate with other women, from women who have masculine or feminine gender presentations to women who cannot be so easily labeled, Pariah shows that there is no single way to be queer. Mainstream depictions of gay identity tend to reinforce stereotypes, but while Pariah does feature women in traditional butch-femme pairings, such relationships are not the only ones presented, nor are they shown to be the “right” way to be gay. All of the characters and relationships in Pariah have flaws, but all are also beautiful in their own ways. I was continually struck by the film’s honesty as I watched it, and the diversity of women and relationships presented is an excellent example of that honesty.
Audrey and Alike
Audrey, Alike’s mother, is one of the most fascinating characters in the film. Rather than a one-note antagonist, as parents of gay teens are often depicted on-screen, Audrey struck me as a woman who truly wants to connect with her daughter but does not understand how. She seems to know all along that Alike is gay, but she believes that if she buys her enough feminine clothing, dictates her friendships and talks to her about boys, Alike will be straight. This behavior only distances Alike from her mother, and understandably so – it is not the behavior of a tolerant or accepting parent. But there is never a doubt that Audrey truly loves her daughter and wants what is best for her, a fact that makes the climax of the film so difficult to watch. I only wish the film had been able to flesh Audrey out more and spend more time with her character. One of my favorite scenes is one of Audrey sitting in the break room at her office, mutually ignoring the rest of her colleagues who are eating together and chatting. Audrey only breaks out of her shell when a friend approaches her and asks her about the new clothing she bought for her daughters. The implication seems to be that Audrey is materialistic and a bit of a snob, but we do not find out more about that. I wish we had – it might have provided more insight into why she adopts such a conventional view of female gender identity and sexuality.
One cannot discuss Pariah without acknowledging the fact that it is a film about queer women of color made by a queer woman of color. It’s rare that women of color are given the opportunity to tell their own stories, and in a year during which The Help is receiving enormous critical praise and attention, it is disheartening that a film like Pariah is receiving so much less notice. Pariah is a vitally important film, and its story and performances are as strong as you will find in any other film from 2011. At the time of writing this review, Academy Award nominations have yet to be announced, and I am hoping that, when they are, Pariah and its creator, Dee Rees, will receive their well-deserved recognition. Whether or not they do, I encourage you to seek the film out in theatres. It may not be the flashiest or most technically elaborate film of the past year, but it is without question one of the most honest. 
Carrie Nelson has previously written about Martha Marcy May Marlene, Precious, Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, The Social Network, Sleepaway Camp, and Mad Men for Bitch Flicks. She is a Founder and Editor of Gender Across Borders and works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit organization in NYC.

‘Haywire’ Review: Gender and an Ass-Kicking Woman

Gina Carano as Mallory Kane in ‘Haywire’

Who is Gina Carano? That question might haunt you after watching Haywire or seeing its trailer. We need more women in films, especially in the action genre. But is having a film revolve around a tough, smart female protagonist who kicks ass enough to change gender roles on-screen?

With an impressive supporting cast (Michael Fassbender, Ewan McGregor, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas), Haywire centers around Gina Carano as Mallory Kane, an ex-Marine black ops expert assigned a dangerous mission to rescue a journalist. When she’s double-crossed, she goes on the run, playing a deadly game of cat-and-mouse to uncover the truth. Told in a non-linear narrative, the interesting plot ensnares you in the action and web of deceit.

Carano gives a solid performance in a good (not great) movie, especially considering she has practically no acting experience. Like stuntwoman-turned-actor Zoe Bell, she didn’t get her start in acting. Instead, Carano forged her career in MMA (mixed martial arts). Nicknamed “Conviction,” Carano is known as the “Face of Women’s MMA,” a title she herself refutes. In only her second film, Carano headlines Haywire, catapulting her into the Hollywood limelight.

Director Steven Soderbergh said he was frustrated as a filmgoer. He was tired of watching action films lacking visual aesthetics. So he set out to create an action film “beautiful to look at.” As he flipped through the TV channels one night, Soderbergh stumbled upon Gina Carano beating the shit out of another woman in a match. She struck a chord in him and he wanted to build a project around her, an authentic action film. Rather than having a female actor undergo grueling training or hire a stunt double, he submerged Carano, a highly accomplished champion Muay Thai fighter, into method acting, including having a former Mossad (Israeli intelligence) agent ambush her outside a hair salon. Okay, that’s just ridiculous! Soderbergh asked Ryan Kavanaugh, head of Relativity Media:

“’Why is Angelina Jolie the only female action star in the world?…Because someone made her that way, and I’m going to make Gina into one of the biggest action stars in the world.”

Yes, my sentiments exactly! Why is there only one female action star in the world?? It’s about time a male director wonders the same damn question I ask myself on an almost daily basis. While many women appear in action films, they often fall prey to gender trappings and stereotypes. But women in films don’t have to be pigeon-holed as demure or dainty. Mallory, who “doesn’t like to leave loose ends” on an assignment, unwinds by drinking a glass of wine and cleaning her guns. In fact the film even went so far as deepening Carano’s voice. And women don’t have to be relegated to the sidelines as the rescued victim or the hero’s girlfriend. We need to see more empowered, competent women take charge in films.With a Spartan script, Soderbergh puts the best thing front and center: Carano’s action sequences. Some great scenes unfold when Carano is opposite Michael Fassbender, a truly amazing chameleon, effortlessly sinking into any role. They share a very Mr. and Mrs. Smith-esque moment as two spies dressing up for a black tie affair. But of course the best scenes are when Carano fights. Or runs. There’s an incredible shot of her running as fast as she can through the streets of Barcelona. Her moves astonish. No wires, no stunt doubles. It’s all Carano herself. And that’s pretty fucking awesome.

Mallory Kane (Gina Carano); ‘Haywire’ still frame
Haywire reminded me of Salt or a grittier Alias. But the difference is Salt was originally written for a man. When Angelina Jolie wanted the role, they altered the character. The protagonist Salt was originally supposed to have a child. But Jolie said that no mother would ever become a CIA operative (hmmm not sure about that) so the child was erased from the script. When she’s trying to escape a building, she’s wearing a skirt and slips off her underwear to cover up the surveillance camera. After she’s injured, she goes into a bathroom and rips out the tampon/sanitary pad machine. Then she straps a few pads to her bloody wound. Gendered moves like these don’t exist in Haywire.But maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, maybe it’s awesome that there’s no gender commentary but that the film simply revolves around a woman. In fact, the only time gender is mentioned happens when SPOILER -> Michael Fassbender tells Ewan McGregor, “I’ve never done a woman before,” meaning he’s never killed a woman. McGregor assures him not to think of her as a woman. I’m reminded of The Professional and how Jean Reno’s character refused to assassinate women or children. Society views women differently simply because of their gender.

The film contains some brutally graphic fighting sequences. I found the opening scene especially jarring. While I love action films, I abhor the glorification of violence against women. But it never felt like that. Instead I found it refreshing for the action scenes to not be softened because of Carano’s gender.
But regardless of her gender, Mallory Kane is clearly the best of the best in the film’s universe. Michael Douglas’s character pays an exorbitant amount of money to take her out of another assignment in order to hire her for his own project. She combats men (and wins), chokes people with her thighs, leaps across buildings, shoots guns, rides motorcycles, runs up a wall, drives a car backwards in the snow and disarms guns from law enforcement. There’s seriously nothing Mallory (and probably Carano) can’t do.

Another interesting component happens when Mallory seduces a man. I usually don’t like when a woman has sex in an action film as it usually reduces her identity to her sexuality and her relationship with a man defines her. But here it’s unusual because you don’t often see women as the initiator, not for any other motives other than she wants to have sex. I kinda like that.

Sadly, besides Carano, Haywire is adrift in a sea of men, men, men as far as the eye can see. Her employers, colleagues, villainous foes, the guy she accidentally carjacks….all men. Salt suffered that problem too. But Hanna, another female ops action film, not only had several women in it but included female friendship and cooperation. Sadly, that’s lacking here. They could have included both her parents in the film so we at least see her interact with another woman. But nope. It’s only her dad…yet another dude.

Putting a tough, smart and capable woman front and center, Haywire is a step in the right direction. And I always love seeing fierce ladies kick ass. But we don’t live in a world that revolves around men. Oh wait, yeah we do. It’s time we changed that…on-screen and in reality.

Red Tails: Historic, Entertaining, Altogether Lacking Women…and Why that Is Okay

Red Tails (2012)

I don’t see movies in the theatre very often. I know, for someone who co-founded and writes for a film site to say that is tantamount to treason. But, it’s true: there has to be a good reason for me to plunk down ten bucks (I’m a starving writer, friends!) to sit in a movie theatre and put up with texting & talking teens and coughing & sneezing strangers, when I’d usually rather be in the comfort of my own living room.
Here are some examples of what brings me to the theatre:

  • A movie is nominated for some serious awardage.
  • A movie tells a story about women (other than ladies getting hitched), or is told by women.
  • A movie’s cinematography demands the big-screen, public experience.
  • My movie dollars are political speech.

It’s for the last two reasons that I saw Red Tails last weekend in the theatre. First, a whiz-bang action movie involving fighter pilots in WWII is definitely more fun in the theatre than on my couch. It’s the kind of movie in which you want the crowd’s gasps and applause at moments of high tension and release. You want the visceral experience of flight and fear, loss and victory. Second, since Red Tails is the first big-budget Hollywood action movie featuring an all-Black cast—and is both written and directed by Black men—I wanted to help send movie executives a message. See, as I pointed out last week in a preview post, producer George Lucas couldn’t get any company to distribute it—they feared the film would have no foreign market (which is where Hollywood currently makes a huge portion of its revenues). It took Lucas decades to bring the film from idea to reality.
So, the story behind the film means a lot to me. In case I’m not perfectly clear, it’s a damn shame that in 2012 Hollywood is too fearful, too conservative, too—frankly—racist to embrace a film about bona fide World War II heroes who happen to be Black. And don’t give me that argument that movies about the Tuskegee Airmen have already been made.
But on to the actual movie, and to a pleasant surprise. 
Although “action” isn’t my favorite genre, I can say without reservation that I really enjoyed Red Tails. Even though there are no women in the movie, aside from an Italian love interest and a brief appearance by her mother (the two speak to each other in untranslated Italian, but it’s safe to assume they talk about a man, so the movie fails the Bechdel Test)—more on that later. The movie is exciting, entertaining, funny at moments, deeply sad at others, and altogether engaging. Plus, as it’s based on the real experience of the Tuskegee Airmen, you might learn something while being entertained (although U.S. moviegoers are often portrayed as only wanting the latter, I suspect most of us actually want both). 
Cuba Gooding, Jr. as Major Emanuelle Stance, sans pipe
The style of the movie is an homage to ‘40s and ‘50s hokey action flicks, so you get some corny lines (and some hilarious white-dude dialogue–imagine in a robotic voice: “I sure hope we meet up with those Red Tails again.”), stock characters, clear lines between good and evil, and affected performances—especially from Cuba Gooding, Jr. and His Pipe. Even if you’re not familiar with the movies being imitated, nothing stands out as particularly peculiar and, compared with the majority of Hollywood action flicks, the movie—even though it’s about war and defeating the German military—is rather innocent. Innocent in the way that you kind of hope young men the world over will watch it, and pass on some others.
Now, let me say more about why I’m okay with this movie—and with writing about it on a site that focuses on women in media and almost daily reports on how woefully underrepresented women are—leaving out women. It’s true that some movies are about men—particularly films about men in historic wars who are in combat positions. That’s not to say that war doesn’t strongly impact women, but for the majority of the 20th century, combat was done by men. Do we already have a plethora of films about men in combat? Yes, of course. But there are still untold stories, and although anyone familiar with the history of Black men in the U.S. should know about the Tuskegee Airmen, the sad fact remains that it’s not an often-told story in the nation’s history. Further, including women in this movie (again, there is a female love interest who appears in a rather common and predictable storyline) would detract—and distract—from the central story. If a sequel is, in fact, made—and it takes place when the men return home and are treated as second-class citizens in the country they fought for—it should include women. 
Further, if you compare this action movie with basically any other action movie in recent memory, one important element is missing: rampant misogyny. Perhaps the film would’ve been betraying its style if it included the kind of talk and images about women that are so common today, but in this regard it was completely refreshing. My feminist ire wasn’t raised a single time (though the romantic subplot might’ve drawn an eye roll). Perhaps that reveals more about me than the actual film, but the basic respect for women, even when they were almost completely absent, was a relief.
As happy as I am that Red Tails was made and did well its opening weekend (landing at the number 2 box office spot), it does bother me a bit that the historic element of the making of the film—with its Black writers, director, and stars—was all in the name of war propaganda. That’s not to belittle or reduce the accomplishments of the real-life Tuskegee Airmen. But the politics of it all reminds me a bit of The Hurt Locker. More specifically, director Katherine Bigelow was the first woman to win a Best Director Academy Award (and only the fourth woman ever nominated), but she had to make a very masculine and male-centered war film to achieve that level of respect and acclaim. Would a movie about another subject receive the same amount of attention and box-office success as Red Tails?
cast of Red Tails
Red Tails is far from the first film to feature a Black cast, but as someone on Twitter asked us, is it the first all-Black film that white people care about? In other words, we as a culture are very good at making period pieces and then looking at them, with self-righteousness, shaking our heads at how foolish and awful people were back then, and simultaneously congratulating ourselves for being so much better. But, more often than not, “back then” looks more like “present day” than most of us want to admit. (One recent outrageous example: in Newt Gingrich’s South Carolina primary victory speech last weekend, one crowd member reportedly shouts “String him up!” in reference to our current U.S. President.) 
We should absolutely honor the heroes of our past, like the Tuskegee Airmen, but let’s not forget heroes like them exist today and have to face different but still very real demons when they come home. I, for one, would like to see more of those movies.
Rotten Tomatoes ranks Red Tails as Rotten, with a 33% rating (although the audience rating is a positive 73%). What did you think of the movie?

2012 Oscar Nominations

 

I just watched the live announcement of the Oscar nominations. My only thoughts right now are 1) Where the hell is Tilda Swinton’s nomination for We Need to Talk About Kevin? 2) Did Woody Allen’s piece of shit film Midnight in Paris seriously get a best picture nomination? 3) Yay Melissa McCarthy! 4) The Help? Really? 5) Did Hollywood miraculously get more racist this year?

Best Picture

  • The Artist
  • The Descendants
  • Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
  • The Help
  • Hugo
  • Midnight in Paris
  • Moneyball
  • The Tree of Life
  • War Horse

Best Actress

Best Supporting Actress

Best Actor

  • Demian Bichir, A Better Life
  • George Clooney, The Descendants
  • Jean Dujardin, The Artist
  • Gary Oldman, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
  • Brad Pitt, Moneyball

Best Supporting Actor

  • Kenneth Branagh, My Week With Marilyn
  • Jonah Hill, Moneyball
  • Nick Nolte, Warrior
  • Christopher Plummer, Beginners
  • Max von Sydow, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Best Director

  • Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist
  • Alexander Payne, The Descendants
  • Martin Scorsese, Hugo
  • Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris
  • Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life


You can view the rest of the nominations as a PDF or on the Web site for the Academy Awards.

Saying Goodbye to ‘Prime Suspect’ and One of My Fave Badass Female Characters

Maria Bello as Detective Jane Timoney on NBC’s “Prime Suspect”
Some argue women fare better on television than in films. The roles are more complex, with more feminist issues explored. One of the most interesting female protagonists I’ve watched in a long time? Detective Jane Timoney on Prime Suspect. A show I love that sadly comes to an end this Sunday night (1/22.)
Prime Suspect centers around NYC Homicide Detective Jane Timoney, played spectacularly by Maria Bello. I’ve been a long-time fan of Bello’s work from ER and A History of Violence to Payback and The Private Lives of Pippa Lee. Bello gives a tour-de-force performance as Detective Timoney, a role she personally identifies with since she envisions herself as Jane, only “nicer.”
It’s a gritty, raw and surprisingly funny show. Detective Exuding strength and keen intelligence, Jane Timoney is tough and self-reliant. She’s fearless and complicated with a big mouth and a bitingly sarcastic sense of humor. She drinks a lot and shoots perfectly at the firing range. She possesses a sharp mind that thinks of scenarios others might overlook when solving a homicide. Timoney doesn’t give a fuck what other people think about her and she’s not afraid to be herself. And that might be the most refreshing aspect of all.
Having a show revolve around a female detective isn’t a groundbreaking concept. Following in the footsteps of the original British series with Helen Mirren playing the lead, it echoes The Killing, The Closer, Saving Grace, Cold Case, Rizzoli & Isles, and Cagney & Lacey. But a show created and written by women, with a strong female lead who’s willing to say fuck you to anyone and everyone? You don’t see that every day.
Female protagonists aren’t often allowed to be unlikeable or do despicable things. Even rarer are the characters who don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of them. The female roles on TV I can think of include Roseanne Conner (Roseanne), Captain Kara Thrace (Battlestar Galactica), Maude Findlay (Maude), Elaine Benes (Seinfeld), Christine (New Adventures of Old Christine), Xena (Xena Warrior Princess) Jackie Peyton RN (Nurse Jackie), Dorothy Zbornak (Golden Girls) and Patty Hewes (Damages). Although, I happen to like almost all of these female characters.
Detective Jane Timoney (Maria Bello) “Prime Suspect”

In the premiere, the sexism Timoney faces jars and appalls. As a woman, she’s entered a perceived male domain. Her male colleagues insinuate and (some outright say) that she doesn’t deserve to be in homicide as she only got transferred to the department after sleeping with a chief. She faces the wrath of her co-worker, Detective Duffy, who accuses her of leading a homicide case only because another detective died of a heart attack.  To their chauvinistic paradigm, she’s transcended boundaries and they’re going to make sure she knows it. When Timoney finds another angle to the case and gets information out of a witness that the previous detectives hadn’t. Calling her a bitch (by implying she’s a witch), Detective Carter snarkily asks her:

Carter: You ever worry that someone’s gonna drop a house on you?
Timoney: Car’s not going to drive itself, is it?
Carter: I guess you don’t.
The original British series premiered in 1991, evolving out of sexism in Scotland Yard. When writer Lynda La Plante discovered only 4 women were Detective Chief Inspectors (DCIs), she created the show. The first season (or “series” in the UK) contends with sexism in the workplace and the hostility that Detective Jane Tennison (Helen Mirren) faced due to her gender.
While the premiere focused heavily on workplace sexism, the rest of the series shied away. Matt Zoller Seitz at Salon reports that Alexandra Cunningham and Peter Berg made a conscious decision to “tone down” the sexism in subsequent episodes. Before the show premiered, Cunningham said:

“Obviously, it’s 2011. There’s no institutionalized sexism. There’s human resources. Women have recourse at work when things happen. “Prime Suspect” [will] try to make it more realistic, because sexism isn’t gone. It’s kind of more subtle and insidious in a modern world, and that’s what we’re going to try to do.”

What? No institutionalized sexism?? I’m not sure what world Cunningham lives in but sexism, both blatant and subtle, still very much exists.

As the show progresses, we see Detective Timoney collaborate with her colleagues. We see the hilarious friendship and banter between Detectives Blando and Calderon. We also see Timoney clash with her co-workers, boss, her loving boyfriend, her protective father and her vegan sister (yay a vegan!). Detective Timoney might be a hard-ass. But she’s also funny as hell. Here are some of Jane Timoney’s quips throughout the season:

Timoney: I love to know where the crime scene isn’t.
­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­
Timoney: Ever seen a duck? Yeah, they don’t chew either. You just ate that hot dog like a duck.
Hypnotherapist: You don’t seem to be in the right head space to quit smoking right now.
Timoney: I don’t just want to smoke right now. I want to shove a pack of cigarettes in my mouth and light it with a blowtorch.
Timoney: You look tired means you look old. You look short. How’s that feel?
Duffy: Do you know what your problem is?
Timoney: Oh, why limit it to just one?

Detective Jane Timoney (Maria Bello) in “Prime Suspect”

In addition to sexism, the show also broached racism. In one of the episodes, 10 of Detective Timoney’s colleagues get pulled from a case of a murdered Latina to work on the murder of a pretty white female who’s an NYU student. Timoney tells the Chief:

“You’re making their point for them. You couldn’t have done it better…When it’s a missing brown girl, from a nobody family, it’s an afterthought.”

While I wish the show had delved deeper, I was thrilled this line appeared at all. Rarely does a TV show with a white protagonist tackle the intersection of racism and sexism.

Prime Suspect also makes interesting gender commentaries when Detective Timoney interacts with other women. There’s another female detective, Detective Carolina Rivera, who all the men flirt with. She’s coquettish and friendly in return. It’s a stark contrast to Detective Timoney’s no-nonsense, straight-forward style. She doesn’t care if the men like her. She’s there to do her job. Timoney also differs from her boyfriend’s ex-wife, Trish, who she often has to communicate with since her boyfriend and Trish share a young son. Trish often makes snide remarks about her carrying a gun or her line of work, especially when it co. Timoney isn’t a girlie girl. And she’s no pushover. In a great scene, after Trish asks Timoney what happened to her face (which is cut and bruised from fighting with an arrested suspect):


“Listen to me: I work terrible hours, often have to leave things early, I arrive to things late. I get phone calls in the middle of the night and all day long. I’ve never been shot, but I’ve been stabbed. I’ve had lye thrown in my face once, and I’m a homicide detective, Trish. Not a policeman or a policewoman. I’m also not a divorce lawyer, but I know about going to court.”

In “Underwater,” my fave episode so far, Timoney and Duffy go on a road trip to protect a little girl. Timoney grows fond of her, telling her she doesn’t like many people but that she likes her. While she’s close with her father and boyfriend, she has seemingly chosen not to have children of her own. In an episode where a man has beaten his wife and murdered her, he asks Detective Timoney why she doesn’t have children. She replies:

“I don’t know. Lucky.”

It’s rare for a female protagonist not to want children. Films, TV series and ads perpetually tell us all women want to have babies. If they don’t, they must be damaged, deluding themselves or they just haven’t found the right man yet. Because you know silly ladies, our lives revolve around men.

One of my favorite moments occurs in the premiere. In a heart-breaking scene, Timoney comes home to her boyfriend, after a grueling day. The two of them fought earlier. She asks him to hold her even though he’s mad because she had a rough day. In a rare moment of exasperation and tenderness, Timoney quietly cries in his arms. She’s not a caricature. She’s a fully developed, complex character who knows she can’t let down her guard and weep at work.

Detective Jane Timoney (Maria Bello) in “Prime Suspect”

In “The Sad Death of Prime Suspect,” Melissa Silverstein laments Prime Suspect’s cancellation. She also talks about the difficulties of centering a show around a female protagonist:


“One thing this show made me notice is how it is easy to write a TV show starring a man and have female and male supporting characters surround that lead, but that it is way harder to write a show about a female lead and to create a realistic ensemble around her.

“One of the issues with this show is that there were no other female credible characters on the show. It’s too much baggage for the female lead. She has to respond to the pretty cop who comes in and flirts, she has to deal with the crazy demands of her boyfriend’s ex, she has a crazy sister (where did that come from?). None of those women was a peer or someone she could have a decent conversation with to get her away from all the testosterone.”

That’s my one complaint of the show too: the lack of strong and interesting female characters for Timoney to interact with. No female camaraderie. No best friend to vent to. I wish the show contained a multitude of female characters or sexism in the workplace remained a central theme. But who knows where the show might have taken us.
Prime Suspect is a compelling show with a memorable female character. I’ll be sad as I watch the last 2 episodes Sunday night. I’m going to miss Detective Jane Timoney. We need more badass women like her.

Trailers for ‘Snow White & the Huntsman’ and ‘Mirror, Mirror’ Perpetuate Stereotypes of Women, Beauty & Aging and Pit Women Against Each Other

Charlize Theron as Queen Ravenna and Kristen Stewart as Snow White in ‘Snow White and the Huntsman’
Woman obsessed with aging fights her fading beauty. Older woman jealous of  younger woman. Younger woman rescued by a prince. Yep, it’s a tale as old as time that Hollywood keeps churning out. With fairy tales ingrained in our collective psyche, it’s no surprise we now have two Snow White films looming on the horizon.

In the hyped Snow White and the Huntsman, the infamous fairy tale transforms into a macabre Lord of the Rings-esqe action-adventure epic. Charlize Theron (love her!), a phenomenal actor who imbues her nuanced characters with depth, based her performance of the obsessive queen on Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Sounds interesting so far, right?

The intriguing trailer focuses heavily on Queen Ravenna (Charlize Theron), who narrates or speaks almost exclusively. Okay, I kinda like that. But why doesn’t Snow White (Kristen Stewart) say anything? Why does it seem in every trailer for one of her films (ahem, Twilight series) Stewart’s character mute?? And why the fuck did they have to add “The Huntsman” in the title?! Why couldn’t it have just been “Snow White?” Or “Snow White and the Queen?” Heaven forbid a film focuses on multiple women…without a dude.

In the Snow White fairy tale, the Queen rules the kingdom she stole from heiress Snow White. But as Rebecca Cohen points out, in film versions like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, we never see the Queen actually do anything regarding political machinations other than obsess over maintaining her fading beauty and plot to kill her stepdaughter. She possesses no ambitions beyond eternal beauty. Sadly, this film seems no different.

Queen Ravenna (Charlize Theron); ‘Snow White and the Huntsman’
We see the powerful sorceress engage in beauty treatments, like bathing in milk and sucking out the souls of young maidens to rejuvenate her striking appearance. Wait, she’s got all this power and she’s wasting it on looking young?? Oh you know us women; all we care about is our looks! In the trailer, Queen Ravenna says:
“Do you hear that? It’s the sound of battles fought and lives lost. It once pained me to know I am the cause of such despair. But now, their cries give me strength. Beauty is my power.”

Sigh. The defense for every person who thinks feminism is unnecessary. Women aren’t oppressed; they derive power from their beauty and sexuality! Too many films try to prop up this tired myth. Yes, when you feel good about your outer appearance, it can bolster your inner self-confidence. But I’m here to tell you ladies, there is NO power in beauty. It’s a ruse, a sham. No power exists in the objectification of women’s bodies.
 
Not to be outdone, the family-friendly comedy Mirror, Mirror is also tackling Snow White. While Snow White at least speaks in this trailer, Mirror, Mirror again puts the spotlight on the Queen, this time played by Julia Roberts. In this version, the Queen isn’t envisioned as evil, just insecure. All throughout the trailer, Queen Clementianna (Julia Roberts) makes snide comments about Snow White (Lily Collins)’s beauty and how she herself isn’t getting wrinkles but “crinkles.” We see her girdle getting cinched. She uses a love potion on the rich prince, whom she wants to marry to cure her “financial troubles.” So Roberts’ Queen doesn’t even seem faux empowered like Theron. Instead she’s reduced to a shallow, insecure, bitter woman. How funny!

Now, the original Snow White isn’t an enlightened, gender equitable, female empowerment tale. Young woman plays housekeeper, cooking and cleaning for a bunch of dudes after her stepmother banishes her to the woods, who then falls into a coma after eating a poisoned apple by said stepmother, awakened with a kiss by a prince with whom she rides off into the sunset – not exactly screaming feminism. If Hollywood wanted to retell this story, why not put a twist on it?

And that’s what Snow White and the Huntsman attempts to do. In this version, Snow White (Kristen Stewart) is an armor-wearing, sword-wielding badass. Screenwriter Evan Daugherty wanted to update the fairy tale:

“What if, instead of saving Snow White, the Huntsman teaches Snow White to save herself?”

Oooh a warrior Snow White! Potentially promising. And I like the idea of her saving herself. Except that Snow White (Kristen Stewart) is trained by…you guessed it, a dude. The Huntsman, initially ordered by Queen Ravenna to  kill Snow White and cut out her heart so the Queen can consume it and live forever, decides to protect Snow White and train her for combat.

Even Lily Collins plays a perky, fencing Snow White in Mirror, Mirror. In the trailer, she says:
“I’ve read so many stories where the prince saves the princess. It’s time we changed that.”

I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. And I love a badass female warrior as much as the next cinephile. But in both Snow White and the Huntsman and Mirror, Mirror, Snow White has no female friends, no maternal figure for guidance, nurturance and support. Women are pitted against each other. It’s all men, men, men.

Snow White may be more of a badass in these retellings. But that doesn’t mean she’s feminist. The trailers for upcoming Snow White and the Huntsman and Mirror, Mirror spread a message of women, beauty and aging. They pit women against each other, particularly older women against younger women. They tell us that older women obsess over their looks, forever jealous of innocent younger women’s youth and vitality. They reinforce cattiness and competition, tossing aside the importance of female friendship and camaraderie. Oh silly ladies, you don’t need to rely on other women or even yourself. You just need a strong man to rescue you.

Really, Hollywood, haven’t we seen enough of these tired tropes? How about a truly empowered woman. Or better yet, a film with several strong female characters, who are friends, not foes. Now that, not a woman swinging a sword, would be truly radical.

—–

Trailers for Snow White and the Huntsman and Mirror, Mirror:

 
 

2012 Golden Globe Analysis

Since yesterday was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, a federal holiday, I thought it was more important to post something specific about race in the United States than an analysis of the Golden Globes. However, it turns out there’s still a lot to say about race with regards to the awards. More about that–and my picks for highlights and lowlights of the cerermony–after a quick rundown of the night’s winners.

Motion Picture
Best Picture – Drama: The Descendents
Best Performance by an Actress – Drama: Meryl Streep for The Iron Lady
Best Performance by an Actor – Drama: George Clooney for The Descendents
Best Picture – Comedy or Musical: The Artist
Best Performance by an Actress – Comedy or Musical: Michelle Williams for My Week with Marilyn
Best Performance by an Actor – Comedy or Musical: Jean Dujardin for The Artist
Best Animated Feature Film: The Adventures of Tintin
Best Foreign Language Film: Asghar Farhadi for A Separation
Best Director: Martin Scorsese for Hugo
Best Screenplay: Woody Allen for Midnight in Paris
Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role: Octavia Spencer for The Help
Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role: Christopher Plummer for Beginners
Best Original Score: Ludovic Bource for The Artist
Best Original Song: “Masterpiece” by Madonna, Julie Frost & Jimmy Harry for W.E.

Television
Best Series – Drama: Homeland
Best Performance by an Actress – Drama Series: Claire Danes for Homeland
Best Performance by an Actor  – Drama Series : Kelsey Grammer for Boss
Best Series – Comedy or Musical: Modern Family
Best Performance by an Actress – Comedy or Musical Series: Laura Dern for Enlightened
Best Performance by an Actor – Comedy or Musical Series: Matt LeBlanc for Episodes
Best Mini-Series or Motion Picture: Downton Abbey
Best Performance by an Actress in a Mini-Series or Motion Picture: Kate Winslet for Mildred Pierce
Best Performance by an Actor in a Mini-Series or Motion Picture: Idris Elba for Luther
Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role: Jessica Lange for American Horror Story
Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role: Peter Dinklage for Game of Thrones

Cecil B. DeMille Award: Morgan Freeman

A few brief thoughts about the nominees and winners:

  • No women were nominated in the score, screenplay, best picture, or directing categories.
  • The only woman to win an award outside of acting was Madonna, for best original song.
  • Two people of color won acting awards–Octavia Spencer & Idris Elba–which seems better than previous years, though perhaps still not good enough. 
  • Modern Family won yet another award, this time in a category that did not include Parks and Recreation, which I would argue is the best comedy on television.
  • Matt LeBlanc & Kelsey Grammer?! I didn’t realize the 1990s were experiencing such a resurgence, and these were some of the biggest surprises of the night for me.
Highlights:

Meryl “I can’t believe I said shit on TV” Streep
Meryl Streep
Her acceptance speech was exuberant and funny. She forgot her glasses, was possibly drunk, swore, and was censored. She then proceeded to deliver the best speech of the night. She mentioned not only the other women nominated in her category, but gave a shout-out to Pariah star Adepero Oduye and Jane Eyre star Mia Wasikowska. She is lovely, classy, funny (with two references to host Gervais), intelligent, and willing to step out of her comfort zone to take on challenging roles (like this one). 
Here’s a clip of the speech from YouTube, which will probably be taken down soon:

Tina Fey & Jane Lynch
Tina Fey and Jane Lynch
Two very funny women presented an award and proceeded to joke about how little they resemble the characters they play on television. But the best moment came at the end, when they not only got in that penis joke,* but highlighted the “triumph” with an in-unison “penis joke!”
Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy sing
Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy
Another favorite moment involved the presentation of an award, rather than an acceptance speech or anything the host said. The duo sang their teleprompter speech, giving us all a pleasant surprise. In a show that can be–and often is–boring and too serious (which is why a host like Gervais is brought in at all), their moment was fun, light-hearted, and playful. If only there were more moments like this in the 3-hour ceremony…
Lowlights:
Ricky Gervais being…funny?
Ricky Gervais
Gervais tells sexist, homophobic jokes and thinks (?) it’s funny to say he “can’t fucking understand” native Spanish speakers (who also speak perfectly clear English) Salma Hayek and Antonio Banderas. However, he also skewers  celebrities during the very awards ceremonies that laud them and treat them like royalty. I like this dynamic very much, and think it captures the way many of us feel about movie stars: we simultaneously adore them and find them utterly ridiculous. The Golden Globes needs a host who is funny and irreverent if the show is to be of any interest to average viewers. I’m convinced this person exists, and I’m also convinced that Gervais is not this person.


Meltem Cumbul on the red carpet

Meltem Cumbul

Ordinarily I’d be pleased to see an international film star who isn’t from the United States appear at the Golden Globes. However, I was puzzled by the appearance of Meltem Cumbul, who made a brief statement and then left the stage. She didn’t present an award, and she didn’t introduce a presenter. While it was wonderful for the Globes to acknowledge that films are made outside of Hollywood, it struck me as a cynical move–to have us believe that the organization is more progressive and inclusive than it actually is. Perhaps I’d be more convinced if she’d have served a purpose on stage, or if the HFPA had more than one category recognizing filmmaking around the world.
Queen Latifah introduces Best Picture nominee The Help
Queen Latifah introduces The Help
Queen Latifah is a talented, confident, and beautiful Black woman, and it was good to see her on stage. That the Globes brought her on stage to introduce the only Best Picture nominee that remotely deals with the experience of Black people…well, that looks like the same kind of cynical move I saw with Cumbul’s appearance. I also can’t help but think that this was the HFPA’s way to avoid or sidestep the real backlash against this movie. Octavia Spencer won for her performance in The Help–and, as I tweeted during the ceremony, I’m glad she won–but it would be nice to see a Black woman win an award for playing something other than a maid, and it would also be nice to see a Black woman introduce a Best Picture nominee that isn’t an extremely problematic story mainly about a White Savior.
Dishonorable Mentions
Penis Jokes*
As seems more and more the norm on television today, we can’t seem to get through a program without implicit or explicit penis jokes. I actually liked Fey and Lynch’s ironic joke, as I mentioned above, but because it was done in the spirit of acknowledging and ironically commenting on the comic trend. Whether you’re watching The Daily Show or the Golden Globes, you’re going to hear about penises. Sunday night, Seth Rogen sexually harassed his co-presenter Kate Beckinsale with a “joke” about having a “massive erection.” Later, George Clooney “joked” (though this seems timid compared to Rogen’s offense) that Michael Fassbender could play golf with his hands tied behind his back. All I can say about this is ENOUGH ALREADY.
Miss Golden Globe
Why oh why oh why oh why do we STILL have to have a lovely young woman stand on stage to occasionally usher off a confused star? Why? WHY?
That’s it from me. What are some of your favorite and least favorite moments from the 2012 Golden Globes?

YouTube Break: Meryl Streep on 60 Minutes

I love this 60 Minutes interview with Meryl Streep. She won the Best Actress Golden Globe on Sunday for her performance in The Iron Lady (stay tuned for our review!), and she talks here about sexism in Hollywood and what drew her to the role of Margaret Thatcher. (I’ve linked to the clip above in case the embedding doesn’t work.) 
Amber will have a recap of the Golden Globes later today.

George Lucas Couldn’t Make a Movie with an All-Black Cast

A week ago today, George Lucas appeared on The Daily Show to discuss Red Tails, which opens in theatres this coming weekend. Since Lucas is promoting the film, one might mistakenly call it “his film,” and he certainly seems to claim ownership of it (at least in the interview below). However, Lucas is one of four producers; Anthony Hemingway directs, and John Ridley & Aaron McGruder share writing credits.
Red Tails tells the story (at least a portion of it–Lucas alludes to a prequel and sequel) of the Tuskegee Airmen–a group of heroic Black pilots in World War II–who aren’t really as well known here in the U.S. as they should be. 
An action movie centering on a group of men, and targeted at teenage boys, isn’t typical terrain for Bitch Flicks. However, it’s shocking and remarkable that Lucas claims he couldn’t get this project of the ground because it stars an all-black cast and studios didn’t see a foreign market for the film.
Watch the Daily Show clip:


The Daily Show With Jon Stewart Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c
George Lucas
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog The Daily Show on Facebook

Many people in the United States like to imagine that we’re a post-racial society, and are quick to point out our current Black president and a handful of Black celebrities as evidence. But when one of the biggest and most powerful names in Hollywood can’t get a studio interested in a movie about a group of heroic Black military men, we should all be reminded that racism is alive and well, and that it remains institutionally embedded in our culture.
Going to see a movie in the theatre is, in some way, a political act. Where you choose to spend your movie dollars influences the kinds of movies that are greenlighted in the future. And, in our age of hyper-capitalism, the opening weekend means everything. 
Here’s the official movie trailer:

Red Tails opens this Friday, January 20th. Will you go see it?

Question of the Day: Biopic Wishes

Every week the Women’s Media Center hosts a tweetup–called #sheparty–to discuss issues of women and, uh, media. Last Wednesday the topic of biopics came up–specifically, the fact that there are currently two films in production about Linda Lovelace. Who? I had to look her up to remind me of where I’d heard that name before (it’s not the math genius, Ada Lovelace, who immediately came to mind for me). Linda Lovelace was the star of perhaps the most notorious porno of all time: Deep Throat.
Now, in theory I don’t think it’s unacceptable for a biopic to be made about a woman who happened to star in a famous porn film, though I’m immediately concerned about characterization, whose perspective we’ll see, who viewers will be encouraged to sympathize with, and all those other things that make films not just entertainment but social commentary.
What is unacceptable is that Lovelace herself testified that she was coerced into making porn. In 1986, she testified before the Meese Commission that “Virtually every time someone watches that movie, they’re watching me being raped.” While we can’t know the content of the films until at least scripts are released, this fact should give us pause, and make us consider Hollywood’s motivations for greenlighting two projects based on her life.
What is also unacceptable is that two films are being made, when there are so many other women out there–who’ve had major social, cultural, scientific, or political impacts–who haven’t had major motion pictures made about their lives.
During the tweetup, we asked participants who they’d rather see as the topic of a biopic–and the suggestions poured in. Below I list some–though not all–of the responses we received, and want to open the question up to all our readers.
Who would you like to see a Hollywood biopic made for?
Here are some of the suggestions that came to us via Twitter:
Emma Goldman
Alice Walker
Betty Friedan
Bette Davis
Alice Coltrane
Minnie Riperton
Hannah Arendt
Gloria Steinem
Nellie Bly
JK Rowling
Harper Lee
Margaret Atwood
Hillary Clinton
Margaret Mitchell
Mary Shelley
Gertrude Ederle
Louise Erdrich
Marilyn Monroe
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
Victoria Woodhull
Margaret Chase Smith
Amelia Earhart (better than Amelia and less focused on her love life)
Vita de Sackville West
Aayan Hirsi Ali
Audre Lorde
Marie Curie
Margaret Sanger
Eleanor Roosevelt
Thanks to all who suggested these women. Add your wishes in the comments!

From the Archive: Tiny Furniture

I’m still in the process of getting my shit together in 2012, so here’s a review I wrote in January 2011. Basically, I loved Tiny Furniture. Check it out if you can — it’s streaming on Netflix.
The film follows Aura (played by writer/director Lena Dunham), a 20-something self-described misanthrope who, after graduating from a film program at a small liberal arts school in Ohio, moves back to New York City to live with her famous-artist mother, Siri (played by Dunham’s real-life mother Laurie Simmons) and her budding-genius sister, highschooler Nadine (played by Dunham’s real-life sister Grace Dunham). The film wants to show that Aura is, in fact, Having a Very, Very Hard Time, as the tagline reveals, and it puts her through the typical hell that’s common in the heterosexual coming-of-age stories of early twenties womanhood: the struggle to find a reasonably paying job, a desire to make that college degree mean something, and, of course, a few random hookups with emotionally unavailable men. 
But more than anything, Tiny Furniture is a film about the relationships among women.
When Aura arrives home from college, she’s immediately confronted with her mother photographing her younger sister among a setup of, literally, tiny furniture. And, while the first indication of sibling rivalry appears, it already seems more refreshing and complicated than the traditional cliched portrayal of sister-hate and woman-on-woman divisiveness. The women converse with one another as if Aura hadn’t been in Ohio for four years; in fact, the casualness of their interaction–her mother barely looking up from her photography, her sister making sarcastic comparisons about her slender legs versus Aura’s heavier frame–suggests a comfort with one another that transcends their almost performed familial coldness. 
Perhaps most intriguingly, the on-screen relationships feel so authentic that the unmentioned absent father is hardly noticeable. Who cares, after all?  Women rock the screen, and, unlike a couple of recent woman-centric films (The Kids Are All Right, Winter’s Bone–both arguably feminist) it has nothing to do with a need to compensate for the failings of the men in their lives. 
Almost immediately when Aura moves back to New York, she meets up with her childhood friend Charlotte (played by Jemima Kirke) at a party. Charlotte is portrayed as a spoiled, drama-craving brat, but Aura clings to her, at one point even referring to Charlotte as her best friend. (Her mother later says sarcastically in response, “After two weeks?”) They hang out in Charlotte’s apartment, getting high together and talking about art, men, joblessness, addiction, their parents–and they flatter each other; the audience is never encouraged to view these women as rivals. The point of their friendship is to illustrate the absolute aloneness of being an aimless twenty-something and not knowing what the hell to do in life. In several hilarious scenes, Charlotte begs Aura not to leave, once going as far as to roll around on her bed saying, “Please stay,” which the audience is meant to find both endearing and pathetic.
And while the relationship between Charlotte and Aura works mainly because of their shared loneliness and need to connect, the onscreen relationship between the two sisters thoughtfully investigates the obstacles inherent in familial relationships. In fact, it didn’t surprise me at all when I discovered that they’re actually real-life sisters because their sibling rapport feels incredibly authentic. While Aura drinks bottle after bottle of her mother’s wine with her friends, Nadine runs on the treadmill, does crunches while reading a book, writes award-winning poetry, and teases Aura about her directionless existence. But the back-and-forth nitpicking between them is perfectly juxtaposed against scenes exhibiting such tenderness as can only occur in close relationships.
One of my favorite scenes in the movie involves Nadine throwing a party while her mother is out, leaving Aura to supervise things. Of course, the party gets out of hand–we’re dealing with a slew of highschoolers railing against Aura-as-Authority-Figure (because, let’s face it, if Aura is anything, Authority Figure isn’t on the list)–and Aura starts to have a panic attack. She does the only thing she can think to do, call Charlotte to come over and help her get the party under control. Which is hilarious. Because Charlotte is more of a disaster than Aura is. So, it isn’t surprising at all when Charlotte starts giving lap dances and Aura starts walking around the party in her underwear.
The screaming match that ensues between Aura and Nadine could’ve been taken from a direct transcript of a real-life sibling fight. I cringed at the truthfulness of Nadine’s accusations as she criticized Aura for craving the attention of high school boys. (Those boys, however, reciprocated by making fun of Aura and dissing her body.) And when Nadine starts smacking Aura with a spatula and storms off, the audience feels sympathy for both sisters; neither is the villain in this film, and Dunham’s navigation of that terrain seems effortless from beginning to end. I won’t spoil the brief make-up scene between Aura and Nadine because the film is worth watching for that moment alone.
Aura spends much of the film, when she isn’t fighting with her sister, thinking of herself as somewhat of an artist/filmmaker, as evidenced by her YouTube videos (where she usually wears only her underwear or a bathing suit). Since Aura isn’t traditionally beautiful, and isn’t a size two like most of the half-naked women we’re used to seeing onscreen, at first it’s almost shocking to watch her walk around barely clothed throughout the film (which further illustrates the level of comfort and intimacy she feels with her mother and sister). But Dunham doesn’t include those scenes merely for shock value. The comments left on her YouTube videos consistently make fun of her weight and her looks. She reads the insulting feedback aloud to Charlotte, and they both try to blow it off, but not without Aura remarking on how difficult it is to put that negativity out of her mind.
For anyone who’s ever browsed the comments on YouTube videos, it’s impossible not to notice the disgusting misogyny and homophobia that plague them. Not only does Dunham subtly comment on that, but she also manages to reinforce the importance of supportive women friendships as a way to help combat the barrage of bullshit women deal with daily, especially when it concerns unattainable beauty ideals. It’s interesting to note, too, that Charlotte is traditionally attractive, and yet their friendship never digresses into any sort of competition, least of all one that involves some stereotypical competition over men.
The film doesn’t completely shy away from the subject of men, though, and the two men Aura meets both basically suck. One spends the first half of the movie mooching off Aura–and she lets him–staying in her house, eating her food, drinking her mother’s wine, but when she tries to take their “friendship” to the next level, he refuses. For Aura to attempt to hook up with such a caricature of a loser further drives home her loneliness and desire for connection. With anyone. So it isn’t surprising either when she goes after the chef she works with, who likes “Asian tentacle rape” pornography–whatever the hell that is–and exploits Aura’s obvious crush on him to get her to give him pills (even though he has a girlfriend).
Watching the film, one can’t avoid thinking, “C’mon, Aura, you know better than this.” But the material is so impossible not to relate to–who hasn’t lusted after the entirely wrong person, and known it?–that one can’t fault her for putting herself through it.
Those interactions with men accompanied by Aura’s reading aloud of her mother’s diary (written during her twenties) give further insight into the relationship Aura has with her mother. In many ways, regardless of how often the two women clash, Aura admires her. She’s a successful artist who’s clearly independent. She’s rich. She has no apparent need for a man in her life. Yet her diary reveals many of her obsessions in her twenties: with body image–she constantly journaled her food choices, with men and their inadequacies, and particularly with feeling like she wasn’t living up to her potential as an artist.
The final scene of the film, with Aura curled up with her mother in her mother’s bed, discussing the diary, openly discussing Aura’s horrid sexual encounter from earlier in the evening (completely absent of judgment from her mother–her only concern is that Aura practices safe sex), discussing Aura’s own fears of failure, which her mother squashes with, “Oh, you’ll be much more successful than I am,” feels so heart-wrenchingly honest it’s almost difficult to watch. And the ending, which features a literal ticking clock that could’ve felt contrived and artificial, totally works. It isn’t that the two women desire to stop time; they just don’t want the obvious reminder of its passing. 
As Aura struggles with all these issues, reading her mother’s diary (and sharing it with the audience) serves to remind us that even though coming-of-age ain’t fun, particularly for young women navigating the patriarchy, it’s still possible to come out on the other end fairly unscathed. 

In ‘The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo’ Remake, Rooney Mara’s Captivating Portrayal Proves Lisbeth Salander Still a Feminist Icon

Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) in “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”
Cross-posted from The Opinioness of the World.

Lisbeth Salander consumes my thoughts. I’ve spent the last year and a half reading, writing, analyzing, debating and discussing the punk hacker. As a huge fan of the books and the original Swedish films, I was NOT excited to see The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo Hollywood remake.

Plagued by sexist marketing that seemed to focus solely on Mikael and depict Lisbeth as a sexpot damsel in distress, I feared Hollywood would wreck one of the most unique female protagonists in pop culture. With trepidation, I watched David Fincher’s take on Stieg Larsson’s epic. While some gender problems arose, I’ve got to admit I was pleasantly surprised. And it all hinges on Rooney Mara’s performance.

For those who don’t know, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, the first part in the global phenomenon of The Millennium Trilogy, features disgraced crusading journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) and brilliant researcher Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) who unite to solve the mystery of a woman who disappeared 40 years ago. The gritty, tense plot fuses with social commentary on violence against women, sexuality and gender roles.

Do we really need an American remake? Fincher, a notoriously obsessive and detailed filmmaker, creates a gorgeous film evoking a macabre ambiance. Trent Reznor’s eerie and haunting score punctuates each slickly stylized scene perfectly. Phenomenal actors fill the screen: Craig, Robin Wright (who I will watch in absolutely anything), Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgaard, Vanessa Redgrave. While everyone does their best, the remake isn’t quite as compelling as the original. I never really felt invested in any of the characters. Except for Lisbeth. The sole reason to see the film is Mara’s stellar portrayal.

Lisbeth Salander is a role of a lifetime. Both Noomi Rapace (in the original film) and Mara underwent grueling auditions and year-long transformations including haircuts, body piercings (ears, eyebrow, lip, nose, nipple), nudity, kickboxing workouts, and learning skateboarding and motorcycle riding. A sullen introvert, Lisbeth is strong, fiercely independent and self-sufficient. She possesses a razor-sharp intellect and relentless survivor instincts. She’s endured horrific trauma and betrayal yet refuses to be a victim.

Fincher obstinately fought for Mara as Sony Studios didn’t want her for the part. After watching the film, I can see why Fincher refused to concede. It’s hard to dissect Mara’s Golden Globe-nominated performance and pinpoint precisely what she does that makes her so compelling. And that’s because as Melissa Silverstein writes, she “disappears into the role.” When Lisbeth greets the people she cares about, her guardian Holger Palmgren and Mikael, she frenetically says, “Hey, hey,” a small detail adding depth and nuance to the character. It’s in the clipped cadence of her voice, her slumped shoulders, her wounded eyes. Mara doesn’t merely play Lisbeth. She becomes her.

Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) and Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig)
People have asked my thoughts on Hollywood’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, wondering if I loved or hated it. More importantly, they want to know if I prefer Noomi Rapace’s subtle yet fiercely badass warrior (which is how I envisioned Lisbeth) or Rooney Mara’s vulnerable yet quietly powerful portrayal. I was prepared to hate Mara. How could anyone surpass or even equal Rapace’s critically acclaimed performance?

But I loved them both. For me, neither one is better. Both bring something unique conveying different facets of Lisbeth’s personality. They belong to two sides of the same coin. Mara, who had ginormous shoes to fill with Rapace’s ferocious portrayal in the original, gave a captivating performance. I’m glad the shitty marketing didn’t keep me away or I would have missed one of the best performances of the year.

People have simultaneously praised and condemned The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo for its graphic depiction of rape. The American version doesn’t shy away from the brutal scene. We live in a rape culture often glorifying or dismissing rape and violence against women. Author Larsson tried to show the epidemic of misogyny. The book (originally entitled Män Som Hatar Kvinnor, which translates to “Men Who Hate Women”), original Swedish film and Hollywood remake confront the stigma of sexual assault. Yet it never feels exploitative. Lisbeth refuses to be victimized. She follows her own moral compass exacting vigilante justice. She doesn’t possess traditional power. So she works within the confines of patriarchy to assert herself and take control of her life.

A huge part of the book (and the entire trilogy) is Lisbeth and Mikael’s friendship. Despite his social nature and her private behavior, they both stubbornly follow their own moral code. He’s continually surprised and amused by her unconventional comments and reactions. Mikael’s openness, humor and honesty allow Lisbeth to trust him, something she does so rarely. The movie doesn’t shirk their sexual relationship yet never captures their emotional bond. Lisbeth and Mikael also exhibit overt sexualities. Lisbeth possesses a sexual fluidity, sleeping with both women and men. Yet society views Mikael’s philandering as socially acceptable and perceives Lisbeth as an outcast. It’s a crucial gender commentary absent from the film.

But my biggest problem with Hollywood’s The Girl With Dragon Tattoo lies in one sentence. One teeny tiny sentence that threatens to unravel all of the painstaking work Mara put into her performance. SPOILER!! -> In the scene where Mikael has been cut from the noose, Lisbeth intends to run after his murderous perpetrator. She asks him, “May I kill him?”

Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara)
In an interview with Charlie Rose, Fincher shared what he found so compelling about Lisbeth. Oh, but it’s not her feminist persona as he insists this is NOT a feminist story:

“I think that she is many things to many different people…I was fascinated by the fact that 60-year-old men, you know 58-year-old women, 17-year-old girls were all finding something about her that was you know freeing or empowering in some kind of way. And it had been kind of sold to me as this you know misogynist avenger. But what I felt about it was ultimately that there wasn’t any kind of real feminist tract to it all.

“To me, it was very human. It’s a story of being oppressed, a story of being marginalized, a story of being made to feel less than, it’s a character that’s been made to feel less than who she thinks she is…”

I don’t think Fincher has any clue what a feminist actually is. Newsflash, a feminist story is a “human” story. Neither Fincher nor Mara perceives Lisbeth as a badass feminist (even though she is) because she doesn’t do “anything in the name of any group or cause or belief.” But they’re fucking wrong.

Lisbeth combats misogyny and sexism. She abhors violence against women and avenges injustice. She refuses to be taken advantage of, always asserting her control. She surrenders to no one. She strives for empowerment, living life on her own terms. I agree Lisbeth wouldn’t call herself a feminist, just as she doesn’t identify as bisexual, since she doesn’t want labels confining her identity. Neither her gender, her appearance, nor her sexuality define her. Lisbeth defines herself. Every single one of these components reinforce a feminist message.

Despite Fincher and Mara’s insistent refusal, both The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and its heroine are feminist. Saying otherwise completely misses the point of what makes Lisbeth Salander such an exhilarating icon.