‘Castle’ Part 1: Why Can’t We Just Be Friends?

Castle in on ABC.


Written by Janyce Denise Glasper

An avid fan of most Whedonverse alums, I started watching Castle in the middle of the fourth season to see the charming charismatic Nathan Fillion (Firefly, Buffy, and Dr. Horrible’s Sing- Along Blog) play the title role. Stana Katic–although a new actress to me, is a fantastic choice to play Detective Kate Beckett, a strong, independent, and very smart cop with a ferocious attitude and deliverer of humorous quips and handcuffs to the bad guys.

After Castle’s season five finale in which Beckett has to choose between a great promotion to D.C. and a marriage proposal, it raised a lot of questions about the summer hiatus. Why should she risk an opportunity to enhance her talented skills on a chance to become wife number three? Why are fans outraged and painting her selfish if she chose the power move over love? Most importantly, how did her relationship with Castle get to this point of wedding bells?

In television, there are far too many serials where the two leads get together–often at the workplace. This simply showcases that men and women cannot work in close quarters without “love” getting in the way. It leaves writers to play too much on the “will they or won’t they?” device which can muddle an entire episode. More often than not, they get the answer wrong (Mulder and Scully still comes to mind). Chemistry is a good thing to have, but why must it always be addressed as a sexual one? Why can’t men and women be friends at the workplace? Kate has beers with her male colleagues before and after Castle shows up. Why can’t he just be one more face across the bar?

Now I’ve finished watching the first two seasons of Castle–all 34 episodes over the course of a weekend and can honestly say that I’m not quite buying a passage on the “Caskett” train yet. Banter between the leads is fun to watch, and Fillion has an intriguing engagement with Katic.
And the opening premise isn’t hard to swallow.

Castle (Nathan Fillion) is a little too enthused over being interrogated by Kate (Stana Katic).

Famed crime novelist Richard Castle is a man surrounded by women. He lives with Alexis, his teenage genius daughter, and Martha, his mother–a Broadway actress who has to stay at his humble abode because an ex spent her entire savings. One of Castle’s former wives (he has two) happens to be his publicist and Alexis’s mother. He is at a point in his life where things are coming to a mundane standstill. Until Detective Kate Beckett, a secret Castle book fan, has a few questions for him. After getting a taste of helping the police aide in a case, thanks to a friendship with the mayor, he gets to stick around much to Beckett’s displeasure and announces that he plans to pen a book starring his new inspiration–Detective Kate Beckett.
That’s already two strikes in many of Castle’s interferences. 

Kate (Stana Katic) flashes her badge of honor.

While Castle is surrounded by women, emotionally guarded Kate is nestled in a man’s world. Her boss is Captain Roy Montgomery, and her two buddies are partners Detective Kevin Ryan and Detective Javier Esposito. She decided to become a cop because her mother was violently murdered, and for years she had run her own private investigation but ultimately decided to stop. She is drawn to strange cases, gets them solved in a matter of forty minutes with help from her friends and even Castle, who frequently spins his writer fictions yet shows off an incredible knack for crime resolution.

Castle does, however, add innuendo to conversations and is often too suggestive, but Kate doesn’t seem to mind lighting his fuses. Still not seeing the “love” here. Maybe it’s too early. Just a humorous camaraderie between a cop and a man that annoys her for fun. He brings charming wit and coffee into her gritty life, but it doesn’t change who he is at the end of the day–a big kid. He plays games with his daughter and sleeps around frequently, but every time a man shows interest in Kate, his bear claws come out. “No one touches my muse,” his expression says to these men who then always ask Kate–“Is there something going on between you two?”

At the end of season one, Castle coordinates his own investigation into Beckett’s mom’s murder (which she strictly forbade), and it angers her so much that she wants him gone.
Strike three.

Everyone wants Beckett (Stana Katic) to date Castle (Nathan Fillion) because he follows her around like a puppy.

However, Beckett’s friends just want her to be with Castle (because she’s beautiful, young, and lonely yadda yadda yadda!), and he gets compliments aplenty all around the precinct. Medical examiner Lanie Parish often tells Kate to give Castle a chance although it’s not clear why she does, having barely shared a few scenes with him. Also, I don’t think I would ever advise a friend to date a man staring hard at my cleavage and having conversations with them. Plus, why is it so wrong for Beckett to stay single? Lanie is too!

“Why do you think he keeps following you around? I’m sure it’s not to watch you be with another man.” –Detective Javier Esposito

Yet Beckett should continue seeing Castle flock to his women? Ugh!
From A Deadly Game, season two’s finale, Detective Javier Esposito says the above statement. It’s insensitive considering the fact that Kate has started dating a nice someone–a former co-worker and friend of his, Demming. It gets nastier when Castle keeps asking Kate to spend the summer at his Hamptons home knowing this. By the end of the episode she dumps Demming (who sadly doesn’t understand why) and is shyly on the verge of asking Castle out, but bam! He springs out his ex-wife, saying that she is his Hamptons last-minute companion. Kate is left embarrassed, and her nosy friends are watching through the glass.

This irksome moment defined Castle’s selfishness and vanity. Prior to the finale, in the episode Overkill, his ego wanted to win a case and went to battle with Demming in a disgusting showing of oversized macho testosterone. The finale further revealed just how vile his intentions were and made him pretty much unlikable for a strong woman like Kate.

Use us all: Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Roy),  Susan Sullivan (Martha), Molly Quinn (Alexis), Nathan Fillion (Castle), Stana Katic (Kate), Tamala Jones (Lanie), Jon Huertas (Esposito), and Seamus Dever (Ryan).
Castle has such a diverse cast, but creator Andrew Marlowe barely uses them all in one episode because he’s spending too much time building up Caskett. Yes. It’s a difficult challenge dealing with a large amount of actors, but each character is important in every aspect of the story–from the murder scene to the morgue to the precinct to Castle’s house (weird fit but this is his point of view). Here’s hoping that in the next three seasons of catch up that stories utilize characters outside of Castle and Beckett and, of course, answer the big question of whether I hop on the Caskett train or the casket bus. Male and female friends can work together. It’s just in the television world they seem to always want more. 

‘National Treasure’s Abigail Chase: a Loveable Badass Who Makes Questionable Choices

Written by Robin Hitchcock
I’ve made it a tradition to watch National Treasure every 4th of July, not only because it is a fantastic dumb-fun movie, but because I don’t own Independence Day (who am I kidding, I would just do a double feature).
Abigail Chase (Diane Kruger) in National Treasure
So I had planned to do an appreciation post celebrating Abigail Chase, the Smurfette of this goofy movie played by the exquisite Diane Kruger. And she is wonderful, as I’ll explain in a moment, but I find myself pretty disturbed by how quickly she gets over essentially being kidnapped by a pair of lunatic criminals. Not since Beauty and the Beast’s Belle has a tough and lovable movie character had such disturbing symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome.
Abigail starts out charmingly sassing Nicolas Cage’s Ben Gates, whackadoo treasure hunter who tells her there’s a map on the back of the Declaration of Independence. She asks to see one of the many clues that led him on his Dan Brown-ian mystery quest, but he doesn’t have it anymore. “Did Bigfoot take it?” she asks.
Oh, another bit in that first meeting that makes me just love her. She explains her accent is German, and doofy sidekick Riley incredulously asks, “You’re not American?” She replies, “Oh, I’m American. I just wasn’t born here.” Statue of Liberty FIST PUMP!
Abigail in action hero mode
Before her Stockholm Syndrome sets in, Abigail awesomely and badassly tries to stop our alleged heroes’ theft of the Declaration of Independence, snatching it (or what she thinks is it) out of Ben’s hands and hanging off a truck to keep it away from the Really Bad Guys (who are adorably British—THE VERY ENEMY WE DECLARED INDEPENDENCE FROM!). All while wearing a really beautiful dress!
Abigail’s stunning dress. LOVE IT, COVET.
Ben saves her from being kidnapped by the Really Bad Guys by kidnapping her himself, much like he stole the Declaration of Independence to stop them from stealing it. And he’s extremely rude to her, telling her to shut up over and over again, and when she yanks the real document out of his hands and tries to run away (still in her formal wear, mind you) he picks her up bodily. Just in case there was any doubt she was being kidnapped. 
Abigail starts cooperating
Somewhere along the way (around when Ben convinces her there actually is a treasure to be found) she goes along willingly. You could argue that this is just because of her personal interest in history and curiosity about the treasure. BUT THEN SHE GETS ALL SMOOCHY WITH BEN. Girlfriend, that dude does not deserve your kisses.
Later he drops her off a rickety swinging platform to save the Declaration, but at least when he apologizes for it she tells him not to apologize because “I would have done exactly the same thing to you.” But then Ben makes a frowny face because he’s a jerkwad.
Ben disregarding Abigail’s safety
And the final insult: even though Abigail has done a significant part of the work following the clues to the treasure, and put her life in danger, she isn’t rewarded. Riley and Ben collectively take 1% of the value of the treasure, which is enough to buy Ben a palatial estate and Riley a sports car (and general economic security, presumably). Riley says he got “one half of one percent.” It stands to reason that Ben got the other half. Leaving nothing for Abigail! Except a relationship with Ben. HER KIDNAPPER.
But I still love her despite her questionable choices.
Happy Fourth of July to our US-ian readers!
Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town, South Africa. She misses her beloved home country extra hard today.

A Letter to Hollywood: Keep Films Like ‘The Heat’ Coming

The Heat movie poster.

Dear Hollywood Movie Executives,
As I have driven by my local movie theater this summer, I’ve been struck by how I haven’t wanted to see most of the movies. You haven’t been getting much money from me.
But I’d like to talk to you about The Heat, which opened nationwide last weekend. 
I’m not a buddy-cop movie aficionado; in fact, I could count the number of films in that genre that I’ve seen on about a half of a hand, tops. But The Heat? I wanted to see it. So you got some of my money.
Judging from the crowded theater at a weekday afternoon showing–including a trio of dude-bros in front of me–and the fact that the film came in second at the box office, you got some of lots of people’s money.

The Heat promotional still.

There’s money in this for you. What’s “this”? This is producing and releasing blockbuster films with female leads. 
I know, I know. You’ve been hesitant to do so. Men’s stories have long been the standard-bearer of literature and film. Men’s stories are universal, women’s stories are for women. In the middle of June, 90 percent of feature films were about men or groups of men, and Man of Steel had about six times the number of showings as all of the films about women combined. 
Mullins (McCarthy) and Ashburn (Bullock) work together.
Stories about (white) men have been easy for you for a long time. Just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s good or right–or even the most financially sound.
When Bridesmaids (directed by Paul Feig, who directed The Heat) was released, it passed up Knocked Up as Judd Apatow’s highest-grossing film. Pitch Perfect made almost $100 million worldwide. 
Is this just our petite lady-ration? One big female-fronted blockbuster per year? 
Please sir, I want some more.
The Heat delivers just the kind of big escapism that one would expect from a summer blockbuster. Melissa McCarthy is absolutely amazing. She is a national treasure. And while the film is fairly formulaic, the punch lines are not. 
Ashburn and Mullins also drink together.
Officer Mullins (McCarthy) roughs up and arrests a man soliciting a prostitute. He feels her full wrath because he tries to excuse his actions by saying his wife just had a baby and everything downstairs was messy. There is not one punch line about Mullins’s weight. More than one man comes to her in desperation because she’s not called them back. While Ashburn (Sandra Bullock) walks the stereotype line (she’s an “unlikable” but highly successful single woman), she’s a good agent, and she and Mullins complement one another.
Spanx (Ashburn’s, not Mullins’s), vaginas, areolas … the premise of the film may be masculine, but women weren’t just inserted into men’s roles. This female-centric comedy worked. Women are funny.
And I’ll tell you what–those dude-bros in front of me were laughing hard when Mullins was criticizing Ashburn’s Spanx (because her “furnace” couldn’t “air out” in them). 
Mullins is shocked by the concept of Spanx.
Women are funny. Female writers are funny (Parks and Recreation‘s Katie Dippold wrote The Heat). Female performers are funny. Jokes about strictly female experiences are funny–for everybody.

If women can laugh at men’s jokes–which doesn’t seem to be a problem–then men can laugh at women’s jokes. It’s pretty simple. The Heat shows us that. Cops, whiskey, drug rings, and a refrigerator full of guns and ammo may feel masculine, but Ashburn and Mullins show that women can wield it all.

The Heat made me laugh and cry.

I want more. I want theaters to be packed with genre films with women at the helm–in character, with the writing credits, as directors. The Heat 2 is already in the works, but there is so much opportunity for women in blockbusters. And I want dude-bros going to those movies in droves. I bet they will, too.

Now you need to believe it.

These female-led blockbusters are always “surprise,” hits, but how many times can you be surprised by the success of movies with female protagonists? At some point, you need to realize that people like this.

If you take up my plea and fund more female-centric films, I must warn you: some of them might not be awesome. Some may be mediocre, or bad. Just like movies with male leads. When Freddie Got Fingered bombed, the takeaway wasn’t that men can’t carry comedies. Remember that.

When the film ended, I stopped the trio of teenage boys and asked them if they liked the movie. It was unanimous: yes. I asked if they ever thought about not seeing it because the main characters were women. It was unanimous: no. (One exclaimed, “Not once.”)

If you don’t believe me and my dude-bros, here’s some recommended reading: NPR, Jezebel, Women and Hollywood, and Vulture all give the film favorable to glowing reviews.
One more thing: we need to talk about marketing. These movie posters are an atrocity. Mullins’s weight wasn’t an issue on-screen, but clearly your marketing departments felt the need to drastically change her.

Make them stop that.

No.

Sincerely,


Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

Overcoming Doubts: Jillian Corsie on Her First Feature Film, ‘Trichster,’ and its All-Female Creative Team

Filmmaker Jillian Corsie
It all started with a simple idea. I wanted to make a short documentary about Trichotillomania, the impulse control disorder that causes people to pull out their hair, because I wanted to better understand what once ailed a childhood friend. It would also give me a chance to edit my own piece of work. I had a camera and a microphone so I figured I would just go out and shoot some people and throw something together. Fast forward a year and a half and I’m just wrapping up shooting Trichster, a feature documentary that has blown up and gotten immeasurable support from across the globe with hundreds of donations, social media followers, and emails from people asking to help. That can be a lot to take in.
I never thought I would be able to direct a feature-length film, nor did I think I would have so many amazing people working along side of me who were just as passionate about the film as I am. I think I doubted myself in part because of my age and experience, and in part because of my gender.
When I started working on Trichster, I rallied a couple of my producer friends who then introduced me to two cinematographers. The five of us are all women. When we started building our website and writing grants, I did everything I could to hide the fact that we were an all-female team. I already had a male graphics guru and audio mixer who had agreed to help, and I included their names on grant applications and on our website. I wanted credibility, and to me having an all-female team gave me none. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in my team, it was that I was afraid that other people wouldn’t. Looking back…that’s really sad. Where did this notion come from? Women in the film industry are almost always surrounded by men. I recently read that in 2011, women comprised only 18% of the creative roles in the top 250 highest-grossing domestic films. No wonder I thought we needed men on our team to be taken seriously!
Then I met Emily Best, the founder of Seed&Spark, who told me that we should be marketing ourselves as an all-woman team. It makes us different and interesting, and there are so many wonderful programs available to female filmmakers. Taking her advice, we dropped the act and started presenting ourselves as the tight-knit female team that we are. We started getting recognition for being an all-female creative team, and I quickly developed a new-found confidence that I had lacked before. This confidence is what made us able to fly an important cast member from London to New York to attend the National Trichotillomania Conference and hire fifteen crew members for a weekend shoot. It’s what’s allowed us to connect with people all over the world about a topic that very few understand. Because of the strength of our team, we’re giving people hope by showing them they’re not alone in their struggles and that there are people who care working to make a difference. 
We’ve raised over $25,000 via crowdfunding sites and travelled across the country to shoot over 200 hours of footage all while working full-time jobs. Our trailer has 14,000 views online and counting. We’ve amassed thousands of supporters in over 15 countries. And this was all done during nights and weekends. It’s not easy to convince someone that you kick ass when you don’t believe it yourself. But once you do, and you’re passionate about something, that confidence and zeal is contagious. Now–onto cutting Trichster from 200 hours down to an hour and a half! We look forward to the next step of our journey.
Learn more about our project!
Jillian Corsie is a filmmaker who currently works on the editorial staff at Fluid Editorial. Having worked in post-production for the better part of four years, Jillian is no stranger to the ever-changing world of filmmaking. She has been working on her latest creative venture, Trichster, since late 2011 and is passionate about making work that explores relevant social issues and causes people to think critically about that which makes them uncomfortable. 

The Strong Yet Traditional Women of ‘World War Z’

World War Z movie poster

Written by Amanda Rodriguez
Spoiler Alert

As someone who read and enjoyed Max Brooks’ novel World War Z, I confess that I was doubtful that the film version (also entitled World War Z) could do the complex, multiple perspective, international, decade-long “oral history” justice. Turns out, I wasn’t wrong. The sociopolitical commentary alone, not to mention the strong critique of U.S isolationism, was completely lost in the film version. Though more convenient from a narrative perspective, the film loses much of the novel’s integrity with its choice to only follow the Lane family while making American Gerry Lane (played by Brad Pitt) the sole hero of the tale. The richness of the multiple nationalities, generations, genders, educational backgrounds, etc of the perspectives represented in the novel is totally lost. The comic website The Oatmeal gives us the best film/novel comparison to date:

The Oatmeal film/novel comparison hits the old nail on the head.

The prominent female characters in World War Z, while notably few, are intriguing, as they’re simultaneously strong and compelling, but ultimately traditional in their depiction. First, we meet Karin Lane, hero Gerry Lane’s wife, portrayed by the talented Mireille Enos (best known for her leading role on the acclaimed series The Killing).

Enos’ character Karin shields her daughter as she anxiously awaits her husband’s return along with an inevitable zombie onslaught.

*(Check out fellow Bitch Flicks writer Megan Kearn’s post on Enos’ masterful performance on the series The Killing: Why Steely Homicide Detective Sarah Linden is so Refreshing)*

Prior to New York’s zombie infestation, we meet the Lanes in all their domestic bliss. We find stay-at-home dad Gerry making pancakes, presumably designating Karin as the sole breadwinner. Later we learn that this is because his job with the United Nations was so über important and he was super über valuable but walked away from it to be with his family. This undermines the unconventionality of the couple’s marital arrangement because the “man called out of retirement for one last world-saving job” is a tired, overplayed Hollywood trope.

However, when chaos breaks loose in the city, Karin is remarkably calm and self-possessed. She is effective in a crisis, quick-thinking, solution-oriented, and follows direction well. Karin never belts out the quintessential zombie flick chick-scream despite the fact that her entire world is devolving into terrifying, incomprehensible mayhem. It’s a pleasure to see such a strong leading lady mastering her emotions, taking action, and protecting others.

On the other hand (a hand that is unfortunately much bigger than its counterpart), Karin is much in need of Gerry’s protection. After escaping the zombie outbreak in the heart of the city, Gerry and Karin along with their kids join a civilian looting of a grocery store where Karin is attacked by two men who attempt to rape her. We could’ve lived without this attempted rape, as it does nothing to complicate the plot since there are few, if any, other instances of commentary on post-apocalyptic human-on-human violence. No, this is an excuse for Gerry to save his wife and expose her as a symbol of female vulnerability that must be protected in the face of this great crisis.

It’s amazing how many scenes show the two useless daughters sleeping…still better than the ones where they’re awake and jeopardizing everyone’s safety.

This symbolism builds as Gerry leaves behind Karin and their two irritating daughters (who cause nothing but problems) on a secure military ship while he goes off to save the world. He barters his family’s safety for his services. We watch the couple each programing their satellite phones through which they communicate while Gerry is on his mission; Karin types “GERRY,” while Gerry types “HOME.” Throughout history and especially war narratives, women, particularly wives, have been symbols for home. Men typically pine for and seek to protect these women because of the cultural continuity they embody. Women shelter and raise children, instilling in them their culture’s values while ordering the home and keeping/creating peace. Though his country and world’s infrastructure has collapsed along with any semblance of civilization as he’s known it, Gerry seeks to protect HOME as embodied by his vulnerable wife and irritating daughters. Karin houses inside her this symbol of “home” replete with its comforting memories and the subtextual notion that through her and her daughters the human race can continue via their reproductive capacities as well as the cultural legacy they can advance.

The other noteworthy primary female character is Segen, a young soldier in the Israeli military charged with protecting Gerry and spiriting him to his plane to escape as zombies infiltrate and destroy Jerusalem, the last stronghold of civilization. (I’m not even going to touch the religious implications of that one.)

Segen, charged with Gerry’s safety, winds her way through the labyrinthine city.

Make no mistake, Segen (depicted by Daniella Kertesz), is a hardcore badass. She’s a brave soldier who does not succumb to the feverish panic that overtakes her home during the zombie attack. She skillfully wields a big-ass gun and does her duty to protect Gerry and guide him to safety. Unfortunately, Gerry ends up saving her (of course because this guy has got to save everyone, especially if there’s a vagina involved). When Segen is bitten, Gerry cuts off her hand at the wrist, saving her life. She (understandably) begins screaming uncontrollably, and he drags her onto the last plane escaping the city where he dresses her wound. To her credit, Segen never loses consciousness and bears it all without painkillers.

Gerry protects and cares for the young female soldier: the paternalistic attitude of the film on full display

Later, she is instrumental in Gerry’s plans to thwart the spread of the virus at a research outpost of the World Health Organization, using her military skills in stealth and weaponry, but we know nothing about her. We only have the name “Segen,” with no idea if it’s her first/last name or a nickname. Though she’s a major character who survives to the end, we learn nothing of her background, who she’s lost, or even how she feels about her military conscription. I confess; I find her military conscription to be her most interesting quality. Women are required to serve in the Israeli military for at least two years, and Segen seems to embrace her role naturally, her fearlessness and aggressiveness serving her well at the end of the world. It made me curious whether or not she’d chosen to stay enlisted beyond her two years. Had she chosen the life of a career military officer? What were her hopes and dreams before the world went to shit? Apparently, it’s not important for her to be three-dimensional despite the fact that we learn much more intimate details about much more minor characters…who happen to be male. 

Drawing of Segen as she scours a W.H.O facility for deadly diseases while dodging zombies.

Though she, like the young Tomas, only lives because Gerry saved her, Segen is not enfolded into the Lane family at the film’s close. The Lanes adopt Tomas because he’s lost everything, and they feel responsible for him. Though the same is true of Gerry’s attitude toward Segen, she is not invited to join the extended post-apocalyptic family with ties that are more than blood. Perhaps it’s because the filmmakers can’t imagine Karin not being jealous of the fierce, beautiful young woman whom Gerry’s taken under his wing. Perhaps they thought it too non-traditional to have two women of sexual maturity living together because of potentially polyamorous implications. Instead, Segen just disappears. We don’t know where she goes after the film has ended much like we don’t know where she came from before the the movie began. 

Though both Karin and Segen are strong, admirable women, we didn’t get to know them outside their relationship to Gerry. The film chose not to develop them as individuals separate from Gerry because they’re both designed to reflect back upon him, his intelligence, perseverance, and morality. Gerry is a messianic figure, and who are the Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene without the narrative of Christ? They, like our two World War Z female characters, are props on our hero’s journey, illustrating more about him and his qualities than exuding any sort of well-rounded individuality. Though I’m surprised and pleased that I liked the women of World War Z (not the female children, though; them I abhorred), the film left me wishing it had bothered to develop its badass female characters.

The Flattening of Celine: How ‘Before Midnight’ Reduces a Feminist Icon

This is a guest post by Molly McCaffrey.
Before Midnight movie poster

There are numerous reasons why Before Midnight—the third film in the Richard Linklater Before Sunrise/Before Sunset trilogy—is an important film.
Jesse and Celine in Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight

It’s an important film first and foremost because it’s a film about grown-ups doing grown-up things. The main characters—Celine (played by Julie Delpy) and Jesse (played by Ethan Hawke)—are in their forties raising two kids together, so the film revolves around the kind of issues such people face: how to be good parents, how to balance the needs of their careers, how to keep the spark alive in their relationship, how to deal with the aging process, etc.
Celine, Jesse, and daughters in the car

Thankfully the film doesn’t ever give into the gross-out humor that seems to almost be a requirement now for other movies about middle-age—This Is 40, Funny People, and Bridesmaids come to mind (as if moviegoers won’t see a movie that doesn’t have at least one fart joke or an explosion).
Movie poster for This Is 40

Before Midnight—like its predecessors—is also important because of its focus on character development, writing, and acting. This is because, thankfully, the major players and co-writers—Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke—believe in creating art that is both realistic and thoughtful. It seems obvious that the three of them want viewers to walk out of the theater asking relevant philosophical questions about both themselves and the characters, a goal which on its own makes these films admirable.
Jesse and Celine holding hands

Further demonstrating its importance is the fact that, unlike almost every other movie made today, the characters in this film look real. Sure, when the first film in the trilogy—Before Sunrise—came out, these actors had movie star faces and bodies:
Jesse and Celine in Before Sunrise

But by now they look like regular people:
Jesse and Celine in Before Midnight

Celine has fleshy arms, big hips, thick thighs, and a bit of a stomach while Jesse’s age shows in his drawn face, his lined forehead, and the countless wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Neither of these actors is likely to be cast in the part of the leading woman or man in a Hollywood film, but it’s their so-called flaws that make them so interesting and, in the case of Celine, so beautiful and such an inspiration. If more actresses looked like Celine, then maybe American women would finally learn to give up the notion that they must be thin to be attractive.
Jesse and Celine in Before Midnight

But for all of its accomplishments, there is a major problem at the heart of Before Midnight, and that problem is that Celine’s character is no longer believable or even entirely empathetic. This is in contrast to Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, where both Celine and Jesse are depicted as the most likeable and well-rounded liberals on the planet.
Celine and Jesse

In all three of the films, Celine’s feminism is a central focus of the story: she talks to Jesse about her desire to have her own life, her own ideas, and to not be defined by a man. And in Before Sunset and Before Sunrise, she expresses a desire to fall in love and share her life with a man in a committed relationship. In that way, Celine is a wonderful depiction of a modern heterosexual feminist, something we don’t see often enough on the big (or little) screen.
Celine and Jesse arguing in the car

But in Before Midnight, Celine’s feminism pushes her to behave in ways we’ve not seen her do before—she seems much more hostile and much less empathetic toward Jesse even though he has supported her values and her career throughout their nine-year relationship.
Celine and daughters

This is especially surprising given that in the first two films, Celine and Jesse agree about gender roles and feminist issues. But in Before Midnight they fight about it from start to finish—even though Jesse agrees with all of Celine’s ideals, making Celine’s depiction unrealistic and troubling.
This problem manifests itself in the following ways: *SPOILERS AHEAD*
1) Celine demonstrates no empathy for Jesse when he expresses regret after they drop off his son at the airport at the end of the summer so he can return home to his mother in the U.S.
Later Celine claims that Jesse is always moody after his son leaves, so it’s surprising that she isn’t more empathetic in this situation. Isn’t that what people do in a healthy relationship? Anticipate each other’s struggles and help them through it? This is just the first example of the ways that Celine acts as if they are in an unhealthy or unhappy relationship even though there are no other signs that they are.
2) Instead of being empathetic in that moment, Celine picks a fight with Jesse, insisting that he wants her to give up her career and move to the States even though he doesn’t ever say that he does.
It would have been so much more interesting for them to have a real discussion about this issue since that’s what healthy couples usually do in these types of impossible situations—acknowledge the difficulty of it, weigh the pros and cons over a period of time, and then make a decision. But Celine seems to see Jesse as incapable of compromising or working with her even though he has evidently done so in the past.
3) She won’t consider moving to the U.S., so Jesse can live near his son even though he moved to France so she could be near her mother when giving birth to their twin daughters.
Not only won’t she move, she doesn’t even want to talk about moving. Her resistance to merely discussing the idea seems strange simply because he has moved for her in the past, and again a healthy relationship between two intelligent adults often requires both of them to put the other’s career first at different times.
4) Celine brings up their problems in front of others at dinner.
There’s not much to say about this except that it’s such an immature move that it doesn’t fit at all with what we already know about Celine, a successful, intelligent, confident woman.
5) She offers little support when Jesse’s grandmother dies.
Not only does she change the subject pretty quickly, but she also declines to go to the funeral when he asks her to do so.
6) Celine implies Jesse was only drawn to her for superficial reasons.
At one point Celine asks Jesse if he would still want her to spend the day with him if he saw her on a train today. It’s a ridiculous question considering how beautiful and intelligent Celine is, especially given that Jesse hasn’t aged as well as she has, a fact acknowledged by Jesse when he says, “The real question is would you want to get off the train with me.” As a result, her question seems to imply that he—and all men by extension—are only attracted to young women and could not possibly find a forty-year-old woman attractive, an idea that may be believable in Hollywood but doesn’t hold water in the world Linklater has created for Celine and Jesse.
7) She resents his career and does so while simultaneously asking him to respect hers.
This resentment is demonstrated when she complains about their trip to Greece to spend time with another author, when she is reluctant to autograph Jesse’s books for a fan in their hotel (even though the books are about her), and when she insists he is never allowed to write about her again. It’s hard to believe that a true feminist—like the Celine we have come to know and love in the earlier films—would indulge in this kind of hypocritical behavior.
8) She holds Jesse responsible for all of her problems with men and the patriarchal society we live in.
She does this even though he’s proven he’s not that kind of guy and understands she’s not the kind of woman who would put up with that kind of man, explaining, “You could never be submissive to anybody.”
9) Finally, this problem comes to an ugly head when Celine tells Jesse—at the height of their argument about their future—that she doesn’t think she loves him anymore and then walks out on him.
It’s a cruel thing to say even if she does mean it, but the fact that Jesse doesn’t take it seriously and they make up leads the viewer to believe that she doesn’t even mean it and has possibly even said—or insinuated it—before. In that sense, it feels like she is playing a game with him, a dangerous childish game that is the adult equivalent of sticking your tongue out at someone. It’s a moment when Celine shows no respect for Jesse’s feelings, and viewers are left to wonder how she can expect him to respect her if she doesn’t do the same for him.
******
Because other aspects of this film—including acting and characterization—are so strong, I can only conclude that these problems with Celine are the result of bad writing. It’s certainly true that the writing in Before Midnight lacks the subtlety and complexity evident in the first two films.
Good writing demands well-rounded characters, but Celine seems more flat and one-dimensional in this film than she ever has before. Jesse’s flaws are rather ordinary—he doesn’t like to clean the house, and he has stubbornly held onto his slacker facial hair. But Celine’s flaws are the opposite of ordinary—rather than being average, they are so extreme in the third film that they don’t even seem believable given what else we know about her character. If she’s an educated, intelligent, confident, and strong woman, why doesn’t she trust the man who loves these things about her?
Though they haven’t done it before, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke fall back on stereotypical ideas about what it means to be a feminist when writing Celine’s dialogue for this film. They make her seem harsh and narrow-minded—even irrational at times—rather than thoughtful and open-minded. In this way, the film harkens back to another well-known “talky” film about a heterosexual couple discussing important issues, 1978’s Same Time, Next Year.
Movie poster for Same Time, Next Year

Unfortunately it feels like Before Midnight also co-opted that film’s take on intelligent couples by merely showing them in constant disagreement. It’s a depiction that feels outdated given what we know by now about communication in healthy, equitable relationships.
This seems to be an honest mistake, but it’s a disappointing one nonetheless, especially since it’s so hard to find movies about strong feminists and because the two previous films sidestepped these landmines so well by making Celine both willful and caring.
In fact, by depicting strong, intelligent women as incapable of compromise and empathy, Before Midnight reinforces all of the ugly stereotypes about feminists and sends the message that you can’t be a good feminist if you stay home with the kids or sew curtains or move for your spouse. When in reality, feminists—female and male alike—can do all of the above since feminism isn’t about acting a certain way but rather about embracing equality.
This misrepresentation is alluded to when Celine says to Jesse, “I feel close to you… But sometimes, I don’t know? I feel like you’re breathing helium and I’m breathing oxygen.”
It’s this comment that best sums up the problems with the film because it implies that men and women are reduced simply to their differences and that they are, in fact, so different that they cannot possibly relate, agree, compromise, or even get along past a certain point in their relationship. It’s a rehashing of the old men-are-from-Mars-women-are-from-Venus idea that is anti-feminist and unbelievable as well as being one that this viewer found very difficult to relate to.

Molly McCaffrey is the author of the short story collection How to Survive Graduate School & Other Disasters, the co-editor of Commutability: Stories about the Journey from Here to There, and the founder of I Will Not Diet, a blog devoted to healthy living and body acceptance. She received her Ph.D. from the University of Cincinnati and has worked with Academy Award winner Barbara Kopple and World War Z author, Max Brooks. Currently she teaches at Western Kentucky University and designs books for Steel Toe Books. She has just finished work on her first memoir, You Belong to Us, which tells the story of McCaffrey meeting her biological family.

Call for Writers: Representations of Women with Disabilities in Film and TV

It’s rare to see people with disabilities onscreen. On top of that, films and television shows love to tell the stories of heterosexual white men, so it only makes sense that the most prominent characters with disabilities are heterosexual and white. We could create a long list of those representations in film and TV, but we want to focus on representations of women with disabilities for this theme week. We won’t define “disability” for this; we’re looking for your takes on these films, whether it’s focusing on a woman with Alzheimer’s disease, a woman with a physical or developmental disability, or a woman with mental health problems. It’s fine to write scathing reviews, but we hope to find some wonderful representations out there, too. But, as Michael P. Murphy writes:
In movies, on TV or in novels, physically disabled characters are rarely the protagonists. Rather, the disability is the catalyst which propels the main character–generally a photogenic, able-bodied person–to act/react/grow/save/emote/empathize. The token disabled person serves one dramatic purpose: moral impetus for the hero. 

This list of disability tropes from TVtropes.org is also a helpful resource. 
To submit, please e-mail us a brief proposal at btchflcks[@]gmail[dot]com with the subject line “submission.” We accept both original pieces and cross posts, and we respond to queries within a few days.

We like most of our pieces to be between 1,000-2,000 words, preferably with some links and images. Please send your piece in the text of an e-mail, including links to all images, and include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece. The deadline to receive finished pieces is July 19th at midnight.
Here is a list of some films and TV shows that would fit in with this theme week, but it isn’t exhaustive. Please propose your own ideas, too!

Away from Her
Dancer in the Dark
Babel
Homeland
Silver Linings Playbook
The Miracle Worker
Sybil
Girl, Interrupted
Curb Your Enthusiasm
The Other Sister
The Secret Life of Bees
The Piano
Benny & Joon
Push Girls
Love and Other Drugs
Phoebe in Wonderland
Million Dollar Baby
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
United States of Tara
Frida
Orphan
My Sister’s Keeper
An Affair to Remember
Glee
Pauline & Paulette
Blue Sky
Children of a Lesser God
Frances
Grey’s Anatomy
The Horse Whisperer
Iris
Molly
‘Night Mother
Girls
Return to Me
Steel Magnolias
The Three Faces of Eve
The Guild
Wait Until Dark
Passion Fish
Soul Surfer
My Gimpy Life

The Ten Most-Read Posts from May 2013

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

“Is Pepper Potts No Longer the ‘Damsel in Distress’ in Iron Man 3?” by Megan Kearns

“Does Uhura’s Empowerment Negate Sexism in Star Trek Into Darkness?” by Megan Kearns

“Star Trek Into Darkness: Where Are the Women?” by Amanda Rodriguez

“Stoker and the Feminist Female Serial Killer” by Amanda Rodriguez

“The Occasional Purposeful Nudity on Game of Thrones“ by Lady T

“Let’s Re-Brand ‘Disney Princesses’ as ‘Disney Heroines'” by Robin Hitchcock

“Girl Rising: What Can We Do to Help Girls? Ask Liam Neeson.” by Colleen Lutz Clemens

“Oblivious Hollywood and Its New Movie Oblivion“ by Rachel Redfern

“Choose Your Own Sexist Adventure: Victim Blaming, Domestic Violence, and the Glorification of the Nice Guy™in Mud“ by Stephanie Rogers

“Sex and the City 2: Hardcore Orientalism in the Desert of Abu Dhabi” by Emily Contois

Wedding Week: ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’: 20 Years Later And Still So Far To Go

Four Weddings and a Funeral movie poster
Written by Myrna Waldron.

I was 7 years old the first time I watched this film. My family is ethnically British, and I was raised on British-style comedy like Monty Python. My parents shrugged off the R rating–sex and swear words, what’s the big deal? Admittedly, there are few films I’ve seen that have quite as many f-bombs…so maybe we can blame this one for my terrible pottymouth. But there is something to be said for the “It’ll go right over their heads!” argument. I knew Charles and Carrie were having sex. I knew what the f-word meant. But what I didn’t realize until I was quite a bit older…was that two members of the main cast were a gay couple. And their relationship was the strongest one in the entire film.

Although there are no people of colour in the cast (disappointing, but not surprising for a British film seeing as 90% of the population is white), Four Weddings & A Funeral is very progressive for a romantic comedy. Romantic comedies have a sordid reputation as the bastions of white heteronormativity, with only gorgeous people allowed to be seen on film. Lack of racial minorities aside (and don’t think I’m dismissing it; the all-white cast is an issue) we have LGBT representation in Matthew and Gareth, representation of people with disabilities in David (who is deaf-mute and played by a deaf actor), and Gareth is also a portly gentleman with a fuzzy greying beard–the film remembers old and fat people exist!

The traditional romantic comedy relationship is flipped, also. Stereotypically, the frazzled beautiful white woman just can’t find a man! And she’s got contrived flaws, and she has to chase the men in her life, etc. In Four Weddings’ case, it’s Hugh Grant’s character Charles who is lovelorn. He is surrounded by celebrations of heteronormativity–he has to attend weddings practically every weekend. And he feels that there is something wrong with him for not wanting to get married like almost everyone else does, that maybe he’s a commitmentphobe. He doesn’t realize until the end of the film that it’s not a lifelong commitment he’s avoiding, it’s the institution of marriage and the wedding hoopla that he hates. Upon meeting Carrie, he almost instantly realizes she’s the girl for him. Carrie is an American who worked for Vogue, and her approach to relationships is distinctly American and meant to contrast with the rather reserved British approach. Refreshingly, she’s got a very healthy sex life (in one memorable scene, she recounts all 33 of her lovers) and Charles does not judge her at all for it (though he’s somewhat embarrassed his own “number” is much smaller). Neither does the film condemn her from sleeping with Charles again while engaged to another man. It’s just a sign that she’s marrying the wrong man for her.

People tend to make fun of Hugh Grant’s stuttering style of delivering his lines, but I find it adds to his character and makes the dialogue more realistic. Charles seems to be known not only for being perpetually tardy but for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Who hasn’t stuttered and verbally fumbled while trying to talk to a person you’re strongly attracted to? Both Charles and Carrie have realistic flaws but are still sympathetic protagonists. Carrie’s fatal flaw is her indecisiveness when it comes to relationships. It perhaps factors into why she’s had so many lovers, but her flaw is NOT that she’s had a lot of lovers. That’s a progressive and feminist way to approach relationships and has a touch of sex positivity as well.

Speaking of progressiveness, let’s turn back to the minority characters in the main cast. Other than Gareth & Matthew’s relationship, I find the story of David and Serena’s relationship one of the most touching. Serena spots David at one wedding and is instantly attracted to him. She asks Matthew to tell her about him, admitting she thinks he’s “a bit of a dish.” (Matthew agrees, one of many signals that he’s gay.) You can tell that it’s true love because she learns sign language just so she can communicate with him. During the fourth wedding when David gives Charles an “out” from marrying Henrietta, a subtle indicator of the strength of their relationship is that she is able to follow along with David’s signing and reacts to it accordingly. Seeing deaf-mute characters (or even disabled characters in general) is rare enough in a movie, let alone watching a love story for one of them.

The main cast of Four Weddings and a Funeral

When it comes to Gareth & Matthew, even the main characters admit that their relationship was stronger and had a deeper commitment than anyone else’s. After Gareth’s funeral, Charles says to Tom that, in retrospect, Gareth & Matthew were married all along. And oh god, how that pained me. I don’t really know how I didn’t realize that they were romantically involved until I grew up, but that might just be because no one explicitly says, “Gareth and Matthew are in a relationship.” It’s all implied–strongly implied, I’ll grant you, but never explicitly stated.

Twenty years later, LGBTQ couples are able to enter civil partnerships in England…but they’re not allowed to call it marriage (yet?). These two men, who clearly loved each other completely, had to attend wedding after wedding but could never celebrate their love for each other legally. Instead of a wedding, they’re separated by death. Gareth appeared to be a hard-living man–poor diet, smoking, drinking, overly exuberant dancing, and clearly in late middle age. But it seems to add a further twist to the knife that their love is denied in two separate ways. It is at least uplifting that in the sequence of photographs at the end of the film, we see that Matthew has found love again, and it even looks like they’re holding a commitment ceremony.

As a good friend of mine has pointed out, a lot of people (mostly straight allies) seem to think the SCOTUS’ striking down of Prop. 8 and DOMA is not only a major celebration, but the be-all and end-all of queer rights. I mean, it’s good that legal discrimination against same-sex couples has been struck down, but it doesn’t mean that every state is suddenly going to legalize same-sex marriage, nor does it do anything to solve other LGBTQ issues, such as hate crimes. It’s also not exactly thrilling that DOMA was written into law by a supposedly liberal politician in the first place. (Bill Clinton, for those who don’t know.)

There’s still so much left to change. We still have so far to go. The situation of queer rights in the UK isn’t great–not only are they allowed only civil partnerships instead of marriage, the rights of trans* people, for example, are not only being ignored but outright trampled upon. A recent judgement on a “sex-by-deception” case cited gender as a legitimate reason for pressing charges, but age, marital status, wealth or HIV status are not. UK Law also allows a spouse to annul their marriage if their partner possesses a Gender Recognition Certificate and doesn’t tell them beforehand. Comparatively, other people do not have to disclose other parts of their history (criminal status, previous marriages, etc) the way that trans* people are legally forced to. And cis “LGB” individuals seem to be willing to throw the “T” under a bus, just so they can climb up the ladder a little higher. I’m hopefully preaching to the choir when I say this, but that’s BULLSHIT. I’m proud of how comparatively progressive my native Canada is in comparison, but we still have a very long way to go in terms of trans* rights.

Twenty years after Four Weddings and a Funeral, it strikes me that very little has changed. If this film were made today, Gareth and Matthew could enter into a formal civil partnership, but regardless, Charles may not have realized just how deep and committed their relationship had been all along. It’s still very bitter and chilling that it was the committed gay couple that was separated by death. The real theme of this film isn’t weddings and marriage, it’s commitment. Twenty years later, there’s still so little representation of disabled people in films. I honestly can’t think of another film I’ve seen with a deaf-mute character. There should have been more racial minorities in the cast, even in minor roles, instead of just one 5-second shot of a black extra at the funeral. And as comparatively progressive as this film is, all it does is make me think how ridiculous American films look. A film made in a country with a fraction of the US population is more representative of minorities than most films made in a country with 316 million goddamn people. I can’t help thinking that maybe romantic comedies would not nearly have as bad a reputation as they do if they branched out even a little bit and stopped being frivolous celebrations of solely cis white able-bodied heteronormativity.

I also can’t help thinking that although we’ve come so far…we still have so very far to go.

P.S. I was unable to make animated gifs this time around as my only copy of the film is in Blu-Ray, and my laptop can’t read it.

Myrna Waldron is a feminist writer/blogger with a particular emphasis on all things nerdy. She lives in Toronto and has studied English and Film at York University. Myrna has a particular interest in the animation medium, having written extensively on American, Canadian and Japanese animation. She also has a passion for Sci-Fi & Fantasy literature, pop culture literature such as cartoons/comics, and the gaming subculture. She maintains a personal collection of blog posts, rants, essays and musings at The Soapboxing Geek, and tweets with reckless pottymouthed abandon at @SoapboxingGeek.

Wedding Week: "Jumping The Broom" Addresses Racial Hangups While Marrying Ancestral Tradition

Jumping the Broom poster.
Uh oh!
Sabrina Watson has done it again!
“I promise you, God, if you get me out of this situation, I’ll only share my cookies with the man I marry,” she exclaims subconsciously.
Jumping the Broom is Arlene Gibbs first screenwriting credit.
Jumping The Broom, co-written by two women — Arlene Gibbs and Elizabeth Hunter (Beauty Shop and Abducted: The Carlina White Story), beats up tired stereotypes, plays religious poker, and opens up a can of scandalous worms at a wedding for two successful African American lovebirds who’ve only known each other for six months- Sabrina Watson and Jason Taylor.
Exciting, smart, and worldly, Sabrina is a formerly licentious woman seeking to change her approach in regards to relationships and calls on the Lord Almighty for aide; promising to stop fooling around with unworthy men. Salvation arrives in the form of Jason. After she accidentally hits him with her car, she apologizes profusely and makes it up to him by introducing refined, cultured sides of life- theaters, opera, and art galleries all while vowing celibacy. He certainly doesn’t mind waiting for the latter and enjoys the pain free newness she brings to his life.
By month five, Sabrina has received an opportunity of a lifetime — a promotion in China. Jason doesn’t appear thrilled; saying that he can’t be in a long distance relationship. This breaks Sabrina’s heart in an awkward scene. She gives him back gifted red rose, stares sideways at him, teary eyed, looking for validation and a singer’s serenade grows louder as quiet tension builds between the couple.
Jason (Laz Alonso) springs on the ultimate surprise for Sabrina (Paula Patton).
But alas, Jason proposes, wants to marry immediately, and move with Sabrina to China! A man willing to change lifestyle habits, possibly career, and fly around the world for a woman? Yes!
Opening credits roll with black and white montage celebrating happily wedded blissful couples still carrying on a tradition used in weddings today.
Jumping the Broom focuses on two strong customs — one being jumping the broom that has predated slavery, which Jason’s mother Pamela strongly supports, and saving sex for marriage. Sabrina and Jason obviously have strong physical desires for one another, but they’re willing to postpone physical intercourse and are continuing to know each other on various intimate levels- emotional primarily. This isn’t essentially common in most romantic films, especially an African American centric film.
Jumping the Broom co writer, Elizabeth Hunter.
Yes. The introduction reveals Sabrina to be a bit promiscuous, but she seems to always be regretful and ashamed by one night “cookie” stands. She commits to moralistic goals in ironclad obligation; having to even “fight” Jason off with a few kisses and eloquent French tongued whispers to temporarily dampen his arousing impatience.
The opinions that run amok between Sabrina’s and Jason’s prospective parties include many stereotypes in ideas of rushed marriage. Some believe that Jason has gotten Sabrina pregnant including Claudine, Sabrina’s overbearing mother. It brings about this peculiar lifelong notion that if both parents are unionized into marriage sanctity, the unborn child would be protected from the “sin” of being born on the wrong side of the blanket. The added plus is that the woman would be a wife and “saved” from “Baby’s Mama” label. Others, the ones who know that Sabrina and Jason haven’t slept together, believe that Jason is either cheating or being on the “down low.” This is also particularly disturbing. It’s incredibly mind-boggling that a man who can refrain from sex must be unfaithful or gay! When Jason confesses that he can hold out longer- a few weeks, but still, it just suggests that patience truly exists in the world. He was probably a monk in his past life.
Lauren (Tenisha Davis), Sabrina (Paula Patton), and Blythe (Meagan Good) have pre-wedding girl talk.
The filmmakers are validating these society extremes and addressing that Sabrina and Jason’s friends should not incite intrusive gossip without honest facts and have a lot to learn about real love and integrity.
However, “jumping the broom!” is one tradition that Sabrina and Jason are dead set against and this infuriates Anger Management attendee Pamela to a heated rage.
It’s the formalistic Capulets versus the Montagues reincarnated as angry spiritual working class black lady verses the high cultured, fluent French speaking mother who- gasps- has traced her roots to her family actually owning slaves and says this in a boast filled breath.
Shondra (Tasha Smith) and Pamela (Loretta Devine) at the post office discussing Jason’s wedding.
At first, aristocratic Claudine Watson looks to be a cold, frozen wave of upper crust vile, but is instead a misunderstood, determined, intelligent woman bottling emotionally layered scars underneath sarcastic exterior. She believes her husband, Greg is cheating on her, has a severely strained relationship with her sister, Geneva, and doesn’t take well to the “ghetto” presence Jason’s family brings to the eloquent Watson Estate on Martha’s Vineyard. However, the shocking fact that her infertility, an unbearably complex subject matter to address, is revealed in a gutturally delivered slap that is just as painful sounding as the back palmed hand that delivers it.
And Pamela Taylor hears all the soapy juiciness. Now there’s a reason she wasn’t invited to the brunch held a month prior to the wedding date. It wasn’t because she works as a loud, outspoken, and rude post office worker. She has apparently ruined every relationship Jason’s ever had. Upset that Jason doesn’t want to carry on the family tradition and that ignorance is definitely not bliss when the Watsons have an angry French tirade about her “backward”comments, Pamela nastily destroys Sabrina’s perfect upbringing in front of everyone. It’s kind of pathetic that she can be hurtful, cling to Bible like a shield, and believe her actions are just. This allows Jason to finally give her an ultimatum- she has to change (as in be a mother figure to him) or not be in his life.
Sabrina (Paula Patton) with the woman who raised her, Claudine (Angela Bassett).
After brutal climax, Geneva tells runaway bride Sabrina the bitter truth about her parentage- she’s the product of an affair Geneva had at age sixteen with a married man in France. With the hefty amount of French the Watsons kept speaking, it’s safe to say that Paris is definitely the new Las Vegas. Except well, what happened in Paris didn’t exactly stay there, but at least the infertile Claudine and Greg got to love Sabrina from the start. Geneva gave Sabrina to Claudine because she was married which comes back to stereotypes of children born out of wedlock. Two parents are not only better than one, but a much stronger unit, especially married and this message cannot be implanted enough. Geneva may have been from a rich family, but Claudine had the motherly instincts she didn’t have at the time and it’s been quite obvious that Geneva was making up for that.
Jason (Laz Alonso) and his mother, Pamela (Loretta Devine).
Although the Watsons are not seen reading Bibles as much as Pamela is, the holy presence is stressed so strongly that it binds these two families like an invisible cord.
Gibbs and Hunter’s story also shed light on contradictions that sadly still exist. Julie Bowen’s character Amy plays the white servant who mutters ignorant racial fodder- “why is she so light” when seeing Claudine’s sister, she impermissibly touches Shonda’s braids like she was at a petting zoo, and complains about the chef who sees Jason’s family as being “chicken folk.” Funnily enough, Jason’s immature and equally ignorant cousin, Malcolm says comments such as “you’re pretty for a dark skinned girl” (the ugliest and most hurtful insult to a colored woman) and has a white people hate complex, but winds up being the one to dance with Amy. Maybe both of their prejudices are supposed to cancel each other out?
Before committing fully to Jason once more, Sabrina understands her family and accepts the truth.
Differences become swept aside. Claudine’s marriage isn’t as heartless as originally appeared and Pamela sets forth to live in the present. Other ladies find unintentional romance post nuptials. Stylish, sophisticated, Blythe- the best friend/maid of honor, fell for a poetic, complimentary sampling chef while charming, free-spirited, Shonda- joyously soaking in the Vineyard getaway and fighting hard against a younger cougar worshiping college man finally succumbed to his lips. Even Geneva lets her guard down a bit and dances with Uncle Willie- a man of slithery pick up lines and unlikable wisdom.
Sabrina (Paula Patton) and Jason (Laz Alonso) are married and will have cookies later!
At the wedding, however, Sabrina and Jason may have started off with their own traditions, but the moment they jumped over the broom and smiled hard at Pamela, the couple gave an appreciative nod towards history and fulfilled the screenplay’s destiny.
Jumping the Broom may borderline on containing too many preachy sanctimonious moments, but it teaches spiritual lessons that symbolize the “something old” wedding gift. It doesn’t matter where a person comes from. Whether it’s from the ghetto or the suburbs, one must value themselves first and then create personal hierarchy of what matters most- partners, family, friends, and successes. For Sabrina, she just wanted to be in love and share her cookies with a good man worthy enough to marry.
And that she did.

Wedding Week: "You Were Dead Until Now": A Review of ‘Bride Wars’

Bride Wars movie poster
This is a guest post by Ece Okar.
This movie is a chick flick that plays on horrible female stereotypes, and I can easily say it’s one of the most sexist chick flicks ever produced. Usually when I think of these types of films, I think of a romantic comedy about a couple that slowly falls in love. There will be some problems of course, to keep the movie enticing, but in the end everyone lives happily ever after. Bride Wars takes two best friends that grew up together and turns them into feral enemies when they both have their wedding dates accidentally scheduled on the same day. Don’t get me wrong–I love chick flicks as much as the next person–but a majority of the time this movie just made me cringe. As I watched, I thought, “I hope that society doesn’t think we, as women, are this shallow and materialistic to rage out on our close friends like this.”
The movie’s opening scene is when Liv (Kate Hudson) and Emma (Anna Hathaway) are young kids pretending to get married. Emma plays the groom, the masculine role, and Liv plays the pretty, feminine bride. Emma asks when she can pretend to be the bride, and Liv replies she will always play the bride, and Emma should remember that. This first scene immediately exposes which character is stronger and which is weaker. As the movie progresses, there are more signs to show Liv’s strengths and Emma’s weaknesses. It is very evident when we first see them in their respective careers: Liv is in a board room discussing with many male lawyers that they need to take the aggressive approach and expose the other parties’ weakness and do whatever to win their case. And then we see Emma as a sweet middle-school teacher who gets walked all over by her co-workers. These scenes foreshadow how Liv and Emma do everything they can to take down a best friend that they’ve known for 20 years because, I mean, who wouldn’t fuck up a 20-year relationship because of one “important” day that society has ingrained in every little girl’s head.
Bride Wars movie poster (Anne Hathaway)

As the movie progresses both characters are molding into their respective roles–Liv as the tyrant and Emma as the doormat. One interesting point is that since their days of playing dress up they have switched roles. Emma became soft-hearted lady who thinks about others, and Liv went from being the pretty, dainty bride to an aggressive and persistent woman; these characteristics are unfortunately always described as masculine traits. The day comes when Liv finds a Tiffany blue box, and both friends freak out and celebrate. Liv tries to act happy, but it’s clearly evident that she is mad, and Emma–being the rug everyone walks on–says sorry…sorry for getting proposed to first. Liv, of course, being the aggressive and impatient character, immediately goes to her boyfriend’s work and confronts him about not proposing. Yay, now both best friends are engaged to their significant others! Planning goes well for a few scenes; they are actually happy and supportive of each other, but then the notorious wedding planner explains to them her secretary made a mistake and scheduled both their weddings on the same day. At this point they are still a team, let me remind you, but when they can’t get another bride (who happens to be one of the film’s writers…I wouldn’t put this movie on my resume) to change her date, things start to go awry.
Bride Wars movie poster (Kate Hudson)

Their first fight is at a party with mutual friends, and they have a big nasty spat. They start reminding each other of their fat and loser days as a way to compete with who is the better person. It’s detrimental that these are the ways that the two women fight with each other–exploiting their eating habits and social skills to make the other feel bad. Now they start sabotaging each other; Emma sends sweets to Liv to get her fat so she won’t fit into her dress (because as they say in the movie “Vera Wang doesn’t alter for you, you alter yourself for Vera Wang”), and they undermine tanning sessions and haircuts as they both prepare for their nuptials. All of these treacheries are skin deep, illustrating how horrible these two characters are. They put so much emphasis on how they should look, and no significance on how they should treat each other with respect, that it’s just killing any feminist ideal that has ever been thought before this movie. One of the worst lines in this movie, and there are plenty to choose from–but this one will make you grit your teeth from anger–is when the well-known wedding planner tells them, “A wedding marks the first day of the rest of your life; you have been dead until now.” This line probably sums up the movie as a whole, illustrating how ludicrous these women are acting by putting so much emphasis on the idea of being a bride rather than their more important accomplishments. I hope when adolescent girls finish watching this film, they know that who they are as a person is far more important than what society, significant others, and friends think.
Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson in Bride Wars

There aren’t many characters to like in this movie. Even the friends are annoying. Whenever they hear their friends are engaged, or that positive things are happening for their friends, they each deal with it in a negative way–reaching for pills, binge-eating ice cream, and even fighting with their new husband. Is this how we should celebrate our friends’ happiness? I certainly hope not. I understand humans are innately competitive, but these are much exaggerated examples. I mean, when an exciting thing happens for a friend, one should celebrate by their friend’s side–not seethe with jealousy behind their friend’s back.
There is one redeeming quality in this movie, and that is when Emma–who is a people pleaser for much of the movie–eventually starts to grow a backbone, while Liv–who is pushy and determined–softens up by the end. I’m hoping that the audience can take from these character shifts that women can be both determined and compassionate and that it is not disadvantageous to be both. I do love when Emma gets upset at her fiancé over how he thinks Liv is uncontrollable, indicating that she is not a person that can be dominated. If Emma had laughed it off, I probably would have turned this movie off immediately.
Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson in Bride Wars

This movie came out in 2009, and there were definitely many horrible reviews, especially about Anne Hathaway ruining her Oscar chances by being in this movie. There is a great quote from USA Today that says, “Bride Wars is about as funny as a cringingly awkward wedding toast. On top of a noticeable lack of humor, it’s absurdly sexist and mired in retro stereotypes. It might as well proclaim up front that all young woman care about is landing their MRS.” And Richard Roeper, a film critic for The Chicago Sun Times and Gene Siskel’s replacement, explains this movie very well: 
This is the wrong film for the wrong times. Sure, folks like to go to the cinema to escape their troubles. (Think of all the musicals and frothy comedies that were released during the Great Depression.) But in these dark economic times, watching two gorgeous, skinny, screeching young women battle over their insanely lavish weddings–no thanks. This stuff would have seem tired and sexist 40 years ago, let alone in 2009.

And on IMDB.com, customer reviewers are having discussions on how horribly this movie portrays women, so not everyone in our society believes women act this way in reality. I think this movie should come with a caution sign stating that all characters are exaggerated and should not be reenacted by young girls … so they don’t think afterward that where or when she has her wedding is more important than lifelong friendships.

Ece Okar currently lives in Asheville, NC. She is working part time at a local community college as well as Helpmate, a great nonprofit where domestic violence victims can turn to for counseling, education, and shelter. She is working toward going back to school to get her MSW so she can help people suffering with mental health and substance abuse issues.

Wedding Week: You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You: ‘Muriel’s Wedding’ and the Promise of Bridal Transformation

This is a guest post by Jessica Freeman-Slade. 
As much as they contain all the elements of great cinema—gorgeous photography, lighting, costumes—weddings are hard to capture on film because their machinations and motivations are so terribly complicated. Even a film like Father of the Bride can’t distance itself from the fact that weddings are logistical nightmares, fraught with overblown expenses and political negotiations. And what wedding film would be complete without a slightly bonkers bride—a woman whose obsession with bridedom belies a slightly unstable mind? Nowhere is this more the case than in Muriel’s Wedding, the 1994 Australian film by P.J. Hogan that made Toni Collette and Rachel Griffiths into major stars and prompted women everywhere to ask the question, “When I get married, who will I become?”
Muriel depressed at home

Muriel Heslop (Collette, in her first major role) has very little going for her as a wedding movie heroine. According to her friends from her banal suburban hometown of Porpoise Spit, Australia, she is beyond help—as one of them tells her, “You never wear the right clothes. You’re fat. You listen to 70s’ music. You bring us down, Muriel. You embarrass us.” Even if their criticisms are over the top, it’s plain that Muriel is uncomfortable in her own skin—the only moment where she looks relaxed is when she tunes out to Abba music in her bedroom, the walls of which are plastered with pages torn from bridal magazines. “I know I’m not normal,” she says to her bitchy friends, “but I’m trying to change.” “You’ll still be you,” they counter.

Muriel at resort

Their criticisms sting as badly as those from her father (Bill Hunter) a local celebrity clinging to his former political glory and doling out heavy psychological abuse to everyone in his family, including his meek and scatterbrained wife Betty (Jeanine Drynan, in a heartbreaking and subtle performance). Muriel yearns to escape from Porpoise Spit, and when her father’s mistress snags her a job as a cosmetics saleswoman, she cashes in her start-up money for a resort vacation to spite her old friends. There she reconnects with a former high school classmate Rhonda (Griffiths), who is nothing like Muriel’s former crowd.

Rachel Griffiths as Rhonda

Watching Rhonda and Muriel’s first conversation, you can see Muriel peeking out of her shell, as a brand new friend expresses real interest and enthusiasm in her life. Rhonda tells it like it is—she delivers the swift kick to the groin that the terrible Porpoise Spit girls deserve, and we immediately see what a friend like her does to liberate Muriel’s sense of self and fun. Is there anything more satisfying than watching Muriel and Rhonda triumph with their Abba number while the girls tear each other apart?

 Waterloo number

This is what triumph looks like—not a march down the aisle (we’ll get there later), but a victory dance with someone who matches you, white lame costume and all. The most romantic moment in the movie isn’t between Muriel and her new husband, it’s between Rhonda and Muriel as they celebrate their last night at the resort. Rhonda genuinely admires Muriel—partly for Muriel’s lie about a fiancé, but mostly because she is starting to stand up for herself. “In high school, you were so quiet you could hardly talk,” Rhonda tells her. “You were too shy to look at people . . . You’re not nothing, Muriel. You’ve made it.”

Rhonda and Muriel

It takes making a true friend like Rhonda to get her to leave her parents’ house and strike out for Sydney, where she gets a job as a video store clerk (right across the street from Rhonda’s job), finds a bit more of her own style, and begins dating. “This is my new life, I’m a new person—I’m changing my name, to Mariel.” Muriel/Mariel finds herself leaping fully into life—and into romance, without hesitating or fearing embarrassment. Even her first sexual encounter is full of joy—especially when she realizes the guy is even more eager to please than she is.

 Muriel’s first time

For a brief period, Muriel doesn’t count on Abba or wedding photos to feel good about herself. “Since I’ve met you and moved to Sydney, I haven’t listened to one Abba song,” she tells Rhonda. “That’s because now my life’s as good as an Abba song. It’s as good as ‘Dancing Queen’.” This confidence wanes, however, when Rhonda gets a scary diagnosis that leaves her in a wheelchair. Despondent, Muriel stops into a nearby bridal salon in hopes of comfort, in one of the most fetishistic wedding dress scenes of all time.

Muriel in wedding dress

Muriel’s yearning is palpable—she tears up as she’s swathed in silk, completely obsessed with the vision of herself as a beautiful bride. The illusion of desirability is enough to make her happy—for Muriel seeks transformation above all, the ability to feel beautiful and loved and to become Mariel, a bride, anyone except her old self.

 Bridal shop breakdown

When that transformative wedding presents itself, Muriel seizes the opportunity—even if it means marrying a foreign Olympic-level swimmer, David van Arkle (Daniel Lapaine), to help him gain citizenship. The marriage is predicated on a lie, and yet Muriel slips into the arrangement willingly, trading perfect love for a perfect wedding. Because she has such an extreme investment in this new version of herself, she leaves Rhonda behind, and as she walks down the aisle at her wedding (to an Abba tune, of course), she grins so broadly that she looks maniacal.

 Muriel’s wedding march

The wedding, in Muriel’s eyes, is a triumph—but when Rhonda, wheelchair-bound and stuck back in Porpoise Spit confronts her, the victory is suddenly very hollow. “I showed them,” Muriel beams. “Showed them what?” Rhonda asks. Muriel replies, “I’m as good as they are.” Rhonda is appalled. “Mariel van Arkle stinks. And she’s not half the person Muriel Heslop was.”

Muriel at altar

What is marriage supposed to do for a woman who doesn’t know her worth? Does a wedding dress make an ugly person beautiful? Does speaking vows equal promising love? Muriel epitomizes the kind of person who, in lieu of other prospects in her life, waits for the transformative power of her wedding day to find her true self. But this self wasn’t the one who blossomed with Rhonda and a new city—Muriel wanted to have the same success as that of her old friends, to be called successful because she had the marriage and the new name and the status of a beautiful wedding. But on her first night as a married woman, she sleeps alone, her husband a stranger, her friends all absent.

Betty (Muriel’s mom)

Muriel’s Wedding is basically a cautionary tale about valuing status and reputation over real connection. Muriel knows that she’s happy with Rhonda in Sydney, but by fulfilling her fantasies of beauty, wealth, and romantic achievement, she forgets her real strength: her honesty, decency, and kindness. These strengths were all there in her mother, Betty, whose cruel fate turns the movie from a girly romp into something much more meditative. She is talked over, pushed around, and utterly ignored, invisible even in her own home. Betty barely gets a moment of self-determination before she commits suicide, and her presence is felt most deeply in the frightening image of the Heslop backyard: a swath of literally scorched earth, where nothing can grow if nothing is tended and cared for.

Muriel in bed

Early in the film, Muriel tells her mom, “I’m gonna get married, and I’m gonna be a success.” And yet, weeping to her unfamiliar husband, Muriel realizes that her success is as thin and insubstantial as bridal organza. Speaking of her father, Muriel wails, “I thought I was so different—a new person. But I’m not. I’m just the same as him.” It takes retreating back to her true self, to calling herself Muriel once more, to actually feel loved, beautiful, and ready to take on the world. And Hogan delivers a finale that satisfies all those cravings.

 Finale

So ultimately putting Muriel’s Wedding in the wedding movie category is a bit like calling Thelma and Louise a crime thriller. Because the film skewers the narrow way a woman can view her wedding as a Cinderella-like escape, it may be one of the sharpest and smartest satires of our wedding-obsessed culture ever captured on film—and one of the best female empowerment movies ever made. While Muriel may have been a beautiful bride, she makes an even better heroine for single, married, and engaged women everywhere when she ditches the veil, the bouquet, and the bridesmaids, and finally learns to rely on herself.

Muriel at end


Jessica Freeman-Slade is a cookbook editor at Random House, and has written reviews for The Rumpus, The Millions, The TK Review, The Los Angeles Review of Books, and Specter Magazine, among others. She lives in Morningside Heights, NY.