Guest Writer Wednesday: ‘The Help’: Same Script, Different Cast

 
This guest post by elle previously appeared at Shakesville.

A caveat: I have not seen The Help. I do not plan to see The Help, yet I feel pretty confident that I have The Help all figured out. If you don’t know about this film, please see this post. I’m going to ground my thoughts about The Help in two other documents I will link: Valerie Boyd’s review entitled, “‘The Help,’ a feel-good movie for white people” and “An Open Statement to the Fans of ‘The Help’” from the Association of Black Women Historians (ABWH). A brief description from Boyd:
“The Help”—the film adaptation of the best-selling novel by Atlanta author Kathryn Stockett—is a feel-good movie for a cowardly [wrt to the ways we deal (or don’t deal) with issues of race] nation.

Despite its title, the film is not so much about the help—the black maids who kept many white Southern homes running before the civil rights movement gave them broader opportunities—as it is about the white women who employed and sometimes terrorized them. 

And there you have it, the problem at the heart of works like The Help that blossoms into myriad other problems—the centering of white women in a story that is supposed to be about women of color, the positioning of white women as saviors who give WoC voice. As my colleagues in the ABWH note:
Despite efforts to market the book and the film as a progressive story of triumph over racial injustice, The Help distorts, ignores, and trivializes the experiences of black domestic workers.

I want to meld these critiques of The Help with my own critique of phenomena that make movies like this possible. My critique is rooted in who I am: My name is elle, and I am a granddaughter of The Help. And while I can never begin (and would never want) to imagine myself as the voice of black domestic workers, I can at least share some of their own words with you and tell you some places you can find more of their words and thoughts.

I. The Help’s representation of [black domestic workers] is a disappointing resurrection of Mammy… [p]ortrayed as asexual, loyal, and contented caretakers of whites… —ABWH
Early on in “The Help,” we hear the maids complain that they’ve spent decades raising little white girls who grow up to become racists, just like their mothers. But this doesn’t stop Aibileen from unambiguously loving the little white girl she’s paid to care for. —Boyd

When you put white women at the center of a story allegedly about black women, then the relationships between those two groups of women is filtered through the lens and desires of white women, many of whom want to believe themselves “good” to black people. That goodness will result in the unconditional love, trust and loyalty of the black people closest to them. They can remember the relationships fondly and get teary-eyed when they think of “the black woman who raised me and taught me everything.” They fancy themselves as their black nanny’s “other children” and privilege makes them demand the attention and affection such children would be showed.
I hated, hated, hated that my grandmother and her sister were domestics.

Not because I was ashamed, but because of the way white people treated them and us.

Like… coming to their funerals and sitting on the front row with the immediate family because they had notions of their own importance. “Nanny raised us!” one of my aunt’s “white children” exclaimed, then stood there regally as the family cooed and comforted her. 

But, as the granddaughter of the help, I learned that the woman my grandmother’s employers and their children saw was not my “real” grandmother. Forced to follow the rules of racial etiquette, to grin and bear it, she had a whole other persona around white people. It could be dangerous, after all, to be one’s real self, so black women learned “what to say, how to say it, and sometimes, not to say anything, don’t show any emotion at all, because even just your expression could cause you a lot of trouble.”** They wore the mask that Paul Laurence Dunbar and so many other black authors have written about. It is at once protective and pleasant, reflective of the fact that black women knew “their white people” in ways white people could never be bothered to know them. These were not equal relationships in which love and respect were allowed to flourish.

Indeed, with regard to the white children for whom they cared, black women often felt levels of “ambiguity and complexity” with which our “cowardly nation” is uncomfortable. Yes, my grandmother had a type of love for the children for whom she cared, but I knew it was not the same love she had for us. I think August Boatwright in the film adaptation of The Secret Life of Bees (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers a white girl) voiced this ambiguity and complexity much better. When her newest white charge, Lily, asks August if she loved Lily’s mother, for whom August had also cared, August is unable to give an immediate, glowing response. Instead, she explains how the situation was complicated and the fragility of a love that grows in such problematic circumstances.
Bernestine Singley, whose mother worked for a white family, was a bit more blunt when the daughter of that family claimed that Singley’s mother loved her:
I’m thinking the maid might’ve been several steps removed from thoughts of love so busy was she slinging suds, pushing a mop, vacuuming the drapes, ironing and starching load after load of laundry. Plus, I know what Mama told us when she, my sister, and I reported on our day over dinner each night and not once did Mama’s love for the [white child for whom she cared] find its way into that conversation: She cleaned up behind, but she did not love those white children.

II. The caricature of Mammy allowed mainstream America to ignore the systemic racism that bound black women to back-breaking, low paying jobs where employers routinely exploited them. Furthermore, African American domestic workers often suffered sexual harassment as well as physical and verbal abuse in the homes of white employers. —ABWH
From films like The Help, we can’t know what life for black domestic workers is/was really like because, despite claims to the contrary, it’s not black domestic workers talking! The ABWH letter gives some good sources at the end, and I routinely assign readings about situations like the “Bronx Slave Market” in which black women had to sell their labor for pennies during the Depression. The nature of domestic labor is grueling, yet somehow that is always danced over in films like this.

As is the reality of dealing with poorly-paid work. In her autobiographical account, “I Am a Domestic,” Naomi Ward describes white employers’ efforts to pay the least money and extract the most work as “a matter of inconsiderateness, downright selfishness.” “We usually work twelve to fourteen hours a day, seven days a week,” she continues, “Our wages are pitifully small.” Sometimes, there were no wages, as another former domestic worker explains: “I cleaned house and cooked. That’s all I ever did around white folks, clean house and cook. They didn’t pay any money. No money, period. No money, period.”**
Additionally, the job came with few to no recognizable benefits. The federal government purposely left work like domestic labor out of the (pathetic) safety net of social security, a gift to southerners who wanted to keep domestic and agricultural workers under their thumbs. After a lifetime of share-cropping and nanny-ing, my grandmother, upon becoming unable to work, found that she was not eligible for any work-based benefit/pension program. Instead, she received benefits from the “old age” “welfare” program, disappearing her work and feeding the stereotype of black women as non-working and in search of a handout. (I want to make clear that I am a supporter of social services programs, believe women do valuable work that is un- or poorly-remunerated and ignored/devalued. So, my issue is not that she benefited from a “welfare” program but how participation in such programs has been used as a weapon against black women in a country that tends to value, above all else, men’s paid work.)
The control of black people’s income also paid a psychological wage to white southerners:
[Their white employers gave] my grandmother and aunt money, long after they’d retired, not because they didn’t pay taxes for domestic help or because they objected to the fact that our government excluded domestic work from social insurance or because they appreciated the sacrifices my grandmother and her sister made. No, that money was proof that, just as their slaveholding ancestors argued, they took care of their negroes even after retirement!

The various forms of verbal and emotional abuse suffered are also glossed over to emphasize how black and white women formed unshakeable bonds. By contrast, Naomi Ward described the conflicted nature of her relationships with white women and being treated as if she were “completely lacking in human dignity and respect.” In Coming of Age in Mississippi, Anne Moody says of her contentious relationship with her employer, Mrs. Burke, “Mrs. Burke had made me feel like rotten garbage. Many times she had tried to instill fear within me and subdue me…” Here, I wrote a bit about the participation, by white women, in the subjugation of women of color domestic workers.
And what of abuse by white men? “‘The Help’s’ focus on women leaves white men blameless for any of Mississippi’s ills,” writes Boyd:
White male bigots have been terrorizing black people in the South for generations. But the movie relegates Jackson’s white men to the background, never linking any of its affable husbands to such menacing and well-documented behavior. We never see a white male character donning a Klansman’s robe, for example, or making unwanted sexual advances (or worse) toward a black maid.

This is a serious exclusion according to the ABWH, “Portraying the most dangerous racists in 1960s Mississippi as a group of attractive, well dressed, society women, while ignoring the reign of terror perpetuated by the Ku Klux Klan and the White Citizens Council, limits racial injustice to individual acts of meanness.”

Why the silence? Well, aside from the fact that this is supposed to be a “feel good movie,” when you idolize black women as asexual mammies in a culture where rape and sexual harassment are often portrayed as compliments/acknowledgements of physical beauty (who would want to rape a fat, brown-skinned woman?!), then the constant threat of sexual abuse under which many of them labored and still labor vanishes. But black women themselves have long written about and protested this form of abuse. My own grandmother told me to be careful of white boys who would try to make me “sneak around” with them and an older southern man who was a fellow grad student told me that he and other southern men believed it was “good luck” to sleep with a black woman. Here, in the words of black women, are acknowledgements of how pervasive the problem was (is):
“I remember very well the first and last work place from which I was dismissed. I lost my place because I refused to let the madam’s husband kiss me… I believe nearly all white men take, and expect to take, undue liberties with their colored female servants.”*
“The color of her face alone is sufficient invitation to the southern white man… [f]ew colored girls reach the age of sixteen without receiving advances from them.”*
“I learned very early about abuse from white men. It was terrible at one time and there wasn’t anybody to tell.”**
These stories abound in works like Stephanie Shaw’s What a Woman Ought to Be and Do, Paula Giddings’s When and Where I Enter, Deborah Gray-White’s Too Heavy a Load, and other books where black women are truly at the center of the story. Black women’s concern over sexual abuse is serious and readily evident, but The Help, according to the ABWH, “makes light of black women’s fears and vulnerabilities turning them into moments of comic relief.”
III. The popularity of this most recent iteration [of the mammy] is troubling because it reveals a contemporary nostalgia for the days when a black woman could only hope to clean the White House rather than reside in it. —ABWH
This mention of the White House is not casual (Boyd opens her review with an Obama-era reference, as well). I’m currently working on a manuscript that examines portrayals of black women and issues of our “desirability,” success, and femininity in media. To sum it up, we, apparently, are not desirable or feminine and our success is a threat to the world at large. Many black women are trying to figure out why so much is vested in this re-birthed image of us (because it’s not new). One conclusion is that it is a counter to the image of Michelle Obama. By all appearances successful, self-confident, happily married and a devoted mother, she’s too much for our mammy/sapphire/jezebel-loving society to take. And so, the nostalgia the ABWH mentions comes into play. It’s a way to keep us “in our place.”

It happens every day on a smaller scale to black women. I remember someone congratulating me in high school on achieving a 4.0 and saying that maybe my parents would take it easy on me for one-six weeks chore-wise. The white girl standing with us, who always had a snide comment on my academic success, quickly turned the conversation into one about how she hated her chores and how she so hoped the black lady who worked for them, whom she absolutely adored, would clean her room.
Even now, one of my black female colleagues and I talk about how some of our students “miss mammy” and it shows in how they approach us, both plus-sized, brown-skinned black women with faces described as “kind.” I do not need to know about the black woman who was just like your grandmother, nor will I over-sympathize with this way-too-detailed life story you feel compelled to come to my office and (over)share.

IV. [T]he film is woefully silent on the rich and vibrant history of black Civil Rights activists in Mississippi. Granted, the assassination of Medgar Evers, the first Mississippi based field secretary of the NAACP, gets some attention. However, Evers’ assassination sends Jackson’s black community frantically scurrying into the streets in utter chaos and disorganized confusion—a far cry from the courage demonstrated by the black men and women who continued his fight. —ABWH
Embedded in this is perhaps the clearest evidence of the cowardliness of our nation. First, we cannot dwell too long on racism, in this case as exemplified in the Jim Crow Era and by its very clear effects. “Scenes like that would have been too heavy for the film’s persistently sunny message,” suggests Boyd. I’d go further to suggest that scenes like that are too heavy for our country’s persistently sunny message of equal opportunity and dreams undeferred.

Second, when we do have discussions on the Jim Crow Era, we have to centralize white people who want to be on what most now see as the “right” side of history. They weren’t just allies, they did stuff and saved us! And so, you get stories like The Help premised on the notion that “the black maids would trust Skeeter with their stories, and that she would have the ability, despite her privileged upbringing, to give them voice.” Or like The Long Walk Home, (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers… well, you get it) in which you walk away with the feeling that, yeah black people took risks during the Montgomery Bus Boycott, but the person who had the most to lose, who was bravest, was the white woman employer who initially intervened only because she wanted to keep her “help.”

These stories perpetuate racism because they imply that it is right and rightful that white people take the lead and speak for us. (On another note, how old is this storyline? Skeeter’s appropriation of black women’s stories and voices, coupled with the fact that “Skeeter, who is simply taking dictation, gets the credit, the byline and the paycheck” reminded me so much of Imitation of Life, when Bea helps herself to Delilah’s pancake recipe, makes millions from it, keeps most for herself and Delilah is… grateful?!) The moral of these stories is, where would we have been without the guidance and fearlessness of white people?
I know this moral. That’s why I have no plans to see The Help.
_______________________
*From Gerda Lerner, Black Women in White America.
**From Anne Valk and Leslie Brown, Living with Jim Crow.



elle is an assistant professor who does a little of this an a little of that—primarily social history courses, some Women’s Studies and African American Studies classes, and seminars on the historical construction of race, gender, and class with a focus on how those constructions influence and are reinforced by popular media. She writes about the South and about black women’s paid and unpaid labor. She’s also a single mama to a teenaged boy that would test the patience of Mother Teresa, has an unhealthy love for TV shows with “forensic” and/or “crime” in the title, and is an amateur caterer.






Ripley’s Pick: Meek’s Cutoff

Meek’s Cutoff (2010)
Meek’s Cutoff is the kind of quiet movie that doesn’t get a lot of attention–or box office dollars–but should.
Set in 1845 on the Oregon Trail (insert obligatory joke about the Oregon Trail computer game), three families make their way west with the help of Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood), but soon realize that his ‘shortcut’ has left them lost and quickly running out of water. When they encounter and capture a Native American man, they ultimately decide that he must know the land better, and they choose him to lead them, despite political differences they perceive as “natural” and a language barrier. Whether he will lead them to water or to destruction is the question.
When I say quiet, I mean it. More than seven minutes pass before a word is uttered, during which time we see the families cross a deep river, one of the women holding a bright little caged canary aloft, and one of the men scratch the word LOST into a fallen tree. No words need to be spoken to read the situation these settlers find themselves in, and when words are finally spoken, they come from a child reading from the Bible.
The poster above connects Meek’s Cutoff with another contemporary (although it is a remake) Western– True Grit. While the films share female characters as the ones with the real grit, I’m actually reminded more of There Will Be Blood, in terms of tone and subject (more on this later). I wrote about Meek’s Cutoff when it was opening in theatres, and said the following about Westerns:

The Western genre is traditionally tied up in all kinds of rugged masculinity, and of all film genres, maybe best exemplifies the dominant way the United States collectively imagines itself: sturdy, adventurous, self sufficient, brave, and, well, pretty butch. The problem is, however, that this narrative leaves out a significant number of people, and a significant portion of the story. The Western (and the story of the U.S. West) tries to be the story of the United States itself, and reveals ideology so clearly where it fails–namely, in its depiction of women, indigenous peoples, immigrants, and African-Americans. The genre is, in other words, ripe for retellings and allegory.

Rugged masculinity is not lauded in Meek’s Cutoff, but depicted as dangerous and violent. Meek is not trustworthy, and is not even the central character in this Western. The quiet power here lies in the women, who are often depicted working–collecting firewood, washing, walking alongside the wagons–and discussing their situation, relying less than the men on divine providence and the violent tales of vicious Indians from a rebel cowboy. Emily (Michelle Williams) is the boldest of the women, though Millie and Glory (who is very pregnant) show strength and critical thought about their situation. While ideas about race and gender roles fit squarely in the 19th century (the women don’t even ask to vote when the men are choosing their path, and are quick and easy with racial epithets), the critique of the American mythos rings clearly.
In her review of There Will Be Blood for this site, Lesley Jenike succinctly explains the dominance of white men in Serious, Important Films made in the U.S.:

If we consider some of our American cinematic “masterpieces,” we often find them absent vibrant female characters, for example (think The Godfather, Citizen Kane, and Chinatown to name just three). As much as I desperately want to see my gender portrayed with respect, honesty, and integrity, many films that deal with the great American mythos don’t have much room for female characters, simply because women haven’t been a part of, and are often still excluded from, the creation story we tell ourselves—a story of brutal boots-on-the-ground capitalism and, negatively speaking, punishing exploitation. It’s a Judeo-Christian story in which the individual male forges his path through the wilderness, an anti-hero who, despite his great wealth and power, can’t overcome his subsequent moral corruption. What’s important to recognize is that the marked absence of “the other” in these films is a comment on an institutionalized patriarchy that extends beyond our everyday interactions to the very heart of our cultural mythos. There Will Be Blood is yet another film that further cements a white male-dominated American story of origin.

Meek’s Cutoff, directed by Kelly Reichardt (Old Joy, Wendy & Lucy), explores the great American mythos without telling a story centered on a male protagonist. Families that went west were just that–families, consisting of men, women, and children. It’s possible to comment on institutionalized patriarchy and the American story of origin without entirely excluding women or revising history to make it less ugly, less cruel, or more inclusive. Women are part of the story, and maybe it takes more women to step up and tell the stories, lest we be excised completely.
There is much to say about this film, which is visually gorgeous and tense enough to keep you on the edge of your seat, but rather than go into intricate analyses of the imagery and possible political interpretations, I’m going to just recommend you rent (or buy) the film and do your own analysis.
Have you seen Meek’s Cutoff? If so, what did you think?
 
 

Quote(s) of the Day: Geena Davis and Abigail Disney

At the Social Good Summit a couple of weeks ago, a panel was held called, “Women and Girls Lead: Where Storytelling, Gaming, and Public Media Converge,” and the entire thing rocked my world. It’s moderated by Aaron Sherinian, Vice President of Communications and Public Relations of the United Nations Foundation, and the members of the panel include Geena Davis, founder of the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media; Paula Kerger, President and CEO of PBS; Abigail Disney, Executive Producer of the film Women, War & Peace; and Asi Burak, Co-President of Games for Change.
I want to include two quotes from the panel, the first from Geena Davis—regarding gender representations in media, particularly programming for children—and the second from Abigail Disney, in which she discusses women and rape, and how men need to become more involved in its prevention. (I’ll post the video as well, but it’s always difficult to know if and when it’ll be taken down. That said, if you’re able to watch it, please watch it. And pass it on!)
Geena Davis, on changing society’s perceptions of women and girls
I think the problem is very broad, that in media in general, all that we’ve seen from when we were little kids, and all that’s shown now, are very, very imbalanced fictional worlds where there are far more male characters than female characters, and the female characters don’t really get to do a lot. So kids take this in, they internalize it, and they end up not being able to picture women doing interesting and unusual things because they’ve never seen it before. You can only accept it and take it in as a reality if you’ve seen it. So what we need to do is, first of all, add a lot more female characters because we really do take up half the planet, and we’re not like a rare subgroup like we’re shown in movies and television. And also, to show a breadth of occupations and aspirations and interests in these characters, so that boys and girls get used to seeing girls doing interesting and challenging things.   

Abigail Disney, on men becoming more involved in rape prevention
[responding to how members of the audience can get involved with the Women and Girls Lead projectan upcoming documentary series from PBS that deals with issues affecting girls and women]
Well, I guess I’ll divide the audience into women and men, and I’ll say to the women: Come! Help me. Be my sisters, and help me do this because this is really important. And for the men: Don’t be afraid. We love you; we like you; we want you. We asked Matt Damon to narrate the Bosnia episode, and the Bosnia episode is a lot about sexual violence. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but here’s why we did it: I’ve spent my adult life working on these issues, and I’ve heard a lot of women, and the sound of what it is when they’re indignant about a woman being raped. And I don’t hear that from men. I would like to hear a man’s voice in indignation around the rape of women. If you think about social movements through history, you know, nothing has ever really shifted until people have involved themselves in movements that they had nothing to gain by succeeding—white people in the North going to the South to help in the civil rights movements; yuppies in California protesting for the end of apartheid. We need you guys. You are really important. Because the fact is that women are still being raped in the United States and sexually harassed in the United States in the same numbers they were being raped in the 1960s and 70s. Until you guys come with us, the world just won’t shift.

Beware ‘The Ides of March’

How many times will that title be used when discussing The Ides of March? I couldn’t resist.
Directed by George Clooney and opening this weekend, Ides is a political thriller centered on a presidential candidate’s press secretary. And SCANDAL.
This is the kind of movie that gets Oscar buzz. What kind of movie? Clooney-directed political statement? Story about power and political corruptions? Sure, maybe. There’s precedent for that. White-male directed movie about powerful white men, and politics, with a dash of sexy lady and serious lady? Definitely.
Watch for yourself:

Now, as I haven’t seen The Ides of March, or read much about it yet, I could be totally wrong. Marisa Tomei as Black Glasses Serious Reporter could be the center of the film, the only person in Ohio (or the national press) with enough smarts and courage to investigate the SCANDAL. The movie could completely center around her work to uncover and expose the SCANDAL (although she gets one or possibly two lines in the trailer). My snarky “sexy lady” comment could also be completely off base; Evan Rachel Wood’s character in the trailer might claim to not be able to tie a tie, and might joke about being a “lowly intern” just to cover up her power. Right? RIGHT?!
You might scoff at my annoyance specifically with this movie, because politics in the United States is dominated by white men, and women don’t have much power in the political game, so in that sense, the movie is “realistic.” But you can’t look at this movie (or any movie) in isolation. Judging from the trailer, Ides follows a well-established pattern for Serious Movies That Become Oscar-Nominated Films (see our reviews of Oscar-nominated movies from 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2011 for some examples), or, Important Movies About Important Things (read: not things that particularly involve women).

Instead of seeing Ides of March this weekend, I want to watch a political thriller in which women take center stage. Give me some ideas.

Cracked.com Makes Obnoxious Assumptions While Critiquing Hollywood’s Obnoxious Assumptions

Last week, I somehow ended up on Cracked.com reading a post called, “6 Obnoxious Assumptions Hollywood Makes About Women.” It’s no surprise that I ended up there, given that I write for Bitch Flicks and have a vested interest in Hollywood’s Obnoxious Assumptions, of which there are many. But. Cracked.com seriously failed with a couple of items in this piece. I considered not even writing about it, but then I realized it had more than a million page views, at least two thousand comments, and more than nine thousand Facebook shares. (Kind of like the readership we get at Bitch Flicks. Wait … no … that’s not quite right … ). With so many people out there reading such a well-intentioned yet problematic piece, I believe it deserves some analysis here.* I know Cracked.com promotes itself as a humor site, and—as hard as this is to believe coming from a feminist—I love humor. Honestly. Ask anyone who knows me—I promise I’m the most hilarious person everyone knows. Humor, however, or the attempt at humor, doesn’t give someone license to say offensive shit under the guise of hilarity. I will say that I agree with most of the Obnoxious Assumptions on the list; my issue resides with the ways in which the author attempts to critique two of those assumptions in particular.

The piece begins with an introduction citing a classic in Hollywood cinema: the sexual objectification of women. Yay, good point! Wait, no. Because after that acknowledgment, we immediately get, “That’s annoying, but it least it makes sense. They’re pandering to men, or they’re sexist, or whatever.” I felt myself cringe a little there, considering objectification of women on screen triggers more than mere “annoyance” for me and exists as one of the main reasons women in general still deal with an assload of inequality—it’s hard to see a woman portrayed as someone who only exists for your pleasure (be it visual or otherwise) as your equal, right? But, red flag aside, I decided to give the author the benefit of the doubt; her main point after all is that Hollywood screenwriters try to make up for the stuff that’s “just for the guys” (like naked women) by giving women something they want—an “everywoman” character who’s just like them! I’m still trying to figure out where women who aren’t white and heterosexual fit into all this.

You can check out the article on Cracked.com if you want to see the list in its entirety, but I’m only focusing on the two most offensive instances here. 


Worrying About Being Fat When You’re Not

I’m 100% with the author on this one (at first). She uses perfect examples—like, we’re really supposed to identify with Julia Roberts as “fat” in Eat Pray Love? Or with Toni Collette as the “fat, ugly sister” in In Her Shoes? It’s offensive and ridiculous and, yes, I’m in agreement! But then, we get this: “Look, I totally get it that nobody wants to see actual fat people on a screen for two hours and Hollywood has to trot out skinny actresses because that’s what the audience wants.” Oh, really? That’s an interesting and Obnoxious Assumption. In fact, I don’t think I’d mind at all seeing Actual Fat Women on screen. That might—what?—start to maybe challenge Obnoxious Assumptions About Fat Women? Because the author didn’t mean “Actual Fat People,” did she; she meant “Actual Fat Women.” Fat men are all over the damned screen, and they’re all sleeping with Kristen Bell and Elizabeth Banks and Kali Hawk and Katherine Heigl and Reese Witherspoon and Julia Roberts and Halle Berry. Cracked.com’s Obnoxious Assumption? No One Wants to See Fat Women in Movies 

Getting Angry For No Reason

Okay, no. I don’t know how something that starts off only mildly offensive manages to derail so … impressively in a matter of a few sentences. I have no doubt, again, that this Obnoxious Hollywood Assumption probably does exist. The author’s take, paraphrased: movies often rely on the idea that in order to showcase a woman as strong and independent, the script must call for her to flip out on men at random, without sufficient motivation. In all honesty, I haven’t thought much about this. I’m sure if I did, I could come up with a few examples of very anti-feminist films and Straw Feminist characters that fall into that trap, but the examples the author uses here—that Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and Jennifer Garner in Daredevil physically attack men for no reason—don’t seem to take into account the fact that Kevin Costner and Ben Affleck were both behaving like fucking stalkers, in which case I’d hardly call their ass-beatings unprovoked. The author then hypothesizes about the writers of these films, guessing that “Their only picture of a ‘tough’ woman is of a bitchy militant feminist who will scream at you for saying ‘Congressman’ instead of ‘Congressperson.’” That, naturally, is accompanied by a photo of a woman beating a man with flowers, and the caption: “Did you just say hi to me? RAPIST! RAPIST!!!”

Hilarious.

In fairness to the author, I think she’s trying to critique the assumption that women aren’t, you know, insane by virtue of being women (the way Hollywood often portrays us), and I agree wholeheartedly with that; but the critique, regardless of the author’s actual intent, ultimately comes across as, “Look, not all women behave like those militant feminists who think all men want to rape them, so I wish Hollywood would stop making that Obnoxious Assumption,” which is just Cracked.com’s Obnoxious Assumption About Feminists. All in all, no. 


*So let me just get this over with: This Is Important. I almost didn’t write my analysis because the instinct for many readers is to say: “Why can’t you focus on Real things like Real issues that Real feminists focus on?” So I’ll say it again: This Is Important. This “minor stuff” illustrates a huge problem with why the “Real issues” take such a long fucking time to eradicate. The “we’ve got bigger fish to fry” argument doesn’t work with social activism (and I very much consider what we do here to be social activism) because “Real issues” for women, like rape and physical abuse, exist precisely because the “minor stuff” makes up their core. I can’t talk about rape and physical abuse without talking about media portrayals of women, whether they be in the form of offensive articles (see above), sexist film advertisements that degrade women sexually, or seemingly “harmless” movie trailers that linger a little too long on women’s breasts and backsides, just as I can’t talk about those things without also discussing the larger impact they have on women’s safety, self-esteem, and individual agency. They’re interconnected, and it works the same way for all forms of oppression. So, when more than a million people possibly uncritically read a piece that flaunts fat hatred and plays rape for laughs—believe me, that shit perpetuates fat hatred and rape culture in a very Real way. That’s why I called attention to this. Thanks for reading. 

Gay Christian Geek’s One-Year Blogiversary!

Guess what?! Gay Christian Geek turned one year old on Thursday, September 29th. Here’s a belated congratulations!

In addition to checking out her 5 most popular posts (which she links to on her blog), definitely re-read her wonderful analysis of No Country For Old Men from our 2008 Best Picture Nominee Review Series!

Keep blogging, Anna!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Flick Chicks: A guide to women in the movies by Mindy Kaling for The New Yorker

Kickstarter campaign for ‘The Punk Singer is Kathleen Hanna’ by Sini Anderson

Tomi-Ann Roberts on the sexualization of girls from SPARK Summit

CNN’s “Gender Identity: A Change in Childhood” from Bitch

Early Signs of a “Bridesmaids” Bump by Rebecca Traister for Salon

The Cost of a Non-Diverse Media by Ariel Dougherty for Ms.

Book Excerpt: Where Have All the Girl Bands Gone by Courtney E. Smith from Women and Hollywood

Man Up: The CEO of “Light Beer” Takes Issue with Miller Lite from The Good Men Project

Why Is TV Suddenly Overstuffed With Buxom Bunnies, Sexy Stewardesses, and Charlie’s Angels? by Sarah Seltzer & Julianne Escobedo Shepherd for AlterNet

Sex, Gender, and Dancing with Chaz Bono by Barbara J. King for NPR

Leave your links in the comments!



Fall Television Preview: The Answer Is No

No.
People have made a big deal out of the new Fall television shows because many of these new shows star women, either as leads or in ensemble casts. Some shows have yet to premiere, while others, like Whitney, 2 Broke Girls, and New Girl already debuted in early September. But, get this: I don’t have cable. I used to have cable, but then I realized I often watched 47 hours of television in one sitting, rather than the 25 I watch now (via Netflix streaming—even though Netflix refuses to offer hardly anything current, which makes their price-hike all the more infuriating). So I get my news from Twitter, my feminism from Blogs, and my TV from 1995.

Aside from thinking about how Monk could’ve been a really good show if it weren’t so sexist and racist, and how Roseanne got seriously crappy in its last two seasons, and how Ally McBeal might be the most horrendous televised display of faux-feminism slash enlightened sexism I’ve ever seen, I’ve spent some time going over these new Fall television shows by checking out their Web sites, reading their plot summaries, and—my favorite part—looking at how The People In Charge chose to market them. I noticed an overall trend: in addition to the increase in shows starring women, we’re about to be treated to a whole litany of Man-Shows.

When I say “Man-Shows,” I don’t mean television programming that merely stars men. I’m talking about some serious “Lest Anyone Forget—What With All These New Shows Starring Women—WE ARE STILL VERY POWERFUL MASCULINE MEN ON TV WE OWN EVERYTHING NO SERIOUSLY ROAR” Neanderthal action. I find it simultaneously hilarious and unacceptable. As always, both men and women get to see themselves as caricatures and stereotypes—courtesy of society’s regressive gender constraints—portrayed in television, particularly on network TV. Some of the more offensive “Man-Shows” this season include, Man Up!, How to Be a Gentleman, and Last Man Standing. In fact, NPR just published an excellent piece by Linda Holmes titled, “Congratulations, Television! You Are Even Worse at Masculinity Than Femininity!” in which she asks the following:

… Where, on television, are the men who both like football and remember birthdays? Where are the men who can have a highly insightful drink-and-talk with friends? Where are the men who are great dads, great husbands, great boyfriends? Where are the men who are dedicated to important jobs? Where are the men who aren’t seeking reassurance about what it means to be men? Where are, in short, all the men I rely on in my day-to-day life?

All good questions indeed.

I’m sure the male characters in these shows are total clichés portrayed in absolutes—or, as Holmes notes, “Men who are emotionally reactive … are weak; men who are emotionally inert … are clueless.” I also believe that the major force driving these narratives about manhood and masculinity is a direct result of our society’s fear and hatred of the feminine. In the very narrow worlds of film and television, isn’t it more often other men who label emotionally reactive men “weak,” … while women label emotionally inert men “clueless”? Men can’t win in these worlds; that’s certainly true. It starts at the beginning, with our collective call for boys to “stop acting like whiny little girls”—because, as boys and girls both learn, being a girl is The Worst.

My point? This very limited view of gender and gender expectations isn’t a new trend. And, while I agree with Holmes’ take in general, I don’t see these portrayals as having worsened in TV, either. I see them as possibly more overt this season, and I see the Man-Shows as an obvious reaction (i.e. backlash) against the increase in shows about women and the displays of femininity that accompany them. And if what Holmes says is in fact true, that “In both cases, women don’t want to have sex with them [weak and clueless men], even if they’re married to them,” I actually find it much easier to swallow than I do the Apatowian version of that story, where emotionally stunted man-children all across the globe end up living happily ever after (and sexually fulfilled) with Katherine Heigl and Elizabeth Banks.

Holmes also expresses concern over the “silly women” in Fall television but ultimately argues, “At least they are not presented as women who are being women incorrectly,” (you know, the way men are presented as being men incorrectly). I find that statement interesting. I mean, if you take a close look at the roles women play on these brand spankin’ new TV shows, the “at least women aren’t presented as being women incorrectly” argument doesn’t hold up. It’s funny, actually. Because the definitions of what these women are even allowed to be on television certainly trumps any notion of whether they’re being it correctly. (Besides, I’m about 175% sure that women judging women or men judging women for dressing too slutty or being bad moms/teachers/wives/sisters or gaining weight or not gaining weight or smiling or not smiling happens about three thousand times per episode. On each show.)


Here’s a list of woman-centered shows premiering September through November, along with the roles and/or occupations of the women (when I could find the information on the Web site): a murder witness (Ringer), a wife, career woman, and mom (Up All Night), a witch (The Secret Circle), waitresses (2 Broke Girls), Playboy bunnies (The Playboy Club), a teacher (New Girl), a homicide detective (Unforgettable), a vengeful woman (Revenge), beautiful detectives (Charlie’s Angels), an unmarried woman (Whitney), a homicide detective (Prime Suspect), flight attendants (Pan Am), a doctor (Hart of Dixie), a CIA agent (Homeland), clueless moms (I Hate My Teenage Daughter), a “crazy” health and beauty executive (Enlightened).

I look at this list, and my first instinct is to go, “Yay! Women get to be detectives, too!” And that’s certainly progress—if we’re comparing this Fall TV season to, like, the days of Leave It to Beaver. The rest of the roles on the list, with the exception of “doctor,” embody careers/roles traditionally held and/or performed by women. That isn’t to suggest anything inherently negative about those roles; I’m merely stating a fact. I wouldn’t doubt that most of the women characters in the male-dominated fields (homicide detective, doctor, CIA agent) also get the wonderful bonus of being The Lone Woman, spending 90% of her time surrounded by men (Smurfette Principal, anyone?) …

… shit, maybe I’m defining “woman-centered” too loosely, out of desperation.

Here’s a list of man-centered shows premiering September through November, along with the roles and/or occupations of the men (when I could find the information on the Web site): a former CIA agent (Person of Interest), a mysterious billionaire (Person of Interest), a surgeon (A Gifted Man), a writer (How to Be a Gentleman), a personal trainer (How to Be a Gentleman), a marketing director (Last Man Standing), an insurance salesman (Man Up!), a homicide detective (Grimm), a mayor (Boss), a soldier (Hell on Wheels).

Can I be a mysterious billionaire? I want that role. Or Mayor. Can I be Mayor? Ha. I think I need to step back. First, it stinks that TV wants to get in on that whole man-child bankability thing that the movie industry has relied on since, what, Animal House? But the man-child isn’t really a new thing for TV, is it? (See Friends, Arrested Development, The Big Bang Theory, Parks and Recreation, My Name Is Earl, Monk, et al.) Instead, the novel thing for Fall TV appears to be the man-child’s sudden mission to Reclaim His Masculinity—a popular yet very regressive and harmful version of masculinity that, let’s face it, kept George W. Bush in the White House for eight years.

Second, make no mistake, TV stinks big-time for women this season, too. I refuse to fall into the trap I used to always fall into. I’d say something like, “Look! More woman-centered shows! Progress for women!” But now I know better—it ain’t just about visibility. (See Palin, Bachmann, et al.) Women as Playboy bunnies? It’s 2011. You can take your nostalgia and shove it. A woman having a nervous breakdown to the laughter of audiences everywhere? I already do that every day in real life. (I just laughed out loud.) In conclusion, I’d like to get to a point in television where women can be more than crazy, vengeful, murder-witnessing waitresses babysitting a man-child.
 
Yes. This entire post was merely a lead-in to the phrase “murder-witnessing waitresses babysitting a man-child.” You’re welcome.


YouTube Break: Too Many Dicks on the Daily Show

I love The Daily Show. They offer insightful (and often hilarious) commentary, especially their critiques of media hypocrisy.  
BUT. The Daily Show is yet another example of media that is male-centered in its cast, crew, and content. 

Here’s a remix from Rebellious Pixels.

From Rebellious Pixels’ description:

I am a fan of The Daily Show about 50% of the time but often find myself disappointed with the overwhelmingly male-centered style, jokes, segments and guests each night. Sure the occasional, strategically deployed, dick joke can be an effective tool for pointing out sexism or undermining homophobia but more often than not Jon Stewart and his team just use penis humor to get cheap laughs. I can’t help but feel that there are, in fact, just too many dicks on the dance floor. 
The serious lack of women in on-screen or leading creative roles on The Daily Show and other late-night comedy shows has been well documented and discussed in recent years. But here’s a quick recap: Only 3 of the 12 regular correspondences/contributors on The Daily Show are women. Only 2 of the 16 writers are women. And so far barely 15% of the guests in 2011 have been women.

Be sure to read the entire description (and watch other remixes) here.

(And now that song is stuck in your head. You’re welcome.)

Documentary Preview: Women in the Dirt

Directed and produced by Carolann Stoney.
Okay, this documentary just looks cool.
Women in the Dirt is a new film that showcases seven landscape architects in California: Cheryl Barton, Andrea Cochran, Isabelle Greene, Mia Lehrer, Lauren Melendrez, Pamela Palmer, and Katherine Spitz
From the Web site: “Through conversations with the landscape architects in their offices, or in the stunning spaces they’ve designed, the film explores each woman’s personal aesthetics and approach to their discipline. Women in the Dirt shows how these ‘masters of the obvious’ create the sublime.”
An excerpt from a review by Lydia Schrufer:
Women in the Dirt reveals landscape architecture’s unique status as a modern profession founded by both men and women. This history is graciously deepened by vignettes of seven contemporary women landscape architects. Director Carolann Stoney has selected top landscape architects whose contributions to American landscapes will now receive their due. ‘Just as anyone can enjoy histories of women artists, Women in the Dirt is gendered in its subject, but not its audience,’ observes Katie Kingery-Page, Assistant Professor of Landscape Architecture at Kansas State University.

The above is only one of many testimonials to which I wholeheartedly add my own; kudos to Carolann Stoney for an aesthetically challenging, thought-provoking, beautiful film.

Urban Gardens featured the film on their site back in January:

Women, the film demonstrates, are influencing the profession of landscape architecture more today than ever before. Though each of the landscape architects featured has a unique body of work, ‘their concerns overlap in the realm of sustainability and enduring design.’

By shaping our lives, transforming our cities, and nourishing the environment, landscape architecture, as the film shows, is more than the ‘simple arrangement of plants and flowers for corporate spaces and the gardens of rich people.’

The press photos on the site are breathtaking–definitely check them out. While the film appears to be screening in theaters, you can also purchase the DVD here.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Rom-Coms Don’t Suck

This cross-post from Amanda Krauss previously appeared at Risatrix.
Romantic comedies have existed for literally thousands of years; the same historical genre, comoedia, is also responsible for today’s sitcoms.
But romantic comedies, especially, have suffered a great deal in the last few decades. These supposed “chick” flicks (male-authored for millennia, and still mostly male-created) get ridiculously low scores on MetaCritic and Rotten Tomatoes. Meanwhile, most “guy” comedies (e.g. an Apatow joint) or action flicks get decent scores, seemingly without even trying.
This is pure and simple sexism. You sure as hell can’t defend action flicks on aesthetic grounds. And any reviewer who accuses a rom-com of being predictable should have their license revoked — of course it’s predictable. So was that action flick, by the way. Oh, didn’t you see it coming that the hero dude was going to save the world? I did.
Unless you’re watching Memento, you just have to accept that most genres are predictable. It’s about execution, not form, but with screwball comedies and rom-coms there’s a general critical consensus that it’s OK to bash them for being exactly what they are (i.e. a set genre with predictable rules). That really pisses me off. Okay, Mr./Mrs. Critic, maybe you’d rather go see a revival of Metropolis at your local arthouse. But right now you’re being paid to review this movie, so don’t be a whiny beyotch about it.
And “guy” comedies (e.g. Knocked Up, Superbad, I Love You, Man) are exactly the same, predictable genre. I’ll even grant you that they’re technically funnier, mostly because the quantity and transgressiveness of the jokes is greater. There’s a complicated set of reasons for this, involving gender, comedy, and socialization. But suffice to say that gendering rom-coms as “chick” entertainment is a relatively recent phenomena and that we’re all socialized to think women are less funny, so I’d really appreciate it if critics would take a little step back when they did their sexist stuff.
Anyway. The generic point of comoedia is integration, no matter how many jokes are made in the middle. That’s why they’re predictable, and that’s, in fact, why they’re comedies.
So can we please stop all the whining about it?
Amanda Krauss is a former professor and current writer/speaker/humor theorist. From 2005-2010 she taught courses on gender, culture, and the history of comedy at Vanderbilt University, and in 2010 was invited to present a course entitled “Humor, Ancient to Modern” at the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. While she is focusing on her current blog (Worst Professor Ever, which satirically chronicles issues of education and lifelong learning) some of her theoretical archives can be found at risatrix.com.

Tropes vs. Women Spotlight

Anita Sarkeesian of the Web site Feminist Frequency, a site that analyzes pop culture from a feminist perspective, recently completed her fabulous, six-part video series on Tropes vs. Women. She explains that, “A trope is a common pattern in a story or a recognizable attribute in a character that conveys information to the audience. A trope becomes a cliche when it’s overused. Sadly, some of these tropes often perpetuate offensive stereotypes.”

I highly recommend watching each of these six videos. Sarkeesian possesses a strong ability to analyze often complicated issues regarding gender roles and the representations of women in film and television, and she breaks things down into more easily understandable ideas. The run time of each video is between five and ten minutes, with many television and movie clips incorporated as examples for the particular trope she’s highlighting. They helped me! Go watch them!

Definition: “The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a cute, bubbly, young (usually white) woman who has recently entered the life of our brooding hero to teach him how to loosen up and enjoy life. While that might sound all well and good for the man, this trope leaves women as simply there to support the star on his journey of self discovery with no real life of her own.”
Example: “You might remember Zooey Deschanel in 500 Days of Summer, the non-committing love interest of the film’s star, Tom Hansen, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. The story follows Tom on his journey of falling in and out of love with Summer Finn. They have the classic Manic Pixie Dream Girl scene where they are frolicking around in the world, and the Manic Pixie teaches the uptight star how to embrace his inner child.” [accompanied by film clip]
Definition: “Women in Refrigerators is a trope identified by comic book fan (and now comic book writer) Gail Simone because she was sick of seeing “superheroines who have been either depowered, raped, or cut up and stuck in the refrigerator.”
Example: “While the Women in Refrigerators trope originated in the comic book genre, it can be applied across other pop culture mediums, such as video games, TV shows, and movies. For example, Libby and Shannon on Lost were murdered specifically to push the story arc of two male characters. Or how about all of these women from Heroes who were depicted as losing or being unable to control their powers.”
Definition: “The Smurfette Principle was named two decades ago by Katha Pollitt, when she noticed that there were a disproportionate amount of male characters in programming aimed at young people. Even in adult programming, when women do appear in the primary cast of a television show or movie, they are usually alone in a group of men. Sadly, this trope has made its way into the 21st century.”
Example: “Down in the 100-acre woods, we follow the adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Rabbit, Piglet, Eeyore, Owl, and Tiger–all dudes of course; in fact, there’s only one female character, Kanga, who shows up occasionally as the mother of little Roo. Even Jim Hensen didn’t seem too keen on the women; alongside Kermit, Gonzo, and Fozzie the Bear, Miss Piggy was the only female muppet. We can even see The Smurfette Principal outside of programming aimed at young people. So, for example, you have George Lucas’ original Star Wars trilogy, where Princess Leia is the only principle female character in the entire galactic empire.”

Definition: “The Evil Demon Seductress is a supernatural creature–usually a demon, alien, robot, vampire, etc.–who is most often disguised as a sexy human female. She uses her sexuality and sexual wiles to manipulate, seduce, kill, and often eat, poor, hapless men by luring them into her evil web.”
Example: “In Star Trek: First Contact, we have the Borg Queen trying to seduce Data. Keanu Reeves is taken advantage of by the Brides of Dracula. And then some years later, in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Giles meets these three sisters. In the science fiction show, Farscape, there’s the villain, Grayza, with her enchanting body sweat. There are the evil mermaids in Pirates of the Caribbean 4. And Mystique in X-Men often fulfills this trope.”

Definition: “The Mystical Pregnancy is a trope writers use to create drama and terror by invading, violating, and exploiting women’s reproductive capabilities. Often these female characters have their ovaries harvested by aliens or serve as human incubators for demon spawn. Sometimes, they are carrying the Messiah, and other times Satan himself.”
Example: “Remember back in the mid-90s on the X-Files when FBI Agent Dana Scully found herself abducted and forcibly impregnated, which, of course, later culminated in a hybrid human-alien child? More recently, on the second season of Battlestar Galactica, Starbuck had her ovaries harvested by the cyclons in an attempt to create human-cyclon embryos. Then we have Gwen Cooper, co-star of the Doctor Who spinoff, Torchwood, who is bitten by an alien one night, and the next morning she wakes up to find herself extremely pregnant with the alien’s spawn.”

Definition: “In television and movies, The Straw Feminist works by deliberately creating an exaggerated caricature of a feminist, which writers then fill with a bunch of oversimplifications, misrepresentations, and stereotypes to try to make it easy to discredit or delegitimize feminism. The goal is to make feminists and our movements look completely ridiculous, over the top, and unnecessary.”
Example: “The Straw Feminist trope is taken to a whole new level in adult animation shows such as South Park or Family Guy. In the episode, “I Am Peter, Hear Me Roar,” the Family Guy writers took a stab at feminist attorney Gloria Allred. Allred is known for taking on high-profile cases defending women who have been assaulted or harassed. In this attack, the Family Guy writers created a character coincidentally named Gloria Ironbox, who brainwashes Peter into thinking he is a woman after he’s accused of sexual assault. The emasculation and feminization of Peter–and his sudden transformation into a feminist–is played for laughs.”

This six-part video series also appeared at Bitch Magazine, and the comment threads–both at Bitch and at Feminist Frequency–always offer excellent discussions of the videos.