Our 3-Year Blogiversary!

Dolly Parton, Lily Tomlin, and Jane Fonda plot their revenge in 9 to 5
Three years of Bitch Flicks! How can it be? Have we done any good? Is the state of women in film any better than it was when we started, on March 28, 2008? Or are we just shouting into the abyss?
Our egos aren’t so big as to think this little ol’ blog would chip away at a machine as big and finely-tuned as Hollywood. However, we see ourselves as part of a growing reaction against conservative, patriarchal values in mainstream film and the lack of women–and especially of diverse women–starring in, directing, writing, producing, and critiquing movies, television, and media in general (check out our “Sites We Like” blogroll for a number of people doing excellent work). We’re (still) sick to death of misogynistic, exploitative, sexist, racist, homophobic, ageist, one-dimensional, etc. portrayals of women in film. We’re (still) sick to death of the reign of the adolescent-male demographic as the coveted Ones. We’re (still) sick to death of being the exception, the Other, the minority, the ignored, the simplistic chicks. 
In other words, we still need Bitch Flicks.
Running a blog is, as those of you who do it yourselves know, difficult and time-consuming work. It’s also often thankless: you don’t make any money, you have to fend off trolls and commenters only interested in personal attacks, and you worry that no one reads that post you spent hours writing. But it’s also very rewarding: you meet people online who share your interests and concerns, you explore ideas that other people help you more fully understand, and you have a venue for fighting back against systems that seem untouchable in everyday life. We’re grateful for all of you who read our pieces, comment on them, link to them and cross post them on your own sites. We’re especially grateful for those of you who have contributed pieces to our site, and expanded the discussion.
Here’s the part where we ask for your help.
We’ve tried to keep Bitch Flicks free from obnoxious, and often offensive, ads (yes, there’s that one Google ad in the sidebar, kept as a mere experiment, as we’ve earned nothing from it)–which means there has been zero revenue to pay for site hosting, guest writers, and upgrades. So we’ve added two ways you can help us pay for these things:
  1. Donate via PayPal. Notice the “Donate” tab at the top right of the page. If you’re a reader who supports what we do, consider donating to the cause. Any amount, however small, is a gesture of support and will help pay for our expenses.
  2. Purchase items through our Amazon store. We sometimes link to products on Amazon in our posts, and have a widget in our sidebar called “Bitch Flicks’ Picks.” If you go on to make purchases through our site, we earn a small percentage of the proceeds, and if it’s an awesome feminist film, TV show, or book–then we all win.

If you support what we do but can’t afford the financial contributions, there are a number of things you can do to show your appreciation and help spread the word about Bitch Flicks.

Finally, a big public thanks to the volunteer who created our new banner. We wanted to re-vamp the look of the site for our blogiversary, and that new banner is the biggest visual change. You might also notice the new pages (not all of which are complete yet!), new sidebar widgets, and new pictures on Twitter & Facebook. There are other new ideas we’ll be implementing in the coming months, so stay tuned, and, as always, thanks for reading!
–Amber & Stephanie

    Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

    Each of the wives deals with the different schools of thought within feminism in ways that roughly align with their ages. The three tell the generational story of feminism, albeit in broad and heavily stereotyped ways.

    What’s interesting about the expressions of feminism is that they are happening within a family structure where the husband/father is at the center as the authority. 

    Of 4,315 adults across the UK who were surveyed, a clear majority believe cinema too often falls back on discredited stereotypes, including sexless older women, drug dealing, oversexualised black people and gay people whose lives are dominated by their sexuality.

    Almost two-thirds of those questioned believe older women are “significantly underrepresented” in films. They are rarely portrayed as sexual beings and are, generally, only given marginal roles, according to the findings, published exclusively in the Guardian today. 

    The Fort Lee Film Commission is sponsoring a symposium next month dedicated to the first female filmmaker in cinema history, Alice Guy Blache, as part of the 2011 Garden State Film Festival (GSFF) in Asbury Park, New Jersey. The symposium, Reel Jersey Girls: Alice Guy to Today–a Century of Women in Film, is a key event, said Fort Lee Film Commission executive director Tom Meyers, at what he calls “the largest annual film festival in the state of New Jersey.”

    Alice Guy Blache, one of the first three filmmakers in France, began directing in the 1890s. In 1912, Blache came to the then motion picture capital of the world, Fort Lee, and built her $100,000 studio, Solax, on Lemoine Ave. There she produced, wrote ad directed hundreds of films, according to Meyers. 

    Whatever the strategy, director Deborah Kampmeier says she hopes that women and men can reach parity in the film industry, because film is so important to our culture. Kampmeier says that “films are the place in society that we really sit around the campfire and tell our stories and make our myths, and really create our future as a society. And 93 percent of those stories are being told by men, and this is a chronic, very unhealthy balance.”

    The Group from Papermag: 

    It’s a really good time to be young, female, funny, smart–and a little bit weird and awkward. Meet the members of Hollywood’s unlikely new in-crowd.

    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.

    Winter’s Bone Q and A from Women and Hollywood: 

    Here’s the Q and A from the Athena Film Festival with Debra Granik, Anne Rosellini and moderated by IndieWIRE’s Anne Thompson of Thompson on Hollywood. 

    Leave your links in the comments.

    In Memoriam: Elizabeth Taylor

    Elizabeth Taylor 1932-2011

     

    As you all likely know by now, Elizabeth Taylor died yesterday from congestive heart failure. There’s not much I can think to say about her that others haven’t said–and likely said better. Here are some highlights of her career as an actress, successful businesswoman, and HIV/AIDS activist.
    • Other awards Taylor won include a BAFTA, a GLAAD Media Vanguard Award, three Golden Globes–including the Cecil B. DeMille Award (one of only twelve women to win since the award’s inception in 1952), a SAG Lifetime Achievement Award, and many others–even a Razzie, for her role in 1994’s The Flintstones.
    • Her first film role was in the film There’s One Born Every Minute, when she was only ten years old, which led to her status as a child star. Adulthood brought her hit after hit, including Cleopatra in 1963, which was the most expensive movie to date with a budget of a million dollars. Her final feature film role was, unfortunately, in The Flintstones, though she appeared on television twice in 2001 and once on stage in 2007.
    I must confess that the only film I’ve ever seen starring Elizabeth Taylor is Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (not even Cleopatra, for shame!), which was amazing. In the past few decades, she’s been more active in business ventures and activism (and, of course, she remains known not only as a classic Hollywood actress, but also for her eight marriages, celebrity friendships, and pricey jewelry collection).
    • Not only did Taylor collect jewelry, but she also designed a successful collection. Her perfume line, which includes Passion, White Diamonds, and Black Pearls, earns roughly 200 million dollars a year. Many celebrities followed in her footsteps, creating signature fragrances as part of their branding initiatives.
    • Perhaps her most lasting legacy, other than her acting, is her HIV/AIDS activism. She raised over 100 million dollars to fight the disease, helped found the American Foundation for AIDS Research, and founded The Elizabeth Taylor HIV/AIDS Foundation.  

    This isn’t, by any means, an exhaustive list of her accomplishments and influence. Check out her obit at the New York Times and the interactive media imbedded within, including a clip from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and leave your links to Elizabeth Taylor related pieces in the comments.

    Guest Writer Wednesday: The Blind Side: The Most Insulting Movie Ever Made

    This cross-post first appeared at Rage Against the Man-chine on June 11, 2010.
    Davetavius and I consider ourselves the world’s foremost authorities on watching movies for reasons other than those intended by their producers. As such, we go way beyond just watching “cheesy” (whatever that means) movies, 80s movies, or kung fu movies (which I refuse to watch but which every dork on Earth has been pretending to like in some attempt at letting everyone know how “weird” they are since Quentin Tarantino’s ridiculous ass popularized kung fu movie fandom as the #1 route to instant eccentricity cred in True Romance) to focus our attention on recently-released romantic comedies, those obnoxious movies in which two assholes just sit around and talk to each other for 98 minutes, and “serious” movies for which people have been given gold-plated statuettes. One can learn an awful lot about the faults and failings of our social system and corporate entertainment’s attempts to sell us its version of culture by watching movies created by and for the anti-intelligentsia, and if one were to try hard enough, I’m sure one could find the string that, if tugged, would unravel the modern world system buried somewhere in a melodramatic Best Picture Oscar contender intended to make people who refer to beers as “cold ones” feel like they’re considering The Big Issues. There was no way we were going to miss The Blind Side.
    Spoiler alert: this is the worst movie I’ve ever seen, and I’m going to spoil your desire to see it yourself by writing this post. Also, I may, if I can manage to give a fuck, divulge important plot elements. But it’s based on a true story that everyone has already heard anyway, so who cares.

    Let me say up front that I’m aware that I’m supposed to feel sorry for Sandra Bullock this week. She’s purported to be “America’s sweetheart” and all, she has always seemed like a fairly decent person (for an actor), and I think her husband deserves to get his wang run over by one of his customized asshole conveyance vehicles, but I’m finding it difficult to feel too bad. I mean, who marries a guy who named himself after a figure from the Old West, has more tattoos than IQ points, and is known for his penchant for rockabilly strippers? Normally I’d absolve Bullock of all responsibility for what has occurred and spend nine paragraphs illustrating the many reasons Jesse James doesn’t deserve to live, but I’ve just received proof in the form of a movie called The Blind Side that Sandra Bullock is in cahoots with Satan, Ronald Reagan’s cryogenically preserved head, the country music industry, and E! in their plot to take over the world by turning us all into (or helping some of us to remain) smug, racist imbeciles.

    The movie chronicles the major events in the life of a black NFL player named Michael Oher from the time he meets the rich white family who adopts him to the time that white family sees him drafted into the NFL, a series of events that apparently proves that racism is either over or OK (I’m not sure which), with a ton of southern football bullshit along the way. Bullock plays Leigh Anne Tuohy, the wife of a dude named Sean Tuohy, played by — no shit — Tim McGraw, who is a fairly minor character in the movie despite the fact that he is said to own, like, 90 Taco Bell franchises. The story is that Oher, played by Quinton Aaron, is admitted into a fancy-pants private Christian school despite his lack of legitimate academic records due to the insistence of the school’s football coach and the altruism of the school’s teachers (as if, dude), where he comes into contact with the Tuohy family, who begin to notice that he is sleeping in the school gym and subsisting on popcorn. Ms. Tuohy then invites him to live in the zillion-dollar Memphis Tuophy family compound, encourages him to become the best defensive linebacker he can be by means of cornball familial love metaphors, and teaches him about the nuclear family and the SEC before beaming proudly as he’s drafted by the Baltimore Ravens.

    I’m sure that the Tuohy family are lovely people and that they deserve some kind of medal for their good deeds, but if I were a judge, I wouldn’t toss them out of my courtroom should they arrive there bringing a libel suit against whoever wrote, produced, and directed The Blind Side, because it’s handily the dumbest, most racist, most intellectually and politically insulting movie I’ve ever seen, and it makes the Tuohy family — especially their young son S.J. — look like unfathomable assholes. Well, really, it makes all of the white people in the South look like unfathomable assholes. Like these people need any more bad publicity.

    Quentin Aaron puts in a pretty awesome performance, if what the director asked him to do was look as pitiful as possible at every moment in order not to scare anyone by being black. Whether that was the goal or not, he certainly did elicit pity from me when Sandra Bullock showed him his new bed and he knitted his brows and, looking at the bed in awe, said, “I’ve never had one of these before.” I mean, the poor bastard had been duped into participating in the creation of a movie that attempts to make bigoted southerners feel good about themselves by telling them that they needn’t worry about poverty or racism because any black person who deserves help will be adopted by a rich family that will provide them with the means to a lucrative NFL contract. Every interaction Aaron and Bullock (or Aaron and anyone else, for that matter) have in the movie is characterized by Aaron’s wretched obsequiousness and the feeling that you’re being bludgeoned over the head with the message that you needn’t fear this black guy. It’s the least dignified role for a black actor since Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s portrayal of James Robert Kennedy in Radio (a movie Davetavius claims ought to have the subtitle “It’s OK to be black in the South as long as you’re retarded.”). The producers, writers, and director of this movie have managed to tell a story about class, race, and the failures of capitalism and “democratic” politics to ameliorate the conditions poor people of color have to deal with by any means other than sports while scrupulously avoiding analyzing any of those issues and while making it possible for the audience to walk out of the theater with their selfish, privileged, entitled worldviews intact, unscathed, and soundly reconfirmed.

    Then there’s all of the southern bullshit, foremost of which is the football element. The producers of the movie purposely made time for cameos by about fifteen SEC football coaches in order to ensure that everyone south of the Mason-Dixon line would drop their $9 in the pot, and the positive representation of football culture in the film is second in phoniness only to the TV version of Friday Night Lights. Actually, fuck that. It’s worse. Let’s be serious. If this kid had showed no aptitude for football, is there any way in hell he’d have been admitted to a private school without the preparation he’d need to succeed there or any money? In the film, the teachers at the school generously give of their private time to tutor Oher and help prepare him to attend classes with the other students. I’ll bet you $12 that shit did not occur in real life. In fact, I know it didn’t. The Tuohy family may or may not have cared whether the kid could play football, but the school certainly did. It is, after all, a southern school, and high school football is a bigger deal in the South than weed is at Bonnaroo.

    But what would have happened to Oher outside of school had he sucked at football and hence been useless to white southerners? What’s the remedy for poverty if you’re a black woman? A dude with no pigskin skills? Where are the nacho magnates to adopt those black people? I mean, that’s the solution for everything, right? For all black people to be adopted by rich, paternalistic white people? I know this may come as a shock to some white people out there, but the NFL cannot accommodate every black dude in America, and hence is an imperfect solution to social inequality. I know we have the NBA too, but I still see a problem. But the Blind Side fan already has an answer for me. You see, there is a scene in the movie which illustrates that only some black people deserve to be adopted by wealthy white women. Bullock, when out looking for Oher, finds herself confronted with a black guy who not only isn’t very good at appearing pitiful in order to make her comfortable, but who has an attitude and threatens to shoot Oher if he sees him. What ensues is quite possibly the most loathsome scene in movie history in which Sandra Bullock gets in the guy’s face, rattles off the specs of the gun she carries in her purse, and announces that she’s a member of the NRA and will shoot his ass if he comes anywhere near her family, “bitch.” Best Actress Oscar.

    Well, there it is. Now you see why this movie made 19 kajillion dollars and won an Oscar: it tells a heartwarming tale of white benevolence, assures the red state dweller that his theory that “there’s black people, and then there’s niggers” is right on, and affords him the chance to vicariously remind a black guy who’s boss thr0ugh the person of America’s sweetheart. Just fucking revolting.

    There are several other cringe-inducing elements in the film. The precocious, cutesy antics of the family’s little son, S.J., for example. He’s constantly making dumb-ass smart-ass comments, cloyingly hip-hopping out with Oher to the tune of  Young M.C.’s “Bust a Move” (a song that has been overplayed and passe for ten years but has now joined “Ice Ice Baby” at the top of the list of songs from junior high that I never want to hear again), and generally trying to be a much more asshole-ish version of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. At what point will screenwriters realize that everyone wants to punch pint-sized snarky movie characters in the throat? And when will I feel safe watching a movie in the knowledge that I won’t have to endure a scene in which a white dork or cartoon character “raises the roof” and affects a buffalo stance while mouthing a sanitized rap song that even John Ashcroft knows the words to?

    And then there’s the scene in which Tim McGraw, upon meeting his adopted son’s tutor (played by Kathy Bates) and finding out she’s a Democrat, says, “Who would’ve thought I’d have a black son before I met a Democrat?” Who would have thought I’d ever hear a “joke” that was less funny and more retch-inducing than Bill Engvall’s material?

    What was the intended message of this film? It won an Oscar, so I know it had to have a message, but what could it have been? I’ve got it (a suggestion from Davetavius)! The message is this: don’t buy more than one Taco Bell franchise or you’ll have to adopt a black guy. I’ll accept that that’s the intended message of the film, because if  the actual message that came across in the movie was intentional, I may have to hide in the house for the rest of my life.

    I just don’t even know what to say about this movie. Watching it may well have been one of the most demoralizing, discouraging experiences of my life, and it removed at least 35% of the hope I’d previously had that this country had any hope of ever being anything but a cultural and social embarrassment. Do yourself a favor. Skip it and watch Welcome to the Dollhouse again.

    Nine Deuce blogs at Rage Against the Man-chine. From her bio: I basically go off, dude. People all over the internet call me rad. They call me fem, too, but I’m not all that fem. I mean, I’m female and I have long hair and shit, but that’s just because I’m into Black Sabbath. I don’t have any mini-skirts, high heels, thongs, or lipstick or anything, and I often worry people with my decidedly un-fem behavior. I’m basically a “man” trapped in a woman’s body. What I mean is that, like a person with a penis, I act like a human being and expect other people to treat me like one even though I have a vagina.

    Miniseries Preview: Mildred Pierce

    Mildred Pierce, the new miniseries from HBO starring Kate Winslet, Evan Rachel Wood, and Guy Pearce, premieres Sunday, March 27th at 9pm. The miniseries is based on the novel by James M. Cain, with a hat-tip, I’m sure, to the 1945 film of the same name, which won Joan Crawford a Best Actress Academy Award for her performance in the title role. 
    From the wikipedia plot summary (of the novel): 
    Set in Glendale, California, in the 1930s, Mildred Pierce is the story of a middle-class housewife’s attempt to maintain her and her family’s social position during the Great Depression. Frustrated by her unemployed cheating husband, and worried by their dwindling finances, Mildred separates from him and sets out to support herself and her children on her own.

    After a difficult search, she finally finds a job as a waitress, but she worries that it is beneath her middle-class station. Actually, Mildred worries more that her ambitious elder daughter, Veda, will think her new job is demeaning. Mildred encounters both success and tragedy, opening three successful restaurants and operating a pie-selling business, and coping with the death of her younger daughter, Ray. Veda enjoys Mildred’s newfound financial success, but increasingly turns ungrateful, demanding more and more from her hard-working mother and letting her contempt for people who must work for a living be known. Mildred’s attachment to Veda forms the central tragedy in the novel. 

    The miniseries has been getting great reviews. Dan Callahan of Slant Magazine writes:
    …Mildred Pierce is a triumph from beginning to end, and the casting in supporting roles couldn’t be bettered: Melissa Leo does her best Aline MacMahon as Mildred’s next-door neighbor Mrs. Gessler, while Mare Winningham seems to have sprung straight out of a 1930s diner as Ida (in the Crawford version, the sardonic Eve Arden played Ida like a valued secretary doing a bit of slumming in the restaurant trade). Haynes lets his female characters operate as they would have at the time in this milieu. He doesn’t do any modern editorializing on their plight and he doesn’t outright celebrate their resourcefulness; instead, he sets up a panorama of female struggle and solidarity and views it distantly, like somebody writing a history book and trying to keep personal opinions out of it.

    And Dennis Lim of the New York Times discusses Todd Haynes’s affinity for “the woman’s picture”:
    Asked recently about his longstanding attraction to the melodramatic form known as the woman’s picture–“the untouchable of film genres,” as the critic Molly Haskell once put it–the director Todd Haynes had a ready answer.

    “Stories about women in houses are the real stories of our lives,” he said. “They really tell what all of us experience in one way or another because they’re stories of family and love and basic relationships and disappointments.”

    Lim later writes: 

    Framed as a whodunit–it opens with the killing of Mildred’s second husband, the rakish Monty Beragon–the original “Mildred Pierce” has long been a staple of feminist film theory, which generally views it as a conflicted genre hybrid that combines the masculine conventions of film noir and the feminine ones of melodrama.

    I haven’t seen the Joan Crawford film or read the book, but I’m aware of the feminist and queer discussions of the first film. I’m excited that HBO has decided to turn this into a five-part miniseries, too, because I’m starting to wonder (especially after reading Total Film’s ridiculous list of the Greatest Female Characters) if television might offer more opportunity for complex women–and feminist–characters to shine. (I’ve been thinking about HBO shows in particular, like Big Love, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, and Deadwood, but Showtime certainly doesn’t shy away from strong women, with shows like Nurse Jackie and The United States of Tara, which both have season premieres on Monday, the 28th. I also wouldn’t rule out the latest season of Dexter–because it took on some serious feminist issues as well. But, alas, this is all for another long-ass blog post.) 
    In the meantime, here’s to hoping Mildred Pierce doesn’t disappoint! 

    Documentary Review: Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work

    Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (2010)

    Most reviews of the documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work begin by describing how the film opens–with a close-up shot of Rivers’ face, without make-up. This is, of course, a metaphor for the goal of the film (to get behind the facade) and an acknowledgment of  what Rivers has come to be most famous for–her surgically-altered appearance. While her face is surely a piece of surgical work, the far more fascinating work is that of her long life in the spotlight, and her drive to keep going, keep performing, keep selling, when the culture tells her she should stop (or that she should have stopped long ago).
    I went into this film feeling ambivalent. On the one hand, it’s a documentary about an extraordinary woman, made by two women–Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg, who are known for their previous films The End of America, The Devil Came on Horseback, and the forthcoming Burma Soldier, among others. It’s about a mouthy broad (and I love mouthy broads, women who speak their minds and aren’t afraid to put themselves out there), who is funny, and who has been at it since 1966. On the other hand, it’s yet another film about a wealthy white woman (I just watched and reviewed The September Issue, about Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour) who lives like “Marie Antoinette, if she’d have had money.” Though I enjoy most of her comedy, I–like many others–had come to see her primarily through her surgically-altered appearance, her anything-for-a-buck business approach (A comedy icon selling jewelry on QVC? Starring on Celebrity Apprentice?), and her less-than-feminist years hosting the red carpet.

    Watching the film, however, gave me a new appreciation for Rivers–even while not sharing a number of her perspectives. A Piece of Work documents a year in Rivers’ life: she turns 75, faces down a heckler at a stand-up show in Wisconsin, honors George Carlin in a tribute, gets roasted by Comedy Central, and injects new life into her career by winning Celebrity Apprentice. All while still selling that damn jewelry. Her energy level is astounding, and I wonder how she manages to do all she does at the age of 75.

    Rivers is an odd character. Being a superstar female comic alone is odd in the U.S.–only a few came before her–but we get a very real look at her life, at the troubles she has faced  (her husband’s suicide) and continues to face, and at the loneliness that certainly helps her drive to fill her daily calendar. She is vulnerable and still nervous when going on stage, especially when pursuing what she calls the one sacred part of her life–her acting–in which she hasn’t seen a lot of personal success. I came to find her more compelling and interesting than my initial perception of her, and encourage anyone to see this film and learn more about a woman who refuses to stop.

    Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

    Creator of The Wire issues heartfelt critique of the “war on drugs” from Feministing

    Last week, actress Felicia Pearson, who plays “Snoop” on The Wire, was arrested as part of a major drug raid that included 30 people. While this is certainly disappointing news, because I think a lot of people are rooting for her success after her involvement with the show, I was particularly struck by the reaction of David Simon, creator and executive producer of The Wire and Pearson’s colleague.

    A History of (Firsts) for Women and Film from The Film Experience

    First woman to receive an honorary regular-sized Oscar: Greta Garbo in 1954. Yep, after 20 or so men had been given one. After another 15 or so men were given non-competitive statues the next woman was Onna White for choreographing Oliver! (1968).

    The ratio continues this way: 1970s men: 14; women: 3; 1980s men: 8; women: 1; 1990s men: 9;women: 3; 2000s men 12: women: 1; This year men: 3; women: 0; What the hell is AMPAS’s problem with women, exactly?

    Interview with Sherry Hormann, Director of Desert Flower from Women and Hollywood

    Desert Flower opens this Friday in NY and LA.  It stars Liya Kebede as Waris Dirie, a woman who escaped from Somalia and became a top fashion model and UN spokeswoman against female genital mutilation.  Director Sherry Hormann answered some questions about the film.

    I Love Lucy: Radical Feminist Propaganda? from Against All Evidence 

    Ricky: All people in the world are divided into two groups… men and women.

    Lucy: [sarcastically] I know. It’s a wonderful arrangement.

    Ricky: Now. Men have short hair, and women have long hair. That’s the difference between them.

    Lucy: Oh?

    Icons of Black Female Empowerment from The Root

    From Diana Ross to Lena Horne to Queen Latifah, black women in pop culture have defied the odds, inspired and awed their fans. In honor of Women’s History Month, we’ve put together a list of some of the icons of black female empowerment.

    March Movies I Won’t Be Seeing (And One I Might) from The Funny Feminist

    First up is Sucker Punch, starring a bunch of life-sized Bratz dolls:

    Summary: A group of girls escape from an insane asylum where they have been imprisoned against their will, kicking ass and taking names on the way!  They also happen to be wearing next to nothing while they do this, but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence, right?

    The Feministing Five: Anita Sarkeesian from Feministing

    Anita Sarkeesian is the founder of the fabulous blog and video series Feminist Frequency, where she analyzes depictions of gender in pop culture in an accessible, entertaining way. Sarkeesian believes that popular culture is a powerful force, one that can shape how we think about the world, and that it even though it can seem silly, it deserves serious analysis: she wrote her master’s thesis on representations on strong women in scifi and fantasy television.

    Why I Am a Male Feminist from The Root

    The word turns off a lot of men (insert snarky comment about man-hating feminazis here) — and women. But here’s why black men should be embracing the “f” word.

    Leave links to what you’ve read and written this week about women and film!

    Seriously? These Are the 100 Greatest Female Characters?

    This past Monday, Total Film published its list of the 100 Greatest Female Characters. As everyone knows, these Best Ever lists tend to have the pretty obvious problem of not being able to include everyone and, therefore, not being able to please everyone. But we here at Bitch Flicks found this particular list more problematic than usual. For a variety of reasons. Before we discuss the WTF-FAIL of this, check out the list below and/or scroll through the photo-list at Total Film (especially if you’re interested in their use of sexist language and images).

    100. Baby from Dirty Dancing, played by Jennifer Grey
    99. Cherry Darling from Planet Terror, played by Rose McGowan
    98. Vivian Ward from Pretty Woman, played by Julia Roberts
    97. Samantha Baker from Sixteen Candles, played by Molly Ringwald
    96. Stifler’s Mom from American Pie, played by Jennifer Coolidge
    95. Layla from Buffalo ’66, played by Christina Ricci
    94. Marquise de Merteuil from Dangerous Liaisons, played by Glenn Close
    93. Karen Silkwood from Silkwood, played by Meryl Streep
    92. Marnie Edgar from Marnie, played by Tippi Hedren
    91. Briony Tallis from Atonement, played by Saoirse Ronan
    90. Gertie from E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, played by Drew Barrymore
    89. Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca, played by Judith Anderson
    88. Jean Brodie from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, played by Maggie Smith
    87. Malena Scordia from Malena, played by Monica Bellucci
    86. Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors, voiced by Levi Stubbs
    85. Gilda Mundson Farrell from Gilda, played by Rita Hayworth
    84. Matty Walker from Body Heat, played by Kathleen Turner
    83. Annie Savoy from Bull Durham, played by Susan Sarandon
    82. Severine Serizy from Belle Du Jour, played by Catherine Deneuve
    81. Gloria Swenson from Gloria, played by Gena Rowlands
    80. Catherine Tramell from Basic Instinct, played by Sharon Stone
    79. Phyllis Dietrichson from Double Indemnity, played by Barbara Stanwyck
    78. Bess McNeill from Breaking the Waves, played by Emily Watson
    77. Thelma Dickinson from Thelma and Louise, played by Geena Davis
    76. Alabama Whitman from True Romance, played by Patricia Arquette
    75. Coraline from Coraline, voiced by Dakota Fanning
    74. Annie Porter from Speed, played by Sandra Bullock
    73. Kate “Ma” Barker from Bloody Mama, played by Shelley Winters
    72. Marge Gunderson from Fargo, played by Frances McDormand
    71. Elisabet Vogler from Persona, played by Liv Ullmann
    70. Sally Albright from When Harry Met Sally, played by Meg Ryan
    69. Bonnie Parker from Bonnie and Clyde, played by Faye Dunaway
    68. Ada McGrath from The Piano, played by Holly Hunter
    67. Soshanna Dreyfus from Inglourious Basterds, played by Melanie Laurent
    66. Alice Hyatt from Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, played by Ellen Burstyn
    65. Lee Holloway from Secretary, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal
    64. Barbarella from Barbarella, played by Jane Fonda
    63. Annie Wilkes from Misery, played by Kathy Bates
    62. Sylvia from La Dolce Vita, played by Anika Ekberg
    61. Regan MacNeil from The Exorcist, played by Linda Blair
    60. Mary Poppins from Mary Poppins, played by Julie Andrews
    59. Mildred Pierce from Mildred Pierce, played by Joan Crawford
    58. Margo Channing from All About Eve, played by Bette Davis
    57. Adrian Pennino Balboa from Rocky, played by Talia Shire
    56. Nikita from La Femme Nikita, played by Anne Parillaud
    55. “Baby” Jane Hudson from Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, played by Bette Davis
    54. Summer Finn from 500 Days of Summer, played by Zooey Deschanel
    53. Judy Barton/Madeleine Elster from Vertigo, played by Kim Novak
    52. Debby Marsh from The Big Heat, played by Gloria Grahame
    51. Amelie from Amelie, played by Audrey Tautou
    50. Jessie from Toy Story 2, voiced by Joan Cusack
    49. Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, played by Louise Fletcher
    48. Alex Forrest from Fatal Attraction, played by Glenn Close
    47. Evelyn Mulwray from Chinatown, played by Faye Dunaway
    46. Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire, played by Vivien Leigh
    45. Paikea Apirana from Whale Rider, played by Keisha Castle-Hughes
    44. Charlotte from Lost In Translation, played by Scarlett Johansen
    43. Ofelia from Pan’s Labyrinth, played by Ivan Baquero
    42. Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums, played by Gwyneth Paltrow
    41. Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, played by Audrey Hepburn
    40. Mindy “Hit Girl” Macready from Kick-Ass, played by Chloe Moretz
    39. Chihiro Ogino from Spirited Away, voiced by Rumi Hiragi
    38. Mia Williams from Fish Tank, played by Katie Jarvis
    37. Jessica Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, voiced by Kathleen Turner
    36. Older Daughter from Dogtooth, played by Aggeliki Papoulia
    35. Ursa from Superman II, played by Sarah Douglas
    34. Ann Darrow from King Kong, played by Fay Wray
    33. Betty Elms/Diane Selwyn from Mulholland Dr., played by Naomi Watts
    32. Scarlett O’Hara from Gone With the Wind, played by Vivien Leigh
    31. Coffy from Coffy, played by Pam Grier
    30. Kym from Rachel Getting Married, played by Anne Hathaway
    29. Trinity from The Matrix, played by Carrie-Anne Moss
    28. Lady from Lady and the Tramp, voiced by Barbara Luddy
    27. Louise Sawyer from Thelma and Louise, played by Susan Sarandon
    26. Nina Sayers from Black Swan, played by Natalie Portman
    25. Enid from Ghost World, played by Thora Birch
    24. Rosemary Woodhouse from Rosemary’s Baby, played by Mia Farrow
    23. Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate, played by Anne Bancroft
    22. Dory from Finding Nemo, voiced by Ellen Degeneres
    21. Veronica Sawyer from Heathers, played by Winona Ryder
    20. Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, played by Uma Thurman
    19. Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs, played by Jodie Foster
    18. Laurie Strode from Halloween, played by Jamie Lee Curtis
    17. Carrie White from Carrie, played by Sissy Spacek
    16. Bridget Gregory from The Last Seduction, played by Linda Fiorentino
    15. Catwoman from Batman Returns, played by Michelle Pfeiffer
    14. Matilda from The Professional, played by Natalie Portman
    13. Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, played by Noomi Rapace
    12. Jackie Brown from Jackie Brown, played by Pam Grier
    11. Eli from Let the Right One In, played by Lina Leandersson
    10. Sugar Kane Kowalczyk from Some Like It Hot, played by Marilyn Monroe
    9. Hildy Johnson from His Girl Friday, played by Rosalind Russell
    8. The Bride from Kill Bill, played by Uma Thurman
    7. Hermione Granger from Harry Potter, played by Emma Watson
    6. Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz, played by Judy Garland
    5. Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars, played by Carrie Fisher
    4. Clementine Kruczynski from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, played by Kate Winslet
    3. Sarah Connor from The Terminator, played by Linda Hamilton
    2. Annie Hall from Annie Hall, played by Diane Keaton
    1. Ellen Ripley from Alien, played by Sigourney Weaver

    Well. Let’s discuss the most ridiculous, WTF-FAIL elements of this list.
    1. 7% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters are–wait for it–not human. We’ve got Audrey 2 the plant; Coraline the cartoon girl; Jessie the cartoon cowgirl; Chihiro Ogino the cartoon girl; Jessica Rabbit the (sexy) cartoon rabbit; Lady the dog; and Dory the fish. And only three of these seven Greatest Female Characters are even animated humans. The rest are animals. And one, the plant, is voiced by a man. 
    2. Only 5% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters were directed by women, and that includes a co-director credit (Andy and Lana Wachowski) for The Matrix. The other woman-directed films include Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, Jane Campion’s The Piano, Niki Caro’s Whale Rider, and Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation. Maybe I shouldn’t be so appalled by this statistic, considering how difficult it is for women directors to get their films made in general. But seriously, 5%?
    3. What’s up with all the children and teenagers on this list? Am I really supposed to believe that, in the history of film, 20% of the Greatest Female Characters were younger than twenty? I know ageism in Hollywood is bad, but that doesn’t mean amazing women characters over forty don’t exist. And I mean in addition to Stifler’s Mom (MILF!) from American Pie, who Total Film so graciously remembered to include. Just sayin,’ list compilers, if you were really hard-pressed, you could’ve checked to see if any women of color have ever acted in films.
    4. Why is this list so fucking white? I’m not familiar with every movie or every movie character on the list, but I know I’m having a hard time finding nonwhite women. Pam Grier’s two blaxploitation characters, Jackie Brown and Coffy, jump out right away, and I’m fairly confident that’s not a good thing. Is Pam Grier the only black actress the Total Film list compilers are familiar with? Because, I mean, off the top of my head I’ve got: Whoopi Goldberg in The Color Purple, Queen Latifah in Chicago, Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls, Angela Bassett in What’s Love Got to Do With It?, Halle Berry in anything …
    5. You know what’s also interesting about those characters I just listed? None of them is completely deranged (Mrs. Danvers, Annie Wilkes, Alex Forrest.)  Or a prostitute (Vivian Ward, Severine Serizy, Alabama Whitman.)  Or a Fighting Fuck Toy (Barbarella, Catwoman, Cherry Darling.) Or a seductress (Marquise de Merteuil, Matty Walker, Annie Savoy.) And I’m not even suggesting that prostitutes and deranged women and seductresses and fighting fuck toys (okay, maybe them) are all necessarily terrible characters. But many of these characters, and the films they inhabit, have been deemed antifeminist as fuck.  
    Basically, compiling a slew of antifeminist characters from antifeminist films and putting them on a list called The 100 Greatest Female Characters–while ironic–is kind of unacceptable. I’ve only barely grazed the surface of this nonsense. If you want to see some really messed up statistics surrounding this list, check out The Double R Diner for a much more in-depth analysis, including a look at the many characters who are victims of violence and sexual assault. 

    So, readers, what female characters would you include on a list of the 100 Greatest?

    Guest Writer Wednesday: The Girl Who Played with Fire

    Good Girl Gone Bad: Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander Burns Up the Screen in The Girl Who Played with Fire
    This is a cross post from Opinioness of the World.
    I’ve been utterly consumed by Swedish author Stieg Larsson’s gripping Millennium Trilogy (I’ll be reading the third book soon…so excited!).  I loved the first film, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, entranced by the burning intensity of the controversial heroine, Lisbeth Salander.  So I eagerly watched the second film in the series, The Girl Who Played with Fire.
    Picking up one year after the first film ends, a young journalist and a doctoral student are researching the sex trafficking trade in Sweden.  Publisher and journalist Mikael Blomkvist’s magazine Millennium decides to publish the controversial work, essentially exposing the identities of the men who purchased young women for sex.  As they are about to go to print with the story, three violent murders are committed.  When the police suspect brilliant hacker Lisbeth Salander’s involvement, Blomkvist is determined to clear her name.  But Salander plots her own vengeful agenda against her enemies, plunging the audience even deeper into the mysterious heroine’s troubled and painful past.
    I enjoyed the gritty, tense film.  With a different screenwriter and director at the helm, the movie surprisingly retains the same mood as the first film yet not the same depth.  Director Daniel Alfredson provides some visually stunning camera shots.  The ominous and eerie score perfectly sets the suspenseful tone.  Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t live up to the riveting novel.  So much of what I loved about the book is missing as an exorbitant amount of the plot and dialogue are cut from the movie.
    The beauty of Larsson’s books lies in his fusion of societal analysis with compelling characters and gripping suspenseful plots.  In The Girl Who Played with Fire, he focuses his commentary on human trafficking, mental health care, espionage, LGBT discrimination and domestic violence.  Regarding the central theme of trafficking in the book, the young journalist Dag Svensson goes into great detail about the johns and researcher Mia Bergman provides the point of views of the women trafficked as she relays their harrowing tales.  According to Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn in their book Half the Sky, 3 million women and girls are forced into prostitution, as many traffickers coerce, beat and rape women into submission.  As with sexual assault in the first novel, Larsson gives you a sense of the horrors these women face.  But this and other vital themes are completely glossed over in the film.
    Part of what makes the book so captivating is that it’s a whodunit; you feel as if you’ve stepped into an episode of Law and Order: SVU (I kept waiting for Mariska Hargitay and Chris Meloni to leap out and bust the perps).  The police investigation into the murders comprises a huge component of the story.  The plot twists and turns and you don’t know the identity of the killer or killers.  Salander’s involvement is ambiguous, as the book doesn’t follow her whereabouts for roughly 100 pages following the murders.  But the film basically tells you right up front, forgoing most of the mystery.
    By its end, the movie (and book too) spirals into a violent frenzy, reminiscent of a slasher film with SPOILER ALERT!! characters wielding axes and chainsaws, along with numerous dead bodies buried outside a warehouse and someone buried alive.  Ending on a cliff hanger, it leaves us yearning to know the characters’ fate.
    Anything lacking in the film, is made up for by the outstanding performances of the two powerful leads.  While he gave a solid performance in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I kept yearning for more emotion from actor Michael Nyqvist as the impassioned journalist Mikael Blomkvist.  In The Girl Who Played with Fire, he delivers, bringing Blomkvist’s obstinate and obsessive compulsion to solve the murders to life.  Devoted to Salander, his former research partner and lover, Blomkvist races to piece together the puzzle of the murders.  Nyqvist captures the essence of Blomkvist’s stubborn optimism and charisma.
    But the spotlight still belongs to actor Noomi Rapace.  While she blew me (and numerous other critics) away with her performance in the first film, I am even more impressed with Rapace as the tattooed researcher Lisbeth Salander this time around.  She stepped into the role through physical training, 7 facial piercings and obtaining her motorcycle license.  Yet she also emotionally transformed herself.  In an interview, Rapace said that she would sit alone, away from the cast and crew, channeling Salander’s anger. Rapace effortlessly evokes Salander’s shrewd intellect, stubbornness and wrath.  We also get to see Salander’s tenderness in her scenes with her trusted former guardian Holmer Palmgren and her lover Miriam “Mimmi” Wu.  She doesn’t have a lot of dialogue, a challenge for an actor, yet Rapace lets us into the wounded character’s world through her subtle yet stellar portrayal.
    Lisbeth Salander has generated an enormous amount of press.  It’s unusual to see a female character exude such ferocity.  Usually when we see violence from women in films, they are subordinate to a male counterpart or lover, re-articulating gendered stereotypes. But not Lisbeth.  An unlikely feminist, she despises misogyny, yearning for fair and equal treatment of women.  Salander refuses to be a victim after her own sexual assault.  Despite her pained and troubled childhood, she never wallows in self-pity.  Salander follows her own moral code, wreaking vengeance on those who have abused her with little regard to the law.  She takes responsibility and accepts the consequences of her actions.  Some may argue that she’s not feminine enough, acting like a male disguised in a female form.  But I think that ignores what makes Salander so refreshing.  Self-reliant and clever, she’s a resilient survivor, never backing down from a fight.  A fascinating and fearless character, she is defined neither by her gender nor her fluid sexuality.
    While not living up to the book or the first film, it’s still worthwhile to watch for the phenomenal performances by Rapace and Nyqvist.  Each of them truly embodies their alter egos.  Rapace in particular mesmerizes with a smoldering strength.   I cannot wait to see (and read) what happens next in the third installment, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest.

    Megan Kearns is a blogger, freelance writer and activist. A feminist vegan, Megan blogs at The Opinioness of the World. She earned her B.A. in Anthropology and Sociology and a Graduate Certificate in Women and Politics and Public Policy. She lives in Boston. She has previously contributed reviews of The Kids Are All Right and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo to Bitch Flicks.

    Quote of the Day: Jennifer L. Pozner

    Reality Bites Back: the Troubling Truth about Guilty Pleasure TV by Jennifer L. Pozner (Seal Press)

    While there are huge swaths of this book I’d like to quote, I’ve chosen a passage from the chapter “Unraveling Reality TV’s Twisted Fairytales: Cinderellas and Cautionary Tales,” which focuses on reality dating programs (such as The Bachelor). It’s often simple to dismiss such programming, but like all media, these programs do significant work in cultural norming, and we don’t always understand how powerful the messages are.

    On fairytale imagery:

    For women, these representations conjure our earliest memories–of the stories our parents read to us before bed, of the cartoons that danced in our imaginations, telling us what we could (and should) look forward to when we grew up. No matter how independent we might be as adults, how cynical we consider ourselves, or how hard we’ve worked to silence external cultural conditioning, decades of sheer repetition make it extremely difficult to fully purge societal standards from our psyches. Simply put, it’s damn near impossible to live completely outside the culture, no matter how well we try to shield ourselves from its impact.

    […]

    Regardless of where we fall on this continuum–from conscious refusal to let childish notions inform our love lives to enthusiastic embrace of fantasies we’ve nursed since we were little girls–producers play on these deep-seated ideas about gender, love, and romance for ratings. This, in part, is what Mike Darnell was talking about when he told Entertainment Weekly that the secret to airing a successful reality TV show is to create a premise that is “steeped in some social belief.” And, as we’ll soon see, similar stereotypes about race, class, beauty, and sexual orientation are endemic, even necessary, to reality TV–in all its forms.

    I believe that media literacy is the education issue of our time. While many people are cynically aware that they’re being sold products in television–through both traditional advertising and product placement–they’re less savvy about the ideas and cultural norms being sold to them. As Pozner points out, it’s the “sheer repetition” of the regressive ideas and images in reality TV that has a lasting effect on our views of women, in particular.
    I highly recommend reading–and purchasing–Pozner’s Reality Bites Back. It’s a fantastic book, very teachable (if you’re a teacher-type), and published by Seal Press, which prints books by women and for women.

    On Rape, the Media, and the ‘New York Times’ Clusterfuck

    the-new-york-times1
    On Tuesday, March 8, The New York Times published an article by James C. McKinley Jr. titled, “Vicious Assault Shakes Texas Town.” Eighteen men held down an 11-year-old girl and repeatedly raped her in an abandoned trailer while recording the rape with cell phones. Much has been written about McKinley’s—and the New York Times’—irresponsible, victim-blaming, rape culture-enforcing report of the rape.  Or should I say lack of report of the rape. While the entire article is a catastrophic joke, this paragraph warrants specific mention:
    Residents in the neighborhood where the abandoned trailer stands—known as the Quarters—said the victim had been visiting various friends there for months. They said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.
    Shakesville breaks down the story, and it’s a must-read piece. The writer points out, “Nowhere in this story is the following made clear: … that our compassion and care should be directed first and foremost toward the victim rather than the boys, the school, the community, or anyone else.”  The NYT piece is such an obvious case of victim-blaming, and terrifyingly unapologetic, that it wasn’t surprising to see an immediate petition go up at change.org, “Tell the New York Times to Apologize for Blaming a Child for Her Gang Rape.” The creator of the petition, Shelby Knox, writes, “1 in 4 American women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. A culture that blames victims for being raped—for what they were wearing, where they were, and who they were with—rather than blaming the rapist, is a culture that tacitly condones rape.” As of now 43,820 people have signed the petition, and Arthur S. Brisbane of the New York Times has issued an apology—not without its flaws—regarding the lack of balance in the piece.
    *****
    That apology should’ve felt good to read. But about an hour before it was issued, I’d posted the petition on my Facebook wall, urging friends to sign it. And this was one of the first responses:

    Actually…no. I just read the “offending” comments of Mr. McKinley. The complaint is that he “gave ink” to the opinions of some idiots from Texas? He’s a reporter for Christ’s sake. He’s SUPPOSED to present all angles of the story. Looks like responsible journalism to me. Attack the idiots in Texas for this. Attack the wretched perpetrators. Why in the world is anyone mad at The New York Times for telling the whole story? If anything its GOOD that they reported on those folks as well. Its important for people to know that there are idiots like that everywhere. This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country. Let the public burning commence. I’ll be tied to the stake willingly. =)

    Another person immediately agreed.  Thankfully, others jumped in to defend the petition, but I didn’t walk away from the thread feeling good about it. I felt defeated. Exhausted. Like I might burst into tears. So when the NYT finally got around to “apologizing” for publishing an article that never should’ve seen the light of day to begin with, I wanted to revel in the success of a group of people coming together to affect change. I couldn’t, though. And I started to think about why I couldn’t.
    *****
    The same day the New York Times published its story, the newspaper in my hometown published a report of another young girl’s rape, “Man accused of raping 12-year-old girl.” I read the opening paragraph: “A Middletown man has been charged with rape and intimidation of a witness after allegedly conducting a sexual relationship with a 12-year-old girl.” I read it again … “a sexual relationship” … “with a 12-year-old girl.”  I kept reading … “accused of having sex with a child younger than the age of 12” … “alleged abuse of the female juvenile.”What the hell? A child cannot consent to sex. Ever. Under any circumstance. So how does a man conduct a sexual relationship with her? How does a man have sex with her? And why does “the girl” suddenly become “the female juvenile”?  If I’d ever gone a moment without thinking about Rape Culture (and it’s hard to do), two newspaper articles published back to back—discussing the rapes of two girls as if one girl could consent to having sex with a man, while another could facilitate her own fucking gang rape—would make sure I spent a good few days and nights obsessing about the most recent media onslaught of violence against women.
    *****
    Three years ago, on March 28, 2008, Amber and I started Bitch Flicks. We respected blogs like Women and Hollywood that focus on women in film and explore how difficult it is for women to navigate the sexist terrain of Hollywood. And we wanted to be a part of that conversation, by looking closely at how popular films, television, music videos, movie posters, and other forms of media contribute to misogyny, violence against women, and unattainable beauty ideals. Because more than anything, we believe the blind and uncritical consumption of media portrayals of women contributes to furthering women’s inequality in all areas of life.

    And we’ve noticed a few things here and there: rape being played for laughs in Observe and Report; the sexual trafficking of women used as a plot device in Taken; the constant dismemberment of women in movie posters; the damaging caricatures of women as sex objects in Black Snake Moan and The Social Network; and we’ve often pointed to discussions of sexism and misogyny around the net, like the sexual violence in Antichrist and, most recently, the sexualized corpses of women in Kanye West’s Monster video. It barely grazes the surface. I mean, it barely grazes the fucking surface of what a viewer sees during the commercial breaks of a 30-minute sitcom.

    Yet, this constant, unchecked barrage of endless and obvious woman-hating undoubtedly contributes to the rape of women and girls.

    The sudden idealization of Charlie Sheen as some bad boy to be envied, even though he has a violent history of beating up women, contributes to the rape of women and girls. Bills like H. R. 3 that seek to redefine rape and further the attack on women’s reproductive rights contributes to the rape of women and girls. Supposed liberal media personalities like Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann showing their support for Julian Assange by denigrating Assange’s alleged rape victims contributes to the rape of women and girls. The sexist commercials that advertisers pay millions of dollars to air on Super Bowl Sunday contribute to the rape of women and girls. And blaming Lara Logan for her gang rape by suggesting her attractiveness caused it, or the job was too dangerous for her, or she shouldn’t have been there in the first place, contributes to the rape of women and girls.

    It contributes to rape because it normalizes violence against women. Men rape to control, to overpower, to humiliate, to reinforce the patriarchal structure. And the media, which is vastly controlled by men, participates in reproducing already existing prejudices and inequalities, rather than seeking to transform them.
    And it pisses me off.
    *****
    “This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country.” I decided to respond to that portion of my friend’s Facebook comment by quoting a passage from a piece on Shakesville called, “Feminism 101: ‘Feminists Look for Stuff to Get Mad About,'” in which Melissa McEwan makes the following argument:
     … in a very real way, ignoring “the little things” in favor of “the big stuff” makes the big stuff that much harder to eradicate, because it is the pervasive, ubiquitous, inescapable little things that create the foundation of a sexist culture on which the big stuff is dependent for its survival. It’s the little things, the constant drumbeat of inequality and objectification, that inure us to increasingly horrible acts and attitudes toward women.
    People can argue that “the little things” are less important to point out than “the big things” all they want to. They can accuse feminists of misplaced anger, irrationality, man-hating, overreaction.  But the reality is that violence against women has become so commonplace in film and television, in advertising, in stand-up fucking “comedy,” in video games, that it’s the absolute default treatment of women in media, and we can’t pretend that doesn’t extend to how women are treated in the rest of society. It contributes to rape.  And it certainly contributes to a “liberal” newspaper’s inability to effectively report an 11-year-old girl’s gang rape without victim-blaming and slut-shaming, which, incidentally, also contributes to rape.
    So. I gave myself a break. I let myself feel shitty and helpless for a minute. I’m over it now and ready to fight back. Stay tuned for our regularly scheduled programming …