Tag: 2012 Oscar/Indie Spirit Series

Oscar Best Picture Nominee: ‘Midnight in Paris’ and Its Woman Problem

Marion Cotillard and Owen Wilson in ‘Midnight in Paris’
I’ve never understood why people adore Woody Allen and lavish him with accolades. I’ve never liked his films. Nope, not even the adored Annie Hall, aside from the FABulous fashions donned by Diane Keaton. I know, I know…I’ve braced myself for the verbal lashings that will undoubtedly ensue. Besides his creepy penchant for dating and then marrying his daughter, I loathe the way Allen generally depicts women in his films. Yes, his movies make some interesting gender commentaries and contain phenomenal female actors (Diane Keaton, Meryl Streep, Patricia Clarkson, Penelope Cruz). But it irritates me that the myriad interesting and intelligent female characters in his movies seem to be punished for their strength or continually fall for the neurotic chump’s charm bullshit.

In Allen’s latest Oscar-nominated endeavor, Midnight in Paris, Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) is a successful Hollywood screenwriter struggling to write his first novel. He visits Paris with his constantly complaining fiancé Inez (Rachel McAdams), as he yearns to live amongst his literary idols in the Roaring Twenties. Gil discovers that at midnight, he is able to transport to 1920s Paris and hobnob with writers, musicians and painters. A love letter to Paris and artists, Midnight in Paris explores the dichotomy between illusions of nostalgia and pragmatically embracing the present.

Allen has a knack for evoking the visceral beauty of a city: NYC in Annie Hall and Manhattan, Barcelona in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Paris in Midnight in Paris. With lush cinematography, Allen capturesthe seductive allure and breathtaking romance of Paris. He also infuses the film with myriad authors and artists from the 1920s, a bibliophile’s dream. These delightful distractions almost made me forget (almost) that while an okay film, it’s certainly not a great one.

Now, I didn’t hate Midnight in Paris like my kick-ass colleague Stephanie. But I totally understand why she did because it royally pissed me off too. The portrayal of women in this film is fucking problematic.

Kathy Bates is fantastic as writer and art collector Gertrude Stein. Yet she’s highly underutilized, striving to make the most of her small role. Incredibly influential, we witness Stein’s Parisian salon which attracted talented writers, like Ernest Hemingway and Ezra Pound, whom she advised and mentored. After reviewing his manuscript, Gertrude bestows Gil with her wisdom: “We all fear death and question our place in the word. The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.” Aside from Gertrude, none of the female characters are either truly likeable, interesting or complex individuals.

Audacious Zelda Fitzgerald (Alison Pill, who tries her best to imbue her with charm), F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston)’s wife and a writer in her own right, diminishes her artistic talent by saying, “…and I realize I’ll never write a great lyric and my talent really lies in drinking.”

An “art groupie” muse, Adriana (Marion Cotillard) designs couture fashion and becomes the object of Gil’s affection, despite his fiancé. When Gertrude reads the first line of Gil’s book aloud, Adriana praises it saying she’s “hooked” and later calls his musings on the “City of Light” poetic. Enamored with her, they begin to spend their evenings talking and walking around Paris. Cotillard is a divine actor. But her character is beige and boring. Although I must admit I’m glad Adriana ultimately chooses her own path.

In addition to seeking Stein’s advice on his book, Gil turns to another woman, an art museum guide (Carla Bruni), for advice on being in love with two women at the same time. Oh, and he also flirts with 25-year-old Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) (cause you know, that’s what middle-aged dudes do) who sells old records from the Jazz Age and shares his love of Paris in the rain.

Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams in ‘Midnight in Paris’

But the worst female depiction – yeah, if you’ve seen the film, you know who I’m talking about – was Inez (Rachel McAdams). Inez complains about Paris’ charming bistros, getting wet in the rain, living outside the U.S. and Gil not purchasing $20,000 chairs. She undermines Gil’s talent in front of him to her friends saying, “He’s not sure he can write a novel.” Inez criticizes everything Gil says and does all while gushing over her crush, academic Paul (Michael Sheen), going so far as to shush Gil when he speaks in order to hear Paul’s pretentious diatribes. When Gil talks about Inez to others, he highlights her beauty (of course) and adds that she possesses a “sharp sense of humor.” Watching their relationship, it’s painfully obvious that there’s absolutely nothing keeping them together as the only thing they share is a mutual like of Indian food.

Now, I don’t automatically have a problem with a villainous or unlikeable female character, especially since there are so many female roles in the film. In fact, I often lament how unlike men, women are not allowed to play unlikeable or unsympathetic characters. But I have a huge problem with the “nag” role. The cliché of women as “nags” permeates pop culture.

I also have a huge problem that the seemingly sole reason Inez was made so horribly despicable was to “allow” Gil to cheat on his fiancé. The audience would sympathize with Gil for kissing another woman, buying her trinkets, baring his soul to her and planning to sleep with her even though he was engaged because his fiancé was such a shrew. Oh that’s right, I forgot! It’s okay to cheat on someone as long as they’re an asshole.

Allen told Rachel McAdams that she should play this role as she should “want to play some bitchy parts” as they’re more interesting. Maybe. But not this part. I didn’t find her character interesting at all. Yes, McAdams tries her best with the material she’s given. But the character is one-dimensional and annoying, lacking any depth or complexity.

Midnight in Paris, like pretty much all of Allen’s films, lacks diversity. They’re a sea of white with no people of color anywhere in sight. Oh I take that back. There’s a black woman in a car that Gil gets in on his “way” to the 1920s, one shot of Josephine Baker (Sonia Rolland) dancing that lasts all of 30 seconds and a few black people watching her dance.

Along with race, sexual identities are also omitted. The film contains three famous lesbians: Gertrude Stein, Stein’s life partner Alice B. Toklas (Thérèse Bourou-Rubinsztein) and writer Djuna Barnes (Emmanuelle Uzan). Of all three, Gil only alludes to Djuna’s sexuality when he says she led when they danced together. So lesbianism is almost completely erased, paving the way for good ole’ heteronormativity.

The only overt gender commentary occurs when Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll) says, “Pablo Picasso thinks women are only to sleep with or to paint,” but he believes “a woman is equal to a man in courage.” Which is interesting since Allen is a person who in his personal life doesn’t always believe equality in relationships is desirable: “Sometimes equality in a relationship is great, sometimes inequality makes it work.” (???) Yeah, this explains a lot. He also has a penchant for younger women, in his movies and in reality, because younger women are more innocent, “before they get spoiled by the world.” Gag. 

This attitude that older women are less desirable as romantic partners seems to echo throughout the film, particularly in its ending. Don’t stay with the older (relatively speaking) jaded woman. Get with the young, innocent girl! While numerous women abound, everything in the film revolves around Gil, a stand-in for Woody Allen. Women are merely a buffet to be sampled – if one doesn’t work out, oh well, try another!
I’ll admit; the book lover in me was almost seduced. It felt like a light-hearted, whimsical, bibliophile remake of Purple Rose of Cairo. Instead of film characters leaping off-screen, novelists from the past reside in alongside the present. But there is no way in hell this should ever be nominated for a Best Picture or Director Oscar. It’s nothing more than an esthetically pleasing diversion.

I swear people nominated Midnight in Paris for so many awards because Hollywood is lazy. Rather than nominating ground-breaking, intelligent films like Pariah, The Whistleblower or Young Adult, this gets nominated because Allen is a famous, old, white male director. Good job, Hollywood. Way to keep perpetuating the dude machine.

The film suffers from a major woman problem. The women in the film are just as intelligent and talented as their male contemporaries. Gil turns to women for advice and guidance. Yet Allen reduces almost all of them to love interests and arm candy, nothing more than satellites to a dude.

Indie Spirit Best Feature Nominee: Beginners

Beginners (2010)
This is a guest post from Megan Ryland.
(Does contain minor, vague spoilers)
Beginners introduces us to Oliver (Ewan McGregor), who is struggling to cope with the life and death of his father, while also attempting to fall in love. Told in memories that collide with the present day, the narrative moves forward and backward in time to reveal who and what has shaped Oliver’s life. 
After Oliver’s mother dies, his 75-year-old father Hal (Christopher Plummer) reveals that he is gay and proceeds to embrace an identity that he has been forced to conceal. Unfortunately, four years later Hal is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Oliver cares for his father until Hal’s death, after which Oliver can only mourn and care for his father’s dog, Arthur, who shares his grief. Three months after the funeral, Oliver meets Anna (Mélanie Laurent), a beautiful French actress. Despite their shared tendency to push others away, they enter a complicated relationship and try to determine if either one of them knows how to make it work.
The movie is written and directed by Mike Mills, who reportedly based the movie on his experiences with his own father. While dealing with heavy topics, the overall tone and trajectory of the movie is arguably optimistic. The narrative is at times whimsical or quirky, but it maintains a strong connection to real emotion that I found compelling. Ewan McGregor is fantastic as the centerpiece of this intelligent romantic comedy, but the entire cast sells the story. Mélanie Laurent, Christopher Plummer and Mary Page Keller create a rich world as supporting characters with their own stories.
From where I stand, Beginners is yet another movie about men and their lives, but I have a hard time faulting it for that. If it were not another drop in the enormous bucket of Stories About Men, I could find little to complain about. I would actually like to go over what I felt Beginners got right about its characterization of women and men.
First, I appreciated the fact that men took on caretaking as a main feature in the film. Oliver spends months trying to care for his father, and then months trying to grieve his passing, and that emotional journey is not often documented in popular media. We also see men gathered around a sick friend’s bed and men as hospice workers, all without special comment or congratulations. In the movie, nurturing and care are not determined to be the domain of women. In fact, women appeared in a wide variety of positions that aren’t necessarily limited by stereotypical expectations. There are women clients, artists, upper management, friends, doctors, and nurses. Essentially, women are a normal presence within the world created by the film and they display a variety of characteristics. That’s refreshing to see in a movie focused on a man’s story.
Mélanie Laurent as Anna
For example, Beginners could have put Anna (Mélanie Laurent) in the role of the girlfriend-as-therapist, but her position in the story is not dependent on her ability to be the caretaker for Oliver. In my opinion, Anna’s sympathy and understanding does not transform her into a tool to cope with Oliver’s grief over his father. She escapes being the empty vessel for Oliver’s emotions to pour into, thank goodness! She has her own issues to sort out and their interactions move far beyond simply dealing with Hal’s death. In fact, in coping with her own issues, Anna is not morally required by the narrative to be a caretaker for her depressed father either. She’s arguably not forced to lean on men to define her character’s role or trajectory, despite playing the romantic lead.
The relationship between Anna and Oliver was of great interest to me. Anna is rather unique in the depiction of her sexuality and sensuality. Although both Oliver and Anna pursue the relationship at different moments, Anna is initially often the sexual ‘aggressor’ with no feigned coy expressions. She is not ashamed when she invites a stranger to her hotel room, or when they do introductions the following morning. Importantly, this behaviour is not set up by the film to be seen as deviant or ‘troubled.’ The audience isn’t expected to see anything wrong with her establishing a relationship in this manner. Although the lack of judgment or slut shaming could be attributed to the relatively mature age of both Anna and Oliver, I still appreciate the normalization of Anna taking the lead in her own sexual and emotional satisfaction.
Arguably, Anna is also beautiful and sexy without being objectified by the camera. Shots linger on her face, not her bust, waist or behind. Maybe my standards are horribly low from watching mainstream television and movies, but this treatment impressed me. Even her brief, partial nudity is natural and the director avoids allowing the audience to leer at her as she changes clothes. For as much time as the couple spends in the bedroom, I am hard pressed to describe Anna’s figure in any detail. The relationship between Oliver and Anna is depicted as involving a great deal of sex, but her character is never simplified to her value in bed. In my opinion, her defining characteristics are her playfulness, her caring insight and her struggle with keeping people in her life – not her sexuality or hotness rating.
Although it could have easily been a Garden State for grown ups, Beginners refuses easy answers or simple characters. It also deftly avoids the pitfall of the Manic Pixy Dream Girl, as Anna is legitimately flawed, not just quirky (as seen in Elizabethtown and Garden State). Anna doesn’t know how to make the relationship work anymore than Oliver does. Their only saving grace is in trying at all. Unlike the typical Manic Pixy Dream Girl, Anna does not guide Oliver on an adventure where he finds himself; they are both in an adventure of a relationship, while Oliver is separately dealing with his grief. It’s not her responsibility to open his eyes to the beauty of life.
Mary Page Keller as Georgia
Oliver’s mother, Georgia, is the other woman in his life. Georgia is a striking figure who we see only in distant memories and who is played beautifully by Mary Page Keller. In a very limited number of scenes, Georgia leaves a lasting impression. For example, when Oliver remembers his father briefly kissing his mother before going to work, Georgia’s expression as Hal leaves her is profoundly moving. Oliver’s father is entirely absent in these memories, even when he kisses Georgia. The audience understands in that moment what their entire relationship was like, and what Oliver watched on a daily basis. Every time the kissing goodbye clip repeated, I was glued to Keller’s face. In barely a few minutes on screen, the nuance and complexity that we see from Georgia (Keller) is astounding. She married a gay man knowing he was gay, and yet hungers for the kind of emotion, connection and attention that she needs. He will never deliver it, but she never leaves him; they are together until her death. Even from her brief screen time, the audience understands Georgia as a complexly motivated character who adds depth to the story.
Fortunately, Georgia is not entirely defined by the roles of wife and mother, despite only being shown in the memories of her son. She is a woman who gave up a great deal and who existed outside the lives of her son and husband. For example, Georgia is described as having “handed in her Jewish badge” when Hal married her. While she is not as present as other characters, I believe that she is given dignity and complexity. She is not a Maternal Figure placeholder and she is not used as the scapegoat for Oliver’s intimacy issues, but she is not perfect either. Keller delivers an utterly human performance of a woman who wants to give happiness to her son, while barely maintaining the façade of happiness in her own life. This is a story that has been lived by many women in many ways.
Christopher Plummer as Hal
I would be remiss if I didn’t also discuss Hal. Christopher Plummer has been collecting Best Supporting Actor awards for the role (as of this writing, Wikipedia lists 5 received), and in my humble opinion, they are definitely earned. Plummer plays a loving and optimistic gay senior, which departs from typical depictions of young, promiscuous gay men in the media. Although not an entirely radical character, Hal is certainly a fresh representation of sexuality for two demographics, one often considered ‘non-sexual’ (seniors) and other considered ‘hyper sexual’ (gay men). Hal is often joyful, even while dying, and doesn’t express shame or regret for the compromises he has made. He does not simplify his life for his son or the audience, and he does not apologize for it. Both Oliver and the viewer are left to determine what it means to live and achieve happiness as Hal has. Again, Beginners provides complex characterization and depth of feeling.
What I really love about Beginners is that everyone is trying to find love and happiness, and everyone is having a hard go of it. Men, women, everyone is imperfect and trying so hard. The sincere efforts and genuine flaws make this a story about three-dimensional women and men who aren’t reduced to stereotypes or roles. No one attempts to save someone else (everyone is too busy with saving themselves) and the story doesn’t even become about Oliver using someone else to save himself. The only hope for finding happiness is trying to do it despite everything else.

Megan Ryland is currently completing her BA, focusing on politics, women and gender. She writes about feminism, body image, and media analysis on her blog, http://beautyvsbeast.wordpress.com. Starting in March 2012, she will also be helping to release the Hello City! Culture Cast, a Vancouver-based podcast that reviews movies, theatre, concerts and more.

Oscar Best Picture Nominee: ‘The Help’: Same Script, Different Cast

The Help is nominated for four Oscars (Best Picture, Best Actress (Viola Davis), and Best Supporting Actress (Jessica Chastain & Octavia Spencer), and has garnered numerous other nominations and awards.
This piece, by guest writer elle, first appeared at Bitch Flicks on October 5, 2011. 

The Help (2011)
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.