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Is Pepper Potts No Longer the "Damsel in Distress" in ‘Iron Man 3’?

Movie poster for Iron Man 3

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: Lots of spoilers ahead!

Superhero films often exhibit assertive, outspoken female characters. Yet they often simultaneously objectify women’s bodies, reduce them to ancillary love interests or perpetuate gender stereotypes. So when I heard that Pepper Potts would have a more active role in Iron Man 3, I was excited yet remained cautiously skeptical.

Gwyneth Paltrow eagerly talked about putting on the Iron Man suit and getting tired of the “damsel in distress”:

“I was really hoping that Pepper would be more engaged in this movie…So I was really happy, not only that she was wearing the suit, but that you see her really on equal ground with Tony in their interpersonal dynamic, and as a CEO, and then she’s got all this action… I think in order to move things forward and keep it fresh, you can only be the damsel in distress for so long, and then it’s old.”

Producer and Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige also said they wanted to “play with the convention of the damsel in distress…there is fun to be had with “Is Pepper in danger or is Pepper the savior?” over the course of this movie.” Okay, okay, this all sounds awesome to me.

Now I’m all for subverting gender norms. But is Pepper really empowered? Or does she really remain a rearticulation of the Damsel in Distress trope?

When Pepper puts on the Iron Man suit, it’s not of her own volition. It’s not because she cleverly thought of it. Tony, who can now recall his arsenal of Iron Man suits on command, remotely puts it on Pepper to save her during an attack. Once she’s in the suit of armor, Pepper does make the most of it as she gets scientist Maya (who of course has to have had a sexual past with Tony) to safety and protects Tony from a falling ceiling as well.

Tony Stark

However, when Gwyneth Paltrow discussed putting on the suit, I envisioned an assertive move by Pepper — that she boldly decides to put on the armor so she can go out and save Tony. Not something she passively has placed on her body by a man. What could have been an interesting exploration of Pepper and gender becomes a wasted opportunity.

Just because Pepper donned the Iron Man suit for like two minutes, doesn’t mean she isn’t a “damsel in distress.” She still is for a majority of the film. Archvillian Aldrich Killian kidnaps Pepper and ties her up, using her as bait to lure Tony and blackmail him. Yep, that sounds like a passive damsel to me.

In Iron Man, Pepper is Tony’s personal assistant and according to him, his only true friend. In Iron Man 2, she becomes the CEO of Stark Industries. By The Avengers, they co-exist as a team, partners both in romance and work as Pepper helps Tony develop Stark Tower and the Arc Reactor. In each film, Pepper grows and progresses to have a more important role. So how did Pepper — Tony’s friend, partner and brilliant CEO of Stark Industries — get reduced to an objectified and victimized “damsel in distress” yet again?

Gwyneth Paltrow in Iron Man 3

Discussing the Damsel in Distress Trope in video games, although it’s also completely applicable for film too, Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency talks about how the trope provides incentive and motivation for the male protagonist. The trope is also a form of objectification and is not synonymous with “weak” but rather a form of disempowering women, even strong ones, while empowering men:

“So the damsel trope typically makes men the “subject” of the narratives while relegating women to the “object.” This is a form of objectification because as objects, damsel’ed women are being acted upon, most often becoming or reduced to a prize to be won, a treasure to be found or a goal to be achieved…The damsel in distress is not just a synonym for “weak,” instead it works by ripping away the power from female characters, even helpful or seemingly capable ones. No matter what we are told about their magical abilities, skills or strengths they are still ultimately captured or otherwise incapacitated and then must wait for rescue. Distilled down to its essence, the plot device works by trading the disempowerment of female characters FOR the empowerment of male characters.”

Surprisingly, as it revolves around Tony, Iron Man 3 passes the Bechdel Test. Huzzah! A brief conversation transpires between Pepper and Maya, the botanist who invented the Extremis virus. Maya laments being naïve about science, just wanting to help people and how her ideals became distorted. Pepper reassures her, telling her that Stark Industries once carried out military contracts so she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. What a nice moment. But don’t get too cozy. This moment of sisterly bonding shatters when Maya betrays Pepper. Sidebar, it’s interesting that Maya has a change of heart not after talking to Pepper but after talking to Tony later in the film.

There’s a telling exchange near the end of the film when Killian tells Tony he injected Pepper with the Extremis virus because he wanted to make Pepper perfect. Tony, ever the good boyfriend, retorts, “That’s where you’re wrong. She already was perfect.” This could have been a nice albeit clichéd message about accepting and appreciating people how they are, rather than trying to change them. But 5 minutes later, when Pepper asks if she’s going to be alright because she’s got the unstable virus in her, Tony says he’s going to “fix” her because that’s what he does, he “fixes things.” Ahhh the mechanic imagery strewn throughout the film comes full circle.

Gwyneth Paltrow in the Iron Man suit

It’s a strange juxtaposition between “she’s perfect the way she is” and “I’ll fix you,” especially in proximity to one another. This dialogue could have easily been altered to show Pepper’s agency — that either she wanted to keep the virus and harness the superpower or have it removed. We could have seen things from her perspective. But instead, it’s all to convey how Tony is decisive and protective of his woman and how he’s grown emotionally.

Taking place after The Avengers, we see a changed Tony Stark. Due to the stress of combating aliens and traveling through worm holes, Tony suffers anxiety, insomnia and PTSD. I was pleasantly surprised at the film’s respectful depiction of mental illness. Although its treatment of people with disabilities is abhorrent. We see the weight of Tony’s obsession creating Iron Man suits straining their relationship. Pepper is frustrated that his suits come before her. But they never resolve their issues. It’s as if Pepper said, “Oh I almost died, got injected with some fiery shit and now you fixed me? Okay, we’re good now!” Um, no.

So what’s the lesson here? Don’t worry, ladies. The right man will fix you and all your problems.

Pepper isn’t an empowered, self-actualized character in Iron Man 3. Instead she’s used as an object for the two dudes to fight over. She’s used to show that Killian is a villain who never really loved her while she’s used as an incentive for Tony to fight and to realize what truly matters in life. Tony and Killian battle it out with Pepper as a trophy to the victor, aka the better dude.

As film critic Scott Mendelson said: “For Potts, the movie was about other men giving her temporary agency/power and then quickly taking it away again.” Despite her intelligence and success, she possesses no agency of her own. Men bestowed power upon Pepper. Any power she appears to exert stems from men. Now some superheroes (Spiderman, Wolverine) have their powers given to them by others, either by accident or against their will. But once they have their powers, they decide what to do with them. They decide through their intelligence or cunning how best to utilize their powers. But Tony and Killian make all the decisions for Pepper. She doesn’t make any for herself. Pepper doesn’t choose to don the suit. Tony does. Killian decides to inject her with the Extremis virus that grants superhero powers. She doesn’t choose to keep the Extremis virus or have it removed. Tony decides to remove the virus. Even though she has a brief romp with superpowers and briefly kicks ass, Pepper somehow remains less empowered in Iron Man 3 than in the other films. Men decide her fate.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Pepper Potts in Iron Man 3

If the film really played with the conventions of a “damsel in distress,” rather than playing out every other superhero trope, Pepper wouldn’t have been kidnapped or if she had, she would have saved herself, rather than needing Tony’s rescue. At the film’s climax, we do see Pepper, injected with the Extremis virus, kick ass and save Tony. Oh and of course she does it in a skimpier, sexy outfit. So even in the shadow of empowerment, Pepper must be anchored as a sex object, intertwining power and sexuality. Again, it isn’t about Pepper’s growth and development. It’s about how Tony sees her.

While she acknowledges it “isn’t perfect on gender issues,” Alyssa Rosenberg posits that Iron Man 3’s “progressive gender play is noteworthy when you consider the kinds of roles actresses in superhero movies usually get stuck with.” But no, no it’s not progressive. Did we watch the same movie? Having women scientists and women CEOs in your film, while a good start, isn’t smashing gender stereotypes if you ultimately reinforce the same old tired gender tropes and clichés. It isn’t actually showcasing powerful women if you continually undercut women’s agency.

While action sequences are enjoyable, fighting is probably not what audiences find empowering. It’s characters’ decisiveness, assertiveness, ingenuity, struggle to survive — all of which can be conveyed through a visual manifestation of action sequences.

Sure, it was nice to see Pepper kicking ass. But let’s be clear here. Just because a female character wields a sword or shoots a gun or uses her fists to punch a villain, doesn’t automatically make her emotionally strong or empowered. Possessing agency to speak her mind, make her own decisions, chart her own course — these are what make a character truly empowered.

The problem with the Damsel in Distress trope is that it strips women of their power and insinuates that women need men to rescue or save them. And yet again it places the focus on men, reinforcing the notion that society revolves around men, not women.

Maybe I’m a greedy feminist but four minutes of ass-kicking does not automatically make an empowered female character shattering gender tropes, nor does it satiate my desire for a depiction of a nuanced, complex, strong female character. Sigh.

Women in Science Fiction Week: Princess Leia: Feminist Icon or Sexist Trope?

Princess Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

When I was a young girl, Star Wars was my favorite movie. I’ve watched it more times than any other film. Premiering in 1977, the same year I was born, the epic sci-fi space opera irrevocably changed the movie industry. Beyond battle scenes, or the twist of Vader being Luke’s father, it impacted my childhood. Because Princess Leia was my idol.

In the Star WarsTrilogy, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan (Carrie Fisher) was a member of the Imperial Senate, a diplomat and a spy for the Rebel Alliance. Courageous and determined, she boasted a defiant will. Leia boldly spoke her mind. And it’s what resonated the most with me.

When I was 7, my mom sewed a Princess Leia costume for me for Halloween. A white dress with a hood cinched by a sparkly belt and accompanied by a plastic light saber. Yes, I realize Leia didn’t wield a light saber in the movies but she did have a laser gun. I continued to wear that costume long after Halloween. Every week (sometimes multiple times in a week), I would pop in our VHS of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, don my white dress and act out Princess Leia’s scenes. I probably would have worn that costume to school if my mother had let me.

Looking back, why did Leia have to be a princess? Why did she have to bear a title that too often symbolizes hyperfemininity, passivity and sexualization? Why couldn’t she have been the President’s daughter or a merely a Senator? So yes, Leia is a princess. But she’s a badass warrior princess — a precursor to the rise of the warrior princesses we’re currently seeing today.

Princess Leia captured by Stormtroopers in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

In the very first scenes of Star Wars, we see Leia shoot a laser gun. Yeah, she gets captured. But she didn’t go down without a fight. When she’s taken hostage, Leia unflinchingly stands up to Darth Vader, who intimidates everyone. But not her. She remains defiant. She stands up to Governor Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander too as we witness in this compelling exchange:

Princess Leia:Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.

Governor Tarkin:Charming to the last. You don’t know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.

Princess Leia: I’m surprised that you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself.

Governor Tarkin:Princess Leia, before your execution, I’d like you to join me for a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.

Princess Leia: The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.

Even after she’s tortured by Vader, she refuses to reveal the location of the Rebel Base. When Grand Moff Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander, threatens Leia to reveal the location of the Rebel Base or they’ll destroy her home planet of Alderaan, she lies disclosing a false location.

When Luke Skywalker, Han Solo and Chewbacca stage a rescue, Leia isn’t automatically obsequious. She immediately questions Luke when he’s disguised as a Stormtrooper with her infamous line, “Aren’t you a little short for a Stormtrooper?” When they’re all trapped, Leia takes matters into her own hands and shoots their way into a garbage chute, telling them, “Well somebody has to save our skins.” Leia continues to retain her grip of control when she tells Han: “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but from now on you’ll do as I tell you, okay?”

Of course he horrifyingly says to Luke, “If we can just avoid any more female advice, we ought to be able to get out of here.” Nice. So men shouldn’t listen to a fucking diplomatic senator. Oh no. Why? Clearly, because they have vaginas.

L-R: Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), Leia (Carrie Fisher) and Han Solo (Harrison Ford) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

Even though Leia has romantic feelings for Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back, she continues to call out his arrogant bullshit. She quips snappy retorts such as, “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookie” and “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.” She’s never at a loss for words and never afraid to express herself.

She also has burgeoning psychic powers as she picks up on Luke’s cries for help at the end of the film. Obi-Wan tells Yoda when Luke Skywalker leaves Dagobah, “That boy is our last hope.” But Yoda wisely tells him, “No, there is another,” cryptically referring to Luke’s twin sister Leia.

In Return of the Jedi, Leia puts herself in harm’s way posing as a bounty hunter to save Han. Sadly, after she’s captured by Jabba the Hut, she’s notoriously objectified and reduced to a sex object in the iconic metal bikini, essentially glamorizing and eroticizing slavery. And of course she needs to be rescued. Again.

Leia gets rescued. A lot. And that’s incredibly frustrating and annoying. But Leia often subverts the sexist Damsel in Distress trope. She takes matters into her own hands to free herself and others, whether it’s shooting their way into the garbage chute in Star Wars, shooting Stormtroopers, rescuing Han (Return of the Jedi), rescuing Luke (Empire Strikes Back), or killing Jabba the Hutt. Even when she’s being rescued, Leia always spouts her acerbic opinions, refuses to back down, and asserts her identity.

Princess Leia advising Rebel pilots in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

Throughout the trilogy, we see Leia lead and dispense tactical information to Rebel fighters. But ultimately, her underlying role appears to be to motivate Luke on his hero’s quest and Han on his personal transformation. Although George Lucas’ original ending with Leia coronated as Queen of the survivors of Alderaan sounds pretty amazing. It also would have been great to see her begin training as a Jedi, something the books explore. But even when you have a strong female protagonist, like Leia, her story must take a back seat to the dudes.

Now, I love Star Wars. But if you stop and think about the Star Wars Trilogy, it’s pretty shitty to women.

We only ever see 3 women — Princess Leia, Mon Mothma, Aunt Beru (Luke’s aunt) — who aren’t slave girls or dancers. Men make decisions, lead battles, pilot planes, smuggle goods and train as Jedis. It’s men, men, men as far as the eye can see. Hell, even the robots are dudes.

Wicket the Ewok and Princess Leia in Episode VI: Return of the Jedi

The entire Star Wars Trilogy suffers from the Smurfette Principle. The fact that there are no other women for Leia to talk to or interact with perpetuates the notion that women’s lives ultimately revolve around men. With a marketing campaign — if you look at the poster for each film — turned Leia into nothing more than a sex object (and of course aided by the metal bikini) reifying the idea that women’s bodies belong solely to tantalize the male gaze.

Boys and men see numerous male characters to emulate. But for girls and women? We get one. Leia. Well, unless you count Aunt Beru or Mon Mothma, both of whom only get like 60 seconds of screen-time. Leia exists as the sole token female.

“In Star Wars, a boy can grow up to be a knight, or a wizard. But if you’re a girl, you have one good role model…But you better be born a princess or good at space hooking cause those are your options.”

Why ‘Star Wars’ Is Secretly Terrifying for Women — powered by Cracked.com

As the above video from Crackedastutely points out, all the women in the Star Wars Trilogy are space strippers, aside from Leia, Aunt Beru and Mon Mothma (a Republic senator and co-founder of the Rebellion, aka the red-haired woman in Return of the Jediwho gives tactical orders to the rebels). The Cracked writers also assert that Leia is actually a terrible female role model because she ditches her duties with the Rebellion to save her man (although so do the dudes) and then blows up Jabba’s barge which was filled with other slave women. Okay, that’s pretty douchey, Leia.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that Star Wars is 35 years old. But even in the Prequel Trilogy, we haven’t come much further. While we definitely see more women — Queen Padme Amidala, Shmi Skywalker (Anakin’s mother), Naboo queens Queen Apailana and Queen Jamillia, Jedi Knights Staas Allie and Aayla Secura, Jedi Master Depa Billaba, Queen Breha Organa (Leia’s adoptive mother), Zam Wessell (bounty hunter who attempts to kill Padme) — only Padme and Shmi receive any focus. And of course their lives revolve around men. Actually, their lives around one man: Anakin. Yes, Padme is a political leader. But her role as birth mother to Leia and Luke and her death fueling Anakin’s anger trump any individuality she possesses. Both Padme and Shmi die tragically; both women’s purpose in the films serves to explain why Anakin turned to the Dark Side.

Clearly, sexism and racism plague the Star Wars Trilogy. Really, only 3 women speak, only 3 women aren’t strippers and only 1 black person…in the whole fucking galaxy?! Gee thanks, George Lucas.

Princess Leia in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

If it seems like I vacillate between hailing Leia a feminist icon and condemning her a sexist trope, it’s because I’m torn. Leia is a spirited, fearless and fierce female protagonist. She kicks ass. Yet she exists in a fictitious galaxy mired by sexism where women barely exist that continually puts men — their stories, their perspectives, their struggles — front and center.

Despite its massive gender and race problems, Princess Leia aided me through my childhood. For a mouthy, opinionated little girl who was always getting in trouble for voicing their thoughts, Leia emulated a confident and rebellious woman. She had crucial duties and responsibilities as a leader and revolutionary. But she didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Unafraid to let her temper flare, she spoke her mind regardless of the consequences.

In a world that so often silences women’s and girls’ voices, Leia shone as a beacon of hope. Not only did she teach me women could be political leaders and fight for freedom. But she affirmed that women can and should fearlessly speak their minds and take charge of their lives.

LGBTQI Week: Women Empowerment and LGBT Issues in ‘Scott Pilgrim vs. The World’: Strange and Nonexistent

This is a guest post by Marla Koenigsknecht.

*As a note, I am not including anything about the comic series, only the movie.
*Synopsis from imdb.

!!SPOILER ALERT!!

Probably most women can say they’ve had their share of “evil exes.” Sure, your past may come back and bite you in the butt, BUT I’m also sure it’s never come back in the form of super-powered henchmen with quirky names. I’m also sure it’s never happened in the style of an arcade game, either. Well, that’s what happens in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. And while watching Michael Cera kick butt is super entertaining, and we all think Cera’s shrimpy (yes, shrimpy) voice is adorable, the movie doesn’t do women any justice. I find this to be Cera’s most misogynistic role because his character is…well…an asshole to women.

It all begins with 22-year-old Scott and his new high school girlfriend, Knives Chau. He says that he likes dating someone 5 years his junior because it’s simple. However, everyone else advises him to break up with her (he’s also only using her to get over his ex who cheated on him). But that doesn’t stop Scott, who begins cheating on Knives once he meets Ramona—a funky, hipster chick. Before he can begin dating Ramona, he must defeat her seven evil exes in fights to the death. The movie is filled with tons of funny quips and witty, fast-paced jokes—and I’ll be honest, I loved it the first time I saw it. But the more times I watched it and thought about it, I realized that Scott Pilgrim is too much of a “guys’” movie—something rather disappointing, in my opinion.

Knives Chau (played by Ellen Wong)

I’ll start with Knives. Not only do they repeat the fact that she’s only 17 over and over, but it’s definitely apparent she worships the ground Scott walks on; yeah, so I dated an older guy at a young age. It’s exciting—but Knives doesn’t have enough self-respect to leave a guy who doesn’t respect her. She even becomes obsessive and stalker-ish, changing her looks to look more like Ramona and trying to make him jealous. She is portrayed as crazy, and we’re supposed to roll our eyes and laugh. She even says, “I hate her stupid guts!” like Ramona ruined her love life, when Scott’s the one stringing Knives along in his game. Ramona didn’t know that Scott was cheating on Knives with her and shouldn’t be blamed for stealing Scott when he lacked the nerve to break up with Knives. It’s just another way to pit girls against one another, acting like Scott is the victim, and therefore okay for him to hurt a vulnerable teen because he’s in love with Ramona. Following this scene, one of the evil exes “punches the highlights” out of Knives’ hair because she tries to stand up for Scott, and it’s clear then. No one respects this poor girl. And her lack of respect from others is reflected from her own lack of self-respect. The biggest issue I have with this is that she never finds her own self-respect either. It is never resolved in the way I would like it to be, which would be Knives finding self-respect on her own. Instead it’s given to her from Scott (more on this later).

As for Ramona, I personally love the character at first. She seems really strong, but then after Ramona’s exes arrive she’s just a girl in a man’s world. In this movie, Ramona isn’t the love of someone’s life, but a prize to be won. It is even stated that they are “controlling the future of Ramona’s love life.” She waits around while Scott fights these battles for her, when really all she should have to do is tell them to stop. At one time she says, “I’ve dabbled in being a bitch.” So, standing up for herself means she’s a bitch, and that means she has to wait for Scott to kill all her exes before she can be “free” of her past baggage and over-controlling exes. In the end fight, her most recent ex Gideon Graves is shown petting Ramona like a dog (before he eventually fights Scott). Before the fight, Scott “gained the power of self-respect.” But why does Scott need to be the one to gain self-respect? Why not Ramona? She deserves to get rid of her own baggage, not have Scott kill it for her. She even stands up and fights Gideon, but says, “Let’s both be girls.” She can only fight someone when the person is a “girl” (figurative or not). Again, girls against each other. Which leads me to my next point.

Gideon (Jason Schwartzman) and Ramona (Mary Elizabeth Winstead)

Roxy is one of Ramona’s exes, when she was “a little bi-curious.” Before the fight actually begins, Scott finds it hard to believe that Ramona dated a girl, even though his roommate Wallace is gay. He doesn’t question that. Maybe Scott has this idea in his mind that Ramona is this perfect, exactly-what-he-wants, girl. But does that mean that a “perfect girl” is one with no previous baggage, especially in the form of another woman? His disbelief in her bisexual past indicates a lack of freedom for women. Perhaps Scott is threatened by her sexual past, because it might mean he as a man is not needed to fulfill her expectations. Especially because Ramona is a decently strong woman when we first meet her. Wallace is free to explore other men, but Ramona is unable to have a bisexual past without it being laughed at. At this point, before Roxy hits Scott, Ramona steps in. So, she can fight against a woman, but not a man? And who doesn’t love a good cat fight?! (sigh, rolls eyes, gag, etc.) My personal favorite is that Ramona grabs Scott and uses him as a puppet to hit Roxy because Scott says, “I don’t think I can hit a girl….They’re soft.” Roxy yells, “Fight your own battles, lazy ass!” to Scott. Oh, the insufferable irony. To Scott, the man who is fighting Ramona’s own battle at that moment. As if Ramona couldn’t do that the past how many years? Of course not, she’s a girl.

Homosexuality is also portrayed weirdly in this movie, in the case of Wallace and Roxy. Wallace (the roommate) has the power to turn straight men around him gay, and several times does the audience see this happening. It makes being homosexual seem like a fad–which seems rather insensitive. The end of Roxy’s fight is rather odd as well. Ramona tells Scott to touch the back of Roxy’s knee, and it makes her orgasm to death (literally, she blows up). That, and when Scott says, “You had a sexy phase?” about their relationship reminds me too much of how men find lesbians hot together and makes me want to gag. Her battle scene just seems like a comic relief fight from the real action. If you compare Roxy’s fight to Lucas Lee’s (another evil ex) fight, you’ll notice several differences (ignore the snowflakes and Spanish subtitles in the second video). First, you’ll notice the obvious gender differences: the lowered voice, built body and facial hair for Lucas…the smaller body, pigtails, and higher voice for Roxy. It makes you aware of which one to take seriously. Second, in Lucas’s fight, Ramona sits and watches. And third, notice that Ramona gives a back story to Lucas (she does that for all of the ex-boyfriends), and Roxy doesn’t because being a lesbian is a joke here.

Everyone is okay at the end of the movie. And only because Ramona’s exes are dead and her bad past is defeated (courtesy of Scott, not herself), he and Knives have reconciled, and Scott gets the girl. But only because Scott apologized. And while I like that he did find some kindness to apologize, I’m still irked by this. I don’t think the girls in this movie should have needed Scott to apologize just to feel okay in the end. I wish they would’ve been given more empowerment to find respect for themselves without Scott–especially because these girls could have been portrayed as strong and able to stick up for themselves.

Honestly, I like that this movie attempts to show triumph over mistakes, but I hate that it requires Scott’s self-respect before the women’s. Because I feel the women have been wronged most in this movie, I wish that they had found their own self-faith before he did. Personally I have found in relationships—and in life—that strength comes from my own faith in myself and then having faith in another person. I wish the women of Scott Pilgrim had the same empowerment Scott had earned. That they wouldn’t need Scott’s self-assurance to have their own. That they would’ve been able to say, “Screw you, Scott!” or “Screw you, deadly exes!” or “Screw you, misogynists!” I mean… it’s all the same, right?

———-

Marla Koenigsknecht is junior at Michigan State University. She is an English and Professional Writing student. She also is the Assistant Editor of The Offbeat, a literary magazine on MSU campus.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Thoughts on Strong Female Characters: Carolyn Fry from ‘Pitch Black’

Guest post written by Rhea Daniel cross-posted from her blog Short Stories with permission.

So I saw The Avengers(2012). I’ll be honest, pure entertainment, skillful use of existing archetypes to create entertaining group dynamic, how can you not fall for that?

However the whole ‘strong woman character’ attribution to Joss Whedon isn’t completely merited. I love his truly sympathetic essay about women on Whedonesque.com, and his feminist bent, however as ‘strong’ women go, I could never relate to his female characters.

To me a character that deserves the reputation of a feminist heroine would be Carolyn Fry(Radha Mitchell) from David Twohy’s Pitch Black (2000), regardless of whether he intended it that way. We have time to watch her character grow through the movie, but she is a secondary character, Riddick is the famed anti-hero. To make an impression in spite of that is huge.

While Fry takes the reins of the group on the deserted planet by default, the one thing that drives her bravery is her terrible mistake — attempting to eject the passengers in cryogenic sleep to lighten the load of the spaceship before it crashed, stopped from doing so by the more conscientious navigator who died as a result, earning her a lot of resentment from the group, their mistrust eventually pushing her to fight for her leadership position more fiercely. I don’t particularly consider that a negative point, I see a person deeply ridden with guilt, antagonists willing her to fail, Riddick keenly watching her every move, reacting to her willingness to risk her safety for the sake of the others with amusement. I see a lot of a pressure on a person who is not particularly skilled to handle the task before her, but she pushes on in spite of that.

What’s more, the movie treats its weakest member, Jack (Rihanna Griffith), who disguises herself as a boy (self-protection or to avoid being judged, either one), with a lot of sensitivity. She is young, prone to misplaced hero worship for Riddick who is the creepy bad boy of the group, and changes her loyalties easily. Also she’s in the middle of her period. I’ve never seen a sci-fi acknowledge this obvious part of womanhood, women get pregnant but they never menstruate in sci-fi movies (I’ve seen so far). Jack becomes the unwitting lure for the hungry creatures on the planet. It’s an acknowledgment of Jack’s obvious femaleness in the movie, albeit, a negative one. Fry offers her sympathy when Jack breaks down and cries. Johns, the most profiteering member of the lot, attempts to form a pact with Riddick to throw Jack to the wolves. As far as I remember, there’s a price on Riddick’s head, which gives Riddick good reason to get rid of Johns the mercenary, so Riddick might know exactly what he stands for: himself, and he expects everyone else to behave with the same selfish motives. It’s probably why he finds Fry’s declarations of self-sacrifice so amusing, and why SPOILER!!! -> her eventual death affects him so deeply. <-END SPOILER

Fry’s last attempt at leadership solidifies her loyalties. When she finds Riddick has reached the spaceship and is getting ready to take off, leaving the rest behind, she asserts her position as captain and commands him not to leave. He tries to tempt her into coming with him, and here we see a brief moment of Fry’s inner turmoil as she breaks down, torn between choosing her own safety and the lives of the others. She fights back, insists that they go back for the others, but he overpowers her easily. Fry, with Riddick’s knife at her throat, overpowered, asserts her loyalties for the last remaining members of the crew. It’s the sort of moral ambiguity and growth I love to see in a character, and why I feel Carolyn Fry manages to fit into the ‘strong woman’ archetype better than any of the others I’ve seen, mainly because she’s more believable.

Perhaps we’re so desperate to see strong female characters that we’re willing to pass over any lapses in logic. The Black Widow in The Avengers (2012) for one, should have been taken to the hospital for broken bones after being tossed aside by the Hulk, but she doesn’t even suffer a single fracture, she’s shaken up a bit and she’s back in action. Did anyone else see that they could have done without that scene, just to spare me that crack in the character sheet? While she’s quick-witted, she’s not tempered by science or invincible armor, she’s just a very skilled fighter, and apparently made of rubber.

Being torn in two is perhaps the most relatable part of Fry, at least for me, having encountered the dichotomy of being born in a woman’s body. SPOILER!!!-> Her sacrifice, though unwitting, brings about a climactic end, a lament and a brief spurt of vengeance from the Riddick the anti-hero. <-END SPOILER Ripley on the other hand, the mother of mothers, makes the perfect cut as the sci-fi woman warrior. I know she’s incredibly cool, but a quick read of this article by Michael Davis raises a few relevant points about the Alien films, and may I point out that it was written years ago.

It’s not that I don’t still love Ripley/esque sci-fi warriors, I just find Carolyn Fry’s inner turmoil borne of the vicissitudes of external forces much more approachable, and strangely unsung. I like her more because she is unsure of herself, searching for firm ground to walk upon, because unlike Ripley, she doesn’t know where she stands, steeling her vulnerable frame against the next onslaught.

Rhea Daniel got to see a lot of movies as a kid because her family members were obsessive movie-watchers. She frequently finds herself in a bind between her love for art and her feminist conscience. Meanwhile she is trying to be a better writer and artist and you can find her at http://rheadaniel.blogspot.com/.

Motherhood in Film & Television: Is Terminator’s Sarah Connor an Allegory for Single Mothers?

Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) in Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Mothers are supposed to be everything to everyone. Sadly, society often stigmatizes, vilifies and demonizes single mothers. Single moms are blamed for “breeding more criminals.” Single parenthood is criminalized and “declared child abuse.” On top of that, “almost 70% of people believe single women raising children on their own is bad for society.” WTF? Seriously?? Wow. Way to be misogynistic people.

So it’s no surprise to see broken and dysfunctional single moms reflected on-screen. And don’t get me wrong. I love watching flawed female characters. But what about single mom Sarah Connor, “the mother of destiny?” Often labeled a feminist hero, topping lists for greatest female characters, is she the “ultimate protective single mother?”

Along with Ellen Ripley, Sarah helped pave the way for strong female characters. In Terminator, Sarah (Linda Hamilton) is a friendly college student and food server, lacking confidence, who “can’t even balance [her] checkbook.” Targeted by cyborg assassins sent from the future to kill her son, the future resistance leader fighting against domineering machines, she is thrust into a hellish nightmare fighting for her life. The Sarah (Linda Hamilton) of Terminator 2: Judgment Daytransforms into a badass goddess. With her sculpted muscles doing pull-ups and firing guns, she’s a ferocious warrior filled with rage (something women are rarely allowed to exhibit) yet haunted and struggling with mental stability. In the cancelled-way-too-early fantastic TV series Sarah Connor Chronicles, we witness Sarah (Lena Headey) as a brave single mother, passionate, smart, angry and flawed, doing everything she can to not only survive but thrive.

Sarah Connor (Lena Headey) in Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles

As kickass as she is, Sarah possesses no other identity beyond motherhood. She exists solely to protect her John from assassination or humanity will be wiped out. Every decision, every choice she makes, is to protect her son. In Sarah Connor Chronicles, Cameron tells Sarah that “Without John, your life has no purpose.” Sarah tells her ex-fiancé that she’s not trying to change her fate but change John’s. Even before she becomes a mother in Terminator, her identity is tied to her uterus and her capacity for motherhood.

Now, I realize she’s saving the world, trying to keep her son alive and stop a cyborg onslaught. But the underlying theme — motherhood must consume women — is troublesome. Mothers don’t have to squelch their desires and sacrifice their identity and entire lives in order to be a “good” mother.

Succumbing to the Mystical Pregnancy Trope (which usually reduces women to their reproductive organs) with the father of her baby coming from the future, Sarah’s pregnancy and birth of her son eerily parallels the Virgin Mary and the birth of Christ. A woman who gives birth to a messianic son. Kyle Reese (Sarah’s time-traveling love and baby daddy) tells Sarah she’s revered in the future as a warrior and strategist, for raising and teaching her son John to be a leader and the world’s salvation. So not only is she John Connor’s mother. Sarah transcends her role becoming the mother of humanity.

While not sexualized, Sarah is still defined by her relationship to the men in her life. In the films, there are no women for her to interact with, aside from her roommate Ginger and a female guard at the institution. One of my favorite components of Sarah Connor Chronicles is that we’re introduced to several strong, complex women. Sarah is forced to work with Terminator-reprogrammed-protector Cameron (Summer Glau) whom she distrusts. Of course Cameron isn’t even human. But she takes the form of a teen girl so people she encounters treat her accordingly. While I love the series, it can’t go unnoticed that rather than showcase female camaraderie, the series pits its two female leads against one another — a common media theme — essentially competing for John’s trust.

Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) and John Connor (Eddie Furlong) in Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Single mothers are often portrayed as reckless, promiscuous or damaged. Or the trifecta jackpot…all 3! As competent and fierce as Sarah is, she’s still portrayed as mentally unstable in Terminator 2. Suffering from PTSD, she’s terrorized by nightmares and flashbacks. Sarah’s trauma is never truly discussed, treated as if it’s something she needs to snap out of or shake off. She’s often calmed down and reined in by John. Now, as a child raised by an emotionally unstable single mother, I understand this dynamic. And of course if someone told me I was going to give birth to humanity’s savior, that machines were coming to kill me and then machines did…yeah, I might lose my shit too.

Throughout T2, Sarah’s humanity erodes as she becomes more and more cold and calculated like a machine. Her emotional journey and breakthrough — balancing her fierce survival instincts with her humanity — doesn’t transpire until her son stops her from killing an innocent man and she crumbles, breaking down in tears. Was Sarah’s state of mind depicted to convey her character’s complexity? Or was it to show John’s strength and resolve at such an early age? Either way, it’s her motherhood that essentially conjures her transformation.

A theme throughout the Terminator films and series is “child-rearing divides our attention, making us less fit for heroism.” At the start of Terminator 2, Sarah’s actions cause her to lose custody of John as he’s raised in foster homes. In Sarah Connor Chronicles, she struggles to balance her duties as a nurturing single mom to John and her role as a soldier trying to alter the course of history. In the series, she’s the one reminding John and Cameron about what they’re fighting for: the value and beauty of humanity.

Sarah Connor (Lena Headey) and John Connor (Thomas Dekker) in Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles

While I always love seeing fierce ladies kick ass, punching a foe or firing a gun isn’t synonymous with strength. Many people believe women in action films promote empowerment and equality. But in reality, most female action heroes in film don’t shatter gender stereotypes. They rarely lead as heroes, usually serving as love interests and props to the male protagonist. Ultimately, most female film characters succumb to stereotypical gender roles.

Of the few truly empowered female characters in action films, most (Sarah Connor, Ripley, The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo) are lioness mothers. Linking violence “with the archetype of protectress,” these women risk everything to save their children. But women who are assertive, intelligent, complicated, self-reliant survivors (like Sarah) exhibit empowerment, whether they strap on a gun or not.

Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) in Terminator

Patriarchy presents itself as a constant threat. Like Alien’s Ripley, Sarah constantly tries to assert her agency and is stifled. Both women try to convince the men around them that threats — murderous robots and acid-bleeding aliens — are real. Yet no one heeds their warnings. In T2, when talking to Miles Dyson, the scientist responsible for the creation of Skynet, Sarah talks about the threat of patriarchy and the salvation of motherhood:

“Fucking men like you built the hydrogen bomb. Men like you thought it up. You think you’re so creative. You don’t know what it’s like to really create something; to create a life; to feel it growing inside you. All you know how to create is death…and destruction…”

Sarah designates a gender binary implying that women create and men destroy, reifying the stereotypical gender roles of women as caretakers and men as conquerors. Yet she herself straddles that line — a nurturing, protective mother utilizing violence as a freedom-fighting soldier to save her son and the planet.

Of course, everything John Connor learns can be attributed to his mother’s resilience and ingenuity. And that’s awesome. But while I love Sarah Connor every bit now as I did when I was 10 years old, I can’t shake my unease that just like the majority of films in Hollywood echoing society’s views, a woman is supposed to sacrifice everything for a man. Even her son.

Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) in Terminator 2

On the surface, it seems like the Terminator franchise revolves around a dude often searching for a father figure rather than appreciating his mother. And problematic depictions of motherhood do emerge. But who’s really the hero? Is it the smart hacker son destined to be a leader? Is it the cyborg that learns humanity? Or is it the brave and fierce single mother who sacrifices everything to protect humanity and doesn’t wait for destiny to unfold but takes matters into her own hands?

Ultimately, the Terminatorstory is an allegory of single mothers in today’s world. With her narrations throughout the films and series, we hear her perspective and see the world through her eyes. Whether juggling jobs to pay the rent, balancing the demands of work and raising a child, or battling cyborgs — Sarah crystallizes the sacrifices and struggles single moms endure in a patriarchal society to ensure a better life for their children.

Single mothers aren’t vilified in the Terminator saga, they’re admired and celebrated. If that’s not feminist, I don’t know what is.

Guest Writer Wednesday: The Avengers: Are We Exporting Media Sexism or Importing It?

The Avengers movie poster

This is a guest review by Soraya Chemaly and is posted with permission.

The Avengers opened last week and, shattering records, far outpaced all other Cineplex offerings nationally. The movie grossed more than $200 million over the weekend (compared with The Hunger Games $8 millon weekend receipts and seven week total of $380m). The movie has gotten generally good reviews for plot, witty superhero banter and some interesting character representations – not the least of which focus on the central and relatively well-fleshed out (no pun intended) Scarlett Johansson character, Black Widow. Director Joss Whedon get’s major points for featuring her not as the typical sexy sidekick, but as an actual ass-kicking superhero peer.

However, the movie’s domestic success this weekend was surpassed by its sales overseas. The movie had pre-US release openings in Beijing, Rome, London and Moscow raked in more than a quarter of a billion dollars internationally. The overseas market now makes up 70% of US movie ticket sales. It grew 35% during the past five years, compared to just 6% in the US market. This is important information for how Hollywood, already deplorably lacking in gender balanced production, will or will not portray women in films.

Jeremy Renner and Scarlett Johansson in The Avengers

Because it is a blockbuster megacomic book release there has been much discussion about the female audience for comic books and action films. Suffice to say that there are a lot of women, me included, that are huge fans of both. Despite the presence and strength of the Black Widow character however, the ratio of male to females in this movie is predictably Smurfette Principley: one female to six males and probably the same ratio or much worse in disposable character and crowd scenes. In addition, she appears to be the only character without her own franchise.

This movie’s success however illustrates the question: Are we importing or exporting our sexism? According to the Motion Picture Association, in 2009, women were responsible for more than 50% of US movie ticket sales. You might think that this would elicit some interest in the minds of the men who make movies (and yes, they are still primarily men as evidenced by the stats below). But, instead of the profit potential of American female movie goers resulting in more female lead characters (in every genre) or more female-centered stories, we have a completely different framework for estimating what will sell. Namely, the exponential growth and impact on Hollywood of the global market and the demands that growth places on production and development of content.

Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury in The Avengers

Where does this global growth leave characters like Black Widow and movies with female centric stories or leads? What happens when Hollywood produces movies to meet the needs of the world’s fastest growing and most populated countries – which also happen to be those with the most skewed gendercide-based birth ratios? Cultures that habitually accept the elimination of females aren’t going to be that interested in stories about women and girls, especially those that feature powerful, culture-threatening, transgressive characters.

It means more testosterone heavy action films with women as sex-toys, pawns and eye-candy. It’s why G and PG rated movies, increasingly popular in the US, have been outstripped by R rated movies, which are often loud, violent, fight-filled extravaganzas that don’t require complex characters or plots and can translate across multiple cultures. Cross-cultural entertainment product development, in order to work and be profitable, seeks the lowest common denominator—which it seems is a certain-type of language-neutral male aggression, violence, and power. It’s much trickier, not to mention subversive, to present complex characterizations of men and women that include non-traditional representations of women who are sexually liberated and empowered. Entertainers don’t want to rock the cultural boat, they just want to sell more movie tickets. So, basically, whereas a few members of international audiences might care about the travails of a small-town girl dealing with an unwanted teen pregnancy or even an intergalactic, painted-into-her-tensile-tights, justice-seeking female heroine, all members of international audiences can appreciate being swept away in an asteroid-created tsunami from hell from which strong men seek to protect the planet’s weak, which is why a movie like 2012 made $166 million at the US box office, but made $604 million overseas.

Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow in The Avengers

As a result, it is predictable that the US movie market will see an increase in the seasonal barrage of hyper-masculine, violent super-hero and action-hero films that do much to perpetuate out-dated, harmful hyper-gendered stereotypes of both men and women. Don’t get me wrong, I love some of these movies, but there is a gross imbalance in how films are currenty written, produced and made and there is absolutely no offsetting movies like these with virtually any other entertainment portrayals of women. This sexist, dumbing down of content has real ramifications in our culture as we try to develop a more balanced and genuinely equitable society – especially in terms of entertainment and media representations of gender.

“What makes me so sad is that these films are seen as our cultural imprint,” explains Melissa Silverstein, founder of the Athena Film Festival and of the influential blog, Women and Hollywood. “This is a huge problem because we struggle for women’s stories to be taken seriously, and as the worldwide box office continues to be so important it seems that women will continue to be second class citizens.”

A study released by the USC Annenberg School for Communication & Journalism in December 2011, based on a survey of the top 100 grossing movies of 2009 revealed that 67.8% of all speaking characters (in excess of 5000) were male. In addition, female characters, usually isolated by virtue of there just being one speaking role, were consistently depicted in sexualized ways. Twenty-three percent of women versus 7.4% of men appeared in revealing clothes or partial nudity. The fact that only 3.6% of the directors and 13.5% of the writers of these films are women is particularly telling when you consider that the ratios are substantively different depending on the gender of the story teller: in movies directed by women, 47% of characters are female versus 32%. These ratios are the same as they were in, get ready, 1946.

Jeremy Renner, Scarlett Johansson, and Chris Evans in The Avengers

In reviews of seventeen “Must See” Holiday Movies for families recommended by Common Sense Media in December, only one had a female lead character—Breaking Dawn. The other sixteen feature boys or men in lead roles. The others primarily adhered to the Smurfette Principle. According to The Geena Davis Institute on Gender and Media, the ratio of boys to girls becomes more extreme as they age. In the Institute’s study of the 50 top grossing family movies, females were 32.4% of speaking roles for G rated movies. That number declined to 27.7% for PG-13 movies. Boys outnumber girls in movies three to one. In addition, as in adult movies, girl characters are consistently presented with less clothes and hyper-gendered physical characteristics, like tiny waists. Almost every movie on the list for the past holiday season was told from a male perspective and reviews of these movies did nothing to systematically address the messages sent by their collective presentation.

And I saw no mention, during the reviewing process, of the impact of international ticket sales on product development. But, this is how Chris Dodd, Chairman and CEO of the MPAA put it in regards to overseas sales: “These numbers underscore the impact of movies on the global economy and the vitality of the film-watching experience around the world. The bottom line is clear: people in all countries still go to the movies and a trip to the local cinema remains one of the most affordable entertainment options for consumers.”

Selected portions of this article appeared on the Huffington Post and The Good Men Project.

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Soraya Chemaly writes feminist satire. She is a regular contributor to Fem2.0, The Feminist Wire, Alternet, Role/Reboot and The Huffington Post. She is also the creator of the retired blogs: Poog, a Goop Spoof and The Guide to Manic Moms.

‘The Avengers,’ Strong Female Characters and Failing the Bechdel Test

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) in The Avengers

Cross-posted at Fem2pt0.

Smashing box office records, audiences have been swept up in The Avengers hullabaloo. Interesting and compelling, the epic superhero film based on the Marvel comics unites Black Widow, Captain America, Iron Man, Hawkeye, the Hulk and Thor “to form a team that must stop Thor’s brother Loki from enslaving the human race.” It was good. Really good. It contained complex characters and funny, clever dialogue. In a genre that exhibits strong female characters yet often objectifies women’s bodies or reduces them to ancillary love interests…how was The Avengers’ portrayal of women?

With Joss Whedon, a proud feminist and Equality Now supporter, at the helm directing and screenwriting, I eagerly hoped for a feminist film. I absolutely adore Firefly, only watched a handful of Buffy episodes (I know, I know…I need to watch more), and I couldn’t stand Dollhouse (don’t even get me started on the predication of rape, objectification and misogyny…but I digress). Forever inspired by his radical feminist mother and his love for X-Men character Kitty Pryde, Whedon shows an adept talent for creating and writing strong female characters.

The lone female Avenger is Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), a “highly trained spy,” assassin and martial arts master. Haunted by a dark past, she’s a fearless warrior possessing a razor sharp mind and an impressive knack for interrogation. In one of the best scenes, she goes head to head with the film’s villainous nemesis Loki (and Thor’s brother) in a labyrinthine mind game. While I’m not thrilled that Black Widow uses “feminine wiles” as a method of manipulation, her opponents anticipate vulnerability in her because of her gender. Natasha deftly uses and exploits their stereotypical gender biases to her advantage.

Black Widow could have easily become a one dimensional character. Yet she embodies strength and depth. She’s decisive and forever in control of her emotions. Although I don’t like the implication that being emotional equates weakness. She’s not technically a superhero (nor is her partner archer Hawkeye) as she doesn’t have special powers. Yet she arguably had the best fighting sequences with her nimble and dexterous prowess. There’s one where she’s tied to a chair and kicks ass…it’s seriously amazing! Johansson talked about how she would be delighted to do a Black Widow film in the realm and style of The Bourne Series. That sounds freaking awesome.

Black Widow / Natasha Romanoff

In most films and TV series, the media objectifies and commodifies women’s bodies for the male gaze, reducing a woman to her sexuality. While she dons tight costumes, that doesn’t happen here. She’s not merely a sex object. Black Widow is an integral part of the team. She’s the one who thinks they should all work together when petty arguments and inflated egos threaten to divide them. SPOILER!!! -> Natasha ultimately ends the climactic epic battle as she’s the only one who realizes they need to close the portal in order to halt the influx of the alien army. <- END SPOILER Black Widow plays with gender stereotypes but doesn’t wield her sexuality as a weapon. She uses her ridiculously impressive martial arts ass-kicking skills for that.

Aside from Black Widow, The Avengers film depicts S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders, my favorite actor on HIMYM) and two brief scenes with Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow). Maria is one of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson)’s Chief Lieutenants. She’s calm, collected and authoritative, even in dangerous situations. We see Maria run the deck of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. But she doesn’t approve of controlling people as we see when she criticizes Fury for manipulating The Avengers’ emotions to finagle a specific response. Pepper is the CEO of Stark Industries (Iron Man/Tony Stark’s company), as well as his girlfriend. She’s intelligent, precise, organized and charming.

When asked about Whedon’s strong female characters, Johansson called him “gender blind:”

“He wants his female characters to be dynamic and competitive and assured and confident. And it has nothing to do with anything but the fact that he just celebrates those kinds of strong female characters.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders)

AlterNet’s Julianne Escobedo Shepherd thinks The Avengers possesses a “stark feminist perspective” as it differs from so many other superhero films. Even in movies with multiple female characters like X-Men, the women often orbit the male characters. Not so in The Avengers. Escobedo Shepherd goes further asserting Johansson portrays Black Widow’s “talent for manipulation as a boon for the art of spying, rather than any kind of femme fatale cliché.”

Despite three strong female characters and Black Widow’s awesomeness, I didn’t find the movie overtly feminist. I can’t help but wonder if people are looking to find feminism where not a whole lot actually exists because of Whedon’s reputation. The Avengers contains some gender problems.

Loki hurls a misogynistic insult at Black Widow, calling her a “mewling quim.” Translation, a “whining cunt.” Lovely. He reduces her to her vagina. Now, not everyone’s going to get the inference right away. I know I didn’t. Although something about the condescending tone made me suspect a gendered insult. Whedon says he often “abuses” language, depicting different vernaculars, including Shakespearan dialogue, to reveal character traits. It’s interesting that instead of writing an overt insult, Whedon subversively portrayed Loki’s sexism.

Some people apparently accused Whedon of “not being macho enough” to direct the superhero bonanza. So let me get this straight. If a guy is a proud feminist and writes strong female characters, that makes him unmanly to direct an action movie? And what does that say about women…that female directors possess too much estrogen to direct? Ugh.

Many critics and bloggers have focused on the Hulk, thanks in large part to Mark Ruffalo’s fantastic talent and the hilarious snarky dialogue, thanks to Robert Downey Jr.’s quick wit as Iron Man. Interestingly, of the 6 Avengers, Black Widow gets the 3^rd most screen time. Yet she still remains the only female Avenger in the film. And that’s a problem.

(L-R): Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Captain America (Chirs Evans), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) – The Avengers…and Black Widow as the one female

In the comics, The Avengers had a rotating line-up of superheroes. Couldn’t the movie portray an additional female Avenger, like Wasp or Scarlet Witch or She-Hulk? Maybe they didn’t want two green Hulks. Fair enough. Although She-Hulk, a brilliant attorney, is pretty badass. Whedon even said that when they weren’t sure if they could accommodate Scarlett Johansson’s tight schedule, an early script contained the female superhero (and founding Avenger) Wasp. He “fell in love with the character.”

So here’s my question: why did they have to scrap the role of Wasp the minute they secured Johansson’s Black Widow? Why not have 2 female superheroes in one film?? Sadly, the movie suffers from the Smurfette Principle.

Coined by feminist writer Katha Pollitt in looking at children’s entertainment, the Smurfette Principle is when a male ensemble features one female character. Think the Smurfs (before the introduction of Sassy), the Muppets and Voltron (I’m clearly showing I’m a child of the 80s here). Pollitt asserts that the problem with this trope is that “boys define the group, its story and its code of values. Girls exist only in relation to boys.” As the articulate Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency points out, it transcends children’s entertainment as we see in films like Star Wars, Star Trek, Watchmen and even Inception as well as TV shows like early seasons of Big Bang Theoryand It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Films and TV relegate women to “sidekicks or sexy decorations.” Luckily, Black Widow suffers neither of these fates. She holds her own as a fierce and capable character, neither shoved aside nor reduced to a dude’s love interest. But it’s still problematic that Black Widow is the only female team member. The male Avengers contain multiple male personalities: a sarcastic genius playboy, a lonely selfless soldier, a skilled sniper, and a tortured brilliant scientist. But as far as women’s representation, there’s just one female Avenger. Granted, she’s a badass. But it would have been nice to see more diverse personalities…which might have been rectified with another female superhero.

(L-R): Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson)

But my biggest problem? No women talked to each other. At all. What the hell is up with that??

Like Film School Rejects’ Gwenn Reyes, I too found the glaring lack of women talking to each other to be The Avengers “greatest flaw.” Maria talks to the other Avengers. As Nick Fury’s right-hand person, it makes sense she would interact with the Avengers. Plus Maria and Natasha have probably crossed paths before since Black Widow already worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Couldn’t the two women have talked about the upcoming battle? Or strategized, commiserated…anything??

Just because the portrayals of the female characters were positive, doesn’t mean I think the movie smashed the Bechdel Test, a simple test that asks that two named female characters talk to each other about something other than men. With women comprising only 33% of speaking roles on-screen, The Avengers failing the Bechdel Test proves the cavernous gender gap in film and how far we still need to go.

Let me be clear. Most movies — superhero or otherwise — couldn’t care less about portraying complex, intelligent, strong, dimensional women or gender equitable roles. So The Avengersis a step in the right direction. But if you only depict your two female characters (no matter how empowered they are) talking to men, it subtly reinforces the notion that women’s lives revolve around men.

While it’s a really good action movie with strong female roles, I still expected more feminism from you, Joss Whedon.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Procreation at the End of Civilization: Reproductive Rights on ‘Battlestar Galactica’

The cast of Battlestar Galactica

This is a guest review by Leigh Kolb.

“All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.”

The opening credits of each episode of Battlestar Galactica, which aired from 2004 – 2009, set the premise for the plot: “The Cylons were created by man. They evolved. They rebelled. There are many copies. And they have a plan.” During a few episodes later in the series, the plight for humans’ survival is highlighted with the announcement: “The human race. Far from home. Fighting for survival.” Most of the beginning credits also show the population tally, which dwindles after each battle. President Laura Roslin says at the beginning of their journey, “The human race is about to be wiped out. We have 50,000 people left and that’s it. Now, if we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need to start having babies.”

When a society is thrust into time of struggle and chaos and its existence is threatened, reproductive rights and bodily autonomy are among the first rights to be taken away by those in power. Battlestar Galactica shows us, as good science fiction does, the moral struggles we face now, and what they might look like in the future.

There are moral issues at stake throughout the entire series, including the erosion of prisoners’ and laborers’ rights so that others may live more comfortably. The same critical lens is cast on forced birth, forced abortion, eugenics and abortion restrictions.

Early in the second season, Kara “Starbuck” Thrace has returned to Cylon-occupied Caprica (home planet for the crew of Battlestar Galactica) to find her destiny and aid the resistance, a group of humans who have stayed behind to fight the Cylons. She is kidnapped and knocked out, and wakes up in a hospital bed. Her “doctor” (who later is revealed as a Cylon) tells her she was shot in the abdomen and they have removed the bullet. As she drifts in and out of consciousness, she becomes suspicious. The doctor has excuses for every inconsistency. He tells her they’d operated because they suspected she had a cyst on her ovary. He says, “You gotta keep that reproductive system in great shape… it’s your most valuable asset these days. Finding healthy childbearing women your age is a top priority for the resistance. You are a very precious commodity to us.”

Starbuck replies, “I am not a commodity. I’m a viper pilot.”

Admiral William Adama, left, and President Laura Roslin

He persists, and finally says, “The human race is on the verge of extinction. Potential mothers are a lot more valuable right now than a whole squadron of viper pilots.” He keeps pushing her into more vulnerable territory by bringing up old scars that suggest she was abused, and perhaps that’s why she’s afraid to have children. This pushes Starbuck over the edge and she screams at him to get out.

Her reproduction has become a commodity; it takes precedence over anything that she might be as an individual. When she pushes back against these ideas, she’s made to feel shame and vulnerability, as if that will guilt her into wanting to procreate. This philosophy is consistent among anti-abortion groups—if women are perceived as too strong, independent and resistant to motherhood (as Starbuck certainly is), they simply need to be coerced into realizing the importance of that goal. It’s their responsibility to mother more than anything else.

When she wakes again, she has a new scar and the doctor tells her “We’re just about done with you, Starbuck.” He attempts to put her back under, but she has removed the IV—she’d never told him her handle was Starbuck. She stumbles out of the room—the hospital used to be a mental institution, which begs the audience to consider the implications of maternity and captivity—and overhears the doctor and a Cylon talking about her ovaries, suggesting that her eggs had been harvested or were about to be.

Eventually she kills the doctor, takes his keys and stumbles into a room full of drugged, barely conscious women with their knees up and machines and tubes coming out from under their hospital gowns. She recognizes a friend from the resistance, Sue-Shaun, and tries to start freeing her from the machinery. Instead, she begs Starbuck to kill the power. “It’ll kill you,” Starbuck says, but Sue-Shaun pleads, “I can’t live like this—they’re baby machines. Please. Please.” Starbuck takes a surgical instrument and smashes the power supply; sparks fly, and the women die.

Sharon, a Cylon who has joined ranks with the resistance after falling in love and becoming pregnant with Helo, another viper pilot, informs Starbuck that this was one of the Cylons’ Farms, where human women were taken and inseminated to attempt a human/Cylon breeding program, which hadn’t yet been successful. The Cylons had failed to reproduce naturally, so they were finding other means. Sharon says, “Procreation is one of God’s commandments—be fruitful.” Starbuck fires back that “raping women” is what they’re doing, and Sharon defensively counters that love was the missing component, since she and Helo have successfully become pregnant.

Sue-Shaun’s insistence that the power be shut off, thus killing every woman-turned-incubator, further shows the lengths that women will go to resist reproducing unwillingly. Sharon’s insistence that if love were in the equation, and if a Cylon and human were “set up,” like she and Helo were, that the forced reproduction would somehow be more palatable, shows the ideology that allows these atrocities to be committed—procreation above all. It’s what God wants.

Starbuck “rescues” Sue-Shaun from forced reproduction

All Starbuck wants to do at this juncture is get a raider ship and liberate every Farm—but she’s reminded this is not her destiny. The women, the audience sees, will have to wait. Because while procreation is so important to a threatened species that women’s bodily autonomy and choice can be set aside, righting those wrongs are not among the first priorities.

Later in season two, there is much turmoil surrounding the Sharon and Helo’s pregnancy. Back on Battlestar Galactica, Sharon is in a holding cell because she is a Cylon. President Laura Roslin, who is on her deathbed (she was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer before the attack), orders that Sharon’s baby be aborted after Dr. Cottle tells her that there are some genetic abnormalities showing up in the fetus. Dr. Gaius Baltar disagrees (for self-serving, political reasons). Roslin says, “Allowing this thing to be born could have frightening consequences for the security of this fleet—I believe the Cylon pregnancy must be terminated before it’s too late.”

As Admiral Adama and the men around her question her decision, she remembers something Caprica’s former president said to her and says, “The interesting thing about being president is that you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone” (most certainly a reference to the same quote attributed to President George W. Bush). She is in control, and will use that control over another woman’s body because, being half-Cylon, the fetus is “the other,” and represents the enemy.

As Adama tells Helo the abortion must take place, Helo asserts, “We’re talking about a child—a part of me. I guess it’s easier to kill when you call it a Cylon.”

Sharon reacts with anger and rage, screaming “Let them try and take my baby” to Helo before she starts banging her head bloody into the thick glass keeping her separated from the rest of the fleet. Armed guards come to get her and she uses her chair as a weapon, and they must hold her down and sedate her.

As Sharon is wheeled into the medical unit for the procedure, Baltar bursts into the room saying that the fetal bloodwork has a resistance to disease, and seems to kill cancer cells on contact. Instead of receiving an abortion, blood is drawn from Sharon’s fetus and injected into Roslin. Roslin seizes as Sharon gazes at her from her nearby bed—as Roslin comes to and instantly heals, she and Sharon make eye contact. Two women, utterly in control of one another’s futures.

The cancer is gone. The half-Cylon, half-human is safe.

Back in her holding cell, Sharon’s belly has grown larger, and she strokes her much-wanted future child lovingly. Roslin sees her, and has a pained look on her face.

Again, power, fear and desperation lead those who can to make decisions for other people, especially when those people are “the other.” Procreation is necessary and blessed, unless it’s not.

And just as Sue-Shaun was willing to die instead of mother without her consent, Sharon was willing to kill before losing the baby she wanted.

Later in the series, Sharon’s baby will be taken from her again and, while she has been told the baby is dead, given away to another couple to raise. Starbuck will be haunted by who she’s made to believe is her little girl from her egg harvest, and she’s thrust into a (false) motherhood and personal turmoil. The choices they did not get to make tear them from the life they desired.

Toward the end of season two, after the audience has been presented with the reproductive issues of attempted forced births and abortion, the question of choice in the face of societal turmoil is posed. A stowaway teenager has made it on to Galactica from her colony of Gemenon, where abortion is illegal. Cottle tells Adama that he performs abortions for women: “I do my work, she leaves, I don’t ask a lot of questions.” “You’re going to start,” says Adama, who has been contacted by the frantic parents of the missing young woman.

The young woman says, “It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not going to change my mind,” and then begs them to not send her back, because she is afraid of her parents and the fundamentalist religious rules of her colony—she wants asylum on Galactica.

“Some might say,” says Cottle, “she was the victim of political persecution.”

Adama glares at him, and the doctor walks away.

As is so often the case in matters of reproductive decision-making, the doctor is pushed out of the picture because of politics.

The colonial representative from Gemenon, Sarah, comes to Roslin to plead for the young woman. She says that abortion “is an abomination in the eyes of the gods” and threatens to remove support for Roslin’s campaign unless the young woman is released back to Gemenon.

Roslin is strong in her convictions (at first) that abortion was legal in the Colonies, and it must be legal still. “I’ve fought for woman’s right to control her body my entire career,” she says, clearly struggling with the tension of political and seemingly practical ramifications of her orders.

As she makes these assertions, the white board with 49,584 written on it looms behind her. The population, Adama reminds her, is a consideration, and reminds her that she herself had said, “We’d better start having babies.”

Roslin researches demographics, and Baltar tells her that if humans continue on their present course, they would be extinct in 18 years.

The audience then hears Roslin’s voice at a press conference making a radio address, saying that while people have enjoyed the rights and freedoms they had before the attack, “One of those rights is in direct conflict with the survival of the species.” The pregnant teenager touches and looks down at her swollen abdomen as Roslin says, “We must repopulate the fleet.” She then announces that she’s making an executive order that “anyone seeking to interfere with the birth of a child—mother or medical professional—will be subject to criminal charges.”

Sharon reacts violently to the news that her fetus will be aborted without her consent

However, before the executive order is in place, Roslin is sure that the Gemonese teenager is granted an abortion and asylum.

When Sarah confronts Roslin with this information, she says “Word has it you’re not going to prosecute the Gemonese girl.” Exasperated, Roslin says, “She has a name, Sarah—I think she’s suffered enough… Take your victory and move on.”

Another press conference, another political power play by Baltar on Roslin, and we come full circle again—women’s reproductive rights reduced to a political wedge, to keep support, win voters, and attempt to repopulate the fleet. It’s not about the woman.

Nor is it in 2012 America, on Earth, far away from the notion of battleships and humanoid machines.

While America is still in the throes of economic decline, already in 2012 944 reproductive health and rights provisions have been introduced by legislatures, including many that restrict access to abortion and contraception. Much of the rhetoric used by anti-abortion and anti-contraception factions (like the monotheistic Cylons) includes the ideology that women should be mothers, should embrace motherhood and fulfill their purpose as a procreating species.

At the same time, the US has a legacy of eugenics and sterilization. Even as recently as 2011, a Louisiana lawmaker proposed legislation that would give incentives to poor women to be sterilized. He also has proposed a ban on all abortion—again showing that reproduction is beautiful and necessary—unless the state says otherwise. Modern society is also no stranger to forced adoptions.

The Cylons, throughout the series, demonstrate a monotheistic religion that has similar rhetoric to fundamentalist Christianity. On the other hand, the Colonies are polytheistic—seemingly more progressive and inclusive, having legalized abortion. President Roslin is clear in her personal struggle to make decisions that go against a lifetime of pro-choice activism. Eventually, though, the rhetoric all converges. Women must reproduce for the greater good. Their individual autonomy must be put aside for the fleet, for God/the gods, for politics and for others to live.

At the end of the opening credits of Battlestar Galactica, there is an intense teaser reel of what was coming up in the episode. We would always close or eyes, or look away from the screen, because we didn’t want to see what was coming. It’s easy to do that with every issue that science fiction and dystopian fiction bring before us—look away, because we don’t want to know what’s coming. In reality, these political and moral dilemmas are not taking place in some star system light years away; they are taking place here. They are taking place now.

———-

Leigh Kolb is an English and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri, and has an MFA in creative nonfiction writing. She lives on a small farm with her husband, dogs, chickens, and garden, and makes a terrible dinner party guest because all she wants to talk about is feminism and reproductive rights.

Indie Spirit John Cassavetes Award Nominee Review: Bellflower

Bellflower (2011)

This is a guest post from Deirdre Crimmins.

On the surface Bellflower seems very much like a film made by men, for men. Staring director Evan Glodell, and shot on homemade cameras, the film begins by following Woodrow (Glodell) and his buddy Aiden as they build flame throwers from scratch to outfit their imaginary post-apocalyptic gang “Mother Medusa.” But while watching the film, the stereotypical “dude” exterior quickly wilts away and you are left watching an original, intimate portrayal of a love gone wrong; a love gone, horrifically, violently, and very engagingly wrong. The film ultimately defies gender constraints by showing complex characters that are developed much more than in a typical Hollywood film.

While the film starts by focusing its attention on Woodrow and Aiden’s weapon building, it is not actually about that. The film is actually about Woodrow and Milly. Woodrow first meets Milly at a local bar, where they are both casually hanging with their friends. When the bar introduces a cricket eating competition, both Woodrow and Milly flirt their way up on stage, chomp on those disgusting bugs, and end up in each other’s hearts. The next night they go on their first official date, which they spontaneously turn into a road trip from southern California to a Texas greasy spoon for barbeque. They seem like the perfect match. Both are young, impulsive, pretty hipsters, who are witty, sarcastic, and they enjoy completely launching themselves into the depths of an instant relationship with no reservations.

Milly and Woodrow

The problem comes when these two love birds attempt to settle down and turn their whirlwind romance into a stable, domestic relationship. Milly prophetically warns Woodrow that she is often the one who hurts the other person when in a relationship, but through his rose-colored glasses Woodrow doesn’t believe her. Woodrow becomes smothering, and Milly’s knee jerk reaction is cheating on him, and, ultimately choosing her previous free-spirited lifestyle over Woodrow’s stifling affection. After their heated break-up, an accident leaves Woodrow in the hospital with plenty of time to recover and wallow in his self-pity.

Here is where the ingenuity of Bellflower really begins to take shape. While a different film might follow Woodrow’s plotting to get back at Milly or, more optimistically, try to win her back, these scenarios do not happen here. Woodrow tries to pour himself back in to his work (after all, that car with built-in flamethrowers isn’t going to assemble itself), and even tries to date a friend, Courtney, who has been throwing herself at him. But none of it works, and he cannot get over Milly. He seems to snap suddenly, and wants revenge. Milly is ready for him, and after his attack, she engages with him in an ever-escalating sequence of vengeance. Both Milly and Woodward become monsters: they are unpredictable, and are hell-bent on permanently damaging each other. The film takes a decided turn from romance, to horror, along with buckets of blood, and bodies piling up.

A turn from romance to horror.

This sharp turn in tone is what makes Bellflower memorable. It is impulsive, and does not follow the typical conventions of narrative cinema. However, what makes the film successful in this execution is the extensive character development.

All of the characters in the film are complete, flawed, and at times vulnerable. We get a rare insight into the heart-to-hearts between Aiden and Woodrow. We also can see the internal conflict in Milly as she is torn between being tied down to a man she clearly loves, and the love of her independent life. Both the women and the men are portrayed as actual people, and not single-dimensional caricatures.

Additionally, the treatment of both women and men in respect to their gender portrayals is like a breath of fresh air. Though Aiden and Woodrow spend their time doing typically masculine activities in their workshop, they are doing it because they are unnaturally obsessed with Mad Max, and not because they are acting the part of manly men. And while in their shop, they are usually talking about the machines themselves, and occasionally Milly. As a woman in the audience who thinks flamethrowers are pretty bad-ass too, I am not alienated, or made to feel voyeuristic for peering into their world, because Glodell is not creating any reason for me to think that women would be unwelcome here. If you share their love for post-apocalyptic armament, then you are at home here too.

Milly herself is most decidedly a feminine woman, but the flaws in her character are just single elements that make up the larger web of her personality. When you know very little about a character aside from their flaws (think an evil Disney queen), it is easy for the audience to boil their negative aspects down to their demographics, rather than them as individuals. (For example, the evil queen in Snow White essentially communicates that all older women are evil and will punish people for being younger and more feminine than they are. That read of the queen’s character seems one dimensional, because the character of the queen is in fact one dimensional.) But when the audience is presented with multifaceted character, as Milly is presented, it is impossible to boil her down to an archetype. Milly is a woman scorned, but she is so much more than that. She is a fun loving free spirit, and a cricket eater, and a road trip enthusiast, too. If Hollywood made more of an effort to make these complex characters available for actresses, we would all benefit.

The one caveat to the glowing review of Bellflower’s equitable gender representation is the character of Courtney. She clings to Woodrow, is obviously jealous of Milly, and it is ultimately this obsession that leads to her demise. Courtney is one of the minor characters in the film, and I can only hope that were she given more screen time, she would have been additionally fleshed out and her character would have been more nuanced. Glodell has shown how well he can construct a character, but he needs to work on making even his minor characters avoid stereotypical gender pitfalls.

By showing the complexity of emotions, and human interaction, Glodell takes what could have been a simple revenge flick and makes it a film that sticks with you for some time.

Deirdre Crimmins lives in Boston with her husband and two black cats. She wrote her Master’s thesis on George Romero and works too much.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Going Broke Chasing Boys: Why Disney Ditched Princesses and Spent $300 Million on ‘John Carter’

This is a guest post from Scott Mendelson. Originally published at Mendelson’s Memos.

If you’ve seen the trailer for the upcoming John Carter, you know that not only does it not look like it cost $300 million, but it so painfully feels like a Mad Libs male-driven fantasy blockbuster that it borders on parody. It’s no secret that Disney thinks it has a boy problem. One of the reasons it bought Marvel two years ago was to build up a slate of boy-friendly franchises. And the last two years have seen an almost embarrassing attempt to fashion boy-friendly franchises (Prince of Persia, Tron: Legacy, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, I Am Number Four, Fright Night, and Real Steel), only half of which were even as successful as their alleged flop The Princess and the Frog (which obviously grossed ‘just’ $267 million on a $105 million budget because it starred a character with a vagina). We can only ponder the reasons why Disney decided to outright state that they were never going to make another fairy-tale princess cartoon again, even after Tangled became their most successful non-Pixar toon since The Lion King, but I’m pretty sure Disney won’t be making such statements about boy-centric fantasy franchises anytime soon.

Now we have John Carter, which allegedly cost $300 million (if not more). It’s being released in March, where only one film (to be fair, Disney’s Alice In Wonderland) has ever even grossed $300 million. Hell, in all of January-through April, there have been just five $200 million grossers (The Passion of the Christ, Alice In Wonderland, How to Train Your Dragon, 300, and Fast Five). So you have yet another film that basically has to shatter all records regarding its release date in order to merely break even. But that’s okay, thinks Disney, because John Carter is a manly science fiction spectacle so it is surely worth risking the bank. Disney is so desperate to not only chase the young male demos that is willing to risk alienating the young female demos that has netted it billions of dollars over the many decades. What they fail to realize is that the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise (especially the first three films) was rooted in telling a story that crossed gender lines. All-told, the original trilogy actually revolved around Keira Knightley’s character, and her journey from daughter of privilege to outlaw pirate. I Am Number Four is a perfect example of this clear misunderstanding. Disney and Dreamworks decided to cash in on Twilight by making a variation told from the point of view of the super-powered teen boy, a story which turned the ‘Bella’ character into just another stock love interest to be sidelined for the third act.

If you look at Disney’s future slate, with the arguable exception of Pixar’s Brave (the first Pixar film to feature a girl, a warrior princess no less), they have almost no female-driven movies between now and 2014. Oh wait, I’m sorry…they ARE releasing Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid in 3D over the next two years. My mistake. I may complain about the frenzy of upcoming live-action fairy tale adaptations, but at least those are big-budget movies centering around a female protagonist. It would seem that Disney, as a corporation, genuinely places less value on the female audience than the male audience. Money is money, and sweaty bills from girls should be just as green as bills from boys. Yet Disney apparently so disdains its core audience (young girls) that it not only has stopped chasing them (in the knowledge that they will buy princess merchandise anyway) but has risked untold millions on the most generic possible new franchise, with no star power and little to distinguish itself from a hundred other such films, purely because ‘it’s a boy movie’. In a way, Disney has become just like the Democratic Party, risking alienation of their base because they know that the young girls (and their parents) won’t really ever jump ship.

Scott Mendelson is, by hobby, a freelance film critic/pundit who specializes in box office analysis. He blogs primarily at Mendelson’s Memos while syndicating at The Huffington Post and Valley Scene Magazine. He lives in Woodland Hills, CA with his wife and two young kids where he works in a field totally unrelated to his BA in Film Theory/Criticism from Wright State University.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Journey 2 Posters: Painfully Obvious Sexism Watch

This is a guest post from Scott Mendelson. Originally published at Mendelson’s Memos.

One of these Journey 2 posters is not like the other. Hint, it’s the one with giant boobs that are more important than giant bees.

Here are four character posters (and one main poster) for Warner Bros’ upcoming Journey 2: The Mysterious Island. Each poster highlights a lead character and a respective giant animal menace. As you can clearly see, the focus point of three of the posters is the actual special effects creation that is chasing our heroes. In three of the posters, the human character is smaller than the monsters, thus making the giant animals themselves the center of our attention.

Of course, the middle poster in the top row, the one highlighting Vanessa Hudgens is a bit different. In her poster, the flying bee creature is smaller than Hudgens’s profile. So if the giant bee is not the center of attention, if it isn’t the fx monster in this poster, than what is?

Why, Hudgens’s boobs of course. As you can see, the largest thing on the poster, the thing that is clearly intended to be the focus point for Hudgens’s poster is the young actress’s rack.

The marketing team at Warner Bros. didn’t see fit to fetishize Dwayne Johnson’s massive muscles or any manly attributes that Josh Hutcherson may possess. But in her character poster (and the main poster on the bottom right), the young actress’s breasts are apparently the main attraction.

Because of course when you’re a girl in a generic or male-driven mainstream genre film, even when it’s a PG-rated adventure aimed at younger kids, the only marketable attributes you have is your ‘fuck-ability’. Stay classy, Warner.

Scott Mendelson is, by hobby, a freelance film critic/pundit who specializes in box office analysis. He blogs primarily at Mendelson’s Memos while syndicating at The Huffington Post and Valley Scene Magazine. He lives in Woodland Hills, CA with his wife and two young kids where he works in a field totally unrelated to his BA in Film Theory/Criticism from Wright State University.

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

Gina Carano as Mallory Kane in ‘Haywire’

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mallory Kane (Gina Carano); ‘Haywire’ still frame

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

The film contains some brutally graphic fighting sequences. I found the opening scene especially jarring. While I love action films, I abhor the glorification of violence against women. But it never felt like that. Instead I found it refreshing for the action scenes to not be softened because of Carano’s gender.

But regardless of her gender, Mallory Kane is clearly the best of the best in the film’s universe. Michael Douglas’s character pays an exorbitant amount of money to take her out of another assignment in order to hire her for his own project. She combats men (and wins), chokes people with her thighs, leaps across buildings, shoots guns, rides motorcycles, runs up a wall, drives a car backwards in the snow and disarms guns from law enforcement. There’s seriously nothing Mallory (and probably Carano) can’t do.

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

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

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