Adventure – Page 6 – Bitch Flicks

‘The Amazing Spider-Man 2’: Rise of Electrozzzzzzzz

‘The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Rise of Electro’ is one of those rare movies to opt for a soft open abroad before its US release, so I got to see it a week before y’all. Yay for me, I guess? I won’t spoil anything for you, unless you consider “it’s not very good” to be a spoiler.

Spider-man insists: "No Spoilers!" — Spider-Man insists: “No Spoilers!”

The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Rise of Electro is one of those rare movies to opt for a soft open abroad before its US release, so I got to see it a week before y’all. Yay for me, I guess? I won’t spoil anything for you, unless you consider “it’s not very good” to be a spoiler.

Unlike its predecessor, which was essentially a remake of a movie that was only 10 years old, Amazing Spider-Man 2 is not completely pointless out of the gate. It at least has the opportunity to tell a story we haven’t seen on film before. And all comic book movie sequels benefit from not needing to spend the whole first act on the origin story. But Amazing Spider-Man 2 squanders that advantage with indulgent origin stories for two of the three (!) supervillains in the piece (alongside various goons within the evil Oscorp empire. Like the terrible third installment of the last Spider-Man franchise, Rise of Electro goes for quantity in lieu of quality with its antagonists).

We spend a good bit of time with Jamie Foxx’s Max Dillon before he becomes Electro, and he’s unfortunately one of those “aren’t socially awkward geeks THE WORST and also probably mentally unstable?” characters in a movie that only exists because of a massive fanbase of geeks (some of whom may be socially awkward and/or mentally unstable. I’m all three and I have yet to become a supervillain). And Foxx just isn’t convincing as a socially awkward geek, even with every nerd alert! cliché imaginable up to and including a pocket protector:

Becoming an electricity-controlling villain doesn’t make the character any more interesting. He suffers from the Green Lantern problem of showing little creativity in exercising his phenomenal powers. Dude can decorporealize into electric energy and he pretty much just makes lightning bolts. Electro could be completely eliminated from the movie, and it would still be long enough and have sufficient plot. That’s not a good place to be with your main villain and the subject of your film’s subtitle. (Contrast Captain America 2‘s Winter Soldier, who despite not having much screen time is the catalyst for the highest emotional stakes in the film; and finds more ways to be creatively violent with just super strength and a metal arm than Electro does with godlike powers.)

Dane DeHaan and Harry Osborn — Dane DeHaan as Harry Osborn

Somewhat less bland is Harry Osborn, even though he’s one of the recycled bits from Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man films. Now, Reader, I must confess that around midway through Dane DeHaan’s first scene as Harry, with the same old “poor little rich boy” daddy issues but with a comb-overed rat weasel in the place of James Franco, I turned to my viewing companion and whispered, “I miss the hot one.”

But as soon as DeHaan shared the screen with Andrew Garfield, I wanted to take it all back. Reconnecting with childhood friend Peter, Harry gets much-needed dimension by having something to do other than pout. To my astonishment, the comb-overed rat weasel started to charm me! It helps that DeHaan and Garfield’s chemistry is second only to Garfield and Stone’s, who are ACTUALLY IN LOVE.

Also, weasels are kind of cute! Who knew?

So even when Harry went back to his busy moping and raging schedule, I delighted in DeHaan’s scenery-chewing hyperdrama. He stopped looking so much like a weasel and more like a young Leonardo DiCaprio. Could this dude end up on the countless teen girls’ bedroom walls?

Dane DeHaan as Harry Osborn — Probably not.

My reversal regarding Dane DeHaan reminded me how nice it must be to be a dude actor and not have to be particularly attractive to succeed. Emma Stone is fantastic and all, but maybe there’s a rat-faced Gwen Stacy out there who would have really blown the doors off?

And it’s possible DeHaan was only so interesting to me because I was desperate for something to sustain me through the interminable 142 minutes of this movie. I would have rather spent that time watching that clip of Emma Stone lip synching 57 times in a row, and I suggest you do the same.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town. She cannot do whatever a spider can.

Agency and Gendered Violence in ‘Thelma and Louise’

These characters challenge our gendered assumptions about sex, trauma, and vengeance, which can make audiences uncomfortable. I was likely too young when I first watched ‘Thelma and Louise’ (Ridley Scott, 1991). However, I remember the surge of adrenaline I felt when Louise shot and killed Thelma’s rapist, how incredibly good it felt to idolize these convict women who had had enough with their monotonous lives, at an age when I couldn’t possibly comprehend patriarchal oppression, the comforts of solidarity and sisterhood, or the concept of escapism utilized not necessarily to run away but rather to find your wildest, most genuine self.

Written by Jenny Lapekas as part of our theme week on Rape Revenge Fantasies.

The rape revenge subgenre, typically within the horror realm, is a topic I’ve thought about a lot. Rape revenge offers catharsis, fantasy, and a feminist departure from the very real patriarchy, where rape is too often underreported or the victim is dismissed as “wanting it” or “asking for it” via her short skirt. The avenger of the rape revenge film appropriates the criminal act for his or her own empowerment, hence swapping gender roles. Because rape is typically perpetrated by men, women who respond with violence in the form of murder or another rape represent a wonderfully complex hero/villain binary. When male perpetrators are violated and/or killed by feminist avengers, what does their feminization mean? That rape is inherently masculine and carried out on the helpless feminine? The agency of violence is also in question within this discussion; how do viewers navigate feminine (feminist) violence? These characters challenge our gendered assumptions about sex, trauma, and vengeance, which can make audiences uncomfortable. I was likely too young when I first watched Thelma and Louise (Ridley Scott, 1991). However, I remember the surge of adrenaline I felt when Louise shot and killed Thelma’s rapist, how incredibly good it felt to idolize these convict women who had had enough with their monotonous lives, at an age when I couldn’t possibly comprehend patriarchal oppression, the comforts of solidarity and sisterhood, or the concept of escapism utilized not necessarily to run away but rather to find your wildest, most genuine self.

Thelma is submissive and looks to the confident Louise as a feminist role model.

Thelma and Louise seems such an obviously feminist movie, which is why I’d like to focus on Thelma’s rape scene, which galvanizes the pair’s journey thereafter. I suggest that the film is constructed, then, around the rape narrative, amidst a postfeminist storyline of female bonding and spiritual awakening. We can easily assess Thelma’s placement as a female character who initially lacks agency; rather, she soothes her husband’s temper tantrums and manages the household. Like many unhappily married women, she hasn’t a clue what to do about her unhappiness or even how to fully recognize or own it. The murder of her rapist unleashes a crime spree, but also the act of radical surrender, from which Thelma acknowledges she cannot and will not recover. This theme of agency is birthed in the rape scene and then climaxes in the famous concluding scene of the women sailing into the Grand Canyon. Both women make the choice to respond to violence with violence, which is the feminist agency found within the rape-revenge genre. Women like Thelma and Louise who carry out these acts of violence in order to avenge a rape challenge our cultural understanding of violence as rhetoric and gendered behavior onscreen.

Thelma under the rule of her short-tempered husband and Louise involved in a complicated relationship, the duo plan their vacation with the most innocent of intentions. We hear Louise call Thelma a “little housewife” in the film’s opening scene, where Louise is introduced to us in her waitress uniform and Thelma is a floral bathrobe. As she’s packing for their getaway, we see Thelma toss a handgun into her bag as if she’s frightened or repulsed by it; she’s clearly aware of the power the classically phallic symbol boasts, even laying at the bottom of her bag. When Louise asks her why she bothered to bring it, Thelma says, “Psycho killers, bears, snakes.” Little do they know that Harlan, the man who attempts to rape Thelma, can be characterized as a “snake,” and they’re the ones who become killers as a result.

I have some trouble taking Christopher McDonald (who plays Darryl, Thelma’s controlling husband) seriously since he’s so incredibly convincing in his roles as goofy characters (see Happy Gilmore [Dennis Dugan, 1996] and Requiem for a Dream [Darren Aronofsky, 2000]). However, the film’s portrayal of Darryl doesn’t inspire any respect for his character.

Darryl finds that he’s unable to adequately care for himself in Thelma’s absence; Hal even points out during questioning that he’s standing in leftover pizza.

We’ve seen men act as the heroes who thwart rape and assault the would-be rapists (see Untamed Heart [Tony Bill, 1993] and Training Day [Antoine Fuqua, 2001]), but it seems important that in this film, the hero is a woman and a trusted friend who interrupts the crime and actually murders the man attempting to violate Thelma. Their guns–one bought by Darryl to protect his wife when alone at night and the other stolen from a police officer–are clear representations of male power and privilege; however, the women become quite comfortable appropriating these as weapons in dismantling the phallocracy that governs their choices, their bodies, and their realities while on their infamous road trip.

The rape scene takes place during the first stop on their trip as the ladies are set to travel to the mountains for a getaway. When Harlan insists that Thelma get some fresh air after a night of drinking and dancing, he tells her that he won’t hurt her, even after hiking up her dress and slapping her in the face. The level of violence intensifies after she slaps him back, and he bends her over a car and begins to unbuckle his pants. Louise holds a gun to Harlan’s neck as he puts his hands up and allows Thelma to collect herself and stand up. It seems that perhaps Harlan will walk away unscathed and even learn a lesson from the experience. However, he seals his fate when he’s compelled to say, “I shoulda gone ahead and fucked her.” When Louise turns and asks him to repeat himself, he responds, “Suck my cock,” a fitting sentiment to preface Thelma’s phallic gun exploding and hitting him in the chest. We gather throughout the film that something happened to Louise in Texas, and it quickly becomes clear that she was the victim of a rape. Gender-based violence is turned on its head as Louise assumes a position of power, and thus a codified male position. Thelma’s situatedness within this hierarchy is slow to align with that of the hot-tempered Louise, but when she does transition from “feminine” to “feminist,” she admits that she seems to “have a knack for this shit.” Shortly before their deaths, Thelma tells Louise that she’s never felt so awake, alerting us that she’s reached a sort of nirvana amidst the mini liquor bottles and desert heat.

We can appreciate Louise's sense of humor in this moment of tension: “You let her go, you fuckin’ asshole, or I’ll splatter your ugly face all over this nice car.” — We can appreciate Louise’s sense of humor in this moment of tension: “You let her go, you fuckin’ asshole, or I’ll splatter your ugly face all over this nice car.”

Immediately after the incident, Louise cradles the gun in her hands as the two ride away, as if she’s trying to grasp the power the small pistol carries. The naive Thelma believes that they can safely go to the police and explain that it was self-defense, but Louise offers the reality that “we don’t live in that kind of a world.” Rather, we live in a world that punishes women for attracting men and “asking for it” with our clothing or our smiles. “If you weren’t concerned with having so much fun, we wouldn’t be here right now,” Louise accusingly tells Thelma. Although Louise is the one to shoot and kill Harlan, she inevitably blames the entire incident on Thelma’s good looks and also acts as a surrogate Darryl, which Thelma even articulates early on in the trip. Thelma is almost childlike in her naiveté, which calls for a guardian or a mother to constantly reprimand her and correct her behavior. Louise maintains this role as she protects and guides Thelma for most of the film.

The men in the film seem to get themselves into hot water over the lewd and otherwise disrespectful ways they choose to speak to Thelma and Louise.

So, does Louise successfully avenge Thelma’s assault or does she have her own axe to grind? Is Louise, a killer, any better than Harlan or any other rapist slithering through crowded bars or dark streets? Thelma and Louise offers a feminist catharsis for women viewers, particularly those who are rape survivors, but also for all of us who have been cat-called as perpetual objects of the male gaze. How many of us now fantasize about blowing up a semi because its driver was making lecherous comments or gesturing with his hands or tongue? This film serves as a reminder that we deserve to live our lives in peace, free from harassment, and to stop apologizing for ourselves or assuming that our clothing is an invitation for men to put their hands on us. While Louise makes the decision to repress the memory of her own rape, she actively chooses to avenge the rape of her friend. Although a murderer, Louise is a hero as she likely prevents any rapes Harlan would have committed had she allowed him to live.

It’s gratifying to witness the transition of the pair’s feminine and feminist identities. While Thelma makes the noticeable shift from a bored housewife planning dinner to a badass outlaw with a gun, Louise comes to recognize her companion as an equal and to surrender some of her power before the two fly into the Grand Canyon in a blaze of girl-power glory. Louise identifies her friend’s rape as her own, and unlike Thelma, she is familiar with what some men are capable of in dark parking lots. The dynamic that propels the plot of Thelma and Louise is friendship, even if that entails a sort of religious awakening on the road (Kerouac style), albeit it via gender equality by way of violence and its appropriation. Notice that the women and their actions are met with disdain when they demonstrate traditionally “masculine” behavior, such as anger, aggression, and sarcasm. When Louise initially orders Harlan to stop attacking Thelma, he ignores her; when Thelma finally tells Darryl to go fuck himself, he slams the phone down in disbelief; when the horny trucker discovers that the ladies expect an apology instead of a threesome, he calls them “crazy.” The women’s actions, then, are met with resistance by most of the men they encounter on their travels, with the exceptions of Hal (Harvey Keitel), the kindhearted cop who longs to help the women, and JD, Thelma’s paramour for one rainy night.

JD steals the money that Louise calls their “future” in Mexico but also unknowingly offers a remedy to their money crisis when he gives Thelma some charismatic lessons on how to rob a store at gunpoint.

I would suggest that these actions are not meant so much to heal or cleanse the two of their pain or their own crimes, but to “right a wrong” even if it means sacrificing their freedom; in this way, the women discover a new sense of liberation that transcends the pursuit of them in their beat up old Thunderbird convertible. Toward the end of the film, Thelma shares with Louise that if Harlan had completed his assault against her, people would think that she was “asking for it,” and that she’s sorry it wasn’t her that pulled the trigger. What we can conclude from this exchange is that any course of events post-rape would leave Thelma “ruined” in some way, but she explains that because of her friend, now she’s at least having fun.

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Jenny Lapekas has a Master of Arts degree in English, and she is a part-time instructor at Alvernia University. Her areas of scholarship include women’s literature, menstrual literacy, and rape-revenge cinema. You can find her on WordPress and Pinterest.

The Women of ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’

As I wrote last week, I love me some Peggy Carter, and worried about how ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’ would fare (mostly) without her. So I was pumped that Peggy not only appears from the past (interviewed in a video presentation in the Smithsonian exhibit on Captain America), but as an ailing nonagenarian Steve still calls “his best girl.”

And even better, the other women in the film are all some shade of awesome. I wanted more from all of them, but I’m greedy like that.

Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow in Captain America: The Winter Soldier

[This review contains spoilers]

As I wrote last week, I love me some Peggy Carter, and worried about how Captain America: The Winter Soldier would fare (mostly) without her. So I was pumped that Peggy not only appears from the past (interviewed in a video presentation in the Smithsonian exhibit on Captain America), but as an ailing nonagenarian Steve still calls “his best girl.”

And even better, the other women in the film are all some shade of awesome. I wanted more from all of them, but I’m greedy like that.

The other Carter to make an appearance is Emily VanCamp’s Agent 13, who is originally introduced as “Kate,” Steve’s cute neighbor from across the hall, who is quickly revealed to be a S.H.I.E.L.D operative tasked to keep an eye on Steve. And let’s be real: all this character needs to do in this movie is exist, click off another “canonical comic character” box and give a bit more set-up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe should she become Cap’s love interest as she has been in the comics. As S.H.I.E.LD is revealed to be riddled with corruption and infiltrated by evil organization HYDRA, we assume Agent 13 is One of the Good Guys because she looks concerned when they cut to her in the control room scenes. She doesn’t get much dialogue, but she does punch a few bad guys at some point, I think. There’s so much punching in this movie I couldn’t keep track of all of it. (Note: this is not really a criticism.) Anyway, she’s Sharon Carter, who will theoretically be some relative of Peggy’s, and in the next sequel she and Cap will probably smooch. They’re is plenty of time to develop her character before Captain America 3 comes out in 2016.

Steve Rogers and Natasha in battle in their civvies

The woman with the most screen time in the film is Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow. A lot of critics are saying this is her most substantial outing in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (at least the ones not still hung up on her being mere eye candy), but The Avengers still made the best use of her character. While she may be on screen more in Winter Soldier, she’s not as crucial to the plot here, and not quite as lovable. I was a little put off by her fixation with Steve’s love life, finding it out of character and merely an instrument to highlight Steve’s loneliness. But that’s a minor quibble: Black Widow is still a total badass in this movie, and gets in some great snarky lines, and looks hot doing it.

But what really made Black Widow work in The Avengers was the glimpses of her vulnerability: her genuine fear of The Hulk, he anguish over Hawkeye, her guilt over her past. These made her badass moments so much more satisfying, in particular the turnaround in her interrogation of Loki when she gets him to say too much leaning in to these weaknesses. In the Winter Soldier, Black Widow’s vulnerability is demonstrated through physical injury, which is dramatic, sure, but superficial and less interesting.

And I know, I know, “strong but vulnerable” is the oldest cliché in the book when it comes to well-developed female characters. But that’s because “strong but vulnerable” is what makes characters, irrespective of gender, someone to root for and relate to. And sure, the vulnerable side of the equation for female characters appeals to some because it reinforces sexist ideas about women’s weaknesses. But for me, vulnerability is especially important when it comes to action heroines, to escape the trope of The Fighting Fucktoy (which is exactly what Black Widow was when she first appeared in Iron Man 2).

Speaking of absence of vulnerability: Cobie Smulders as Maria Hill returns, and remains on the precipice of awesome. I’m patiently waiting for her character to get fleshed out a bit in the MCU, because all we know about her now is that she’s extremely tough. While she’s not as sexualized as Natasha Romanoff has sometimes been, she still looks like Cobie Smulders, and I want her to be more than a Hot Chick With a Gun. She’s the person Nick Fury calls when he’s in trouble. I want to know why. (In the Black Widow movie the whole world desperately wants to see, she could be Natasha’s buddy cop. MAKE IT HAPPEN, MARVEL.)

All in all, Captain America: The Winter Soldier does all right by its women. I’m also going to award it feminism points for the thematic importance of male friendship, because dudes have emotions too! This comes primarily from the epic drama of Steve vs. The Winter Soldier, who is none other than his childhood best friend and fallen comrade Bucky Barnes, which brings about a tremendous amount of what I believe the internet refers to as “feels.” (Bucky is remarkably emotional for someone allegedly brainwashed. I reached the point where I had to stifle my laughter every time his face was in closeup because he’s soooooo tortured. Part of me thinks I laughed so I wouldn’t cry. The other part of me is still chuckling).

The Winter Soldier and his eye beams of inner turmoil

But there’s also Steve and his new BFF Sam Wilson (an unstoppably charming Anthony Mackie), who joins him in what’s pretty much a suicide mission as The Falcon because that’s what good bros do when their buddy is dismantling a corrupt government organization. Steve and Sam bonding over returning from combat and laughing at their own dumb inside jokes is the perfect counterbalance to the tooooooorturrrrred broken relationship between Bucky and Steve.

Best Friends Best Friends Baking a Cake!

Captain America: The Winter Soldier definitely gets my geeky stamp of approval (I can see this being in heavy rotation for me when it comes out on video), and it is nice that doesn’t have to be “in spite of” its treatment of women. If you are even a little bit of a comic book movie fan, you should see this one.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer who has dressed up as Captain America for Halloween.

Black Widow is More Than Just a Pretty Face in ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’

Captain America: The Winter Soldier was everything I expected and a little more. Captain America has always been the strait-laced cousin to Iron Man and Thor. It doesn’t have the campy good humour that is so delightful about Thor or the kind of brash arrogance that typifies Iron Man. Captain America is generally the “nice guy” of the Marvel universe. Co-headlining is Scarlett Johansen reprising her role as Natasha Romanoff (alias Black Widow) for this movie. Her character was first introduced to us in the universe in Iron Man 2 where her portrayal was that of a sexed-up femme fatal. However over subsequent movies, particularly The Avengers, she has evolved into a pretty decent three dimensional character.

The movie opens with Cap, aka Steven Rogers (Chris Evans), and Black Widow having to go rescue some hostages from a covert S.H.I.E.L.D boat that had run afoul of pirates. I was quite excited at first because the pirates spoke French and presented as white to my eyes. “Omg the bad guys aren’t brown people,” I whispered excitedly to my partner. This notion was to be destroyed later when someone said something about “French pirates” to be told something along the lines of ‘They’re Algerian actually.” Oh well, it was nice while it lasted. They are mostly a macguffin anyway. The raid on the boat reveals the fundamental difference between Romanoff and the Cap. He always strives to do what is right while she does what she believes (or is told) is necessary. This is an on-going theme throughout the movie. What is necessary is sometimes not what can be considered morally right, but does that make it any less necessary?

From this point on, it is pretty much what you would expect from a superhero flick. Many fights and explosions held together by a storyline that taps into people’s fears about NSA surveillance and how topical the temptation to trade freedom for security is. There is some strong messaging about the value of personal liberties and the consequences that can occur when these are overstepped even on the basis of protecting us from what might be lurking out there in the depths.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier also introduces us to another lesser known hero from the Marvel universe, Falcon. Anthony Mackie does a great job and manages to be funny and endearing while also being totally badass. His introduction also provides a much needed perspective about the difficulties soldiers have on their return home, something most action movies don’t touch with a stick. This follows up neatly from Iron Man 3 where Tony Stark was clearly seen to be suffering from mental health consequences from his time in The Avengers. I really appreciate how the Marvel universe movies manage to slip in every now and then that violence is not without consequences to the one who commits it. I really hope we get to see more of Falcon in subsequent Marvel universe movies. It is really great to have the introduction of a super-hero of colour to the film universe and he is a nice addition to the team of Romanoff and Rogers.

One of the interesting things I have found about the Marvel universe movies is how they play with the heterosexual female gaze. Who can forget the close-up of the Cap’s buttocks while he was working out his frustrations on a punching bag in The Avengers and Thor’s shirtless scenes in both Thor and Thor: The Dark World. In Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Captain’s body is very much on display. When he is not in uniform he wears an extremely tight white t-shirt that appears to be custom designed to show of each of his muscles. His uniform also appears to be built to highlight his physique.

On the other hand, the movie is blessedly free of a seduction by the Black Widow scene. Unlike in other Marvel movies that she has appeared in (primarily Iron Man 2), she does not need to use her feminine wiles to get her job done. Instead we are treated to a display of Natasha’s tech and problem solving skills. She also kicks ass, Her fighting style tends towards stealthy and efficient in contrast with the Cap’s flashy shield-throwing antics, but that is almost a side note to her intelligence in this movie..

Interestingly and unfortunately, most reviewers have been unable to see this. Her costume is tight, but then so is the captain’s and we are not treated to lingering shots of her butt and cleavage; in fact, most of the time we are looking at her face and not her body. Generally speaking the captain is at least if not more so objectified than she is and yet we do not seem to allow that to interfere with his essential humanity. This is often not the case when it comes to the perception of Johansen’s character. People can’t seem to see past the fact that she wears a cat suit even when she does so much more than look sexy. Like most action movies, this one doesn’t pass the Bechdel test but unlike most action movies it provides us with a female character who is actually a character in her own right. She doesn’t exist merely to reveal plot points about the captain and provide fodder for the heterosexual male gaze. Black Widow tends to gain unfavourable comparisons to Natalie Portman’s Jane Foster in the Thor movies because Jane is a scientist and doesn’t prance around in skin tight leather. However this is a failure to realise that Romanoff’s leather is a distraction from the quick mind, loyal friend and ruthless agent that she is. The movie does a great job with providing tantalising details about Natasha’s past, hopefully because they intend to make a stand alone Black Widow movie. I really hope that this is the case because Romanoff is an interesting character that deserves a thorough exploration in her own right.

If you like superhero movies I think that this is one to watch. While the emphasis is definitely on the effects, it also manages to carry a fairly intelligent engaging storyline and entertain throughout.

Gaayathri Nair is currently living and writing in Auckland, New Zealand. You can find more of her work at her blog A Human Story and tweet her @A_Gaayathri.

The Best Part of ‘Captain America’ is in the Past: An Appreciation of Peggy Carter

Following my geek programming, I re-watched ‘The First Avenger’ in preparation for ‘The Winter Soldier.’ And I was reminded of the sad truth that the best parts of the first flick can’t carry on to this one, because they’re in the 1940s and now Steve Rogers is in the present.

And the best of the left-behind best is Peggy Carter, Hayley Atwell’s British intelligence agent working with the Scientific Strategic Reserve, a precursor to S.H.I.E.L.D. As a British woman surrounded by American military men, Peggy obviously sticks out, but she’s so self-possessed, confident, and skilled that it doesn’t seem far-fetched for her to be in the inner-circle. It’s wonderful to see how the higher-ups, even cad Howard Stark (Tony’s dad) and crotchety Col. Phillips, accept her presence and authority implicitly. The enlisted men who give her guff are quickly put in their place by her tendency to shoot at things that annoy her, which somehow comes across as less reckless than it actually is, probably because she’s so generally competent.

[This review contains potential spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier comes out tomorrow in the US*, with abundant preview showings tonight. I’ve been eagerly anticipating it, even though I remembered Captain America: The First Avenger as just “pretty good,” because I have been programmed by my geeky upbringing to eagerly anticipate all superhero movies.

Further following my geek programming, I re-watched The First Avenger in preparation for The Winter Soldier. And I was reminded of the sad truth that the best parts of the first flick can’t carry on to this one, because they’re in the 1940s and now Steve Rogers is in the present.**

And the best of the left-behind best is Peggy Carter, Hayley Atwell’s British intelligence agent working with the Scientific Strategic Reserve, a precursor to S.H.I.E.L.D. As a British woman surrounded by American military men, Peggy obviously sticks out, but she’s so self-possessed, confident, and skilled that it doesn’t seem far-fetched for her to be in the inner circle. It’s wonderful to see how the higher-ups, even cad Howard Stark (Tony’s dad) and crotchety Col. Phillips, accept her presence and authority implicitly. The enlisted men who give her guff are quickly put in their place by her tendency to shoot at things that annoy her, which somehow comes across as less reckless than it actually is, probably because she’s so generally competent.

Peggy gets extra points for showing Steve respect and care before he gets all Hunkified, and then falling for his integrity and heart even with all those distracting muscles. The best thing about Captain America as a character is that his moral decency is as freakishly overdeveloped as his pecs, and that’s clearly what Peggy adores about him, which makes me adore her.

There is no amount of decency that will get you out of this situation

I’ll even give her a pass for getting mad at Cap for locking lips with Natalie Dormer, even though no one should be faulted for kissing Natalie Dormer. Peggy isn’t just jealous, she’s disappointed to see any shade on Cap’s aura of decency, which is much more understandable and forgivable. And of course, Captain was “innocent,” and she forgives him in time to tearfully talk him through his self-sacrifice at the end of the film.

And now Cap’s unfrozen seventy years later, and they’re a Peggy Carter-shaped hole in his story. Fortunately, Hayley Atwell is reportedly appearing in flashbacks in The Winter Soldier. She also starred in her own short film “Agent Carter” included in the Iron Man 3 blu-ray, and has a television series in development. I’m glad we can see more of this great character, but I’m guessing I’ll still miss her in Captain America’s present.

Poster for short film Agent Carter — Poster for short film ‘Agent Carter’

It’s also nice that her independent appearances make Peggy Carter clearly more than a love interest. But I’m still interested to see if the Marvel Cinematic Universe lets Captain America have another love interest, and if she’ll be able to live up to Peggy. In the comics, Peggy’s relative Sharon Carter takes on that role, and Emily VanCamp is in the new film as Agent 13. Hopefully Winter Soldier will overcome Marvel’s occasional issues with the Smurfette principle and develop Sharon Carter successfully alongside Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow. I will let you know how Captain America: The Winter Soldier fares with its female characters in my next piece for Bitch Flicks.

*this is one of the RARE movies that came out in South Africa (and the UK and many other countries) before being released here, but of course I’m visiting home at the time. Oh well, USA USA!
** I mean, comics and comic book movies FIND A WAY to revive and reintegrate characters from the past or beyond the veil. See the eponymous Winter Soldier.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer who is presently in America! USA USA!

‘Divergent’ is Not So Divergent But Still Crucial for Feminism

I’m hopeful that ‘Divergent,’ as the first installment of the series, is setting Tris up to be a memorable heroine in her own right in the following films. I’m hoping that ‘Divergent’ is the story of the forging of our heroine, the exploration of her talents, abilities, and heart and that the second and third films will show her learning from her experiences, becoming a leader, and inspiring others.

Written by Amanda Rodriguez
Mild Spoilers
Trigger Warning: mention of sexualized violence

The much-anticipated film Divergent is based on the series of teen sci-fi novels by Veronica Roth dealing with a walled-off, post-apocalyptic Chicago wherein society has divided itself into factions in an effort to create order and peace. Our heroine Beatrice “Tris” Prior (Shailene Woodley) finds out she is “Divergent,” a taboo non-conformist who doesn’t fit into any of the factions and is therefore threatening to the caste system.

The five factions of the "Divergent" universe — The five factions of the *Divergent* universe

Disclaimer: I haven’t read the novel series yet.

As a sucker for female-driven sci-fi stories, I liked the premise, but Divergent stands on the shoulders of many young adult and teen movies that came before it. Divergent features training-based dream-like hallucinations like in Ender’s Game.

Tris frees herself with the realization, "This isn't real." — Tris frees herself with the realization, “This isn’t real.”

Tris is another thin, white heroine who learns she is more capable than she ever suspected, much like Katniss from The Hunger Games or Clary from The Mortal Instruments: City of Ashes series.

Tris must be brave and not flinch at the knives flying at her.

Divergent‘s Choosing Ceremony has young people choose which faction they’ll belong to for the rest of their lives (“faction before blood”). With factions like Abnegation, Erudite, and Dauntless, the Choosing Ceremony hugely resembles the Sorting Ceremony from the Harry Potter series, wherein wizarding youths are sorted into houses like Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw (representing bravery, hard work, and intelligence respectively).

The factions seated at the Choosing Ceremony

Divergent also spotlights the obligatory overwrought teen romance replete with multiple manly rescues of our heroine in a way that bears a strong resemblance to Twilight (though Tris admittedly has more fortitude and independence than her counterpart, Bella).

Obligatory sunset make-out session...with tattoos. — Obligatory sunset make-out session…with tattoos.

Divergents themselves are essentially misfits with special abilities that speak to the potential of human beings for evolution into a more advanced species like in the famed comic book turned cartoon series turned movie franchise X-Men.

Tris defies categorization, her test revealing her to be Divergent.

Lastly, I think we should expect the second film (Insurgent) to really play up the youth rebellion angle like in The Legend of Billie Jean.

Outlaw youths on the run, trying to be understood, striving to overthrow an unjust system.

So, yes, Divergent is derivative and predicable. Funny how a movie with an emphasis on the importance of being different…isn’t all that different itself. I was, however, still entertained, and I’m willing to wait and see if the second two films pave their own way, uniquely establishing themselves within the lexicon of the iconic pop culture fantasy/sci-fi teen series genre.

Divergent is basically an unnecessary prequel. I’m a fan of training sequences and didn’t tire of them despite the fact that Tris repeatedly gets her ass handed to her.

No wonder she's always getting gut punched with a defense like that. — With a defense stance like that, no wonder she’s always getting gut punched.

However, almost an entire film dedicated to Tris’ martial training, her budding romance, and the requirements of survival within the faction of Dauntless are not strictly necessary for the big picture scope of the series. I suspect the real story starts in the next movie, Insurgent, with the caste system in upheaval and Tris coming into her own as a leader of dissidents.

I was disappointed at the under-utilization of Kate Winslet‘s extensive acting powers in her role as the Erudite leader and villainess Jeanine. I’m frankly so tired of the cold, fanatic female villain trope. Jodie Foster played a similarly uninspired role in the sci-fi film Elysium. At first, I hoped that Jeanine would only be Tris’ first foe, the patriarchy-complicit woman, and that Tris would advance beyond that to actually deconstructing the patriarchal system of oppression in the following films. A quick Wiki search disabused me of that notion.

Kate Winslet as Jeanine in "Divergent" — Kate Winslet as Jeanine in *Divergent*

No, it looks like our lead villain throughout the series will be Jeanine, which makes me question the underlying thematics behind the class structure that the film and book series critique. Is it claiming that cold, intelligent women are the problem? Are they the purveyors of this dysfunctional culture? If so, for which real world social ill is the post-apocalyptic world of Divergent a stand-in? What problematic mechanism of power does this sci-fi series seek to illuminate? So far, all we’ve got is a generic argument that being different and thinking differently is a good thing. Not much subversiveness going on there.

Tris also gets rescued a lot, mostly by her love interest, Four, played by Theo James (James Franco called…he wants his face back). This made me roll my eyes a lot because I didn’t pay $10 to watch a young woman lead be so dependent on a dude for her survival. Not only that, but through a fear simulation, we learn that one of Tris’ greatest fears is that Four will try to rape her, and that theme isn’t delved into at all. However, I did admire the close, loving relationship Tris shares with her mother (Ashley Judd) and that her mom also rescues her in a surprising act that would make both factions Abnegation and Dauntless proud.

Tris mother, Natalie, brushes her hair on test day. — Tris’ mother, Natalie, brushes her hair on test day.

As with so many other aspects of the film, I’m letting our heroine’s constant need to be rescued slide because I’m hopeful that Divergent, as the first installment of the series, is setting Tris up to be a memorable heroine in her own right in the following films. I’m hoping that Divergent is the story of the forging of our heroine, the exploration of her talents, abilities, and heart and that the second and third films will show her learning from her experiences, becoming a leader, and inspiring others. At the end of Divergent, we saw a glimmer of her potential in her rallying of others, quick thinking in a crisis, her empathy, self-sacrifice, inventiveness, and the steel in her spine.

Tris is endlessly tenacious and never gives up. — Tris is endlessly tenacious and makes up her own mind about things.

The bottom line is that, despite Divergent‘s glaring flaws, I am so inspired by this outpouring of stories written by and about women. The mathematical expression of the term divergent is, simply put, “having no finite limits.” Right now, Tris’ story is empowering young girls and women with her bravery, her vulnerability, and her centrality. We have so desperately needed greater representation for young women so that they can imagine themselves in the roles of heroines, leaders, and catalysts for change. It is an important step forward that these films are being made at all. It is a coup that they are so damned popular, proving that people, in fact, DO want to see stories about women and that those stories DO sell. Eat your heart out Hollywood.

Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

‘Battlestar Galactica’: The Show Where All of the Women Die

Taken in the larger scope of what’s available, it’s so rare to find a TV show with so many great parts for women – so many characters who are interesting and smart and competent and vital to the stories they live in – that it’s kind of a bummer when all of them die. That said, I do think there’s a case to be made for why this may not be a horrible choice.

Um… spoilers for Battlestar Galactica.

What Battlestar Galactica is
To recap for anyone who isn’t familiar with the show but still wants to hear about death, Battlestar Galactica (2004) is a remake of the original series, in which humanity lives on a ragtag group of spaceships because robots are trying to kill everyone. The robots are called Cylons, and they look like human people, and it’s a metaphor for how the Other is really the same as we are, and that’s a lesson we need to learn to make peace.

In practical terms, there are twelve models of humanoid Cylon and multiple copies of each. So, whenever a Cylon dies (with a few specific exceptions) he or she downloads into a new, identical body and gets to come back again.

The main story line is about how the ragtag band of humans tries to find a mythical planet called Earth with the Cylons acting (mostly) as antagonists along the way. There’s also a supernatural/religious element in which there are prophecies and angels, and God has a special plan to save both the humans and Cylons by making the most vile man in their number his prophet.

Laura Roslin is the president, Kara “Starbuck” Thrace is the hotshot viper pilot, and there are videos on YouTube that recap the first three seasons if you want to know what happens.

As other Bitch Flicks writers have previously discussed, there are a lot of really good, well-written, interesting female characters, human and Cylon alike. And almost every single one of them gets killed.

Teach the Controversy: What We Mean When We Say “All of the Women Die”
As the show was winding down in its final season, Slate ran an article by Juliet Lapidos called “Chauvinist Pigs in Space” that criticized several aspects of the way women are filmed and portrayed on BSG. Among other points, Lapidos argued that, “The main female characters are all dying, dead, or not human” and that this trend sent the unintentional message that “women…just can’t hack it when the going gets rough.” The piece prompted several responses, including this one from Slant, but Lapidos wasn’t the only one saying it; similar comments were popping up on message boards and blogs (by which I mean Live Journal, because that’s where we all hung out in 2009, amirite?), especially after the series finale aired, and both Starbuck and Roslin were down for the count.

One common response to Lapidos’ article, and to the more general complaint that so many women die on this show, is to either start listing all of the male characters who died – and, since the overall death toll on this series was high, it’s a very long list, or to argue that, hey, there are still cylon women alive at the end of the show, and they’re women, too, goddammit. The problem is that comparing the number of dead characters, or human versus Cylon characters, doesn’t get at the real issue. A better way to ask the question is, “Who, of all the characters on the show, was able to survive four whole seasons without getting killed?”

On the men’s side, we’ve got all three of the leads (William Adama, Apollo, and Gaius Baltar), several important secondary characters (including Chief Tyrol, Colonel Tigh, and Helo), and a few other randoms who we never got to know that well. On the women’s side, we’ve got more randoms and (probably) a minor character named Seelix who does not appear in the final episode.

That’s all.

All of the non-Seelix women we know, including all of the lead female characters, have died. The human women are gone, and every Cylon woman left standing at the end died on screen earlier in the series. Tyrol and Tigh are also Cylons, and they didn’t have to die ever.

While I don’t like her phrasing that much, I have to agree with Lapidos that there’s a sense in which this doesn’t sit well. A sense in which it seems like, intentionally or not, the show is telling us that capable women need to die, either as a warning to the rest of us (“the price for being good at things is that you won’t survive”), or as a way of making the audience feel safe around them. Sort of like how you feel safe at the end of a monster movie when the monster gets swallowed by lava – like, don’t be afraid! These women are not roaming the Earth, continuing to be really awesome. They’re dead, like Xena, and the threat is contained.

Um… spoilers for Xena: Warrior Princess.

On a personal note, as a woman who’s watching TV, it’s also just kind of a downer. Taken in the larger scope of what’s available, it’s so rare to find a TV show with so many great parts for women, so many characters who are interesting and smart and competent and vital to the stories they live in – that it’s kind of a bummer when all of them die.

That said, I do think there’s a case to be made for why this may not be a horrible choice, so…

Why This May Not Be a Horrible Choice
Like almost every TV show, Battlestar Galactica is a mixed bag when it comes to storytelling. Some of the women die stupid deaths, but some of them die pretty good ones that follow from actively participating in the world in which this story takes place.

Starting on the Bad Death side, the main example that Lapidos focuses on is Chief Tyrol’s wife, Cally, and how she gets murdered by Tyrol’s Cylon mistress on her way to commit suicide. That’s a fair death to focus on, because it’s probably the worst, especially when paired with the mistress’ murder (by Tyrol!) in the series finale, which was just a WTF moment that got buried in all of the other explosions and stories that came to a close.

After she’s married to Tyrol, Cally is almost completely defined by her relationship with him and, even before they get married, it sometimes feels like her only role in the story is be jealous because he’s with someone else. Her death happens firstly as a surprise switcheroo for the audience, and secondly as a way to complicate Tyrol’s relationship with his boring, boring mistress who was never that great of a character, either. The show does this last minute thing where it tries to take us inside Cally’s experience when she finds out her husband’s a Cylon, but it’s really too little, too late.

Also in the not-such-a-great-death category are popular secondary characters Dualla (who shoots herself in the head out of nowhere during the final season) and Kat, who gets a very special, very manipulative episode all about her, so that we can learn about her backstory and feel bad when she gets radiation poisoning, which she gets by addressing a problem that also only exists in that one episode.

In fairness to the show, though, there are plenty of pointless, annoying, cannon fodder, and/or emotionally manipulative deaths to go around for both men and women. Starbuck has a dead boyfriend who exists only to create tension between her and Apollo, and she’s lost some male pilots just so she’ll feel bad about what a crap teacher she was. Roslin’s sidekick Billy gets offed pretty randomly when he no longer serves the story, and the whole point of his death is to show us that Dualla and Apollo were mean to him on the last day that he was alive (and he was too gentle to live in this world, or something).

That said, because all of the women die, it makes sense that viewers would take a more critical attitude to examining how they die and to what purpose in the story.

And that’s where it starts to seem like it might not be a horrible choice because, while some of the women die stupidly, a lot of them die because women are the do-ers of Battlestar Galactica. They’re making things happen; they’re driving the story, and, when the supernatural element rears its head, they’re the prophesized saviors of the human and Cylon race.

Like a lot of militaristic stories, Battlestar Galactica measures its characters’ heroism partly through their capacity to suffer, both physically and emotionally. And unlike a lot of stories, BSG splits its heroic suffering pretty evenly between its male and female characters.

Starbuck is the action hero of the story – she goes on the dangerous missions, she gets the crap kicked out of her by robots, she has a tragic backstory with a dead boyfriend and an abusive mother, and she has a special destiny that requires her to sacrifice herself to save the people she loves. Roslin finds out that she has terminal cancer on the same day that she becomes President, and in order to lead, she has to overcome the fear that she feels for herself. During the last season, her body is falling apart just like the Galactica is falling apart, like tenuous hopes for the future are falling apart, and the question is whether any of those things will hold together long enough to find Earth. She and the beat-up old spaceship are both trying to complete their final missions by bringing the people to Earth.

Starbuck and Roslin are two of the most important characters on the show, and one could make the argument that, along with Gaius Baltar, they make up a trinity of the most important characters on the show, in terms of moving the primary story line forward. They die in the process, but it’s part the heroic journey.

Even some of the other, more perfunctory deaths come from a pretty strong place. Admiral Cain is there for three episodes before she bites it, but her character is right at the center of everything and killed as a direct result of the choices she makes as a leader (to place revenge above everything else). Athena, a Cylon, has her husband kill her so that she can download into another body on a Cylon ship and rescue her kidnapped baby – it’s pretty badass. Ellen Tigh gets murdered for betraying the humans to the Cylons. D’Anna Biers dies multiple times while investigating the identities of the final five Cylons (who are unknown to the remaining seven). The list goes on. In a universe where lots of people die as the product of doing, many female characters die because they do something that affects the story.

This is one of those instances where everyone’s a little bit right. It’s legitimately kind of annoying that, in a story full of strong, well-written women, none of them but (probably) Seelix can manage to survive. The television landscape being what it is, it makes you wonder what’s going on there. At the same time, and without this cancelling out the annoyance, a lot of the women died because they were such good characters and because the show was fairly egalitarian in determining who would drive the story.

Personally, I wish that in those last, sweeping shots of the surviving characters standing on Earth, we had seen Cally, or Dualla, or Kat, or someone we cared about who was female and lived for four years. I wish that it seemed possible, in the BSG universe, to be female and live for four years. And that feeling exists side-by-side with my joy at having such great characters to begin with.

Katherine Murray is a Toronto-based writer and couch potato who yells about movies and TV on her blog.

The Masculine Adventure in ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’

My question is: why? Why can’t women be part of his quest instead of the cookie at the end of the road? The message is that women can’t have quests or journeys or adventures for themselves. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty depicts women as love objects (romantic or familial) with their place at home, not on the road.

I went to see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty on Christmas Day, which turned out to be appropriate because Ben Stiller‘s film is an ode to embracing life, living kindly, and seeking meaningful adventure (all useful messages for a theatre full of Americans sitting on our asses). The movie is sweet, humorous, and light-hearted. It deals in fantasy and a fantastical reality. It begs us to value each other for whatever our contributions may be no matter how small those achievements may initially seem. It asks us to see art and beauty in everything. I enjoyed the film, but I was saddened by the lack of female involvement in Mitty’s quest.

There are several women who play prominent roles within Walter’s life. His mother and his love interest are portrayed with the most integrity (his sister mainly seems like a selfish woman who takes advantage of her brother). Walter’s mother Edna Mitty, played by the illustrious Shirley MacLaine, proves to be an integral part of setting him on the right path in his journey.

Edna’s clementine cake (Walter’s favorite) is an important clue as well as currency that gains him access into territory guarded by an Afghan warloard. Her piano, a memento of her late husband, is another clue Walter follows on his search for the elusive photographer Sean O’Connell (Sean Penn). Edna encourages her son to do whatever he feels like he must do, and she remains at home, holding many of Walter’s forgotten treasures, waiting for a time when he may need them. Though Walter clearly loves and respects his mother, she isn’t much more than a symbol of motherhood and the home to which he will return after his journey is done.

Walter’s love interest, Cheryl Melhoff, performed by the talented and versatile Kristen Wiig, is a single mother who is kind, intelligent, and encouraging.

Cheryl is the first person who tells Walter that he must follow Sean O’Connell’s trail and that he must go on this journey himself. Many of Walter’s fantasies center around Cheryl, and in one, she even coaxes him to take a risky helicopter ride with a drunken pilot because that is the path on which his quest lies. Much of his quest is about proving himself and making himself worthy for the woman he has put on a pedestal. When she falls off that pedestal, he turns to his mother who gently pushes him to finish what he started.

Both Cheryl and Edna exist to spur Walter into action. Neither of them take action themselves. Instead, they are gentle forces that compel Walter into creating a true life for himself while they wait for him to come home. Walter’s quest becomes independent of the women in his life as he strives for confidence, self-worth, worldly experience, and a sense of purpose.

Walter skateboards to an Icelandic volcano.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty doesn’t pass the Bechdel Test. No women are featured on his journey. In fact, the only woman we see during Walter’s travels is a bartender in Greenland. No women are pillars in his quest who either help or obstruct his progress. He doesn’t create amazing memories with them as he does with the men who rescue him from a shark or a volcano or even the men who play soccer with him. The women are all at home. The women themselves represent home. They are settled and stand for things like comfort, security, and love. There is no place for them on Walter’s harrowing, invigorating journey to self-actualization.

Walter climbs a mountain with his guides to find Sean. — Walter climbs a mountain with his male guides to find Sean.

My question is: why? Why can’t women be part of his quest instead of the cookie at the end of the road? The message is that women can’t have quests or journeys or adventures for themselves. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty depicts women as love objects (romantic or familial) with their place at home, not on the road. Men take action on behalf of the “home” ideals for which women are receptacles. While I enjoyed the movie and thought it had important things to say about the value of the “little man”, missing from it are women of action and agency, women who have their own agenda and adventures. Seeing the paths of women on their own quests intersect with that of Walter, however briefly, would have gone a long way to establishing women as autonomous actors in their own tales of becoming.

——————
Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

‘True Grit’: Ambiguous Feminism

Mattie wears dark, loose, practical clothing. She climbs trees and carries weapons. She shows utter disdain for male privilege or La Boeuf’s pervy allusions to sexual contact. She has no interest in the older men for romance or protection. She is only concerned with their usefulness to her task, and she uses her will and her reasoning rather than seduction to convince them. Steinfeld’s Mattie emanates competence and confidence.

This cross-post by Andé Morgan previously appeared at her blog No Accommodation and appears as part of our theme week on Child and Teenage Girl Protagonists.

Enter the Wayback Machine in your mind and go back to 2011. This was an era with only one Smurfs and only two Hangovers. More original fare like Rango and Super 8 was somewhat overshadowed by superhero movies, which were HUGE, and the sequelmatic masterpieces that were Transformers: Dark of the Moon and Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. That’s OK, originality is overrated. For example, my favorite wide release of late 2010-early 2011 was True Grit. Based on the 1968 serial novel by Charles Portis, True Grit the movie had been done by The Duke in 1969. And by done I mean it did well; it was a financial and critical success and gave John Wayne his only Oscar. Nevermind that the script was less than faithful to the source material, or that Mammon possessed Paramount to spawn a horrific sequel, Rooster Cogburn.

Let me get my bias out front: I am a fan of the Coen Brothers, but I don’t always drink the Kool-Aid (am I the only person who thought Fargo and No Country for Old Men were just OK?). However, I loved True Grit. I don’t think it is hyperbole to call it a masterpiece. It represents an increasingly rare combination of excellent screenwriting, gripping cinematography, high production value, and masterful acting in a wide release film. Its story of vengeance is timeless, but the setting is as uniquely American as apple pie, Duck Dynasty, and gun violence.

To summarize: in the American Old West (Oklahoma and Arkansas were part of the Old West in 1877), Mattie Ross (played by Hailee Steinfeld in the 2010 film) loses her father when he is murdered by his hired hand Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). She enlists the help of U.S. Marshal Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) and Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon) to bring the fugitive Chaney to justice. Because she is an adolescent female, no one takes her seriously until the strength of her persistence wins out. Vengeance is hers in the end, but not without cost.

All of the incarnations of True Grit are popular fodder for analysis from a feminist perspective not only because it is well-known and well-respected as an “American” story, but also because it is an unusual story. It features a young, female protagonist with a single-minded focus on violent vengeance. Any analysis would be remiss to ignore that a) the serial was written in 1968, and Portis would undoubtedly be aware of the second-wave feminist movement and b) the 2010 film was written, directed, and produced by the Coen Brothers, who know how to do subtle development of nuanced characters and big-picture themes. The original 1969 film is less profitable for analysis. In their hurry to cash in on the popularity of the novel and John Wayne, the studio focused on the Rooster character. Mattie (referred to as a “tomboy” by promotional materials of the time) exists as a novelty and a variation on the damsel in distress.

While the 2010 film does pass the Bechdel Test on the slightest of technicalities, no one is going to confuse it with Melancholia. The plot of True Grit is an interesting variation of the Women in Fridges meme because the roles are a reversal of the usual young female victim and older male protagonist structure. In this way Mattie is much more of a Dark Knight than a Marvelous fighting fuck toy. The overarching patriarchal heterosexist concern is obvious: neither children nor women are allowed to crave bloody vengeance. Vengeance is a privilege reserved for good-but-violent men whose women-property are raped or destroyed.

Mattie wears dark, loose, practical clothing. She climbs trees and carries weapons. She shows utter disdain for male privilege or La Boeuf’s pervy allusions to sexual contact. She has no interest in the older men for romance or protection. She is only concerned with their usefulness to her task, and she uses her will and her reasoning rather than seduction to convince them. Steinfeld’s Mattie emanates competence and confidence.

While many in the blogosphere were quick to use Mattie’s stoicism, blood lust, and independence as examples of why True Grit should be considered a feminist movie, others, such as Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency, have remarked that those same attributes argue against that designation. Rather, the adoption of these characteristics by a female protagonist constitutes an enshrinement of male privilege and traditional action-movie-masculine vales rather than an assertion of feminist values. By contrast, a feminist True Grit would emphasize cooperation, empathy, and non-violent conflict resolution. Without delving into the deeper arguments raised by this argument (e.g., what exactly are feminist values and are they necessarily exclusive of all traditionally masculine values), I can say that my initial reaction was to agree with Sarkeesian. Too often we see action movies that “counterbalance” a “masculine” (and usually secondary) female character by either putting her in a skin-tight suit, giving her a fatal personality flaw, or by implying that she is worthy of death for her perceived masculinity (I’m looking at you, Kick-Ass 2).

However, after some reflection I tend to agree more with Amanda Marcotte’s argument that True Grit should not be analyzed in the same way as more typical westerns or action movies. The subtleties in the source material and in the Coen Brothers’ delivery lend themselves to deeper interpretation. True Grit comments on many things: the unfair treatment of Native Americans (the hanging scene); the corruption of justice in our legal system (the courtroom scene); and the fact that there is often very little space between the “bad” and the “good” in this world (Chaney’s dialogue with Mattie at the creek and mine; Ned’s dialogue with Rooster).

As Marcotte points out, to understand the commentary on the development of Mattie as a young woman, we must look to the ending. Marcotte notes the shared symbology of Rooster’s missing eye and (adult) Mattie’s missing arm. By engaging in violence and by accepting the traditionally masculine values of vengeance, both Mattie and Rooster literally and figuratively lost part of themselves. As viewers, we are left to wonder: did Mattie’s consumption by vengeance as a young woman rob her of spiritual wholeness in adulthood? Does the adult Mattie feel that she was wrong to pursue vengeance? I do disagree with Marcotte’s assertion that True Grit is a feminist movie because the bleakness of the ending serves as an ultimate repudiation of traditional action-movie-masculine values. Instead, I see the ending as commentary on the infectious, long-lasting, and ultimately detrimental nature of violence as a human trait. Consequently, I conclude that while Mattie Ross may be considered a feminist character (loosely) True Grit is neither a feminist movie nor a movie that reinforces the patriarchal heterosexist narrative. It is a human condition movie, and one worth watching.

As for Hallie Steinfeld, she’s been getting work, and recently played Petra Arkanin in the film adaption of Ender’s Game. I’d like to see it, but damn you Orson Scott Card!

Andé Morgan’s perspective stems from a life spent always on the boundary: white and black, rich and poor, masculine and feminine. She takes shelter under the transgender umbrella.

Young Women and Heroism in ‘The Host’

This guest post by Sade Nickels appears as part of our theme week on Child and Teenage Girl Protagonists.

Whether or not The Host is “feminist” or not has been covered by Dr. Natalie Wilson in a particularly interesting piece, as Stephanie Meyers identifies as a feminist. I’m not too into the idea of calling the movie an anti-feminist piece, but its portrayal of young women and their relationships to men is deeply problematic. As Dr. Wilson has questioned and criticized this movie well, I don’t have too much to add except some thoughts about young women and heroism. I do feel obligated to say that this movie is duller than toast and the onslaught of negative reviews it received was well-deserved.

So, this movie is about an Alien race called Souls that invade all the bodies of humans and turn the planet into a peaceful place. One Alien named Wanda gets put into the body of a young girl named Melanie. Melanie does not have control over her body but her presence is still there and she manipulates Wanda into running away from the Soul community to find her little brother and her boyfriend. They find them living with a bunch of other humans who are hiding from the Souls and just trying to get by. Wanda and Melanie work to protect this community from the Souls, but mostly their purpose and justification for their acts of heroism are largely done for the men they love or have fallen or are falling in love with. Very typical and trite, but there are some elements at play that tend to deviate from a traditional hero’s journey.

Is Wanda a girl/teenage female protagonist? Technically she is not “young” as she is 1,000 years old and seemingly immortal, but she is new to Earth so that makes her young in some sense. Also, why would the Souls even have genders that mirror that of humans or have genders at all? The Souls look like beams of light and they probably aren’t even a carbon based species and yet somehow Wanda is a female? So. Frustrating. Nonetheless she is controlling a person’s body who identifies as a teenage girl and is thus somewhat restricted to her occupied body’s feelings, emotions, and categorizations. It is hard to understand why Wanda is a “female” as the audience is given very little information as to what Souls are, where they came from, what their motivations are, or how this parasitic species procreates. Maybe it is covered in the book? Maybe Stephanie Meyer never really thought about it (unlike some authors I know). Either way it a missed opportunity for talking about gender vs. sex or doing anything somewhat subversive.

The dynamic between the two female protagonists in this movie who have to work together and collaborate to be successful for their shared end goals (which is boy saving) is what is most interesting to me when thinking about their roles as heroes and the typical myth of the hero. Melanie is almost a mercenary type. Determined, very occupied with the preservation of her humanity, resistant, manipulative, brave and adept at lying and stealing. Wanda is naive and lost but operates under a strict moral compass of nonviolence and pacifism. The two react to most situations very differently but they learn skills and behaviors from one another. It is the collaboration of these two very different teenage girl characters that allow them to be successful in protecting and aiding the human community.

As mentioned before, Wanda is a pacifist; her actions as a “hero” are conducted nonviolently. In fact her nonviolent action inspires her new community to start acting in the same way. This is a sort of nice refresher to all the kick-ass action heros that have been featured on the big screen. Nonetheless, her character is extremely self-sacrificing and puts herself last in almost every situation. Would have been nice to see a hero who strikes a good balance between operating under a strong moral compass without that being overshadowed by their seemingly low self-worth.

Sade Nickels is a toddler teacher in Seattle who enjoys getting tattoos, reading children’s books and thinking about radicalism.

‘Troop Beverly Hills’: What A Thrill

Initially the girls of Troop Beverly Hills are portrayed as clueless and privileged, but they are allowed to grow and transform themselves over the course of the movie. The film writers don’t do it unrealistically by turning them into tomboys overnight or at all. The girls retain their femininity, which they are made fun of for by the Red Feathers, throughout the film.

This guest post by Phaydra Babinchok appears as part of our theme week on Child and Teenage Girl Protagonists.

Sometimes revisiting a favorite film as an adult can be disappointing, but more often than not it isn’t. I find that I still very much enjoy my childhood favorites.

Troop Beverly Hills was released in 1989. If for no other reason, watch this film for the 80s fashion. It is absolutely fab and you can thank me now. I must confess that I watched it on the original VHS that my family has owned since it was released. And I must confess that I still absolutely love this film. Enough gushing though, let’s get into the nitty gritty.

That fabulous 80's fashion — That fabulous 80s fashion

Shelly Long is the driving force in this movie. She plays a spoiled socialite who is getting a divorce from her rich husband. In an attempt to bond with her daughter and prove to her husband that she can finish what she starts she decides to become her daughter Hannah’s Wilderness Girls troop leader. I find myself identifying with Hannah because my mom was my Girl Scout troop leader. I however cannot identify with the Beverly Hills mansion.

Back to the plot. This is a classic story about the underdogs, who happen to be fabulously wealthy girls, triumphing over mean girls. I was curious about the background of this movie and discovered that it was written and produced by women. This definitely makes sense since it is almost entirely a female cast. The girls of Troop Beverly Hills are the outcasts of the Wilderness Girls troops. They are not taken seriously and made fun of because they are into fashion and don’t know how to camp. A hilarious scene ensues when they attempt to go camping. After being driven to the campsite and each girl bringing tons of luggage–I repeat luggage, as in suitcases instead of camping gear even though it is for only one night–it starts pouring rain. This is just too much for anyone to handle so they pack up and head to the Beverly Hills Hotel where roughing it is sharing one bathroom amongst nine of them.

Troop Beverly Hills’ mean-girl nemeses are the Red Feathers. The Red Feathers are real Wilderness Girls who have earned badges whereas the girls of Troop Beverly Hills don’t have any badges. They didn’t even have uniforms until Hannah’s mom took them shopping, because as a rich Beverly Hills housewife shopping is the one thing she knows how to do. She is also determined to help the girls earn badges in their own way. She teaches them how to survive in Beverly Hills. They earn badges in such varied activities as jewelry appraisal, shopping, sushi appreciation, and gardening with glamour.

Oh and those Red Feathers are a mean bunch led by a mean leader who happens to be one the mother of one of the girls. They are out to get Troop Beverly Hills because they don’t think they belong or deserve to be Wilderness Girls because they are too girly and spoiled. So what do the Red Feathers do? Instead of encouraging or mentoring Troop Beverly Hills they set out to sabotage them. They laugh and make fun of the Troop Beverly Hills craft project, which is a camping clothing rack. Troop Beverly Hills were the pioneers of “glamping” way before the term “glamping” even existed.

The Red Feathers’ troop leader is in a position of authority and strips Troop Beverly Hills of their badges because they aren’t “real” wilderness badges. However, this is not a devastating moment for the girls of Troop Beverly Hills. Instead they graciously surrender their badges. Their new goal is to sell the most cookies and make it to the Wilderness Jamboree competition. Being the mean girls that they are, the Red Feathers’ attempt to sabotage Troop Beverly Hills’ cookie selling by going into their neighborhood and selling cookies to all the rich folk in Beverly Hills first. This is devastating to the girls, but they manage to rally together and come up with some great cookie selling tactics like having a mini concert and a fashion show. Troop Beverly Hills is triumphant and sells enough cookies to go on to the Wilderness Jamboree competition.

They took a creative chance on a song and dance to sell cookies.

It is during the Wilderness Jamboree competition that the girls of Troop Beverly Hills are challenged and prove themselves as real Wilderness Girls despite the fact that they still like fashion. Again the Red Feathers do not try to win fairly, but instead try to sabotage Troop Beverly Hills. Their mean girl move is to switch the direction of the flags that help guide the troops to the finish. However, Troop Beverly Hills triumphs and finishes before the Red Feathers do. This infuriates the Red Feathers because Troop Beverly Hills does not deserve to win because they are spoiled and still too into fashion to be taken seriously as Wilderness Girls. So they bust out their biggest mean girl move yet and their troop leader who mapped the course is going to lead them on the course the following day to guarantee that they win.

Troop Beverly Hills is continuously sabotaged by the Red Feathers, but they remain optimistic and never give up. They learn to believe in themselves, how to be strong-willed and not give up, and how to work together as a team. When it seems as though the Red Feathers will win because of their cheating schemes, Troop Beverly Hills perseveres and wins the competition. And not in a ruthless way, but in a compassionate way. Troop Beverly Hills stops to help the injured Red Feathers’ leader who was abandoned by her own troop. Her troop abandoning her is a classic mean girls maneuver–when the going gets tough is each for her own–is the reason the Red Feathers lose. Of course the Red Feathers were sore losers and ran away with the trophy, but even that doesn’t upset Troop Beverly Hills. They have earned what is most valuable to them and can’t be taken away: self-confidence.

Proving in the end that you can be into fashion and a wilderness girl. — Proving in the end that you can be into fashion *and* be a Wilderness Girl.

Phaydra Babinchok is a feminist activist and comedy writer based in Chicago. She is chapter leader of WAM! Women, Action, and the Media Chicago. She tweets about cats and feminist porn @PhaydraAnnette.

Women as Love Objects in ‘The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug’ and ‘The Lord of the Rings’

I thought a lot about why Jackson created Tauriel. He’s already messing with the events, chronology, and mythology of the books, so why didn’t he just change the gender of a handful of major characters to make them into women? Why couldn’t we have a female dwarf or two? Why couldn’t the last remaining “skin-changer” the bear-man Beorn have been a woman? Or the Brown Wizard Radagast have been a lady forest foraging force of nature? Answer: Because none of those characters have the potential to be love interests. Instead, Jackson created a throw-away character that he could shape into a love object. I am so tired of seeing women have to give up their identity, their goals, their independence, and their power for love.

Spoiler Alert

My fellow Bitch Flicks writer Rachel Redfern recently posted a review of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug that was insightful, and I agree with most of her points. She touches on the discomfort surrounding creating a whole new major character for the film in the form of Tauriel played by the athletic Evangeline Lilly. As a purist, I was certainly uncomfortable with the idea. I got over it. I had to admit that without Tauriel, a brilliantly capable captain of the guard for the Mirkwood elves, the film would be a dwarvish sausagefest. Redfern also highlights the ick-factor in the love triangle in which Tauriel gets enmeshed. The important thing that I’d like to add to our Bitch Flicks conversation about The Desolation of Smaug is that the representation of Tauriel brings into sharp focus the primary purpose of women within the world of Middle Earth: to be love objects for male characters.

For some context, let’s take a look at the only other two women who have a character arc in all of Middle Earth. First, there’s Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan.

Éowyn is a fierce warrior who longs for the life men are allowed. — Éowyn is a fierce warrior who longs for the freedom men are afforded.

Éowyn had the biggest role of any of the women in J.R.R. Tolkien‘s beloved fantasy novel series The Lord of the Rings. The books themselves as well as the films actually chronicle her regret at not having the freedom to fight to defend her people and win honor and glory in battle as men are allowed to do. Éowyn (in both the books and films) single-handedly takes down one of the Nine, a Nazgûl, a Ringwraith. She faces off against the debilitating terror it exudes, and she wins. That is so hardcorely badass. She was hands-down my favorite character in the books.

Éowyn & Faramir gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. — Éowyn & Faramir gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.

The twist is that Aragorn then has to save her life from the poison of the Ringwraith, and Faramir, the second son of the Steward of Gondor (and Boromir’s little brother), saves her life again by showing her how to love…i.e. how to be a woman. The fire goes out of Éowyn when she settles down and learns her place as the consort of Faramir. All her dreams of being considered an equal to men, of standing side-by-side men on a battlefield and commanding respect goes out the window because, apparently, all women really want and are good for is love and marriage.

Then we have Arwen, the daughter of Elrond and elvish princess of Rivendell. Director Peter Jackson takes a lot of liberties with this character in the film version of The Lord of the Rings. He generally made Arwen more visible (I think she’s only in two scenes in the books) and more active in that she saves Frodo from death at the hands of the Nine, which seemed cool at first, but with the introduction of the similar character of Tauriel in The Desolation of Smaug, this whole healing trope gave me pause. In The Fellowship of the Ring, Arwen uses herbs and elvish magic to heal Frodo from the poisonous wound he took from a Morgul-blade, offering up her immortality in prayer for his life.

"What Grace is given me, let it pass to him." — “What Grace is given me, let it pass to him.” – Arwen

Tauriel abandons her quest to destroy the orc infestation at their source, and she also abandons Legolas, her friend of 600 years, to perform a similar healing rite on a dwarf she’s known for a couple of days. What could be more important than friendship? More important than the personal quest that she defied her sovereign to follow? Hmm…

Jackson also plays up the tragic love story between Arwen and Aragorn to a nauseating level, making her life tied to the fate of the quest to destroy the ring. This renders her helpless and in need of saving after he’d already built her up as an elvish warrior with mad healing abilities. Arwen is divested of her prowess as well as her immortality for love. In the end, she’s simply a prize for Aragorn to claim at the end of his journey because her story is completely suspended until the dudes can rescue her…Sleeping Beauty style.

This brings us to Tauriel. I’m glad she was included in the storyline of The Desolation of Smaug. She’s an elegant, fierce, and brilliant warrior.

She’s strong, defiant, and makes her own choices.

Tauriel faces off against her elvish king.

I’m glad that Peter Jackson recognized that having a movie with no women in it is absolutely absurd.

BUT. There it is, the big but. But Jackson, like so many other male storytellers, can’t imagine a path for Tauriel that doesn’t include love. Tauriel is the love object of two male characters creating a noxious love triangle, and she, like Arwen and Éowyn, must sacrifice everything for that love.

I thought a lot about why Jackson created Tauriel. He’s already messing with the events, chronology, and mythology of the books, so why didn’t he just change the gender of a handful of major characters to make them into women? Why couldn’t we have a female dwarf or two? Why couldn’t the last remaining “skin-changer” the bear-man Beorn have been a woman? Or the Brown Wizard Radagast have been a lady forest foraging force of nature? Answer: Because none of those characters have the potential to be love interests. Instead, Jackson created a throw-away character that he could shape into a love object. I am so tired of seeing women have to give up their identity, their goals, their independence, and their power for love. And why is female love synonymous with sacrifice?

I can’t say how Jackson will tie it all up in his conclusion to the ridiculously drawn out trilogy of The Hobbit. Who knows? Maybe he’ll end the series with Tauriel having been instrumental, self-actualized, and above the pressures of our pitiful contemporary love culture that insists all a woman needs is love to be whole. Based on his current trajectory and track record, though, it’s not looking so hot. Sigh. It doesn’t look like a good day to be a woman on Middle Earth.