Fangirls, It’s Time to #AskForMore

In the battle to address the staggering gender gap in women directing for film and television, there is one huge untapped resource — the passion and organizing power of fangirls.

Fangirls and TV shows

This guest post written by Alyssa Franke appears as part of our theme week on Women Directors.


In the battle to address the staggering gender gap in women directing for film and television, there is one huge untapped resource — the passion and organizing power of fangirls.

We all know the depressing statistics, we’ve seen the ACLU letter requesting an investigation into the gender biases in Hollywood’s hiring practices, and we’ve read the horrifying first-hand accounts of sexism and harassment. A long-term solution to the gender gap will probably require a combination of legal action and industry initiatives.

But fan activism can also play an important — even crucial — role. Fans can, of course, raise awareness of the problem within their communities. But even more importantly, fans have the ability to transform complex, industry-wide issues where responsibility can be hard to pin down into personalized campaigns where individuals who contribute to the problem can be held accountable.

You can see similar organizing happening already in fan communities, though these have largely focused on on-screen representation rather than behind-the-scenes representation. When studios have hired white actors to portray characters of color, Racebending has organized fan communities to protest the deliberate exclusion of actors of color and the whitewashing of beloved characters. Fans of Supernatural have confronted the writers of the show at conventions to hold them accountable for fridging nearly every female character on the show. And after a beloved lesbian character was killed on The 100 in yet another example of the “Bury Your Guys” trope, fans organized behind the hashtag #LGBTFansDeserveBetter to support LGBT fans, raise money for charity, and hold the creators accountable. The backlash grew so strong that showrunner Jason Rothenberg eventually apologized for the way the character was killed.

Whitewashing characters of color, fridging women, and sensationally killing off LGBT characters are problems which span the entire movie and television industry. But when fans had a specific instance of each of these problems to latch on to, they could begin to organize movements for change. In each case, fans raised the profile of the broader issue and were able to hold specific individuals accountable for contributing to those problems.

The same principles can apply when it comes to organizing fans to tackle the gap in women directors. When so many people have a hand in hiring directors, it is easy for everyone to shift blame onto someone else. Agents, networks, studios, producers, showrunners, and even actors are able to point fingers at each other and say that someone else is more responsible for the lack of women directors than they are. But as fans begin to notice the gender gap in their own fandoms, they can begin to hold specific individuals, studios, and networks accountable.

But first, fans need to be aware of how the gender gap impacts their own fandoms. After the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) began investigating the systemic discrimination against women directors in Hollywood, I started looking into how many women were directing my favorite TV shows. In October, I posted a series of graphics on Tumblr highlighting some of the most surprising results I had found.

Supernatural; image by Alyssa Franke

The numbers were seriously depressing. Supernatural, with over two hundred episodes and one of the largest online fanbases, had only hired two women to direct an episode each (they’ve since hired one additional woman to direct one episode). Newer shows like Daredevil and Agent Carter had no women directors (and each show has only hired one woman director since my original piece was published). There were a few shows that had a smattering of women directors here and there, but there were often whole seasons without a single woman directing an episode.

Over twelve thousand notes later, fans are still sharing that post and adding on the number of women who have directed their favorite TV shows. American Horror Story, 0 women directors after sixty-three episodes. Hannibal, 0 women directors after thirty-nine episodes. Orphan Black, one woman directing only two of thirty episodes.

Even shows that are doing better than average are still depressingly below parity. Supergirl has had three women direct three of eighteen aired episodes. Jessica Jones had three women direct four of thirteen episodes. And Elementary has had five women direct fifteen of their ninety aired episodes.

Once fans are aware of the gender gap in directors for their favorite TV shows and movie franchises, they can begin organizing. And they are in a particularly unique position to challenge studios, networks, and creators. As television shows and media franchises have recognized the importance of interacting with fandoms for marketing and engagement purposes, they have also created spaces for fans to challenge and question them. And fans have proven to be particularly adept at getting attention for their issues thanks to that access.

Even though it resulted in no tangible changes, or even an acknowledgement from the creators that their narrative choices might have been damaging, Supernatural fans were able to draw awareness to the show’s terrible treatment of its female characters and publicly challenge the writer to justify his choices. And in The 100 fandom, access to the show’s writers on Tumblr and Twitter seems to have sparked genuine conversation between fans and the creators about the industry’s treatment of LGBT characters. This is particularly true of Javier Grillo-Marxuach, who wrote the episode that sparked the controversy and who has since been talking extensively with fans on his Tumblr to explain the process behind creating the episode and to reflect on their concerns.

Fan activism for more women directors could rely on similar tactics. At conventions, fans would be able to raise the profile of the issue in front of actors, writers, and showrunners — and by extension the studios or networks behind the show or movie franchise. And on social media platforms, fans would be able to use their access to creators and official social media accounts to apply pressure to address the gender gap in directors, spark conversation about the issue, and hopefully gain pledges to address the issue.

When I have discussed this issue within my own fandoms, I often receive feedback from other fans that specific shows or movies should not be held accountable for an industry-wide issue. While I agree that one show shouldn’t be made the scapegoat for the broader problem, I do think this argument misses the point that individual franchises should be held accountable for their contribution to the problem. Each franchise — and its related fandoms — should feel invested in attempting to correct the problem where they can. Incremental change is necessary to jumpstart broader changes.

And I am very aware that fan organizing alone cannot solve the gender gap for women directors. However, combined with the threat of legal action and pressure from within the industry, I think it can play a crucial role by keeping attention on the issue and maintaining pressure on key players in the industry. My hope is that our engagement would compliment efforts from within the industry, and that our efforts would be proof that consumers are aware of the gender gap and invested in seeing it addressed.

I write this piece with the explicit aim that it act as both a guide for organizers and a clarion call for fans.

If you are a woman director, or someone within the industry looking to organize around this issue, I encourage you to engage with fan communities. They are passionate, invested in their favorite franchises, and generally committed to improving representation on and off screen. We want to help, and we can be valuable allies.

If you are a fan, then consider this your call to begin advocating for better representation behind the scenes. We talk a lot about how we want our favorite franchises to do better when representing women and their stories, and one of the best ways to do this is to ensure that a diverse group of people are involved with the crafting of those stories.

Look up how many women have been hired to direct your favorite movies and TV shows. Raise awareness in your fandom. Organize around #AskForMore, or make a specific hashtag for your fandom. And at conventions and on Tumblr and Twitter, ask for more women directors. Be respectful, and remember that the person you are talking with may want to help and is possibly being stymied by someone else involved with hiring directors (it is an incredibly convoluted process, with multiple people involved). Instead of making accusations, ask what they are doing or will do to ensure that more women are hired to direct.

As a fangirl, I am deeply invested in not just the stories that my favorite movies and TV shows are telling, but also the environment in which those stories are created. I want the franchises I love to do better by the women working in the industry, and I’m willing to hold them accountable to make it happen.


Alyssa Franke is the author of Whovian Feminism, where she analyzes Doctor Who from a feminist perspective. You can find her on Tumblr and Twitter @WhovianFeminism.

The Capaldi Conundrum: How We Attack the Female Gaze

In any fandom based on visual media, fangirls are attacked because of the way the female gaze is misunderstood and misrepresented.

tumblr_mydrn9XRoh1rcy5pco4_500_capaldi4


This guest post by Alyssa Franke appears as part of our theme week on The Female Gaze.


Fangirls everywhere face a common frustration. Call it what you like, there’s a name for almost every fandom — Marvel has the Chrises Conundrum, Sherlockians have the Cumberbatch Conundrum, Whovians have the Capaldi Conundrum. In any fandom based on visual media, fangirls are attacked because of the way the female gaze is misunderstood and misrepresented.

The female gaze is often assumed to be singularly focused on male objectification, to the exclusion of anything else. As a result, women are assumed to either be sexual beings who are present solely to gaze at male bodies, or intellectual beings capable of understanding and appreciating media. Unlike men, we are not allowed to be both at the same time.

Set aside, for the moment, the question about whether or not we can say that the female gaze really exists in franchises that are largely written, produced, and directed by men. At the very least, the creators of these franchises have attempted to appeal to what they believe is the female gaze — a presumed straight female audience — by objectifying their male leads.

Marvel hasn’t been shy about objectifying Chris Hemsworth’s body in his multiple on-screen appearances as Thor. His first solo movie featured several shirtless or partially clothed scenes, but by his second solo film we were upgraded to softly lit, lingering shots of Thor’s torso as he bathed. And Marvel didn’t tiptoe around the blatant objectification and who it was intended for. In a later scene, a woman deliberately falls onto Thor in a crowded subway car just to get a subtle feel of Thor’s chest. Thor is here for women to ogle, and he’s totally down for it.

tumblr_n2tt3ng8il1rzoil5o1_500

The creators of Sherlock have also gleefully displayed Benedict Cumberbatch’s body for the enjoyment of his fangirls. Cumberbatch wasn’t deliberately objectified in the first season of Sherlock, though with his well-tailored suits and tight shirts, he certainly wasn’t being hidden away. But by the second season, he was being shamelessly objectified for the female audience. In a now infamous scene, Sherlock answers a summons to Buckingham Palace completely naked, wrapped only in a bed sheet. When he attempts to leave, his brother Mycroft steps on the edge of the sheet and pulls it down, giving women an eyeful of Cumberbatch’s torso and backside.

tumblr_lyo7n2Jpki1qhl6oao2_r1_500

Doctor Who has been slightly more circumspect about appealing to the female gaze. Multiple female characters are shown gazing at or discussing the attractiveness of the various Doctors, but the men’s bodies themselves are rarely visually objectified for the viewer in the way female bodies are. Scenes with partial nudity are usually portrayed as slapstick or comedic scenes.

There are a few exceptions to this. In a special skit produced for a TV charity marathon, Matt Smith’s Doctor donates his wardrobe for charity. But he’s soon forced to hide behind his TARDIS as the viewers — presumably straight women — discover that pressing a button on their remotes will strip him of his clothing. The event is scripted and presented as a comedy, but women are actively shown objectifying Matt Smith’s body for their enjoyment. And in the first season of the new Doctor Who, Captain Jack, played by John Barrowman, has his clothes zapped away by two female-coded androids. Now naked in front of millions of television viewers, he flirtatiously tells the androids, “Ladies, your viewing figures just went up.”

tumblr_n7v0tpHEn31txbdydo3_250

Given the overall ratio of female objectification in media — and indeed, the ratio of female objectification in each of these franchises — the number of times men are objectified for a straight female audience is practically insignificant. But there’s an enormous disparity in the way male and female fans are treated when they react to this objectification.

Male fans can openly and loudly express their attraction to the female actors in a franchise without question. They can show their appreciation for moments where women are objectified without having their knowledge of a franchise questioned and tested. And their intellectual appreciation and understanding of a show is rarely challenged as a result. If anything, the recent surge of “sexposition” in high-brow TV shows seems to show that creators believe that appealing to the male gaze is necessary while delivering exposition and commentary.

Female fans do not have that same power, respect, or freedom.

In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, female fans are assumed to only watch the movies because of the attractiveness of the male actors. This attitude goes alongside a general suspicion that female fans of Marvel comics and the MCU are not “real” or “serious” fans, and female fans are often challenged to prove their knowledge of the extensive and convoluted history of those comic book characters.

Untitled1

Female fans of Sherlock have faced similar attitudes. The popular caricature of Sherlock’s fanbase, repeated ad nauseam on the internet and by the media, portrays the show’s fans as crazy Benedict Cumberbatch fangirls. And sure, many female fans do find Cumberbatch attractive. But he is not the sole reason that the vast majority of fans are watching Sherlock. Female fans are also watching for the witty writing, compelling mysteries, and the plethora of other amazingly talented actors called upon to play these classic roles.

Even within the larger Sherlock Holmes fan community, female fans tend to be dismissed based on the assumption that they are exclusively fans of Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and are ignorant of the larger Holmes canon. This is often accompanied by the misogynistic assumption that they are only watching Sherlock to ogle Cumberbatch.

In one particularly notable incident, Phillip Shreffler, a member of the Baker Street Irregulars literary society and former editor of the Baker Street Journal, wrote an article denouncing modern “fans” (a term he uses derisively) of Sherlock Holmes and praising instead the “elite devotees” who meet his accepted level of serious appreciation for the Sherlock Holmes canon. But his screed particularly targeted young female fans of Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, and he specifically singled out the Baker Street Babes podcast, which is composed entirely of women. Ironically, the Babes are devoted to discussing every incarnation of the Holmes story. It was Shreffler who assumed that young women would only be interested in Sherlock Holmes to watch Cumberbatch.

And then we have the Capaldi Conundrum. When it was announced that Peter Capaldi was being cast as the next Doctor, a particularly malicious glee began to seep through some parts of the Doctor Who fandom. At 55 years old, Peter Capaldi was breaking the trend of younger, more conventionally attractive men being cast as the Doctor. And some fans became to wonder if an older Doctor would “drive away” female fangirls.

To these fans, young female fans were interlopers in the Doctor Who fandom. They weren’t real or serious fans that were dedicated to the show or its history. They were just silly little fangirls sucked into watching the latest Doctors because the actors playing them were young and cute. They assumed Peter Capaldi’s casting as the Twelfth Doctor would drive fangirls away from where they didn’t belong. Accusations that female fans only watched Doctor Who to ogle its male actors appeared side-by-side with accusations that female fans weren’t “real” Doctor Who fans.

Untitled2

When most men try to imagine why women watch visual media — when they try to conceive of what the female gaze might be like — they tend to assume women are focused on viewing men as sexual objects. In its most benign form, this assumption results in male writers, directors, and producers creating scenes where men present themselves as passive sexual objects. For which we thank them.

chris-evans-gif-2

But in it’s most misogynistic form, this assumption portrays the female gaze as something shallow and infantile. If a character is portrayed by an attractive actor, that must be the only reason why women like that character. If a franchise moves into a visual medium or is suddenly filled with attractive actors, that must be the only reason why women decide to become fans of that franchise. Within this mindset, women are assumed to have no interest in the story or its thematic elements. We are assumed to have no deeper intellectual appreciation for that franchise.

These dismissive attitudes put female fans in a bind. Because while we can and do have a deeper interest in and appreciation for a franchise beyond its male actors, many of us are interested in ogling hot guys.

I can be interested in Chris Evans’ ass and still want to examine the way the Captain America franchise examines the current American conflict over the lengths we should go to ensure security. I can watch the gif of a sheet being pulled off of Benedict Cumberbatch’s torso on repeat for hours and still examine the way Sherlock interprets the Holmes canon for a modern audience. And I can stare at gifs of David Tennant’s hair for days and still want to spend the next week marathoning episodes of Jon Pertwee’s and Peter Capaldi’s Doctors.

tumblr_m3ixtep4O91qanr0lo7_400

We need media that employs the female gaze — we need media that is written, directed, and produced by women for an audience of women. We need media that puts women at the center of the narrative and presents them as sexual beings rather than sexual objects. But more than that, we need to treat female viewers with the same respect we treat male viewers. We need to treat them as beings capable of intellectually and emotionally appreciating a piece of media while simultaneously being capable of appreciating Captain America’s ass.

chris-evans-butt

God bless America.

 


Alyssa Franke is the author of Whovian Feminism, where she analyzes Doctor Who from a feminist perspective. You can find her on Twitter @WhovianFeminism.

A Fragile Masculinity: Genderswapping Male Characters

Part of this belief comes from the assumption that casting women in these roles is always an attempt to tone down the masculine-coded characteristics associated with these characters. Vaguely omnipotent feminist forces are conspiring to emasculate hyper-masculine characters by recasting them as women, so the argument goes.

unnamed


This guest post by Alyssa Franke appears as part of our theme week on Masculinity.


Recasting major characters of beloved franchises is always tricky. Even when creative teams attempt to recreate the original character as closely as possible, there will inevitably be complaints that the new actor could never be as good as the original. But when creators attempt to radically change the character by, say, changing their gender or race, then shit really hits the fan.

Fans of established franchises are conditioned to expect men in certain roles. Starbuck and Thor are supposed to be portrayed by hyper-masculine men. John Watson and James Moriarty aren’t supposed to be Joan Watson and Jamie Moriarty. The Master from Doctor Who is supposed to be played by the likes of Roger Delgado, Anthony Ainley, and John Simm, not Michelle Gomez. Or so say some disgruntled fanboys.

But these iconic male roles have all been successfully portrayed by women. These women have received critical acclaim for their portrayals and have amassed male and female fans alike. However, there’s a certain segment of viewers that are fundamentally, irreversibly opposed to casting women in roles that were previously portrayed by men. To them, casting a woman in these roles isn’t just an affront to the franchise — it’s a direct attack on men and masculinity.

Part of this belief comes from the assumption that casting women in these roles is always an attempt to tone down the masculine-coded characteristics associated with these characters. Vaguely omnipotent feminist forces are conspiring to emasculate hyper-masculine characters by recasting them as women, so the argument goes.

When Marvel announced that the new Thor would be portrayed by a woman, some readers argued that this was an attempt to create a more “politically correct” Thor. This argument was repeated so frequently and so loudly that the creators actually referenced it in Issue #5 in a battle between the new Thor and the villain Absorbing Man. When Absorbing Man learns that a woman is now Thor, he responds:

“Damn feminists are ruining everything! […] Thor’s a dude. One of the last manly dudes still left. What’d you do, send him to sensitivity training so he’d stop calling Earth girls ‘wenches’?”

tumblr_inline_no7k0rpLOQ1r4rbqj_500

Dirk Benedict, who portrayed the original Starbuck in the 1978 Battlestar Galactica series, made a similar argument when his character was recast and portrayed by Katee Sackhoff in the rebooted 2003 series. He argued that “the Suits” had attempted to tone down his cigar-smoking, womanizing character during the original series run, and when given the chance to recast his character, they accomplished their original aim by recasting Starbuck as a woman:

“The best minds in the world of un-imagination doubled their intake of Double Soy Lattes as they gathered in their smoke-free offices to curse the day this chauvinistic Viper Pilot was allowed to be. But never under estimate the power of  the un-imaginative mind when it encounters an obstacle (character) it  subconsciously loathes. ‘Re-inspiration’ struck. Starbuck would go the way of most men in today’s society. Starbuck would become ‘Stardoe’. What the Suits of yesteryear had been incapable of doing to Starbuck 25 years ago was accomplished quicker than you can say orchiectomy. Much quicker. As in, ‘Frak! Gonads Gone!’”

The particular irony in regard to Benedict’s argument is that the new Starbuck portrayed many of the same characteristics Benedict assumed “the Suits” were trying to eradicate from his portrayal of Starbuck. Sackhoff’s Starbuck gambled and smoked cigars. She was the best Viper pilot in the fleet, and made sure that everyone knew it. And she was freely, openly sexual. She flirted, she talked dirty, and she had sex without shame.

And although most media with a genderswapped major character does make a commentary on gender, they’re hardly making an attack on masculinity writ large.

The creators of Battlestar Galactica were certainly thinking of representations of masculinity and femininity when they recast Starbuck. Executive producer Ronald Moore commented that they decided to switch Starbuck’s gender in order to avoid the “rogue pilot with a heart of gold” cliche, and because the notion of women in the military was still a relatively new idea at the time. Portraying Starbuck as a woman was a way to broaden Starbuck’s story. It is a way of showing that the stories of soldiers, charming rogues who drink and smoke, and arrogant pilots don’t solely belong to men.

In the latest take on the Sherlock Holmes canon, the TV show Elementary offers a critique on infantilizing perceptions of women by genderswapping Holmes’ most infamous rival. Though most recent adaptations of the Sherlock Holmes canon introduce Irene Adler as a pawn of Professor James Moriarty, in Elementary Irene Adler is a persona used by Jaimie Moriarty in order to get close to Sherlock Holmes. She isn’t a damsel in need of saving, but she’ll play one if flattering a man’s ego gives her the advantage. When her identity is revealed, she comments that she often had a male lieutenant impersonate her in order to placate clients who may have dismissed her for her gender, “As if men had a monopoly on murder.”

In Thor, a very clear contrast is drawn between how Thor and his father Odin react to a woman becoming the new Thor. Odin is angry and threatened that Mjolnir has declared his son unworthy, and lashes out in increasingly aggressive and dangerous ways in an attempt to forcefully reclaim Mjolnir. Thor, though initially angry at becoming unworthy, ultimately accepts that he has been replaced, gives the new Thor the respect she deserves, and begins the hard work of examining how he became unworthy. This isn’t an attack on masculinity — it’s a commentary on a particularly toxic form of masculinity.

But even when no overt commentary is made on masculinity, simply having a woman portray a character previously portrayed by a man can be seen as challenging representations of masculinity. Allowing a woman to portray characteristics associated with that male character — strength, logical reasoning, aggression, obstinance — destabilizes the idea that these characteristics are inherently male.

And again, it’s Dirk Benedict who summarizes this perspective in his attack on Katee Sackhoff’s Starbuck. His argument that recasting Starbuck as a woman diminishes the character relies heavily on gender essentialist stereotypes:

“Women are from Venus. Men are from Mars […] Men hand out cigars. Women ‘hand out’ babies. And thus the world, for thousands of years, has gone round.”

Even when Sackhoff’s Starbuck portrays the same characteristics as his Starbuck, Benedict grants them less legitimacy as displays of power or dominance because she is a woman. For example, Sackhoff’s Starbuck smokes a cigar like a man — if she’s not smoking it casually for own enjoyment she’s puffing on it aggressively as a sign of power and dominance.

nkht2hb

But regardless, Benedict chooses to interpret Sackhoff smoking a cigar as something titillating for male enjoyment:

“I’m not sure if a cigar in the mouth of Stardoe resonates in the same way it did in the mouth of Starbuck. Perhaps. Perhaps it ‘resonates’ more. Perhaps that’s the point.”

This type of diminishing commentary is fairly common around genderswapped characters. In discussions about whether the Doctor from Doctor Who could regenerate into a woman, someone inevitably condescendingly asks whether the Doctor would have to be renamed “the Nurse.” Readers of Thor wondered if the new woman Thor would get a new name — a scenario the creators shot down decisively in the comic when the original Thor proclaimed that his replacement would simply be called “Thor,” not Lady Thor, Thorette, or Thorita.

Benedict also laments that this new version of Battlestar Galactica is “female-driven”:

“The male characters, from Adama on down, are confused, weak, and wracked  with indecision while the female characters are decisive, bold, angry as hell, puffing cigars (gasp) and not about to take it any more.”

I disagree strongly with his characterization that the men of Battlestar Galactica are universally confused, weak, or wracked with indecision. Like any good character, they have moments of indecision or weakness, but they also are firm, decisive, and commanding. They also have moments where they are challenged fiercely — particularly by women leaders — and must acquiesce to their leadership or admit they were wrong. And I think it says a lot about Benedict’s opinion of women if he believes being challenged or commanded by a woman is a sign that a man is weak or confused.

That’s one of the main reasons why genderswapping male characters can be so transformative in a franchise. Male roles are frequently written to portray men as active characters who drive their own lives and narrative arcs, while women are largely written as passive characters who are viewed, pursued, and driven by the actions of men. When a woman inhabits a role previously given to a man, that formula is reversed.

Though franchises that change the gender of major characters can offer compelling, insightful commentaries on gender, their greatest contribution to this discussion may lie in the way they reveal our various insecurities around representations of gender. We accept that so much about these characters can change. Thirteen different men can play the Doctor, a frog can become Thor, the Sherlock Holmes canon can be reinterpreted in a thousand different contexts — but we cling to the idea that these characters must be portrayed by men.

These genderswapped characters destabilize a gender binary which encourages us to think that certain characteristics and stories belong to men. Some, like Dirk Benedict, cling even more fiercely to those old representations of masculinity. But hopefully, these characters are pushing us to broaden our perceptions of masculinity and femininity.

 


Alyssa Franke is the author of Whovian Feminism, where she analyzes Doctor Who from a feminist perspective. You can find her on Twitter @WhovianFeminism.