Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Amber‘s Picks:
Megan‘s Picks:

Race and The Walking Dead: Why Michonne Matters by Renee and Sparky via Racialicious
Labor of Love: How Women Are Changing Documentaries by Chanda Chevannes via Women and Hollywood

What have you been reading this week? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Amber’s Picks:

GOP women contribute importantly to the political landscape — with their looks via About-Face

The Man Who Loved Movies (and Women) Andrew Sarris Honored by MoMA, American Academy of Arts & Letters by Penelope Andrew via HuffPost



Megan’s Picks:

Amy Poehler and Meryl Streep Are Pissed About Attacks on Reproductive Rights by Amanda Marcotte via Slate’s XX Factor

Yes, There Are Fat Women Getting Hollywood Roles…But We Still Treat Them Like Crap by Lindy West via Jezebel

Nashville, and Why All Female Rivalries Aren’t Catfights by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Middle of Nowhere and the Black Independent Film Movement by Roya Rastegar via The Huffington Post

“Your Women are Oppressed, But Ours Are Awesome”: How Nicholas Kristof and Half the Sky Use Women Against Each Other by Sayantani DasGupta via Racialicious

Women on TV Step Off the Scale by Allessandra Stanley via The New York Times

Could Issa Rae Save the Black Sitcom? by Jason Parham via The Atlantic 

10 Reasons We Won’t Participate in the Lena Dunham Backlash by Emma Gray and Margaret Wheeler Johnson via The Huffington Post

Why Dredd Is Really a Superheroine Movie by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

What have you been reading this week? Tell us in the comments!



Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Stephanie‘s Picks:

Gaycism and the New Normal: The “Hot” Trend This TV Season Is Bigotry by Nico Lang via In Our Words

Caroline Thomson: BBC Still Has Work to Do on Sexism and Ageism by Emma Barnett via The Telegraph

Presidential Debate Commission Co-Chair Blames TV Networks for Lack of Diversity Among Moderators by Tracie Powell via Poynter

Where the Girls Aren’t: What the Absence of Female Friendships on Network TV Reveals by Sheila Moeschen via Huffington Post

Joss Whedon’s S.H.I.E.L.D Show Will Feature A Lot of Women by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Women in Film: A Feminist’s Take by Riley Stevenson via Flux Magazine

What Do Feminists Have Left?: The Factuary

“Ugh, What’s Up With All These Feminists Being Funny?” Says Chronically Unfunny Woman by Erin Gloria Ryan via Jezebel

Megan‘s Picks:

Amy Poehler’s Systematic Dismantling of the Emmys by Alex Cranz via FemPop

When Will the Media Start Portraying Black Women Without Betraying Them? by Tracey Ross via Racialicious

Rebel Wilson, Pitch Perfect and Body Acceptance by Kerensa Cadenas via Women and Hollywood

Awkward Black Girl‘s Issa Rae Gets a Sitcom with Shonda Rhimes’ Help by Alex Cranz via FemPop

Funny Women Flourish in Female-Written Comedies by Sandy Cohen via The Boston Globe

The Best Quotes from Tina Fey’s Entertainment Weekly Interview by Kerensa Cadenas via Women and Hollywood

DGA Report Shows Few Strides for Female and Minority TV Directors by Richard Verrier via The Los Angeles Times

Raising Hope Star Martha Plimpton on Politics in Television and The War on Women by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress


What have you been reading this week?? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Megan‘s Picks:

“No Love in the Wild” [on Beasts of the Southern Wild] by bell hooks via NewBlackMan (in Exile)

Black Power Takes Center Stage at TIFF with Angela Davis Documentary by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

Fox Host to Scarlett Johansson: “You’re Worth Millions” — Pay for Your Friends’ Contraceptives “Instead of Asking Me” via RH Reality Check

Gender, Power, and Chris Brown’s Battered Woman Tattoo by Lisa Wade via Sociological Images

James Cameron: ‘Hollywood Gets Action Women Wrong’ by Hadley Freeman via The Guardian

From Lena Dunham to Junot Diaz, How to Write People Who Aren’t You by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Mandy Patinkin Left Criminal Minds Over Show’s Subversive Misogyny by Alex Cranz via FemPop

Everything You Need to Know About SNL’s New Lady Cast Members by Intern Scarlett via Bust Magazine 

Amy Poehler Teaches You to Feel Better About Your Body by Lindy West via Jezebel

Stephanie‘s Picks:

‘Marigold’ and ‘Moonrise’: Summer 2012 Indie B.O. Champs by Scott Myers via Go Into the Story

TIFF Programmer Dishes on Film Roles for Women, George Clooney and Saying No by Derek Carkner via CityNews Toronto

Is Parks and Rec the Most Feminist Show on TV? by Emily Heist Moss via Rosie Says

Beginning to See by Karina Longworth via Slate

Feminist Africa Issue 16. 2012: African Feminist Engagements with Film via African Gender Institute

A Woman Among Warlords via Indiegogo

In Defense of “Bachelorette’s” Mean Girls by Willa Paskin via Salon

The New New Girl: Mindy Kaling Promotes Herself Out of The Office and Into The Mindy Project by Jada Yuan via Vulture

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Stephanie‘s Picks:
Does Lena Dunham’s “Casual Racism” Matter? by Samhita Mukhopadhyay via Feministing
This Is Perfect and That Is Not Sarcasm by Melissa McEwan via Shakesville
Megan‘s Picks:
The Glamorous Lure of Hollywood Violence by Madeleine Gyory via Women’s Media Center
Remembering Phyllis Diller by Kelsey Wallace via Bitch Magazine Blog
Brenda Chapman on Writing Brave by Susan J. Morris via Women and Hollywood 
What have you been reading this week?? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Stephanie‘s Picks:

Must We Worry About the Boys of ‘Brave’? by KJ Dell’antonia via the New York Times

Why I Heart GIRLS & Lena Dunham’s Body via Virginia Sole-Smith

TV Trailer Watch: Steel Magnolias via Women and Hollywood

Nora Ephron, Prolific Author and Screenwriter, Dies at Age 71 by Adam Bernstein via the Washington Post

Image Based Harassment and Visual Misogyny by Anita Sarkeesian via Feminist Frequency

Helen Mirren Calls for More Female Film-makers by Ben Child via the Guardian

Megan‘s Picks:

The Fight Against Misogyny in Gaming Enlists Some Big Names by Katie JM Baker via Jezebel

Cross-Post: Oscar Flashback: Nora Ephron: by Sasha Stone via Women and Hollywood

Magic Mike: Old Sexism in a New Package by Carole Heldman via Sociological Images

Girl Power: What Happens When Thousands of Teen Girls Ask Seventeen to Stop Selling Them Out by Kaye Toal via UpWorthy

‘Love & Hip-Hop Atlanta’ Shouldn’t Embarrass Black and Brown Women by Akiba Solomon via ColorLines

Thank God Rachel Maddow Is Depressed by Lynn Beisner via Role/Reboot

Feminist with a Funny Bone by Michele Kort via Ms. Magazine Blog

Seventeen Magazine’s New Photoshop Policy Is the Same as The Old Photoshop Policy by Jenna Sauers via Jezebel

Louis C.K. Bucks Casting Trends with Susan Kelechi Watson by Latoya Peterson via Racialicious

‘Strong Female Protagonist’ Takes on Superhero Comics — and Occupy Wall Street by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Amy Poehler Interviews Tiny Feminists, Inspires Us by Alanna Bennett via The Mary Sue 

Memo to Hollywood: Women Go to the Movies Too by Melissa Silverstein via The Washington Post

Guest Writer Wednesday: Ann Perkins and Me: It’s Complicated

Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins
This is a guest post from Peggy Cooke.
 
I feel guilty bringing up Ann Perkins in any discussion of Parks and Recreation, mainly because the positive relationship between Ann and Leslie is one of the main things that makes the show so great (and groundbreaking!) for many people (read: feminists) I talk to about it, but: I don’t like Ann Perkins.

When Ann was introduced in the pilot episode of the NBC sitcom as a disgruntled citizen at a public forum being hosted by Leslie Knope of the Parks and Rec Department of Pawnee, Indiana, she seemed to be one of the many cranks with whom Leslie tends to deal on a regular basis. Some of the funniest recurring characters on this show are the kooky folks who keep turning up to these forums, most notably the sprinkler-tea-making, poop-eating-dog-having woman who constantly blames her alarming lack of basic health knowledge on local government; and the “except for Turnip! Except for Turnip!” chanting guy who is a favourite in our household. But no, Ann had a legitimate complaint about a pit into which her boyfriend had recently fallen, a pit whose betterment would form the main goal of the show’s first (and worst) season.

The fact that Ann and Leslie got off to an antagonistic beginning makes it even more wonderful that they were able to become best friends, brilliantly subverting the cat fight trope that most other sitcoms would have gone with. Throughout the series Ann and Leslie have butted heads, but always remained respectful of each other, and their relationship is one of the best examples of female friendship in pop culture today. It is real, and it is lovely, and it is one of the two main purposes I believe the character of Ann serves on the show.

Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins
The other purpose, which was used brilliantly in the second season and half of the third, was as a kind of “only sane man” counterpoint to the Parks and Rec department (for what I hope should be obvious reasons, the “only sane man” trope will be from hereon out referred to as “only reasonable person,” or ORP). As the only main character not working at City Hall, Ann was able to provide a lens through which your average viewer could watch the story unfold, and I believe that in the capacity of ORP she prevented the writers from making the world they had created too insulated and self-referential. The show is a successful satire in part because it never gets too carried away or too cartoon-y. Making fun of local government isn’t entertaining if only people who work in local government get the jokes.

Until the arrival of the state auditors in season three, Ann perfectly fulfilled the role of ORP. However, gradually Ben began to usurp that role, with his Jim Halpert-esque glances into the camera, and his total confusion over the appeal of Li’l Sebastian (“he just whinnied!”). Even though he worked at City Hall, Ben was more of an outsider than Ann – he’s not from Pawnee, after all. This easily set up Ann’s transition to actually working at City Hall, which makes it easier to explain why she is always there, but takes away a vital aspect of her character’s purpose.

I still believe Ann should be on the show because, like I said, her relationship with Leslie is pretty much the best thing on TV right now. But I find it somewhat ironic that a character who is part of such a feminist depiction of female relationships – that manages to be both aspirational and realistic – is so utterly two-dimensional that it seems she is only on the show to fill that role. Part of this could be due to Rashida Jones’ questionable acting talent (you have to admit she is the weak link in an otherwise phenomenal cast), but mostly I believe it is a rare lazy tendency on the part of the writers. Now that she is no longer the ORP, what is the point of Ann? Why can’t they seem to flesh her out a little?

Mark and Ann
One of my main issues with the portrayal of Ann is in her romantic relationships, which alternately make me cringe, and bore me to tears. The Mark-and-Ann (“Anndanowitz”) arc of season two was so dull I wanted to leave the room every time they were onscreen. Ditto Chris and Ann, who had zero sexual tension, and whose only moment of interest came about a week after they broke up, when Ann finally found out (and honestly, the best part of that storyline came from Leslie reciting the horrible ways in which various men have called it off with her).

The flipside of the boredom is the cringing. Andy and Ann were terrible together, a fact which the show (and pretty much every character in it) has at least had the decency to acknowledge. The whole concept of Ann being attracted to Andy because she needs someone to take care of is so played out, and it was great to see the writers just stick that whole mess on a shelf and get Andy and April together, because they are a) a way better match, and b) adorable.

And then there’s Ann and Tom. Holy crap, is this a bad idea or what? It’s all the cringe-worthy grossness of Ann and Andy, all the boredom of Mark and Ann, and about the same amount of chemistry as Ann and Chris. Minus a million. First of all, Ann has never shown anything but contemptuous tolerance (is that a thing?) for Tom since the beginning. His maturity level alone is enough to tell her that he’s not worth her time. Earlier in the series, any time Tom hit on Ann it was so clearly a joke, I don’t think any fan of the show would ever be cheering for these two to get together. What possible madness seized the writers’ room and made them think this was a good idea?

Tom and Ann
There have been a couple of great moments of Ann calling Tom out on his custom-hats, waiting-in-the-rain bullshit, but no moments at all that would indicate that Ann is even interested in being with Tom. In the recent episode “Sweet Sixteen” they had a perfect set up to end it – ie they both realized the numerous reasons they were incompatible – but inexplicably got back together at the end of the episode in a dialogue we weren’t even shown, probably because the writers didn’t know how to write it, because what would they say?

Ann: Hey we aren’t compatible at all and I kinda don’t even like you. Your constant objectification of me and lack of respect for my basic humanity tend to somehow make both of us less appealing.

Tom: Yeah. Oh well, what else do you have going on?

Ann: Apparently nothing. Let’s ride this out.

I mean, seriously. Many people seem ready to give this otherwise terrific show the benefit of the doubt, but I’ve already had enough of waiting for Ann’s storylines to appeal to me. And the line at the end of the record studio episode where Ann agrees to go out with Tom, saying that he “wore [her] down,” would have made me quit on a less consistently feminist show. That shit is not cool.

In my (obviously super correct and valuable) opinion, Ann needs to be a lot more three-dimensional before her storylines are all taken up with relationship plots, much like in life how relationships always work out better when you’re cool with yourself first. As a viewer, I would like to care as deeply about Ann as I do about Leslie (and let me tell you something, that is pretty deeply) before I will care about how she fares in a relationship with some dude.

On the flip side of that, I need Tom’s ridiculous antics to be something we are supposed to laugh at; not something that is validated by relationships with women who are way too good for him. And we all know that Ann is probably way too good for Tom; we just need the story to show us that. Otherwise what message are we supposed to take from what used to be the most progressive show on TV?

———-

Peggy Cooke is a Canadian feminist who works as a non-profit staffer by day and a reproductive justice rabble rouser by… later that same day. Her resume has been described as “fascinating.” She writes about abortion at Anti-Choice is Anti-Awesome and Abortion Gang, and she reviews fiction set in Toronto at Smoke City Stories.

Top 10 of 2011: Leslie Knope

Guest writer Diane Shipley penned the #4 post in 2011 for our series on Emmy nominees. The piece really struck a nerve for those of us who adore the show–and the character. All we can say is “Knope 2012!” 
_______
Amy Poehler as Leslie Knope
“It’s a great time to be a woman in politics… Get on board and buckle up, ‘cos my ride’s gonna be a big one.”
In the Parks and Recreation pilot, Leslie Knope made clear the extent of her political ambitions. But it was also clear that she was deluded. The Deputy Director of a tiny government department in the fictional small town of Pawnee, Indiana, she earnestly compared herself to Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin. She forged ahead with a plan to build a park in a lot abandoned by a developer, against the advice of her senior colleagues, and when investigating a dangerous pit in the middle of that lot, she fell in. “She’s a little doofy,” Rashida Jones’ Ann spelled out, just in case we hadn’t got the message.
There were few clues back then that Leslie would become one of the most endearing sitcom characters of all time, let alone a feminist icon. In fact, the character TV critics drew the most comparisons with was Michael Scott from The Office. This was understandable, given that, like The Office, Parks and Rec was created by Greg Daniels and Michael Schur, is filmed in a “mockumentary” style, and in season one, had a dry humor that encouraged us to laugh at, not with, its characters. It got a lukewarm reception, perhaps because no one wanted yet another cynical sitcom.
Thank goodness then, that in season two the Leslie we know and love emerged. Still an idealist, but with a strong practical streak and the ability to get things done. No longer mooning over a long-ago office-mate tryst, but having an actual love life. She’s not optimistic because she doesn’t know better, but because she chooses to be, as a survival mechanism. Instead of considering her an affable fool, her now-best friend Ann tells her she’s, “Cool, sexy, funny, and smart.”


See also: #10 in 2011, #9 in 2011, #8 in 2011, #7 in 2011, #6 in 2011, and #5 in 2011.

2011 Emmy Analysis

More than a week has passed since the 2011 Emmy Awards, but there are a few moments I can’t stop thinking about. I live-tweeted the show this year, which is both a fun and exhausting experience, and enjoyed the interactions with other people watching and reacting on Twitter. (What?! You don’t follow us on Twitter? Go! Now!) Jane Lynch did a wonderful job hosting, and threw out some memorable zingers (The cast of Entourage!).

If your approach to awards shows is Who gives an eff? I can’t blame you, but respectfully disagree. We’ve written before about the kind of cultural work awards shows do. In short, the Emmys this year (every year?) exhibited the continued dominance of whiteness and maleness in our culture, made the implicit argument that those are the people who tell and create the important stories, and created the (false) impression that those are the kinds of stories we (should) want to see. (Check out the breakdown of people of color who were nominated this year at Racialicious. Out of 25 awards, not a single one went to a person of color.)

Here are my thoughts:

1. Only five* women gave solo acceptance speeches. These women were nominated in acting categories specifically designated for women.

Sometimes I wonder if any women at all would be recognized in film/television if the acting awards were gender neutral (and I asked earlier this year if we need a Best Female Director category at the Oscars).

Here are the winners:

  • Melissa McCarthy won Lead Actress in a Comedy Series for Mike & Molly 
  • Julie Bowen won Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series for Modern Family
  • Julianna Marguiles won Lead Actress in a Drama Series for The Good Wife
  • Margo Martindale won Supporting Actress in a Drama Series for Justified
  • Kate Winslet won Lead Actress in a Miniseries or Movie for Mildred Pierce
  • Maggie Smith won Supporting Actress in a Miniseries or Movie for Downton Abbey (*she wasn’t there to accept the award)
2. The satirical beauty pageant staged by the women nominated for Outstanding Actress in a Comedy Series was both my favorite and least-favorite moment.
Here it is, in case you missed the show:

I won’t say much about this, because it’s been written about in very smart ways already (check out Opinioness of the World‘s take, for starters), but it’s interesting that this setup, planned by Amy Poehler, was one of the few moments that deviated from awards show standards. I loathed Rob Lowe’s “girls” comment, even if it was part of the plan (I don’t know if it was), and feel ambivalent about the rest. Yes, the beauty pageant spoof emphasizes the fact that these shows are often most watched and discussed for What The Women Are Wearing. For many viewers, I suspect, fashion overshadows the actual awards. Women’s bodies and apparel choices are criticized and critiqued in every imaginable way, as if they are public property. But I question how effectively that message was delivered. The moment I think worked much better was Poehler and McCarthy joking about men finally getting substantial roles this year. However, it was great to see this group of talented women up on the stage together, supporting one another, and bringing a feminist sense of humor to the show.

3. Does Modern Family teach tolerance?
In accepting Modern Family‘s Emmy for Outstanding Comedy Series, Steve Levitan relayed the anecdote of a gay couple telling him “you’re not just making people laugh, you’re making them more tolerant.” The most radical element of Modern Family, to me, is the depiction of a gay couple as loving parents. The word “tolerant,” however, is a tricky one. A person can be “tolerant” while still holding deeply seated racist/sexist/homophobic views. What Modern Family doesn’t do is challenge stereotypes or force anyone to really examine their prejudice. We still have the effeminate gay men, the feisty Latina, and the rich man with a much younger (and beautiful) woman. We have a cast of entirely upper-middle class white people, with the exception of Gloria and her son, Manny. Don’t get me wrong: I think Modern Family is a very funny show, but let’s not go off the deep end congratulating them for depicting a very narrow kind of “tolerance.”

Also, someone should tell Oustanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series winner Ty Burrell that repeated jokes about wearing makeup to work and being a “very masculine lady” (even in the context of imagining what his father would say about his job) doesn’t really jibe with that whole “making people more tolerant” idea.

If you haven’t already, check out our reviews of the 2011 Emmy Nominees.

Emmy Week 2011: Leslie Knope

Amy Poehler as Leslie Knope

“It’s a great time to be a woman in politics… Get on board and buckle up, ‘cos my ride’s gonna be a big one.”
In the Parks and Recreation pilot, Leslie Knope made clear the extent of her political ambitions. But it was also clear that she was deluded. The Deputy Director of a tiny government department in the fictional small town of Pawnee, Indiana, she earnestly compared herself to Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin. She forged ahead with a plan to build a park in a lot abandoned by a developer, against the advice of her senior colleagues, and when investigating a dangerous pit in the middle of that lot, she fell in. “She’s a little doofy,” Rashida Jones’ Ann spelled out, just in case we hadn’t got the message.
There were few clues back then that Leslie would become one of the most endearing sitcom characters of all time, let alone a feminist icon. In fact, the character TV critics drew the most comparisons with was Michael Scott from The Office. This was understandable, given that, like The Office, Parks and Rec was created by Greg Daniels and Michael Schur, is filmed in a “mockumentary” style, and in season one, had a dry humor that encouraged us to laugh at, not with, its characters. It got a lukewarm reception, perhaps because no one wanted yet another cynical sitcom.
Thank goodness then, that in season two the Leslie we know and love emerged. Still an idealist, but with a strong practical streak and the ability to get things done. No longer mooning over a long-ago office-mate tryst, but having an actual love life. She’s not optimistic because she doesn’t know better, but because she chooses to be, as a survival mechanism. Instead of considering her an affable fool, her now-best friend Ann tells her she’s, “Cool, sexy, funny, and smart.”
She’s also competent: she not only gets that park built, she re-instates Pawnee’s harvest festival, bringing in thousands of dollars in tourism and new business, and saving her department in the process. We start to see that maybe her earlier pronouncements were prescient: why *shouldn’t* Leslie Knope be the first female president?
Yet (for what the term is worth) she’s no Mary Sue: Leslie has flaws, including an obscenely messy house, a horrific dating history (“A guy invited me to a beautiful picnic with wine and flowers and when I tried to sit down, he said ‘Don’t eat anything, Rebecca’s coming.’ And then he broke up with me.”) and a dorky past, which only make her more appealing. It’s a credit to both the writers and Amy Poehler’s acting skill that Leslie is a believable character, not just a caricature. Which is why the comparison of Leslie to Liz Lemon is so ridiculous.
On one level, it’s understandable, of course. In real life, Amy Poehler and Tina Fey are friends, former SNL cast mates and movie co-stars, and both identify as feminists. They’re also in the same age and race demographic and both play female leads on NBC sitcoms. When Parks and Rec started, some articles even implied that Amy Poehler’s success was a threat to Tina Fey’s, as if there could only be one funny woman on a network at a time.
Tina Fey as Liz Lemon
But where Leslie Knope leads her department with skill and good humour despite the petty bureaucracy she often has to negotiate, Liz Lemon is a stress-eating, approval-seeking, baby-stealing mess who dates men who hate her, wears plastic bags as underwear, and is waiting for her real life (the one where she’s married and therefore happy) to start. Tina Fey is charming enough to be entertaining while she portrays this nightmare of modern womanhood, and no doubt she makes a lot of Slanket-wearing insomniacs feel better about themselves. But Fey isn’t just the star of this show, she’s also its showrunner, and it’s not clear what message she’s trying to convey by turning one of the few overtly feminist characters on TV into a self-interested workaholic who always looks to her male boss for guidance. Like Community’s insufferable do-gooder Brita Perry, Lemon’s altruistic and sisterly impulses are often shown to be misguided, undermining not just the character, but feminism as a whole. Perhaps Fey is only trying to puncture the self-righteousness of the movement, but it seems like a weak target when there’s so much misogyny she could be mocking.
Unlike Liz Lemon, Leslie doesn’t just pay lip service to feminist ideals, or spout them in support of her own work goals, she sees political activism on behalf of the women of Pawnee as part of her mandate, and has set up a camp for underprivileged teen girls. And who else, when reluctantly roped in to judge a beauty pageant, would bring her own laminated scorecard with categories including “Knowledge of herstory” and “The Naomi Wolf factor”? (One of the most stealthy and brilliant moments in feminist TV history.) While both Liz and Leslie look to their male bosses for validation, Liz is unable to function without Jack’s help, whereas Leslie is capable of managing the department without Ron’s input, and usually does.
30 Rock frequently employs farce to make us laugh, but Parks and Rec is more lovable because it avoids the obvious and the outsized, creating funny moments by building on what we know about these characters and their relationships. From the second season onward, its lack of cynicism has been refreshing. Tina Fey is great at what she does, but doesn’t have much scope, and doesn’t do vulnerable well. Leslie Knope is unquestionably Amy Poehler’s best role, and it’s because she’s restrained her silly side and concentrated on creating a character we can relate to.
Leslie (Poehler) and Ann (Jones)
One of the most overt ways Leslie’s feminism is displayed is in her friendship with Ann, one of her most significant relationships.  The two women clearly care about and admire each other and are there for each other’s freak-outs. I realized about halfway through season two that I was often clenched when I watched them together, willing them not to fall out. I was sad and shocked to recognize that there’s an undercurrent of bitchiness in so many on-screen female friendships that I’ve started to expect it as standard. Portraying two women who like each other might be the most radical thing a sitcom can do.
I don’t think there’s been such a feminist TV character since the ‘80s, when, at different ends of the class and race spectrum, women like Clair Huxtable and Roseanne Conner challenged sexist expectations through the use of confrontation and sarcasm. The ‘90s saw some backpedalling among feminist characters: Seinfeld’s Elaine Benes struck blows for equality by openly discussing periods and birth control and dumping a man who was anti-abortion, but she mostly showed contempt for her female friends and still bought into outdated gender expectations, like that a man should make the first move on a date. Murphy Brown was a strong, intelligent woman, and in her decision to be a single mother, became the inadvertent enemy of conservative America. But she ended up laughing off her early feminist activism as mere youthful over-exuberance.
Meanwhile, the Friends women valued their independence — Monica was the strongest proponent of the idea that Rachel should cut up her father-funded credit cards — but embodied a very Cosmo, “it’s all up to the individual” post-feminist vision which presents issues of female empowerment (like standing up to sexist bosses and self-defence when your bestie’s boyfriend gets handsy) as individual struggles, rather than the symptoms of the kyriarchy they really are. But these women were paragons of feminist ideals compared to most sitcom women of the ‘90s and ‘00s, who re-created retrograde gender roles with husbands they disdained, nagging all the way, as on King of Queens, Still Standing, Everybody Loves Raymond, and many others.
Sexist tropes these downtrodden wives may have been, but at least they had voices. They’ve since given way to anemic characters like the women of How I Met Your Mother, where Alyson Hannigan’s baby-voiced Lily sighs about the importance of everyone getting married and supports her husband in his dream of becoming an environmental lawyer, while her own ambition to be an artist is played for laughs. Worse, her friend Robin, a news presenter who loves hockey and beer, has her “unfeminine” interests explained by the back-story that her father wanted her to be a boy. HIMYM further plays on gender (and sometimes racial) stereotyping and employs sexist, sexually charged humor as Barney discusses his frequent conquests, saying debasing things which the audience is expected to forgive because Neil Patrick Harris is gay in real life and to complain would mean we didn’t understand post-feminist irony. The same claims can be made by Two and a Half Men, where the (un)importance of autonomous female characters is telegraphed by the title, and The Big Bang Theory, where pretty blonde Penny is just a stereotypically sexy comic foil for a group of clever boys.
It’s notable then, that not only is Leslie Knope an intelligent and capable character, but that these are qualities  admired by her colleagues, friends, and boyfriends. “Flu Season,” the episode for which Poehler is Emmy-nominated, is one of Amy’s, and Leslie’s, finest moments. Charged with making a presentation to local businesses to sell them on the idea of the harvest festival, Leslie refuses to pass the responsibility to her colleague (and soon-to-be love interest) Ben, even though she’s been badly hit by a flu virus. “It’s not that I don’t trust Ben,” she explains. “It’s that I don’t have faith in Ben. And also I’m starting to forget who Ben is.” She escapes from hospital, stealing flu meds from other patients on the way, makes a convincing presentation despite being dizzy and barely able to see her notes, and then collapses into a chair. “That was amazing…” says Ben, his face conveying his admiration. “That was Leslie Knope.”
He’s right: Leslie Knope *is* amazing. Over the course of three seasons, she’s gone from a small-time, small-town government employee with delusions of grandeur to someone it’s easy to believe could make a big splash on the larger political stage one day. I hope she does, and I hope we get to see it.
What’s more, the popularity of her character signals an important change, a backlash against the backlash: the mainstream acceptance of a heroine who lives by feminist values and encourages others to do the same. But she’s just one woman, and a white, able-bodied, cisgender, middle class woman at that. We’re still in need of more diversity: in politics, and more importantly, on TV.

Diane Shipley is a freelance journalist and inveterate blogger with a special interest in social justice as it pertains to TV, books, and actual real life. Her website is www.dianeshipley.com, she tweets as @dianeshipley and she wants Amy Poehler for a BFF.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

On Geekdom and Privilege: Sympathy for the ‘Pretty’? from Racialicious

Sex, Scripts, & Single Ladies from The Crunk Feminist Collective

Riding the Bridesmaids Wave from Women and Hollywood

Wimbledon Likes Their Female Tennis Players Hot and Grunt Free from Feministing

Emmy Watch: Comedy Actresses Fischer, Poehler, Cuoco, Michele, Hatcher from Thompson on Hollywood

Film Corner! from Shakesville

Size double standards are alive and kicking on primetime TV from About-Face

Sex Trafficking Survivors Group to Dilbert Creator: Rape Isn’t “Natural Instinct” from change.org

A note to Hollywood: “maneater” and “sexual criminal” are not interchangeable terms from Feministing

Bad Teacher (review) from Flick Filosopher

Leave your links in the comments!

Quote of the Day: Tina Fey

Bossypants by Tina Fey
Bossypants is a good book. Parts of it are laugh-out-loud-in-public funny, and parts of it make me think Fey is an overprivileged asshat, but still a funny asshat. And, as my friend Abby recently said, “Parts of it just made me love Amy Poehler more.”
In the spirit of loving Amy Poehler, and Tina Fey, here is an excerpt.
Amy Poehler was new to SNL and we were all crowded into the seventeenth-floor writers’ room, waiting for the Wednesday read-through to start. There were always a lot of noisy “comedy bits” going on in that room. Amy was in the middle of some such nonsense with Seth Meyers across the table, and she did something vulgar as a joke. I can’t remember what it was exactly, except it was dirty and loud and “unladylike.”
Jimmy Fallon, who was arguably the star of the show at the time, turned to her and in a faux-squeamish voice said, “Stop that! It’s not cute! I don’t like it.”
Amy dropped what she was doing, went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him. “I don’t fucking care if you like it.” Jimmy was visibly startled. Amy went right back to enjoying her ridiculous bit. (I should make clear that Jimmy and Amy are very good friends and there was never any real beef between them. Insert penis joke here.)
With that exchange, a cosmic shift took place. Amy made it clear that she wasn’t there to be cute. She wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys’ scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not fucking care if you like it.
I was so happy. Weirdly, I remember thinking, “My friend is here! My friend is here!” Even though things had been going great for me at the show, with Amy there, I felt less alone.
I think of this whenever someone says to me, “Jerry Lewis says women aren’t funny, ” or “Christopher Hitchens says women aren’t funny,” or “Rick Fenderman says women aren’t funny…Do you have anything to say to that?”
Yes. We don’t fucking care if you like it.