Arnold Schwarzenegger – Bitch Flicks

‘Terminator Genisys’: Not My Sarah Connor

Sarah Connor teams up with the Terminator

This guest post by Liz LaBrocca appears as part of our theme week on Dystopias.

Terminator Genisys, the fifth installment in the Terminator franchise, reminds you how much you loved Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgement Day while simultaneously destroying everything that made the first two movies exciting, scary, and romantic. In particular, Sarah Connor, damsel in distress turned warrior, has been reduced to a quippy, bland plot device instead of the powerful ready-made warrior she could have been.

The greatness of Sarah Connor’s character (as played by Linda Hamilton) between T1 and T2 was her transition from a frightened young girl to a self-made soldier. Within the first movie alone, we see her transformation from a terrified waitress in need of Kyle Reese’s (Michael Biehn) protection to a woman who is learning that she’s more capable than she ever believed. As their brief love is budding, she bandages one of his wounds. He compliments her field dressing and she, knowing now what her future holds, sadly replies, “Thanks, it’s my first.” By the end of the movie she is trying her best to save his life, commanding him (“Move, Soldier!”) to get up and keep fighting with her. In the end, he sacrifices himself in his best effort to save her and she is left to carry his child, future resistance leader John Connor, and the heavy burden of preparing both of them for the coming nuclear apocalypse.

Linda Hamilton as Sarah Connor in The Terminator calls the police to come to her rescue. — Linda Hamilton as Sarah Connor in *The Terminator* calls the police to come to her rescue

In T2, we jump ten years into the future where John Connor is a wayward teenager, living in a foster home while Sarah is institutionalized for paranoid delusions. She has spent the past decade living with various men in order to learn as much as she can about arming and defending herself. We’re introduced to her in the institution as she does chin-ups on her overturned bed frame to keep herself physically primed for the coming war. While John and the reprogrammed Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger) are coming to rescue Sarah from the T-1000 in the psych ward, she has already mostly broken out on her own. Hamilton’s T2 Sarah Connor was muscular, sweaty, and terse. She looked like someone who had spent a decade physically and emotionally preparing for a nuclear war. At the same time, it was clear that she deeply cared about her son and was struggling with how to be a mother in a world that only she knows is destined to be destroyed. She reflects that the Terminator, ironically, ends up being the best father figure John has known in the absence of Reese.

Linda Hamilton transformed for Terminator 2: Judgement Day’s warrior Sarah Connor — Linda Hamilton transformed for *Terminator 2: Judgement Day*’s warrior Sarah Connor

We were given so little of Sarah in the preview of Genisys, I was holding onto a little hope that she wouldn’t be totally stripped of her mettle as a result of losing her original character arc. In Terminator Genisys, Sarah (played by Emilia Clarke of Game of Thrones) has been raised by the Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger) since she was 9. He was sent back in time to protect her from a T-1000 that had been sent to kill her and her family. There are plenty of reviews that discuss the convoluted time problems and horrifyingly dull plot in Genisys, so I’ll spare you.

Sarah meets Reese (Jai Courtney) knowing that she will need to have sex with this man, regardless of how she feels, to save the human race. It’s an awkward problem that’s dealt with in Schwarzenegger one-liners about mating and a weak attempt at a narrative theme of free will versus destiny. Her dialogue is full of jokes and one-liners instead of the brusque, efficient speech patterns you’d associate with a woman who spent her formative years with a Terminator who has still, several decades later, not mastered the art of smiling despite his detailed files on human anatomy. What was once a heated, passionate romance in the midst of a life-altering conflict, is boiled down to a silly comedy subplot: how does Sarah tell Reese that he’s the father of his best friend and mentor? This problem is further compounded by the painful lack of chemistry between Clarke and Courtney. The one upside to this forced romance subplot is that Sarah’s need to be impregnated is nullified by the vilification of John Connor. The film ends with her ability to choose to be with Reese instead of needing to be with Reese. But perhaps a more interesting, and more feminist, ending would be her choosing to not be with Reese at all.

Emilia Clarke wearing the iconic leather jacket as Sarah Connor in Terminator Genisys — Emilia Clarke wearing the iconic leather jacket as Sarah Connor in *Terminator Genisys*

The problem of Sarah’s character also lies within the casting of Emilia Clarke. While Courtney is a big, hulking man, who looks like he’s been slamming protein shakes in his post-apocalyptic future wasteland home (in T1 children hunt rats for food), Sarah looks as though she’s barely run a mile in preparation for the impending war she’s about to fight. Sure, they arm her with a bunch of guns and she looks really cool. She even looks a bit like Linda Hamilton. But she doesn’t look strong the way Linda Hamilton looked strong in T2. She doesn’t look like she has spent her youth and early adulthood physically training to be a fighter.

What it boils down to is that Courtney was cast in the traditional image of protector, even though the intention of the storyline was to subvert that role and have Sarah be the savior. It didn’t matter that he looks absolutely nothing like Michael Biehn because his perfectly chiseled abs looked great during naked time travel. He can even be hit by a car on the freeway with barely any consequences. In contrast, Biehn’s Reese was cut but lean; he was dirty and on edge. He looked like someone who came from a nuclear wasteland where meals were scarce and the threat of death was constant. He could be injured and killed. Had both actors been cast more appropriately in Genisys, she and Reese could have at least stood side by side as a team of equals ready to fight Cyberdyne via Genisys.

Jai Courtney (left) and Michael Biehn as Kyle Reese respectively

There was potential for this character to be extremely interesting. She could have been a darker, off-beat female heroine. She could have been the result of a human who spent her life training to be a warrior by an emotionless robot. But because the studio chose to play it safe and go for mass appeal and a PG-13 rating, we’re left with a watered-down version of the original character. Sarah Connor’s character was exactly what I was afraid she would end up being: a shallow plot device who is only there to make sure we know what’s happening in the new present and to fret over her impending romance with Reese. She is a shadow of an action hero, saying her lines but never embodying the role.

Liz LaBrocca is a freelance writer and editor living in Northampton, Massachusetts. She’s Co-Editor in Chief of The Soapbox, an online platform for amplifying the voices of female-identifying creators. You can follow her writing, cooking, and very important opinions on Twitter and Instagram.

‘Little Miss Sunshine’: Masculinity’s Losers

As each male character tackles a personal problem which has either implicit or explicit links to normative constructions of successful masculinity, ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ examines the burden of this masculine ideal. So difficult to maintain yet so embedded in the social, cultural, economic, and political conceptualization of “manliness,” men who fail to embody this ideal inevitably become marked out as “losers.”

Written by Sarah Smyth.

When talking to a group of high school students, Arnold Schwarzenegger apparently claimed, “I hate losers. I despise losers.” Multi-Mr. Universe and Mr. Olympia winner, Hollywood mega-star, entrepreneur and Governor, Schwarzenegger dedicates his life to the pursuit of the hyper-masculine ideal and American dream. Wealthy, powerful and incredibly buff, Schwarzenegger embodies the Western conceptualization of a successful man.

The men of the 2007 hit film, Little Miss Sunshine would be, in Schwarzenegger’s eyes, “losers.” Indeed, Michael Arndt, the film’s scriptwriter, claims this troubling quote provided the framework through which he constructed the characters and deconstructed the notion of “loser.” As each male character tackles a personal problem which has either implicit or explicit links to normative constructions of successful masculinity, Little Miss Sunshine examines the burden of this masculine ideal. So difficult to maintain yet so embedded in the social, cultural, economic, and political conceptualization of “manliness,” men who fail to embody this ideal inevitably become marked out as “losers.”

The poster for 'Little Miss Sunshine' — *Little Miss Sunshine*

Little Miss Sunshine tells the story of the Hoover family, which includes the heroin-snorting grandpa, Edwin; the failing motivational speaker father, Richard; the suicidal uncle, Frank; politically mute brother, Dwayne; and stressed mother, Sheryl; as they go on a road trip from Albuquerque to California to support 7-year-old Olive as she competes in a beauty pageant. Along the way, they face many setbacks – some mechanical but many personal – as each character comes to face the primary difficulty in their life.

Before I examine the particular ways in which Little Miss Sunshine deconstructs the image of “failing” or “inadequate” masculinity through the male characters, it is crucial to examine the ways in which this impinges on women. For one, the film most obviously and explicitly highlights and examines the markers of success which are most acutely and destructively felt by women. For another, the metaphor of the beauty pageant which, as I will examine later, comes to define the identification of the “successful” masculine existence, is literalised in the film through Olive’s narrative. Although only seven years old, Olive’s body is subject to the social, cultural and familial surveillance which continues to monitor a woman’s body for the rest of her life, identifying her body as a “success” or “failure.” The opening credits make clear the juxtaposition between Olive’s body and the pageant queen’s body; whereas the pageant queen is “slim,” Olive is “chubby.” Later, after Olive orders ice-cream for breakfast, Richard explains to her that “the fat in the ice-cream will become fat in your body.” Even though Sheryl explains to Olive that “it’s OK to be skinny, and it’s OK to be fat if that’s what you want,” Richard makes clear that in order to be a winner, she must be thin, claiming, “Ok, Olive, but let me ask you this. The women in Miss America: Are they fat or are they skinny?” Despite the rest of the family’s encouragement to not listen to Richard and eat the ice-cream, Olive is visibly shaken by this and later asks her grandpa, “Am I pretty?” She’s upset because, as she says, “Daddy hates losers.”

The film identifies the beauty pageant as "grotesque", and marks Olive's body as "failing" to conform to the beauty standards put forth by the pageant — The film identifies the beauty pageant as “grotesque,” and marks Olive’s body as “failing” to conform to the beauty standards put forth by the pageant

The surveillance of Olive’s body eventually culminates as the family arrive at the beauty pageant. Exaggerated and (arguably) grotesque in fake tan, makeup, big hair and swimsuits, the other pre-pubescent contestants demonstrate the complex way in which we monitor young girls’ bodies. On the one hand, we may identify these bodies as freakish, suggesting our rigid policing of the presentation of the young female body, particularly with reference to sexuality. On the other hand, through Olive, we are also presented with another kind of bodily monitoring which, pitting her body against the other contestants, already marks her out as a unable to fulfill the requirements of being a beauty queen. Anticipating this assertion, Dwayne attempts to protect her by claiming, “I don’t want these people judging Olive.” Not embodying the beauty standards constructed by the pageant – slim, tanned, poised, with big hair and full make up – it’s clear that, within the context of the pageant, Olive’s body is identified as a “failure.”

In some ways, the male characters of the film embody a kind of privilege which makes them exempt from this monitoring and, by extension, marking out as a “failure.” At no point does the male body become subject to the superficial yet extremely destructive bodily surveillance in the film which so rigorously contours the female existence. In fact, the film suggests that male privilege not only makes them exempt from bodily monitoring but actually enables them the authority to construct the ideals through which female bodies are judged. During the ice-cream scene, Edwin tells Olive not to listen to her father because “I like a woman with meat on her bones.” The “success” of the female body, it seems, is still very much monitored by men. However, by presenting the ways in which the “failings” of each of the male character threaten to compromise his socially and culturally constructed masculinity, Little Miss Sunshine demonstrates the way in which his privilege is comprised by other conflicting factors.

Olive already begins to internalize the monitoring of her body

In Slow Motion: Changing Masculinities, Changing Men, Lynne Segal claims, “Dominant ideals of masculinity come from social meanings which distinguish these ideals from what they are not.” Therefore, to be “masculine” is to not be “feminine,” “queer” or racially, ethnically or bodily “inferior.” In Little Miss Sunshine, the male characters attempt to battle various “weaknesses” that may comprise their masculine identity. Edwin attempts to maintain a tough exterior despite his aging body. He claims to “fuck a lot of women” and “still has Nazi bullets in [his] ass.” Yet, he cannot escape the fallibility of his body as a drug overdose eventually leads to his death. Dwayne, also, attempts to harden and toughen his body in preparation for joining the hyper-masculine world of the US Air Force Academy. He continually works out in the film and even takes a vow of silence, suggesting the determinacy of his ambition. However, his body also lets him down as he discovers he’s colorblind, shattering his dream to fly planes. Frank, on the other hand, feels threatened primarily through his academic failings. This is particularly significant because, as a gay man, the narrative could have easily slipped into exploring the “failings” of Frank’s masculinity through his queer identity. After all, as Leo Bersani claims in Is the Rectum a Grave?, phallocentrism aligns women and gay men, particularly through their bodies and the way in which they are penetrated. Therefore, dominant images of masculinity must deny these bodily “weaknesses.” However, rather than attempting to commit suicide due to any queer masculine crisis, Frank tries to kill himself after his academic rival, Larry Fisherman, won a genius award, threatening his position as the number one Proust scholar in the USA. Representing a particular image of masculine competitiveness, Frank fears being considered a “loser.”

The men of 'Little Miss Sunshine' all face being marked as a "loser" — The men of *Little Miss Sunshine* all face being marked as a “loser”

Richard, however, most explicitly reflects the masculine anxiety of being marked out as a “loser.” A motivational speaker and life coach, throughout the film Richard attempts to secure a contract to turn his “Nine Steps to Success” program into a lucrative business. For Richard, winning is paramount. At one point, he tells Olive that luck has nothing to do with winning. Rather, it’s about “willing yourself to win.” In fact, he emphasizes the point of winning so much that he claims that “there’s no point going [to the pageant] unless you think you’re going to win.” Richard’s desire to win or, to put it another way, his fear about being marked as a “loser,” explicitly intersects with Schwarzenegger’s definition of “successful” masculinity. Both Richard’s program and narrative uphold the American Dream. Stating that prosperity, success, and upward social mobility can all be achieved through hard work, the American Dream advocates the kind of success represented by Schwarzenegger; despite not being a born-and-bred American, he is the ultimate self-made man. However, maintaining the Liberal and Neoliberal structures of economy which privileges the economic freedoms of individualism and laissez-faire, the American dream, will always privilege the straight white man.

As Lisa Duggan claims in The Twilight of Equality? Neoliberalism, Cultural Politics, and the Attack on Democracy, “Neoliberalism, a late twentieth-century incarnation of Liberalism, organizes material and political life in terms of race, gender, and sexuality as well as economic class and nationality, or ethnicity and religion.” In this way, Schwarenegger’s definition of the “loser,” a definition which is explicitly embedded in the notion of a “failing” masculinity, refuses to acknowledge the privileges afforded to white, heterosexual, able-bodied, economically privileged and cis-gendered men. In this way, it refuses to acknowledge that hard work does not always turn you into a winner. Despite his many privileges, Richard’s program, ironically, fails. For one, as his potential business partner says, “no one’s heard of you.” For another, Richard’s current economic situation compromises his privilege. The success of the program is paramount to keeping the family financially afloat. Money issues plague the family throughout the film – indeed, the reason they travel to the pageant in their van is because they can’t afford flights – and Richard promises that securing this deal will “start generating some income.” Failing to provide for his family, Richard fails to fulfill the traditional male (and masculine) role of the breadwinner. More crucially, however, Richard demonstrates that the American Dream is not available to everyone. Not everybody, it seems, can be a winner.

Arnold Schwarzenegger: Embodying ideal masculinity a bit too much...? — Arnold Schwarzenegger: Embodying ideal masculinity a bit too much…?

In the end, Dwayne sums up the problems they all face: “Fuck beauty contests. Life’s one long beauty contest: school, college, work… Fuck that.” The emphasis on external appearance – enormous wealth, a slim body, successful career, big house and beautiful partner – ensures that dominant Western, Neoliberal and hyper-masculine ideals are maintained, and anything that may compromise this – what Segal identifies as “inferior”- remains rigidly monitored and surveyed. However, by “failing” to conform to these standards, by saying “fuck the beauty pageants,” and by willing ourselves to lose, we may find a way to resist these ultimately oppressive and destructive ideals.

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Sarah Smyth is a staff writer at Bitch Flicks who recently finished a Master’s Degree in Critical Theory with an emphasis on gender and film at the University of Sussex, UK. Her dissertation examined the abject male body in cinema, particularly focusing on the spatiality of the anus (yes, really). She’s based now in London, UK and you can follow her on Twitter at @sarahsmyth91.

"No man may have me": ‘Red Sonja’ a Feminist Film in Disguise?

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

True confession: 1985’s Red Sonja was my first lesbionic crush as a small child of four. I was in love with this strong Amazonian woman with her long red hair and big ol’ sword. It may be her fault that I wanted my dark brown hair to turn red and that red became my favorite color. I became completely obsessed with movies/TV shows starring women, especially badass babes, and I refused to watch anything that didn’t meet that criteria. As an adult, I’ve gone back to Red Sonja to see if it holds up to a feminist critique, and though it doesn’t always succeed, the film fares shockingly better than most contemporary action films starring women.

Firstly, Red Sonja passes the Bechdel test with flying colors. Though there aren’t many female characters in the film, Red Sonja speaks to most of them or they speak to each other, and they never talk about men. Not only that, but the great task of the film is to destroy the Talisman, an artifact that the “god of the high gods” used to create the earth that has since grown so powerful that it must now be destroyed or risk the destruction of the world itself. The Talisman can only be touched by women. The hierarchy in place dictates that priestesses protect the Talisman, but the High Lord (Kalidor played by Arnold Schwarzenegger) is the one who decides whether or not it is to be destroyed. This hierarchy certainly privileges men over women, but throughout the course of the film, men are repeatedly rendered obsolete (if not completely obliterated) when they encounter the Talisman. Men’s inability to touch the Talisman not only makes them impotent, but it makes women the major players who will determine the fate of the world.

Badass barbarian babes Red Sonja and Queen Gedren go head-to-head over the Talisman

The characterization of Queen Gedren, the villainous lesbian played by Sandahl Bergman, is a bit more complicated. On the one hand, having a main character of a film be a lesbian is a pretty bold move, especially in a film that was made nearly 30 years ago. Gedren is shown to be a powerful, if tyrannical, figure who commands an army of men with ease.

In essence, Queen Gedren is the victim of a hate crime, and Red Sonja is the perpetrator. Gedren expresses her interest in Sonja, wanting them to “rule the world together.” Sonja rebuffs Gedren by slashing her across the face with a mace. The movie takes the side of Red Sonja here, claiming her “disgust was complete.” This somehow justifies the permanent disfigurement of another woman.

Queen Gedren wears a golden mask to conceal the scar left from Red Sonja’s attack

Gedren retaliates by burning Red Sonja’s house to the ground, having her soldiers gang-rape Sonja, and murdering her family. Of course, it’s difficult to feel sympathy for a woman of dubious intentions who shows up with a troop of armed men who end up raping Sonja and wholesale slaughtering her family. Interestingly, the original comic character upon which Queen Gedren is based was a man. The filmmakers deliberately altered the character into not only a woman, but a lesbian. I examined the implications of this exact cinematic choice in the character of Admiral Helena Cain from Battlestar Galactica. In both cases, the rendering of a lesbian as power hungry, brutal, and morally bankrupt indicates a fear of women in power, rendering them paradoxically weak and “womanish” slaves to their emotions as well as overly masculine.

And as usual, the evil lesbian is punished with death

In order to give Red Sonja the vengeance she so craves, a warrior goddess imbues her with mystical powers of strength and skill at weaponry. Though the idea of a female deity choosing a human woman as her champion has some “girl power” qualities, I’m disappointed that Sonja doesn’t earn her fighting prowess the way her male counterpart Conan does. Both characters are the creations of fantasy writer Robert E. Howard, but the cinematic version of Conan spends much of his youth enslaved, growing strong by pushing the Wheel of Pain around in circles before he is intensively trained for the gladiator arena with multiple disciplines of martial arts. The implication is that the only way a woman could be as physically tough and skilled as a man is through magic. However, Red Sonja has also taken a vow. “No man may have me unless he has beaten me in a fair fight,” she says. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Kalidor, of course, feels compelled to challenge that vow. He cannot beat her. They are equally matched and fight until they both collapse in exhaustion. Hoodoo influences aside, the cinematic depiction of male and female leads being equals on the battlefield is rare.

Arnie muscle can’t fight the power of the Kentucky waterfall mullet

Many viewers have complained about the shortage of Arnie scenes in this film, but though he got top billing and is way more prominently featured in the movie poster (above), Kalidor is truly a supporting character. In fact, Kalidor takes a back seat to Red Sonja throughout their journey to Burkubane, the Land of Perpetual Night. He appears periodically throughout their quest, helping as needed, then eventually joining the group before the final showdown. Proof of the supporting nature of his role is in the fact that Arnold Schwarzenegger is never topless throughout this movie. Maybe that seems like a silly observation, but think about how many movies Arnie starred in during the 80’s where he showed his man boobies at some point. The answer is: all or most. The heroine is actually the lead in Red Sonja. She alone can destroy the Talisman. She alone defeats her enemy in single combat and saves the world. How often do you see that happen in a movie?

All in all, Red Sonja was a formative film for me, a girl child of the 80’s. Its representation of the evils of lesbianism is inexcusable, but as a queer woman, I confess that I still love to watch the malevolent, beautiful Queen Gedren in action. It is, perhaps, sad that queer female characters in film and TV are such a rarity that I and so many others will take whatever we can get. Bottom line: The character of Red Sonja is strong, independent, and an expert in a traditionally male area of skill. She cannot be beaten by a man, she calls all the shots, and, in the end, she saves the world. It ain’t perfect, but I feel fortunate that the film was there to help shape my youthful feminist inklings.

If you’re feeling frisky, check out my drinking game, Rye & Red Sonja on my Booze & Baking site.

Rye & Red Sonja

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