Australian Cinema – Bitch Flicks

Women in Film at the Indian Film Festival of Melbourne

The theme at this year’s Indian Film Festival of Melbourne (IFFM) is “women’s empowerment.” If you will be in the Melbourne, Australia area, here are all of the women-directed films and women in film panels you should check out at the 2016 Indian Film Festival of Melbourne, which runs from August 11 through August 21.

The theme at this year’s Indian Film Festival of Melbourne (IFFM) is “women’s empowerment.” In honor of that theme, there will be many narrative, documentary, and short films screening directed by women filmmakers, including Deepa Mehta (Beeba Boys), Leena Yadav (Parched), Rokhsareh Ghaem Maghami (Sonita), and Oscar-winner Sharmaan Obaid-Chinoy (Saving Face).

IFFM is also hosting panels with directors (Leena Yadav), actors (Sara Haider), producers (Sue Maslin, Jenni Tosi), film critics, and more that will discuss how film can spur social change and how sexism impacts women in the film industry. There will be a conversation with Bollywood actress Richa Chadha where she will share her personal experiences and talk about feminism, body positivity, and the “pressures and expectations” women face in the film industry.

If you will be in the Melbourne, Australia area, here are all of the women-directed films and women in film panels you should check out at the 2016 Indian Film Festival of Melbourne, which runs from August 11 through August 21.

Parched
Director: Leena Yadav
August 11, 7:30pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“An exciting contemporary melodrama, Parched is set in an isolated North-Indian village where long-uphold customs are slowly changing.

“The widowed Rani seeks a bride for her young son, adhering to societal norms and expectations surrounding traditional arranged marriage. Rani and her friends, the spirited Lajjo, and exotic dancer Bijli, begin to yearn for more than what life has given them; setting in motion a series of events with the potential to change each women’s circumstances. Vibrant, colorful and sensual, and shot by Titanic cinematographer, Russell Carpenter, Parched presents a sharp portrait of gender inequality, and a stirring portrait of liberation.”

A Journey of a Thousand Miles: Peacekeepers
Directors: Geeta Gandbhir and Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy
August 12, 9pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Shattering stereotypes, Journey of a Thousand Miles: Peacekeepers is a stirring documentary that presents a bold viewpoint of women uniting for a global cause. Directed by two-time Oscar winner, Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy, the film follows a group of Bangladeshi policewomen who join a UN peacekeeping mission to Haiti, and allows us an immersion into the lives of modern Muslim women, who are so often depicted negatively in the media. Journey of a Thousand Miles offers a close-up look at the lives of these breadwinners, mothers, soldiers, and follows them throughout their journey to Haiti, and back again to Dkaha, where they face fresh challenges.”

In Conversation with Richa Chadha: Bollywood & Body Positivity
August 13, 5pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Join bold Bollywood actress, Richa Chadha, for a conversation on her experience in the showbiz industry. Known for her unconventional roles and strong feminist ideals, Richa has been an outspoken advocate for greater equality in Bollywood: and embodies a spirit and strength relevant to upcoming generations of aspiring Bollywood actresses.

“‘Eating disorders are the best kept secret of Bollywood.’

“Richa speaks candidly about her experience as an actress in Bollywood: reflecting on the pressures and expectations directed towards women in the industry.”

Art and Realities: Cinema for Social Change
August 14, 11am | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“What role does cinema play in facilitating social change? What impact can cinema, and screen content, have upon the ideas and behaviours of society?

“Join a panel of decision makers, and filmmakers to discuss cinema’s role in affecting change, and influencing, and impacting upon behavior.

“Panelists include: Gurmeet Sran (Director, The Hidden Truth), Tim Watts (Federal Labour MP), Roshan Bhandary (Program Manager, InTouch), Cynthia Karena (Journalist and Film Critic) and Srijit Mukherji (Director, Rajkahini).”

Wild Women in Cinema
August 14, 12:30pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Busting myths: FEMINISM is not a radical word.

“In the wake of Screen Australia’s ‘Gender Matters’ funding, designed to offer greater funding opportunities to women in the film industry, what does the future hold for women in film? How does the industry need to adapt and change to best exemplify an equality of the sexes?

“Join IFFM for a discussion on the female in the film industry, as women from both sides of the camera discuss opportunities in the Australian and Indian film industries. How does sexism affect women in the industry? How can we combat this, and create a positive change and positive action?

“Hosted by Rajeev Masand (Entertainment Reporter and Film Critic) and with panelists including: Leena Yadav (Director, Parched), Jenni Tosi (CEO, Film Victoria), Sara Haider (Singer and Actress), Michelle Gater (GM of Programming and Content HOYTS Entertainment) and Sue Maslin (Producer, The Dressmaker).”

Sonita
Director: Rokhsareh Ghaem Maghami
August 14, 12:45pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Winner of the Grand Jury Prize (World Cinema – Documentary) and Audience Award at Sundance, Sonita is an exhilarating and memorable film about the eponymous Afghani refugee. Living in Tehran with her sister and niece, the fiery Sonita dreams of becoming a star, but her mother, and the Iranian regime, have other ideas. Provocative and inspiring, Sonita is a lingering film that challenges the definition of what documentary film is or should be.”

Under Construction
Director: Rubaiyat Hossain
August 14, 1:45pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Struggling to find herself in the chaotic sprawl of Bangladesh, Roya is an actress struggling to thrive in an industry preoccupied with age and beauty. Striving for recognition, Roya is axed from her reoccurring role for being too old, and is urged by her husband to retire to a position of motherhood. Afforded an opportunity to leave the confines of her old life, Roya embarks on a journey of identity and freedom. With a strong female cast and powerful feminist message, Under Construction reflects a wave of exciting female content emerging from the subcontinent.”

Waiting
Director: Anu Menon
August 14, 6:30pm | HOYTS Highpoint
August 16, 7pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“A warm and thought-provoking drama, Waiting contemplates life, love and loss… all in the confines of a hospital waiting room. Starring Naseeruddin Shah and Kalki Koechlin as the waiting partners of comatose patients, Waiting is a study of friendship, and individual grief; and allows a contemplation of universal human circumstance.”

Girl in the River: The Price of Forgiveness
Director: Sharmeet Obaid-Chinoy | Academy Award Winner for Best Documentary Short
August 19, 7pm | HOYTS Highpoint
August 21, 2:30pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Winner of the Academy Award for Best Short Documentary, A Girl in the River is an urgent and powerful documentary that examines honour killings in Pakistan.

“Each year, over 1000 girls and women are victims of honour killings; and director Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy explores the simmering tensions between modernity and tradition in modern day Pakistan. The film follows Saba, a young Pakistani woman, and survivor of an attempted-honour kill perpetrated by her family. Saba fights for her life, her personal dignity and for justice, for an entire generation of women.”

Saving Face
Director: Sharmaan Obaid-Chinoy | Academy Award Winner for Best Documentary Short
August 19, 7pm | HOYTS Highpoint
August 21, 2:30pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Sharmaan Obaid-Chinoy won the first Oscar for Pakistan with this powerful, and lingering, documentary about violence against women.

“Shedding light on the brutal, and underreported, crime of acid attacks, most commonly perpetrated against women; Saving Face follows the lives of two women as they fight for justice, and strive to move on with their lives. The film follows London-based Pakistani surgeon, Dr Mohammad Jawad, as he travels back to his home country to offer free reconstructive surgery to those afflicted by acid violence. Focusing on the courage of the victims and the strength of those who help them, Saving Face considers the social issues inherent within Pakistan, and offers some hope for the future.”

Beeba Boys
Director: Deepa Mehta
August 20, 6pm | HOYTS Melbourne Central

“Award-wining director, Deepa Mehta (Midnight’s Children, Elements trilogy), writes and directs this crime thriller that explores the shadowy happenings of the Canadian underworld. Jeet Johar (Randeep Hooda) is a devoted family man, a loving son, a proud and observant Sikh, and, also, a tough gangster who fronts a gang of charismatic, unyielding youth, the Beeba Boys. Based on the true story of notorious crime lord ‘Bindy’ Singh Johal, Beeba Boys is a provocative and exciting thriller that allows us an immersion into a dark and illicit world. With a strong theme of family running throughout the film, Beeba Boys offers an exciting story of violence, discrimination and social issues.”

For the Love of a Man
Director: Rinku Kalsy
August 20, 6:45pm | HOYTS Highpoint

“The madness of South Indian fandom makes for entertaining and compelling viewing in this colorful documentary. Former bus driver, Rajinikanth, now a living legend, is literally worshiped as deity by Tamil Nadu’s impoverished masses. Profiling the lives of fans and their families, the audience is privy to a mimicry and adoration unique to Indian film culture. Jaw-dropping and shocking, For the Love of a Man celebrates the distinctive enthusiasm of Indian cinema fans.”

K2 and the Invisible Footmen
Director: Iara Lee
August 21, 4:30pm | HOYTS Highpoint

“Welcome to K2: the 2nd highest mountain peak in the world. The road to the top is often treacherous and unforgiving, and the conditions wild and unpredictable. Indigenous porters guide the road to the peak, carrying provisions for foreign climbing companies and enduring harrowing conditions. Without proper equipment, the porters support foreign climbers to the peak of the ‘Savage Mountain’, saving the minimal wages to support their families. This cinematic documentary explores the courage and sacrifice of the indigenous porters who guard the sacred peak, and, like Jennifer Peedom’s Sherpa, urges us to consider the lives of the true heroes of the world’s tallest mountains.”

The New Girl in Class
Director: Amrita Dasgupta
August 21, 6pm | HOYTS Highpoint

“A moving and powerful documentary, The New Girl in Class explores the possibility of mainstream education for children with autism. Neeraja is a dedicated and resilient mother, and has struggled for years to enroll her daughter in conventional schooling. Uplifting, personal and challenging; The New Girl in Class immerses us in the challenges and triumphs experienced by mothers around the world.”

Spice Sisters
Director: Sheila Jaydev
August 21, 6pm | HOYTS Highpoint

“Rohini, a former Bollywood star, is bored with her life in suburbia. When a popular reality show announces a call for contestants, she leaps at the opportunity to make a change. Spice Sisters is poignant comedy about family and friendship, and having the courage to make a change.”

Playgrounds
Directors: Shamik Sen Gupta and M.D. Pallavi
August 21, 6pm | HOYTS Highpoint

“After a long shift, a rickshaw driver is shocked to discover a young boy asleep in the back seat of his auto. The two struggle to communicate, but venture on a journey to return the boy to his family. Set across two working-class neighborhoods, Playgrounds examines the harsh realities of India’s urban sprawls.”

Posters and descriptions of films and panels courtesy of Indian Film Festival of Melbourne

“Get Back In Your Kennels, Both of You”: The Bitchy Diversity of ‘The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’

The traditional family is marked as a hostile space of enforced hypocrisy.

This post by Brigit McCone appears as part of our theme week on Depictions of Trans Women.

Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, is a family on wheels. The bright, pink bus that carries three drag queens across the Australian Outback becomes a homely, domestic space, not because of the harmony between the central trio, but because of their acceptance of friction. In their bickering intimacy, the trio model an ideal of accepting surrogate family, all of whose members are allowed to express themselves fully. Bickering and bitchy humour become the symbol of that freedom of self-expression, as much as the trio’s flamboyant, Oscar-winning costumes. There is no toning down to cater to the offended sensibilities of homophobic or transphobic onlookers. Hugo Weaving’s Tic/Mitzi and Terence Stamp’s trans woman Bernadette play the long-suffering parents to Guy Pearce’s abrasive and bratty Adam/Felicia. In the cramped interior of the bus, there is no escape, only a slow journey toward accommodating each other. The fact that there is never a question of romance between the central trio adds to the family vibe of their camaraderie.

The film also openly acknowledges tensions along the transfeminine spectrum. The tension between Felicia and Mitzi’s feminine personas as theatrical performance, and Bernadette’s feminine identity as an integral part of herself, fuels a running feud between Bernadette and Felicia. Bernadette disdains Felicia’s artificiality as “a bloody good little performer, 24 hours a day, seven days a week,” while Felicia torments Bernadette with her “real” name, Ralph, and teases Tic about his marriage to a woman. In their sexuality and gender expression, the group defies easy categorization and perhaps this is the point. To define is to limit. Each of the trio is a work in progress. While tensions between transfemininity as authentic self-realization and as artificial performance simmer between Bernadette and Felicia, Felicia’s own dualities are neatly summed up by Tic: “There are two things I don’t like about you, Felicia: your face.” This conflict is never neatly resolved with an easy moral, but instead accommodated within the broader philosophy of bitchy diversity and tolerated friction that makes the surrogate family work. In the role of Bernadette, meanwhile, Terence Stamp inaugurated the dubious tradition of big name, cismasculine stars playing trans women as a novelty, a demonstration of acting prowess and a marketing gimmick. Stamp’s performance, however, surely ranks among the finest in this genre: restrained, sensitive and toughened at the same time, with an innate dignity and waspish wit that plays well off Bernadette’s more theatrical companions. Casting a cismasculine performer suits the role of Bernadette particularly, since her difficulty in passing as visually female is a part of her character’s ongoing struggle to be recognized for her authentic self.

The contrast between the Paradise of wish fulfillment and infinite self-realization, represented by the flamboyantly decorated bus and the flamboyantly decorated bodies of its occupants, and the harsh desert landscape with its equally harsh standards of small-town conformity and heteronormativity, is the central conflict of the film. Invited to perform for four weeks in Alice Springs, in the middle of the conservative Outback, Tic finds himself returning to face the wife and son he abandoned. Bernadette, by contrast, is fleeing the tragedy of her lover Trumpet’s death. The manner of his death, asphyxiating on his home peroxide, walks the tight-rope between farce and tragedy that the film so excels at. The bittersweet, clashing tone is established by Hugo Weaving’s opening performance, in full drag: “You’re a discontented mother and a regimented wife… I’ve been to Paradise, but I’ve never been to me.” Butch customers play pool and ignore the performance, while Weaving’s drag alter-ego Mitzi gets a can to the back of the head as she walks offstage. Dressed as brightly throughout as birds of paradise, the friction between Paradise and reality is ever present. The trio stifle in the narrow confines of their wheeled refuge, but the outside is a space of danger. As a forfeit in a game of Snap, Mitzi and Felicia wear full multi-colored drag in rural Australia – being hassled in bars by transphobic patrons is a reminder that the element of daring is never far away from unrestrained self-expression. The trio wake to find their bus spray-painted with the slogan “AIDS fuckers go home!” with Tic admitting that “it’s funny you know. No matter how tough I think I’m getting, it still hurts.”

Transfemininity is a protective badge of defiance and toughness, while its wish fulfillment is as hard-earned in a hostile world as Adam’s dream of climbing the hostile terrain of Australia’s King’s Canyon in full drag. As Adam/Felicia is held down and threatened with violence by a transphobic/homophobic crowd, she breaks down in tears and is told by Bernadette to “let it toughen you up.” Her fellow queens have rescued her when she needed it most, showing the caring and solidarity that underpins their bitchy surfaces. The queens will fulfill their dream to conquer King’s Canyon, ceremonially owning the Outback both by this feat of endurance, and by a flamboyant reinterpretation of Outback nature as drag costumes in their Alice Springs performance. The film itself can be read as a similarly flamboyant reimagining of the traditionally macho genre of the road movie, playfully proposing drag as the ultimate journey to self-realization. Breaking down in the desert and practising their drag performance, they are invited to join an Aboriginal Corroboree. Performing a full drag act for the Aborigines, the possibility of an intersectional solidarity between different categories of outsiders and marginalized minorities is suggested, with the didgeridoo accompanying “I will survive.”

The nuclear family is a space of tension and enforced performance for each of the trio. Adam’s abusive uncle tries to swear him to secrecy, while his mother helps him to get the bus Priscilla in the hopes that a trip to the Outback will help him to overcome the “phase” of his gayness and meet a nice country woman. Bernadette is denied the dolls she really wants by parents who insist that she play with traditionally masculine cement mixers, rejecting her and never speaking to her again after she has “the chop.” The traditional family is marked as a hostile space of enforced hypocrisy. Having internalized this vision of nuclear family, Tic cannot reconcile the flamboyance of alter-ego Mitzi with his own narrow ideas about the butch role of husband and father: “Do you think an old queen’s capable of raising a child?” The bus Priscilla’s bitchy diversity serves as a more authentic space of family, because freedom of expression is its watchword. The outside world’s appearance of tradition and conventionality can be deceptive however, covering hidden depths of flexibility and souls who are “starved for entertainment,” like the rural rescuer-mechanic Bob who loves the transfeminine “Le Girls” revue and whose acceptance of unconventional femininity is modelled in his relationship to his Asian “mail-order bride,” Cynthia, as well as his trans-attraction. Cynthia is perhaps the broadest caricature in the film, an exotic dancer who speaks in broken English, and makes “a complete fool of herself” with her compulsive exhibitionism. Bob’s gentlemanly urge to shelter and protect her, however misguided, cannot be separated from his chivalrous urge to protect Bernadette in the pair’s tentatively blossoming romance. The film has no time for respectability politics. Acceptance must be universal, even for the broadest stereotype or most confrontational caricature, otherwise it is worthless. That is the credo of bitchy diversity.

As Tic faints after being watched by his son performing in wild drag as Mitzi, he is told by his bracingly no-nonsense estranged wife that “assumption is the mother of all fuck ups. Don’t bitch to me, bitch to him.” The nuclear family is thus proposed as a potential space of bitchy diversity, where Tic could bitch freely to his son and become a positive role model through the very fact of his freedom. His son accepts his father fully, warmly applauding his drag performance and asking if he has a boyfriend at the moment, while matter-of-factly announcing that his mother used to have a girlfriend. After owning the Outback and reimagining the traditional family, the queens go home, no longer cowering in the city as a defence against the country, but positively choosing it as a homeland of their own, just as Bernadette positively chooses Bob as a home for her heart. The road movie comes to a jubilant all-singing, all-dancing climax to the strains of ABBA’s “Mamma Mia.”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAshNAfOHTg”]

Brigit McCone wants to roam the Australian Outback in a dilapidated bus. She writes and directs short films and radio dramas.

‘Rabbit-Proof Fence’: Racism, Kidnapping, and Forced Education Down Under

‘Rabbit-Proof Fence’ (2002), directed by Phillip Noyce, is a powerful and assertive film version of this tragedy. Based on three real-life indigenous survivors of this era, known collectively as the Stolen Generation, the film is set in 1931 and tells the story of three young girls who were kidnapped on the government’s authority, forced into an “aboriginal integration” program 1,200 miles from home, and who are determined to run away and make it home on their own by following the fence. Unfortunately, the school’s director hunts them with the veracity of an early 1800s US slavemaster. He is relentless and determined, but the girls are as well.

In the United States, there were Indian Boarding Schools that coerced and invited Native American parents to release their children into the system that would transform them into good little American citizens with such useful vocations as domestic and farm labor. Sometimes, school officials resorted to kidnapping when parents obstinately refused to hand over their children. From the government’s and schools’ perspectives, this was a tremendously good deal for those pesky Indigenous creatures, but for the Native children who suffered and survived the experience, it was anything but beneficial in many circumstances. Across the ocean, in Australia, the government and like-minded citizens did much the same thing to their aboriginal population from 1869 through 1970.

Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002), directed by Phillip Noyce, is a powerful and assertive film version of this tragedy. Based on three real-life indigenous survivors of this era, known collectively as the Stolen Generation, the film is set in 1931 and tells the story of three young girls who were kidnapped on the government’s authority, forced into an “aboriginal integration” program 1,200 miles from home, and who are determined to run away and make it home on their own by following the fence. Unfortunately, the school’s director hunts them with the veracity of an early 1800s US slavemaster. He is relentless and determined, but the girls are as well.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lbnk8wSVMaM&feature=kp”]

The film opens with a narrative voiceover in Aboriginal language by the real Molly Craig, describing what she sees from her perspective in the future: “This is a true story. Story of me, my sister Daisy and my cousin Gracie when we were little. Our people, the Jigalong mob, we were desert people then…walking all over our land. My mum told me about how the white people came to our country. They made a storehouse here at Jigalong…brought clothes and other things: flour, tobacco, tea. Gave them to us on ration day. We came there, made a camp nearby. They were building a long fence.”

The girls peer out the back window as the soldier drives them away from their family.

The voiceover accompanies cinematic views of the desert landscape, bright sun, open land, and sky. These opening two minutes set the stage, the scene, and the perspective of the film. It is clearly the director’s intention for viewers to see this moment in history from the Indigenous peoples’ perspective and to understand that this type of thing really did happen. For anyone who dislikes boldly polemical films, this approach might be a turn-off, but I encourage you to stick with it. The story itself is moving and well-acted by all players. You will end up hating Neville, the government official granted guardianship of all Aboriginal peoples by the Aborigines Act, played by Kenneth Branagh, and you will root for the girls to succeed in their quest to return home. The villain in this film, and in reality, is the government and its racist policies.

Kenneth Branagh as Neville (on right), with David Gulpilil as Moodoo (on left)

Molly Craig (Everlyn Sampi), Daisy Craig Kadibill (Tianna Sansbury), and Gracie Fields (Laura Monaghan), are considered by the government to be “half-castes,” because they have white fathers. In the opening scene where the girls and their female elders are hunting iguana, the idyllic family scene is overshadowed by the presence of a white soldier and a white tracker, who identify the girls and ride past their outback home. The viewer is meant to feel the discomfort of being watched and cataloged. The scene then shifts to a neat, wooden-cabinet-lined government office where Neville calmly and dispassionately writes out the kidnap orders for Molly, Gracie, and Daisy.

With a bold stamp on the papers, Neville explains to his secretary these new orders:

“Now this report from Constable Riggs about the three little half-caste girls at the Jigalong. . .Molly, Gracie, and Daisy, the youngest is of particular concern, she’s been promised to a full-blood. I’m authorizing their removal. They’re to be taken to Moore River as soon as possible.”

And just like that, three girls’ lives are changed in abominable ways. Constable Riggs (Jason Clarke) arrives on ration day and chases the panicked and running girls with their mother with a car, threatening to lock the mother up if the girls don’t come with him. He forcefully pulls the fighting girls away from their screaming mother and pushes them into the back seat of his car. The girls and mother wail and scream as the solder drives the car away, leaving the older women moaning on the desert land. Affecting doesn’t begin to describe this scene, especially for any woman who is a mother. Just imagine your government coming after your child in this manner.

The white soldier kidnaps Molly, Gracie, and Daisy, on official orders from Neville,
the Chief Protector of Aborigines.

Immediately following this scene, Neville is once again in a well-appointed room, showing photos to a group of white women who support the efforts of government-run Aboriginal integration schools such as Moore River, and explaining the rationale for the government’s racist policy of forced removal and education:

“As you know, every Aborigine born in this state comes under my control. Notice, if you will, the half-caste child. and there are ever-increasing numbers of them. Now, what is to happen to them? Are we to allow the creation of an unwanted third race? Should the coloreds be encouraged to go back to the black? Or should they be advanced to white status and be absorbed in the white population? Now time and again, I’m asked by some white men, if I marry this colored person, will our children be black? And as chief protector of Aborigines, it is my responsibility to accept or reject these marriages.” At this point in his speech, Neville changes the slide to an image of two women and a young boy before continuing.

Neville (Kenneth Branagh) explains how the Native is bred out.

“Here is the answer. Three generations. Half-blood grandmother, quadroon daughter, octoroon grandson. Now as you can see in the third generation, or third cross, no trace of Native origin is apparent. The continuing infiltration of white blood finally stamps out the black color. The Aboriginal has simply been bred out.. . .In spite of himself, the Native must be helped.”

Therein lies the reasoning behind Aboriginal integration in Australia.

At the Moore River school, where the girls are sent by Neville, the goals are integration into white society as domestic workers and farm laborers, removal of all Aboriginal language and culture from the children, and physical abuse to reinforce these goals.

Molly, Daisy, and Gracie experience their first morning at
the Moore River Native Settlement.

After the girls are fed and washed, they are given clothes. Gracie says to Molly in their own language, “New clothes!” The white female teacher leans down and says, “This is your new home. We don’t use that jabber here. You speak English.”

Downloadable clip from Australian Screen: Neville inspects Molly at Moore River.

After seeing a girl returned and punished for trying to escape, Molly lays awake at night thinking about how these people make her sick, and then she dreams of the spirit bird that her mother told her would always guide her. The next day, while everyone is at church, Molly watches from the dormitory doorway as a thunderstorm growls on the horizon. In this moment, she makes a decision. She turns back to Gracie and Daisy, who are on the bed, and says, “Come on. Get your things. We’re going.”

Gracie asks, “Where we going?”

Molly responds, “We’re going home, to mother.”

Daisy looks down at her lap and then looks up to Molly. “How we gonna get there?”

Molly ties up her small bag and says, “Walk.”

Gracie is skeptical and Daisy fears that the tracker, Moodoo, will catch them. But Molly is an experienced hunter at 14 years old and knows that the rain will cover their tracks. This is the moment.

Their absence is not discovered until bed check that night and the hunt is on.

After escaping Moore River Settlement, the girls try to make it home by following the fence
that bisects the continent to keep the rabbits on one side and farms on the other.

One of the most refreshing surprises in this story is the kindness the girls receive from both Aboriginal and white strangers whom they encounter along the way. The food and guidance they receive assists Molly’s considerable survival skills as the girls make their way North to an unknown conclusion, especially as they enter the most unforgiving and dangerous terrain of the desert. This is compelling cinema for anyone with a sympathetic heart and a mind inclined toward justice.

Rabbit-Proof Fence is available to stream on Netflix, Amazon, and Google Play. This film would make an excellent addition to any curriculum or class dealing with racism, government oppression, global history, indigenous peoples, family bonds, or individual powerlessness in the face of centralized power. Government oppression of indigenous peoples has been going on as long as there have been powerful central governments that want to control people, and this is worthy of acknowledgment and study because it continues today. One way to break down acceptance of such offensive and damaging control practices by governments is to watch films like Rabbit-Proof Fence, or read stories by the real people who survived such oppression, and widen our view of the world; see racism and other nefarious governmental practices for what they are and then perhaps speak out against those practices, possibly by sharing such stories with others. The more the average citizen truly knows and understands, the less likely she is to just blindly accept what the government claims is good for her. And isn’t that one of the more noble and beneficial goals of education?

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Dr. Amanda Morris is an Assistant Professor of Multiethnic Rhetorics at Kutztown University of Pennsylvania with a specialty in Indigenous Rhetorics.

She’s Too Old: Sexuality and the Threat of Aging in ‘Adore’

Adore film poster.

Written by Erin Tatum.

The original title of Adore was Two Mothers, which should give some indication of its Freudian undertones. Best friends since childhood, Lil (Naomi Watts) and Roz (Robin Wright) remain close throughout their lives. They have sons the same age: Roz has Tom (James Frecheville) and Lil has Ian (Xavier Samuel). We see Lil’s husband pass away when the boys look to be about 10, the exposition also establishing the friendship between the kids. The boys soon grow into handsome, muscular young men. Roz’s husband Harold already accuses her of being emotionally distant in their relationship and implies she and Lil are secretly lovers. Multiple people assume that Roz and Lil are lesbians throughout the film, much to their amusement. Ambiguous lesbianism is arguably the only running joke. The fact that Roz and Lil look almost identical (minus hair length) and are constantly perceived as having romantic tension makes the ensuing pseudo-incest even creepier.

Lil (left) and Roz (right) raise their sons together.

Adore is about wanting what you can’t have and the resulting guilty titillation when you not only get what you want, but seemingly have total control over the situation. You could see the whole cougar betrayal thing coming a mile away, as soon as the two mothers talk about how collectively hot their sons are immediately after the age up transition. I would hope that my parents and my friends’ parents wouldn’t sit around calling us sexy the second we were legal. The social dynamics of the film are a bit off – are we really supposed to believe that two 18-year-old boys spend their entire day drinking on the beach with their moms? – but it’s that sort of isolation that sets up the forbidden fruit paradigm. Cross-generational lust is most exciting when there’s sexual or emotional deprivation going on, because apparently the only way we can fathom desire across a large age gap is to make one or both partners psychologically deprived.

Roz and Lil admire their genetic handiwork.

Lil’s husband is dead and Roz’s husband conveniently just accepted a new job far away, so the two women are ripe to…pick the fruit of each other’s loins. Yikes. Yes, they both sleep with the other’s son. If “Motherlover” didn’t pop into your head at this point, my review is a failure. I’d be more okay with this development if the two boys hadn’t grown up as next-door neighbors. Maybe Roz and Lil could have reunited for the first time since having kids and each is blown away by their attraction to the other’s child. I’m cool with a lot of weird shit, but you fundamentally shouldn’t have sex with someone you’ve known and cared for as a parental figure since they were in diapers. This isn’t Buster Bluth and Lucille 2. Ian makes a move on Roz for pretty much no reason. The justification for both May-December romances is essentially that it’s scandalous to watch a young man pursue an older woman, which insinuates that they’re tragically wasting their time and potential for masculine privilege by doing so. That has some extremely unfortunate implications as to the perceptions of older femininity, which is why I could never quite get on the cougar bandwagon here, even though the film tries really hard to convince its audience that older women are seductive and love is indiscriminate to age.

Things get steamy between Lil and Tom.

Shockingly, Tom witnesses his mother leaving Ian’s room sans pants and marches right over to Lil’s house to exact revenge. He awkwardly kisses Lil and tells her flat out that he’s doing it just to spite Ian and his mom for sleeping together. Tom is kind of a tool, but Lil eventually gives in after he silently climbs into her bed (boundaries???). Roz and Lil and have a heart-to-heart the next day. They are both surprisingly okay with having boned each other’s children, but they agree that the shenanigans need to stop. Naturally, both couples immediately have sex. They settle into dating and continue to hang out in their creepy foursome, their friendships strengthened by the new exchange of bodily fluids. The narrative then jumps forward two years to let us know that both couples are still together and it wasn’t just a summer fling.

Ian comforts Roz about her aging anxieties.

Although you would think that the length of their relationships would be a testament against shallow fears, the threat of aging continues to plague Lil and Roz. Lil frets over her wrinkles in the mirror as she notices Tom’s attention straying towards a young theater ingénue. Ian sensuously traces his fingers up the back of Roz’s bare thigh as she remarks with chagrin that soon she won’t allow him to see her naked anymore. Ian assures her playfully that he won’t let her age. This type of garbage is supposed to be romantic, but I say fuck you, Ian. Validating your partner’s internalized insecurities, no matter how humorously, is not endearing or sexy. People always worry that their partner will leave them if they get old or gain weight or become disabled. Is your “true love” really that genuine if it could so easily be decimated by such superficial factors? As much as Adore attempts to champion the cougar, Roz and Lil walk a very fine line between empowered women with a healthy libido and self-martyrs consumed by their own overambitious sexuality. Tom cheats on Lil with the theater girl. That’s pretty ballsy, considering that Tom had to convince Lil to be bored/lonely enough to date him in the first place. Tom is a dick.

Roz comforts a distraught Lil after Tom cheats.

Lil is devastated, so in solidarity, Roz agrees that they should each dump their boyfriends at the same time since they agree it’s inevitable that they will both be ditched for a younger woman. Ian bitterly protests this decision because Tom fucking around is not his fault. I feel for him. Ian displayed a sincere passion for Roz from the start and remained committed to her, whereas with Tom, Lil was always merely a lukewarm personal pet project to piss off Roz and Ian. Tom gets married and Roz remains firm on her break up with Ian. Ian soon begins a fairly unenthusiastic courtship with a younger woman to spite Roz and try to move on. I’m glad everyone has such healthy coping mechanisms when it comes to relationships! Ian resolves to break up with the new girl until she tells him that she’s pregnant. Cringe.

Roz and Lil take their granddaughters to the beach.

A few years later, the boys each take their young daughters to the beach along with their respective wives and mothers. I half expected a flash forward to when the girls were legal and trying to seduce each other’s dads. Family fun. The dynamic is uncomfortable to say the least and the wives clearly dislike spending time with Roz and Lil. Long story short, Ian catches Tom and Lil having sex and is so outraged that he blurts out their entire history to the horrified younger women. Disgusted, they pack up the grandkids and leave, warning the group to never contact them again. I don’t think that’s how custody works. Roz and Lil decide they can’t fight fate and the foursome is shown sunbathing together once more, presumably coupled up again. Even if they had to jump through some stereotypical hoops, it’s nice to see relationships between older women and younger men taken seriously and given a legitimate future.

‘The Sapphires’ and Solidarity Between People of Color

The Sapphires (2012)

This is a guest post written by Jaya Bedi.

I predict that this is going to be a very popular film.

Well, it already is a popular film — in Australia. But I can already tell that its about to become a classic with me and my friends — up there with Mean Girls, Pride and Prejudice, and Bend it Like Beckham — and its only a matter of time before the rest of North America discovers what a gem this movie is. The fact that Bridesmaids actor Chris O’Dowd is one of the stars is only going to make it more popular, as is the fact that it passes the Bechdel Test with flying colors. But what’s really interesting about this film is its treatment of race and cultural identity.

The Sapphires is about a group of four young Aboriginal women in 1968, who receive a career-making opportunity: travel to Vietnam and sing for the American troops fighting the war. We follow our heroines from their obscure beginnings, through their “discovery,” their rising fame, and the triumphant return home, and we meet a slew of predictable characters along the way. Make no mistake; this is not a film that breaks the rules of the music biopic genre. But what this film lacks in originality, it makes up with heart. The director never loses his compassion for the outlandish personalities he’s dealing with. We develop a deep appreciation for Cynthia, the hilarious sister with no personal boundaries; Gail, the overbearing mama bear of the group, and Dave, the hapless alcoholic manager/keyboardist, with whom we can’t help but fall in love.

While The Sapphires has the feel of a rollicking adventure, the film deals with some very serious issues, and does so with tact and grace. The film does not shy away from showing the blatant discrimination that the girls face because of the color of their skin — this is made clear at the beginning of the film, following Cynthia and Gail’s disastrous performance at an all-white country club. The film takes a firm stance on internalized racism as well — we see the shame that Kay feels at being associated with her black cousins, and her attempts to pass for white. But this isn’t so much a polemic about the prejudice and discrimination that Aboriginal Australians face as it is a coming-of-age tale, for Kay especially. Kay goes from feeling helpless in her despair at their situation, to feeling empowered by her identity as a woman of color; she learns to love being who she is, despite the hardships that being black entails.

When the girls arrive in Saigon, they are immediately enraptured by the American men they see everywhere. Cynthia falls in love with an audience member immediately, and Kay develops a gigantic crush on a handsome soldier she meets at the hotel. What made me sit up and pay attention was the fact that not a single man the girls show interest in is white. From the second they get there, they are immersed in black American culture (they are, after all, singing soul music), and they have no desire to leave and fraternize with any of their white counterparts. This isn’t because they are barred from mingling with white soldiers by rule or custom — they don’t do it because they don’t want to do it. They specifically seek out black men as romantic partners because they feel a kinship to them. It was refreshing to see men of color depicted as genuinely romantically desirable, without the gross fetishization that usually occurs when black men and sex are involved.

In Australia, Aboriginals are considered to be “black.”

The girls feel connected to the black American soldiers whom they meet, because in Australia, Aboriginals are also considered to be “black.” To be black is to be hated, feared, and shunned — as it is all over the world. No wonder that their struggles as marginalized people in their own land would resonate so strongly with black soldiers, who faced similar discrimination back home. The story is a microcosm of the greater alliances that were being built between Australian Aboriginals and black Americans at the time. Black American soldiers on shore leave from the Vietnam War often spent time in Australia, and, fed up with the racist treatment they received from white Australians, would gravitate to the black neighborhoods, where they would share the latest in black American music and political ideas. Inspired by black American thinkers, Aboriginal activists launched a domestic Black Power movement in Australia, with the intention of reclaiming the pejorative implications of the word “black,” to turning it into something to be proud of, and to fighting for more self-governance and an end to racial discrimination within Australia.

If I had one critique of the film — I wish we had seen a little more from the black men whom Cynthia and Kay date. I wish we could have seen their conversations. I wish as much attention was paid to Kay’s relationship with her boyfriend as was to Dave and Gail, who strike up a peculiar friendship. I wish we could have seen more of Kay’s transformation from self-hating white-identifier to being an Aboriginal woman with a strong sense of self, a proud woman of the Yorta Yorta clan. The change seemed rather sudden, not at all justified by the narrative. Kay’s boyfriend felt more like a foil for Kay’s character rather than an actual character in his own right, which is problematic when one of the things that helps Kay discover her identity is her relationship to a black American man, and to black American culture.

This is a story about American empire, in a way. After all, it takes place on the periphery of the Vietnam War, which was fought in order to strengthen the influence of the American empire on Southeast Asia. It’s a story in which representatives of two racist nation-states meet and exchange ideas — but in an ironic twist, the actors happen to be racially marginalized minorities. Instead of reinforcing the racist hegemony, these people of color resist by sharing ideas of self-love. And amid all the larger questions and issues that this film brings up — it is also an intensely human story, one of family ties and reconciliation, of falling in love, and remembering who you are. For these reasons, The Sapphires is ultimately successful.

Jaya Bedi is a twenty-four year old blogger living in Connecticut. She likes to write about race, politics, and television. You can follow her on twitter at @anedumacation.

Foreign Film Week: Realistic Depictions of Women and Female Friendship in ‘Muriel’s Wedding’

Guest post written by Libby White.

The first time I saw Muriel’s Wedding, I went in expecting a Cinderella-esque romantic comedy about an awkward girl who transforms her life into one filled with success and romance. I was definitely ready to indulge in your standard ‘feel-good chick-flick.’ Two hours later, as I sat surrounded by a pile of tissues, having cried myself into a near comatose state, I realized that Muriel’s Wedding has one of the most deceptive posters ever.

The film starts at a wedding in the small Australian town of Porpoise Spit, where we are introduced to the film’s titular character, Muriel Heslop. The wedding day is filled with disasters for Muriel: She catches the bridal bouquet and is forced to give it to another woman; she discovers the groom and the bride’s best friend fooling around; and is accused of having stolen from a local store.

As Muriel is carted home by the police, we see a glimpse of her highly dysfunctional family life. Ruled over by their tyrannical politician father, the Heslop children are a collection of deadbeats and slackers. Muriel herself hasn’t worked in over two years, and continues to live out of her childhood bedroom. Their mother, Betty Heslop, is little more than a slave to the family’s whims, and has visibly checked out from her surroundings. Attempts to communicate with her take several tries, and her brief moments of pleasure are quickly squashed by her husband.

It soon becomes apparent that Muriel’s thieving is a common occurrence, as her father handles the police with relative ease, and is able to use his power to keep them from pressing charges. Muriel waits calmly in her room as he dances the familiar steps with the officers, only to be verbally attacked in front of her father’s business guests and family later that evening. Bill Heslop seems to have no trouble belittling his family publicly, calling each of them “useless” repeatedly before being interrupted by a “surprise” visit from his obvious mistress, (an event which occurs with alarming frequency.) The night only gets worse from there, as Muriel’s so called “friends” accidentally let slip that they were going on holiday without her. The situation snowballs, leading the four women to kick Muriel out of their group.

Under the guise of travelling for a job, Muriel follows the women to an island resort, still believing that she can convince them to take her back. There, Muriel runs into an old high school classmate, Rhonda. The two women spend the rest of the vacation together, and instantly become best friends. They dance to ABBA together, they move to Sydney together, and generally bring out the best in one another. Rhonda’s support and independence also help Muriel to break out of her shell and begin living life the way she has always dreamt it. Eventually, Muriel finds herself a job at a local video store, and is asked out by a shy customer. The two date briefly, and share one of the movie’s most unforgettable and hilarious scenes when they attempt to be intimate.

Unfortunately, the good times don’t last, and Muriel is dealt a series of harsh blows by reality. With Rhonda becoming paralyzed from a spinal tumor, and Muriel’s lies becoming exposed; Muriel’s dream life begins to unravel. In a desperate attempt to break her father’s hold on her and live her dream, Muriel agrees to marry an attractive South African athlete. The man, David Van Arkle, let’s his displeasure about the arrangement be well-known, but needs to marry in order to stay in the country. When their wedding day rolls around, David looks as if he’s going to be sick. Muriel is completely oblivious however, basking in the attention of the media and her former friends. So oblivious in fact, that Muriel completely leaves out her mother from the event. In a tear-inducing scene, Betty rushes to the wedding, glowing with pride, only to have Muriel walk right past her without noticing. Still holding her daughter’s wedding gift in hand, Betty can’t help but cry as the guests dissipate.

When Muriel arrives at her new home with her husband, the fantasy of the day fades, and David accuses her of being nothing more than a gold digger. He divides their lives in half, and sends Muriel to her room alone. Soon after, Muriel receives a call from her sister, informing her that their mother has died.

Rushing home for the funeral, the house is just as Muriel left it. Her siblings laze about the living room; their father calculating the effect of Betty’s death on his political campaign. One sister is truly upset though, and confides in Muriel that their mother died of an overdose of sleeping pills. Their father, fearing his image, hid all evidence of her suicide. It is then that Muriel discovers what occurred on her wedding day, and realizes how her lies had helped to destroy her mother.

David appears at the funeral, sympathetic to his wife’s pain. The two return home together and make love, only to have Muriel ask for a divorce in the morning. She admits that her life has become a lie, and that she never felt anything for David. He agrees, and the two part ways.

In the last scene of the film, Muriel returns to Porpoise Spit, where Rhonda has had to return to her mother’s care. Forced to endure the pity of her former enemies, Muriel’s apology is readily accepted, and the two escape back to Sydney together.

And though I may have gone in expecting Hollywood’s attempt at pigeon-holing Muriel’s Wedding as a rom-com, I still came out loving this film. It takes a brutally honest look at the ripple effect of emotional abuse throughout a family, and delivers all too real characters who you can’t help but become emotionally invested in. The women of the film in particular are wonderfully refreshing, led by the endearing Toni Collette. Her portrayal of Muriel is definitely an unforgettable one. Whether it be her natural, un- glamourized looks and figure, or her very human flaws, the character of Muriel feels intensely genuine. While Hollywood films often use clumsiness to disguise the unachievable-ness of its movie’s heroines, Muriel’s Wedding instead prefers to tell it like it is. Everyone’s choices lead to consequences, and the end of the film does not mean the end to their problems.

The Muriel we are presented with in the beginning of the film; a girl who is desperate for attention, mildly delusional, and devoid of self-respect; is almost meant to be underestimated. We are shown all her worst qualities in a matter of minutes, and lead to pity her circumstances. As the movie progresses and Muriel grows, she becomes more outgoing and self-sufficient, but her lies remain. When her father threatens her new lifestyle, Muriel initially responds by entreating further into her fantasies, only to have them come crashing down upon her. Once she confesses to David and finally begins to admit the truth, we come to realize just how much Muriel has grown. Now confident and self-aware, she is able to stand up to her father’s demands and fearlessly return to her old life.

The friendship between Muriel and Rhonda is one filled with ups and downs, but is still the most genuine relationship in the film. While Rhonda becomes repeatedly frustrated with Muriel’s lies, the two are ultimately accepting of one another, and deeply loyal. Rhonda herself is a free spirit who speaks her mind and does as she pleases. She gleefully stands up to Muriel’s friends, and later takes home two men at once. Even when she receives her diagnosis, Rhonda remains determined to be independent. While she is eventually forced back into her mother’s home, she doesn’t stay long; returning to Sydney with Muriel in a matter of weeks. Rhonda’s fearless embrace of her life and choices, compared with Muriel’s sweetness and hope, make the two a perfectly balanced pair.

However, the women Muriel call her friends are the more stereotypical “mean girls.” They are portrayed as vapid, conniving, promiscuous, and cruel. Even after repeated physical and verbal attacks, Muriel invites them to be bridesmaids at her wedding, if only to show off her success at finding a famous and handsome husband. But even by the film’s end, their stunted growth remains, leaving them as flattened villains.

Muriel’s mother, Betty, is the true reason that this film breaks my heart. Having witnessed a near identical situation in my grandmother’s life, the inclusion of her storyline is especially meaningful. At no point does the director show her any kindness; from her husband’s blatant affair, her children’s indolence, being accused of shoplifting, to Muriel’s own snubbing of her; Betty endured a terrible existence. Spoiled by the happy endings of American cinema, I had internally begged for a magical fix to her suffering; some kind of ‘hallelujah’ moment where we were assured everything would be alright.

When Betty eventually suffers an emotional break down and commits suicide, it is only Muriel and her sister who show any concern whatsoever. The other siblings are completely unaffected; the youngest girl gossiping on the phone with her friends the morning after her mother’s death. Bill Heslop, who selfishly tries to cover up his wife’s cause of death and his part in causing it, uses the sympathy of the press to further his career.

Betty’s story is one that never allows the viewer any release. Instead, it speaks of a harsh reality where there is no sudden intervention of fate, moments of enlightenment, or redeemable villains. We never get to see Bill Heslop punished for his cruelty, or Betty rewarded for her love for her children. And it is because of such that I think Betty Heslop is a fantastic female character. While she may not be the empowered woman who takes back her life from an abusive husband, she is a real woman, with real emotions, and a painfully real situation.

In the end, whether you’re interested in a good laugh, cry, or simply want to watch wonderful film, I highly recommend Muriel’s Wedding to you. Its realistic portrayal of women and their emotional experiences make it a gem in anyone’s collection.

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Libby White is a self-proclaimed cinephile and Volunteer Firefighter who currently works as an Armed Guard for Nissan’s headquarters in Tennessee.