Bitch – Bitch Flicks

Why This Bitch Loves the B—

I avoided ‘Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23’ for quite a while; at a cursory Netflix glance it looked like anti-feminist tripe featuring catty women pitted against each other in a false dichotomy of “nice” and “bitch.” Then I watched it.

I could not have been more wrong.

This cross-post by Mychael Blinde previously appeared at her blog Vagina Dentwata and appears as part of our theme week on Female Friendship.

I avoided Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 for quite a while; at a cursory Netflix glance it looked like anti-feminist tripe featuring catty women pitted against each other in a false dichotomy of “nice” and “bitch.” Then I watched it.

I could not have been more wrong.

There are two points I want to make in this piece:

Don’t Trust the B— showcases a twisted yet surprisingly heartwarming female friendship that is fundamentally predicated on respect, and this mutual respect leads to personal growth for both women.
I endorse the use of the bowdlerized “B—” in the show’s title as well as the word “bitch” in the show, and I even think that the use of the word “bitch” in the context of this show has the potential to have a positive impact on women’s lives.

"Oh brave new world!" — “Oh brave new world!”

Viewers are introduced to the series via June, an intelligent and optimistic Midwestern gal who moves to New York for an exciting new position at a big financial firm, only to discover that the firm has imploded and as a result she is left with no job and no apartment. Despite the dire nature of her circumstances, June is determined: she will not give up and go back to Indiana — she will take control of her life and somehow find a way to stick it out in New York. (Tenacious ladies FTW!)

After meeting with a montage of potential (utterly awful) roommates, June meets Chloe, who presents herself as the picture perfect BFF lady roommate. As soon as June signs on and pays first and last months’ rent, Chloe starts walking around naked and barging into the bathroom and being a total asshole all the time.

But June does not capitulate to Chloe’s con artistry; instead, she escalates the altercation: she sells all of Chloe’s furniture. When June stands up to Chloe, their friendship begins to take root.

In an interview with Collider, show creator Nahnatchka Khan explains:

If June was weak, Chloe wouldn’t respect her, and for Chloe, respect is everything. If she doesn’t respect you, forget it. June is strong in a different way than Chloe. She’s strong in a more surprising way. Chloe does things that shock people, but then, June also steps up in a way that feels surprising and unexpected.

Show creator/executive producer/writer Nahnatchka Khan (left), executive producer/writer David Hemingson (a little bit less left), and the core cast of Don’t Trust the B– — Show creator/executive producer/writer Nahnatchka Khan (left), executive producer/writer David Hemingson (a little bit less left), and the core cast of *Don’t Trust the B–*

Because of their fundamental respect for each other, over the course of the show’s two seasons these two very different women are each able to learn from the other. June teaches Chloe that girls can play pranks on each other, and Chloe teaches June that “sexy” shouldn’t be narrowly defined by the people featured on the covers of magazines. Chloe teaches June that she can be a “casual sexer,” and June teaches Chloe that it’s OK for her to care about other people.

Chloe and June enjoy brunch and friendship

Dreama Walker’s June is a joy to watch: her strength and determination in the face of adversity, her glass-half-full approach to life, her verve.

She’s an ambitious woman navigating the boys’ club world of finance, and she’s not afraid to walk away from a tremendous career opportunity when she discovers a gross misogynistic ethos pervades the company that hired her. It should be noted that June is no prude: she clearly has sexual desires, and while she’s sometimes hesitant to act on them, she’s never ashamed of them. Only someone with spectacular strength, spirit, and optimism could stand a chance of weathering Hurricane Chloe, and June is ever up for the challenge.

And let’s talk about Krysten Ritter’s Chloe –

I challenge you to name another female character on TV who is such a total sociopathic manipulative narcissistic asshole and yet so incredibly likable. Sure, the anti-hero is all over television, but it’s male characters: Gregory House, Walter White, Don Draper, all the guys in this book so aptly titled: Difficult Men. Chloe is unique, as Buzzfeed points out in the list “9 Reasons to Save Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23”:

2. There’s no other character like Chloe on TV.

She’s a treasure. The joy of Chloe is that there’s always a method to her madness. Even when she’s nasty and vindictive, she has a greater plan. Sometimes the end doesn’t justify the means, but she’s doing her best by being the worst.

Deep, deep, deeeep down, Chloe is extremely loyal to those closest to her. Her approach to everyone and everything is typically maniacal and manipulative, which renders her moments of (albeit often twisted) altruism all the more meaningful.

For example, in the pilot episode, Chloe has sex with June’s cheating scumbag boyfriend on June’s birthday cake for no other reason than to prove to June that she needs to DTMFA. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” June says, and she means it.

Khan provides an insight into Chloe’s psyche and why we embrace her often horrific antics:

She does have her own moral code. She’s not just a sociopath. You understand why she does what she does, once she explains it to you. It’s weird, fucked-up logic, obviously, but you’re like, “Oh, okay, all right, I see what she’s going for.”

My favorite example of this occurs in “Sexy People…”, the episode in which Chloe takes over People Magazine to prove a point to June about the mutability and marketability of “sexy” in popular culture:

Chloe: I had them mock this up down at the office. I became the managing editor of People Magazine today.

June: Yeah, right.

Chloe: It’s true. I’ve taken over a bunch of companies before…You just gotta walk in like you own the place, fire the first person to ask you a question, fire the second person to ask you a question, and then gaze out the window and draw a peen on the board. It’s the traditional intimidation-confusion-submission technique.

We root for Chloe in her quest to take over People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue, no matter how atrocious her methods. In fact, even the recipient of Chloe’s worst treatment (Brenda, smackwich) ultimately states that Chloe was the best boss she’s ever had. We, the audience, are asked to love Chloe in all of her bitch glory.

Don’t trust the B— — *Don’t Trust the B—*

This brings me to my essay’s second subject: the word “bitch.”

Just prior to the launch of the series, articles sprang up questioning and condemning ABC’s use of “Bitch” and “B—”:

Michal Lemberger, in “What ‘B—’ leaves out” (Salon), acknowledges that while “bitch” is often used to denigrate women, it can also be used by women to elevate other women:

Any woman who is labeled a bitch is someone who won’t give what’s asked of her. She has broken the social contract that demands women be pliable and accommodating. Which is precisely the opposite of its meaning when used as a compliment. A woman who admiringly calls another woman a bitch is declaring her admiration for someone who won’t conform to those expectations.

Nevertheless, she takes issue with the use of the “B—” in ABC’s show title:

Despite the gains women have made, gender relations in America remain troubled: Widespread wage gaps still exist, as does a paucity of women at the highest levels of power. We’re still arguing about why women get blamed for their own rapes. The list goes on and on. The words we use to refer to women show us how far that process is from being complete.

Megan Kearns, in “Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23: The Upcoming TV Show and the B Word” (Bitch Flicks), vehemently takes issue with the title’s use of the B—:

It’s not within a cultural vacuum that this show chose its title. The creators and ABC all know it demeans women. But they obviously don’t give a shit. What’s new?

I respect every woman’s right to object to words that have historically been used to subjugate women. But I also endorse every woman’s right to reclaim this oppressive language, to seize control of a hateful, harmful word and reshape it to facilitate empowerment.

I believe that the use of “bitch,” in the context of Don’t Trust the B—, has the power to create a positive impact on women’s lives. This show, created by a woman, paints a bitch as a fearless woman who knows who she is, what she wants, and how to get it. We root for the bitch!

Andi Zeisler, co-founder and creative/editorial director of Bitch Magazine, writes in “The B-Word? You Betcha.” (Washington Post):

My own definition of the term being what it is, I can confidently say that I want my next president to be a bitch, and that goes for men and women. Outspoken? Check. Commanding? Indeed. Unworried about pleasing everybody? Sure. Won’t bow to pressure to be “nice”? You bet.

Outspoken, commanding, unworried about pleasing everybody, won’t bow to pressure to be “nice” – this sounds like Chloe…and it also sounds like June. In fact, sharing these qualities is what allows this unlikely duo to forge their friendship. Sure, Chloe takes “bitch” to the comic extreme, but hey, that’s the genre.

Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 is by no means an absolute paragon of feminist values. There’s lots of problematic sociocultural stuff to unpack here, like impossible standards of beauty and white central characters orbited by peripheral characters of color. What shouldn’t be considered problematic by feminist communities is the show’s use of the word “bitch.”

America can’t yet handle using all five letters of the word “Bitch” in a network show title, but there is no question as to what B— means. The bowdlerized version allows Khan to use the controversial word, and the way she uses it pushes our culture’s conception of “bitch” toward Zeisler’s definition – a good thing for women and a great thing for June and Chloe!

Mychael Blinde is interested in representations of gender and popular culture and blogs at Vagina Dentwata.

Why All Our Daughters Need to See ‘Maleficent’ Right Now

We need heroines who tell girls that they are strong and capable entirely on their own, that they don’t need a family and ESPECIALLY don’t need a lover in order to become themselves. We need heroines who prove in action that no one ever—EVER—has the right to take your livelihood or body or home away from you, as well as that—if it happens—it doesn’t have to destroy you forever. Girls need to see that it’s okay to seek and use power, that there is nothing at all wrong with being a strong, emotional, powerful leader as a woman.

This is a guest post by Melissa Cordner.

***Sole warning: contains all the spoilers.***

Reviews and friends will tell you that Maleficent was predictable, at times slow, and seemed to be primarily an excuse for the artists to show off their CG skills (that dragon though!). In terms of action-based plotlines, this is fair, but those who are bored by the film are overlooking one key factor: character development. Maleficent is a classic stereotypical “total bitch”—and THAT’S PORTRAYED AS A GOOD THING.

Maleficent was a sweet little girl, adored by her community and brave enough to defend it peaceably. She fell in love, as we are prone to do, and had her heart broken when the object of her affections left to chase fame and fortune, as we are also prone to do. This heartbreak made her cautious, but it did not destroy her. No, it was when he came back, soothed away the pain of years with his sweet talk and cuddles, and then drugged her and brutally hacked off and stole her wings, that she went a little crazy with pain and rage.

The importance of the wing theft seems a little underplayed in the film; at no point does Maleficent come out and say “the person I was in love with broke my body and spirit by taking away my main source of pride, mobility, and identity.” She spells it out a little for Aurora when she explains that her wings never faltered and were always dependable, but that doesn’t quite get to the heart of it either. On one level, her wings were what made her a fairy and made her the protector of the moors; without them, she is landlocked and crippled, incapable of work and even play. This would destroy anyone, but the fact that her wings were stolen not in battle but under the guise of romantic love adds another more complicated layer to the trauma. This man felt entitled to her body; he felt it fair to drug her and take what he wanted with no respect for what she wanted or needed or how she would survive afterwards. He took away her identity, her pride in her body, and her livelihood. He never asked permission, he never apologized, and she was left with trust in nothing and no one—not even herself.

It is interesting to note that he could not bring himself to kill her, but chose to cause her a lifetime of pain and suffering instead. Like Maleficent in the Sleeping Beauty saga, Stefan is easy to read as evil and malicious; however, we see he still has a bit of compassion when he can’t bring himself to drive the blade into her back. Of course he still destroys her in every way possible by tearing off her wings; does this make him better, or worse, than a murderer? He also could have used the knife and let her bleed to death from the experience but chose instead a chain which (we can guess) was made of iron and therefore cauterized the wounds; is this compassion, or cruelty? Even here, Maleficent shows that things are not always black and white.

It is also important to note that her wings—which Stefan keeps locked under glass as a bizarre morbid trophy—come to life and return to Maleficent when she is about to die, immobilized by her inability to fly away from the power-sapping iron (another secret her once-lover has used against her as a way to destroy her, for those of you keeping track). It is no accident that those wings lay dormant behind that glass for sixteen years while Maleficent’s heart was consumed by a bitter storm of resentment and revenge. It is no accident that they came to life when Maleficent was about to die, AFTER she had told Aurora to run, using close to the last of her strength to protect what her heart cherished most. It is no accident that sixteen-year-old Aurora is who topples that trophy case and frees the wings to return to the fairy. Maleficent’s wings return because her heart does when she puts Aurora before herself, just as they disappeared when her faith and ability to love were stolen. You don’t erase a rape or betrayal—ever— but it IS possible to get your livelihood back and become proud of your body again.

The fact that Aurora— the child upon whom Maleficent cast a vengeful curse so powerful even she could not undo it—is the reason Maleficent’s heart (and wings) return to her is hugely important. This shows audience members that we don’t only deserve love, even when we run from it; we also deserve forgiveness. Maleficent was bitter and hurting and angry and made a bad decision. She made a huge mistake that destroyed an innocent person’s life for the sake of revenge… and that person LOVED HER ANYWAY. If Aurora hadn’t loved Maleficent as much as Maleficent loved her, even after finding out the source of the curse, the kiss would not have been of true love and the spell would not have been broken. We know this because the kiss from Phillip didn’t work; they didn’t know each other well enough, they didn’t love each other truly enough. As in Frozen (and Enchanted now that I think about it), Disney finally gives us the message that love at first sight is not all it’s made out to be.

This generation of girls has had sassy, brave and strong heroines before Maleficent, of course, but all these heroines have left us wanting more complexity. I grew up with Hermione, the cleverest girl at Hogwarts—who solved riddles for the main male character and played a vital-but-still-merely-supporting role to his adventures. Teenagers now identify with Katniss, the badass figurehead of the rebel movement in The Hunger Games—an emotional, confused girl who bravely defended her sister and then forevermore served as a puppet for the movement rather than a leader. Disney’s movies have participated in this movement as well. Tangled’s Rapunzel dared to question authority but was still fulfilled by finding love and a throne; Brave’s Merida valued herself as more of a person than a princess and learned the value of bravery without a supporting man but remained a princess and even—painfully enough—underwent a “makeover” to become more stereotypically beautiful/soft/feminine later on. Frozen gave us female characters with a bit more emotional complexity, but even Anna—who proved that true love does not have to be romantic love—was sweet and a little bumbling and would never hurt a fly… and even she ended up with a boyfriend. All of these women show girls that it’s okay to be emotional and scared, it’s okay to rely on others, and it’s possible to be brave and strong and true to yourself while you do it. That is a message that our girls, who still dress up like Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella, need desperately to hear.

But I, for one, think it’s time to take the “you don’t need to be helpless and dependent to be feminine” theme a little further. We need heroines who tell girls that they are strong and capable entirely on their own, that they don’t need a family and ESPECIALLY don’t need a lover in order to become themselves. We need heroines who prove in action that no one ever—EVER—has the right to take your livelihood or body or home away from you, as well as that—if it happens—it doesn’t have to destroy you forever. Girls need to see that it’s okay to seek and use power, that there is nothing at all wrong with being a strong, emotional, powerful leader as a woman. It’s time we tell our girls that you can fight back, even using defensive violence, and still be a good person. It’s time to tell our girls that they can make mistakes and even hurt the people they love, and still deserve that love. Yes, Maleficent DOES have a slow plot, instead centering almost entirely on the character development of one woman—and it is about damn time.

‘Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23’: The Upcoming TV Show and the B Word

ABC’s upcoming show (premieres April), ‘Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23’

Written by scATX. Originally published at scATX: Speakers Corner in the ATX. Cross-posted with permission.

Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23 – That would be the title of ABC’s newest sitcom. According to Entertainment Weekly:

“The story is about a naive young woman who comes to New York City and ends up with a trouble-making party-girl roommate.”

This sounds so fun. I love when American pop culture makes fun of the ladies! As one of the commenters at Entertainment Weekly said: “How about “Don’t Trust the M–F–ing C– Wh-re in Apartment 23″?” Or as another put it: “What’s wrong with Don’t Trust the Girl in Apartment 23. That would have gotten my attention too, either way it’s an unusual title.” I don’t think they meant “unusual”, though. I think they meant “offensive.”

There are, of course, plenty of supporters for this. As some dude there argued: “The ABC sitcom DTTBIA23 doesn’t offend me. I’m a male with a sense of humor though. If the title is a female’s perspective of another female, the show could have catty, campy potential.” And then there’s this gem of an observation: “Watch shows like The Office or 30 Rock or Arrested Development and you will understand why it’s sometimes okay to be racist or sexist for comedy. When you do it right, it’s more funny than it is offensive. This title is risque, yes, but funny at the same time.”

I mean, after reading these comments about people’s reaction to the TITLE of this show, I can’t possibly see why anyone would be offended that ABC would back such a project. I mean, dudes with senses of humor get it. And it is okay to be racist and sexist in comedy. Sheesh.

______________

In case you are wondering what is wrong with using the word “bitch” in this way, check out Shakesville’s take on using the word “bitch” (and the word “cunt”) as an insult. But, you know, it is encapsulated by this:

“…demeaning and marginalizing sexist language has the capacity to make women feel demeaned and marginalized.”

The title is making fun of a woman for her lifestyle of “partying”. It is an insult. It is a particularly gendered insult, one that can only be lobbied at a woman. Because if you call a man a “bitch”, it’s an effective insult in that you are calling him a slur that is used to cut down women, so he’s not only a mean person but a feminine one, too. And we all know being like a woman is insulting. [On a side not: Is there a truly insulting cuss word/insult for a white hetero dude that doesn’t also demean a woman or a minority OR can’t also be used on a woman or a minority? I don’t think such a thing exists. If you think of one, let me know. I think this is yet another instance of white hetero male privilege.]

Here is a GREAT article in The Washington Post from the Andi Zeisler, a cofounder of Bitch magazine (go read it), from 2008 that Melissa McEwan at Shakesville refers to in the above link. And here is the part that matters for me right now:

“Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn’t respond to men’s catcalls or smile when they say, “Cheer up, baby, it can’t be that bad.” We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn’t apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation.

“So let’s not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we’ve done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine — and sees uncompromising speech by women as anathema to a tidy, well-run world.“

It’s not within a cultural vacuum that this show chose its title. The creators and ABC all know it demeans women. But they obviously don’t give a shit. What’s new?

______________

Also, according to TV Week (in a post about this show): “And for your own edification, some stats about the word bitch. According to the Parents Television Council, “The use of the word, “bitch,” for example, tripled in the last decade alone, growing to 1,277 uses on 685 shows in 2007 from 431 uses on 103 prime-time episodes in 1998,” it has been reported by The New York Times.

And Entertainment Weekly wrote just this past fall that “Oprah bans the word ‘bitch’ from her network.”

I’m sure this statistic is totally and completely unrelated to this tripling of the word “bitch” on TV (post from Entertainment Weekly by the fabulous Jennifer Armstrong, first posted on Oct. 30, 2009):

“Women are being beaten, tortured, and brutally murdered more than ever on network TV: A new study by the Parents Television Council shows violence against women on television is up a stunning 120 percent in the past five years. Violence overall in the same period increased only 2 percent, which seems to indicate there’s very little guy-on-guy combat happening, relatively speaking.”

There’s no connection between demeaning language against women on TV increasing and violence against women on TV increasing. It’s not like all of these shows are created by the same people in the same cultural atmosphere selling to the same American public, right?

scATX is a liberal Texan, historian, mother, and twitterphile. She is a pro-choice advocate who runs the reproductive rights blog, Keep Your Boehner Out of My Uterus. You can find her personal blog at scATX.com.

‘Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23:’ The Upcoming TV Show and the B Word

ABC’s upcoming show (premieres April), ‘Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23’

Written by scATX. Originally published at scATX: Speakers Corner in the ATX. Cross-posted with permission.

Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23 – That would be the title of ABC’s newest sitcom. According to Entertainment Weekly:

“The story is about a naive young woman who comes to New York City and ends up with a trouble-making party-girl roommate.”

______________

“…demeaning and marginalizing sexist language has the capacity to make women feel demeaned and marginalized.”

“Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn’t respond to men’s catcalls or smile when they say, “Cheer up, baby, it can’t be that bad.” We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn’t apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation.

“So let’s not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we’ve done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine — and sees uncompromising speech by women as anathema to a tidy, well-run world.“

It’s not within a cultural vacuum that this show chose its title. The creators and ABC all know it demeans women. But they obviously don’t give a shit. What’s new?

______________

And Entertainment Weekly wrote just this past fall that “Oprah bans the word ‘bitch’ from her network.”

“Women are being beaten, tortured, and brutally murdered more than ever on network TV: A new study by the Parents Television Council shows violence against women on television is up a stunning 120 percent in the past five years. Violence overall in the same period increased only 2 percent, which seems to indicate there’s very little guy-on-guy combat happening, relatively speaking.”

Quote of the Day: Andi Zeisler

Andi Zeisler, Co-Founder of Bitch Magazine

In The B-Word? You Betcha., published in the Washington Post in 2007, Andi Zeisler, co-founder of Bitch Magazine, discussed the choice of title for the magazine and the cultural significance of the word “bitch.” The piece was published during the 2008 Democratic primary, when the term was routinely applied to candidate Hillary Clinton, as a term of derision and as a compliment (Tina Fey’s Saturday Night Live Weekend Update segment comes to mind, in which she declared “bitch is the new black” and “bitches get things done”). Still, the word remains controversial, and one that many people choose not to embrace. With respect to those people, we do embrace the term.

Here’s Zeisler on the word “bitch:”

People want to know whether it is still a bad word. They want to know whether I support its use in public discourse. Or they already think it’s a bad word and want to discuss whether its use has implications for free speech or sexual harassment or political campaigns.

[…]

So here goes: Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn’t respond to men’s catcalls or smile when they say, “Cheer up, baby, it can’t be that bad.” We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn’t apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation.

So let’s not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we’ve done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine — and sees uncompromising speech by women as anathema to a tidy, well-run world.