‘Catwoman,’ ‘Elektra,’ and the Death of the Cinema Superheroine

Now, don’t get me wrong – neither ‘Catwoman’ nor ‘Elektra’ are by any means good movies. The first is silly, the second dull, and both are confusing and ugly, with little interest in their source material and an odd propensity to give characters magical powers. They deserved to fail – but they didn’t deserve to take an entire gender down with them.

Catwoman and Elektra movies

This guest post written by Heather Davidson appears as part of our theme week on Superheroines.


Cast your mind back, if you can, to a time before superhero films dominated the box office. A time before the one-two punch of Iron Man and The Dark Knight revolutionized the genre and made no summer complete without half a dozen comic book adaptions hitting screens. This was the world Catwoman and Elektra premiered in. The latter a spin-off from 2003’s Daredevil, the former inexplicably completely unconnected to the following year’s Batman Begins, both were complete flops. Catwoman failed to make back its budget, Elektra barely did, and they both received a critical mauling.

When movies fail, studios go looking for explanations. In this case, they looked at the failure of Elektra and Catwoman, as well as the failure of the film Supergirl back in 1984, and they came to a conclusion: superheroines don’t sell. It’s a conclusion that Hollywood seems to have adopted as gospel; last year, Wikileaks published a 2014 email exchange between the CEOs of Marvel and Sony with the subject line “Female Movies,” in which Elektra, Catwoman, and Supergirl were cited as “disasters.” The reluctance among the big studios to greenlight any more “female movies” is obvious – when Wonder Woman premieres next year, it will have been twelve years since we last saw a movie with a woman superhero in the lead role.

Now, don’t get me wrong – neither Catwoman nor Elektra are by any means good movies. The first is silly, the second dull, and both are confusing and ugly, with little interest in their source material and an odd propensity to give characters magical powers. They deserved to fail – but they didn’t deserve to take an entire gender down with them.

Catwoman movie

All the complaints you can make about Catwoman and Elektra can be levelled against so many other superhero movies (with the possible exception of the whole magical powers thing): Green Lantern, Daredevil, Superman Returns, and Jonah Hex. Like Catwoman, Elektra, and Supergirl, the protagonists of these flops shared a gender – yet you would never see them in a list entitled “Male Movies.” The reasons given for their failure are many and varied: they had poor scripts, dull action scenes, bad special effects. This isn’t a privilege afforded to women-led movies; everything comes back to the gender of their protagonist.

However, calling Catwoman and Elektra “female movies” is disingenuous. Both movies were directed by men, with male screenwriters and an almost all-male team of producers (Catwoman does give a producer credit to Denise Di Novi). The lack of women’s voices on the production teams is blatant. Elektra is interested in its protagonist’s gender only so far as it creates the opportunity to put Jennifer Garner in a revealing outfit and have her kiss another woman. Meanwhile, Catwoman’s idea of womanhood is that of a boardroom full of men desperately trying to appeal to women aged 18-39, complete with a ‘sassy’ best friend and plot revolving around face cream.

We’ve never had a superheroine movie engage with gender and womanhood in the way TV series like Jessica Jones or Supergirl have in recent years; all it takes is a woman in a visible role (outside the male protagonist’s love interest, of course) for a film to become a “female movie.” For Hollywood, the experience of the white, straight, man is universal, but he can’t empathize with anyone else. As such, even in ensemble pictures like the X-Men or Avengers franchises, the superheroines are marginalized in the movies and their marketing in favor of their male co-stars. Of the 60 items produced to tie-in to the release of Avengers: Age of Ultron last year, Scarlet Johansson’s Black Widow featured on just 3. The issue was obvious enough for Mark Ruffalo, who played her love interest in the film, to publicly demand Marvel produce more.

Elektra movie

This marginalization extends to women behind the camera as well, as Anne Hathaway noted in an interview with the Los Angeles Times’ Rebecca Keegan in 2014:

“A male director can have a series of failures and still get hired. Sometimes movies don’t work, and I feel like if it stars a woman or is directed by a woman, the wheels can’t fall off the train. If this movie directed by a woman does well and this movie directed by a woman does well and then one doesn’t, it’s ‘oh, people don’t like movies directed by women.'”

It’s been sixteen years since X-Men kicked off the superhero boom of the 2000s, and we have yet to see a comic book blockbuster directed by a woman. That’s not to say women have been entirely absent from the director’s chair – Lexi Alexander (who repeatedly advocates for women filmmakers in Hollywood) directed the low budget Punisher: War Zone in 2008, and Patty Jenkins was hired to direct Thor: The Dark World, but left during pre-production. Marvel Studios, at least, gained a reputation for being willing to take risks on unproven directors, like Marc Webb and the Russo brothers, or those whose previous projects had lost money, like Joss Whedon, and James Gunn. However, this approach evidently only extends to male filmmakers. While Marvel claims to be in talks with women directors about the upcoming Captain Marvel movie, and Jenkins is currently overseeing post-production on Wonder Woman, we’ve spent a decade and a half without female representation in a genre that has come to dominate Hollywood. The failure of Catwoman and Elektra may have erased women’s faces from the superhero film, but they never even gave our voices a chance.

Wonder Woman_Batman v Superman

With the first female lead in over a decade and first female director ever, the pressure is high on Wonder Woman to succeed. Protest over the lack of representation for marginalized groups in Hollywood has, thankfully, gained enough mainstream prominence in the last few years that, even if the movie crashes and burns, it’s untenable for the studios to continue excluding women as they have. However, you can be sure that if the film does flop, fingers won’t be pointed at its bizarre scripting system, its troubled production, or its ties to an equally unsettled cinematic universe. The reasons for its failure will begin and end with the gender of its star and director.

In linguistics, there’s a concept known as ‘markedness.’ Out of two paired terms, one will be ‘unmarked’ and other ‘marked.’ The unmarked term is the norm – walk, host, lion. In contrast, its marked equivalent stands out – walked, hostess, lioness. ‘Superheroine’ is a marked term. The actresses who play them are marked, as are the “female movies” they star in. For the past decade, they’ve been marked for failure, by a studio system dominated by short-sighted male executives who can’t see past previous failures. We’re entering a new era for superheroes on-screen, where women again have a seat at the table. We can’t let them take it away again.


Heather Davidson is a web developer-cum-graphic designer-cum writer, with as much of an attention span as that implies. She writes about tech, the niche corners of pop culture and radical activism – preferably all at the same time. Follow her on Twitter @heatherlauren.

The Feminist’s Box Office Call of Duty

Confession time: I really want to see ‘Ant-Man’ this weekend. But I feel it is my duty as a feminist to go see ‘Trainwreck,’ and moreover, to NOT see ‘Ant-Man.’

Marvel's Ant-Man
Marvel’s Ant-Man

 

Confession time: I really want to see Ant-Man this weekend. But I feel it is my duty as a feminist to go see Trainwreck, and moreover, to NOT see Ant-Man.

I’ve got a busy weekend. It’s my wedding anniversary, I’m performing in two shows, plus your standard weekend social obligations. At best I can squeeze in a Sunday matinee. There can be only one.

Amy Schumer and Bill Hader in 'Trainwreck'
Amy Schumer and Bill Hader in Trainwreck

 

And I must see Trainwreck to support women in comedy, specifically the rising stardom of Amy Schumer, whose Comedy Central series is refreshingly, delightfully, overtly feminist. I must do my part, spend my $10.50, help prove that female-driven movies can kill it at the box office. That romcoms can be summer tentpoles. I don’t know how sex-positive Trainwreck will turn out to be, but I should find out, and write a timely new-release Bitch Flicks piece about it. I must answer the call.

Ok, ok! I'll go see 'Trainwreck'
Ok, ok! I’ll go see Trainwreck

 

Conversely, I must reject Ant-Man. Not only to highlight the relative (hopeful) success of Trainwreck (my guess is Minions will carry the weekend again anyway). Because Ant-Man is the tipping point in Marvel’s frustrating over-reliance on white male superheroes, trotting out C-list characters before Captain Marvel and Black Panther (both flicks pushed back to accommodate the utterly pointless third go at Spider-Man, blerg), and with no Black Widow movie on the horizon. Because the #JanetVanCrime of fridging Wasp, a founding member of the Avengers. Because a sympathetic portrayal of Hank Pym might actually make my blood boil (OK, well, not literally, but it could spike my blood pressure to dangerous levels).

Janet Van Dyne  aka Wasp named the Avengers, but she's being erased in the Marvel Cinematic Universe
Janet Van Dyne aka Wasp named the Avengers, but she’s being erased in the Marvel Cinematic Universe
But I wannnnaaaaa see Ant-Man. I love superhero movies. And heist movies. Ant-Man is both. Matt Zoller Seitz, possibly my most trusted critic at present, says it is really good. It’s got some Honey, I Shrunk the Kids perspective stuff, which is always fun (probably less fun when it relies on CGI, but still). I’ve had a crush on Paul Rudd for 20 years. Twenty years! TWO THIRDS OF MY LIFE. And the post-credits sequence teases Captain America: Civil War, which I have been eagerly anticipating since, well, the post-credits sequence of Captain America: The Winter Soldier*. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the Marvel machine.
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.

 

So I start talking myself into how it is OK for me to go see Ant-Man. The superhero movie bubble is going to pop, but I’m not ready for that to happen yet. Not before Captain Marvel and Black Panther start filming. And Hera forbid this spilling over into the DC side of the superhero movie industry before Wonder Woman.

And if I had to pick the pin that would pop the bubble, it would be the new Spider-Man, or as I like to call it, Spider-Why. Three white boy Peter Parkers in 15 years? WHY. WHY. WHY. (I said it three times even though that’s painfully redundant. See what I did there?) So I should support Ant-Man to make the new Spider-Man look worse. That makes sense, right? OK, I’m really grasping at straws.

I'd rather see the superhero movie bubble pop with the third white boy Spider-Man
I’d rather see the superhero movie bubble pop with the third white boy Spider-Man

 

As I wrestle with which wide-release big studio movie I am going to see, I am reminded of the heroic efforts of some feminists to ONLY support female-directed or written movies. Or at least actively seek them out and promote them, instead of drinking whatever sand Hollywood just poured over the masses. I recognize applying feminist critiques to mainstream movies isn’t enough. This conundrum I’ve imposed on myself highlights the cracks in my feminism. (For what it’s worth, Amy Schumer wrote the screenplay for Trainwreck, so even though its advertising says “From the guy who brought you Bridesmaids” [also written by women!], I think it is fair to call Trainwreck is a film by a woman.)

Trainwreck promo image says "from the guy who brought you Bridesmaids", even though both films were written by women
Trainwreck promo image says “from the guy who brought you Bridesmaids,” even though both films were written by women

 

The compromise I will make is to see Trainwreck this weekend and hold off on Ant-Man for at least another week.  And then seek out some of the latest independent films directed by women. I will fulfill my feminist call of duty to the best of my ability.

Ant-Man gives a thumbs up.
Ant-Man gives my plan a thumbs up.

 

(*For those of you who think it is ridiculous to want to see a movie in part for its post-credits sequence, well, you are totally right. But let me remind you of a simpler time, before YouTube, when Meet Joe Black got a box office bump just from running the trailer for Star Wars Episode I. Geeks do silly things.)

 


Robin Hitchcock is a writer based in Pittsburgh who saw Meet Joe Black in the theater for reasons other than the Phantom Menace trailer. She has since improved her life choices.

 

 

Let’s Hear It for the Boy! Masculinity and the Monomyth

As the monomyth evolves, the question is: will it evolve to include the “everywoman” hero archetype, or will the nature of myth itself change to embrace not just the messaging of individualization, but the representation of unique stories for unique people?


This guest post by Morgan Faust appears as part of our theme week on Masculinity.


I had a professor who began our first writing class with a wonderful speech about how as writers we have the most important job in the world since we create the myths that inform and mold society and its expectations of itself. Granted, his job was to convince us grad school was worth $40,000 a year….but the idea that narratives have real power did stay with me (so I guess he proved his point). Our national cinema (by which I mean the big stuff that shows up in theaters and is sent out around the world) says a lot about who we, as a country, think we are.

To judge by last year’s overseas box office numbers, we are a nation of white boys and men who fight imaginary baddies…oh and Angelina Jolie. There are many things we could tease out about America’s self-assumed national identity from our cinematic persona with regard to race, heteronormativity, military prowess, but this is Bitch Flicks and the topic is masculinity, so for today, let’s stick to that. Notably, in those top ten movies we have (often in the form of a sequel, triquel, and I don’t even know where to begin counting the X-Men movies) the story of a scrawny, nerdy, outcast boy who goes on a journey and becomes the hero he was meant to be. This story is known to its friends as the monomyth. So what does this myth say about us? A whole heck of a lot! So come with me, oh humble reader, and you will be transformed!

They’re softly lit, and ready for action.
They’re softly lit, and ready for action.

 

A fantastic, recent example of our everyman hero, monomyth affinity is The Lego Movie. This story has all the notes of the humble hero myth: the hero Emmet, a good-hearted nobody who is chosen by a higher power, Vitruvius, to be the “special,” is then supported by a team of talented people–Wild Style, Batman, and Unikitty–to try and conquer evil Mr. Business. He eventually discovers he had the power to defeat the big bad in him all along! (Sound familiar, Bilbo? Mr. Potter?) Lord and Miller know their stuff. They play craftily with the myth; it’s story structure (ultimately our characters are actually Legos, not people, and they represent the feelings of the boy that is playing with them. Therapists would have loved working with this kid). It has a great message about play and finding your own voice, and says we can all be heroes! Especially boys! Oh, right. While the message of the movie might be about everyone, the story is about an everyman. I am reminded of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” It represents all people, but it definitely says men.

You could be me! Unless you’re, you know, not a straight, white, um, yellow dude!
You could be me! Unless you’re, you know, not a straight, white, um, yellow dude!

 

So let’s dig into the component parts here. We have Emmet who is a good guy, friendly, upbeat, hardworking but unappreciated by his peers (calling Steve Rogers). All of these are traits you choose to have, rather than are born with, which fits in perfectly with the Alger Hiss American Dream we hold so dear: we are not a nation of fated success stories,  we are individuals formed by our choices. Monomyth heroes are often orphans, or at the very least unloved by their parents, so they are truly, self-made men. How to Train Your Dragon’s Hiccup is small, hardworking and big-hearted. Harry Potter, even though put upon by awful relatives, was still generally a good kid who tried his best. And Luke was, well let’s be honest, he was a brat, but he was supposed to be a good-hearted, ambitious kid, who wanted to get out and see the world. This is a particular vision of masculinity; it’s not the “right man for the job” skill set of Indiana Jones, Hercules, or James Bond, instead, these are highly attainable character traits.

For all these boys/men, at some point early in the story, someone or thing plucks them from their mundane existence to send them on their path to greatness. The Lego Movie has fun with this conceit by getting a bit meta and literally calling him “the special,” but it is still the familiar notion that through no action of his own, Emmet is lifted up and named the one person who can save the world; and while he doesn’t see it about himself yet, the powers that be have faith in him that he will one day be the hero they know he can be. Which leads us nicely to the next thing a humble hero needs: his team.

In The Lego Movie this is made up a of team of Master Builders, a group of elite builders with the ability to create anything from legos, a skill that Emmet notably lacks. And while this group has their doubts about him, they never abandon him, they listen, and they follow his leadership. Each is a different variation on Emmet, and a manifestation of a skill set he doesn’t have, which in this case, as in many movies, includes a token woman (in Lego there is a token woman, and a token female crazy pony). Despite their abilities, each of these characters are included in the story only so they can help the hero find his inner strength and attain the goal of defeating evil.

We’re here for you! Here and slightly behind you!
We’re here for you! Here and slightly behind you!

 

Which brings us to the final piece of the monomyth: the hero had the answer inside of him all along. Whether it be the hero’s discovery that in fact he is special, like with Harry Potter (not only am I a wizard, I’m a Horcrux!), or simply that some character trait that had been deemed worthless proves vital, like with Kung Fu Panda’s Po, his love and belief in his heroes proves to be the thing all heroes need to succeed. The journey has brought the hero to a crucial juncture, and in order to defeat the big bad, our man has to come to face-to-face with his true self and embrace his identity.

What a perfect ending to an American myth: we each have greatness inside of us, no matter who we are!

Those aren’t noodles in there, I’m full of greatness!
Those aren’t noodles in there, I’m full of greatness!

 

And it is, it’s a great story, maybe the greatest. In fact, most religions have some version of this very idea at the core of  their system (think how at the end of every yoga class the teacher ends saying Namaste or “the God within me greets the God within you”). So if this self-empowerment myth is limited only to men, what does that say about our culture? Well, we see its reflection in the XY domination of the White House. We see it again in Lily Ledbetter’s fight for equal pay. And we see it in the hiring practices of Hollywood (hey there Colin Treverrow!). We have a national love affair with underdog male success stories, a love affair that has not yet extended to women. And that is a damn shame.

But there is hope, a whole lot of it. Things are changing (Hillary!), and that myth is becoming more inclusive. On the one hand, we see that the traits our male heroes often embrace in order to defeat the big bad are becoming more traditionally feminine characteristics: kindness, generosity, self-sacrifice and teamwork. It’s not just about who’s the strongest or fiercest, it’s about love and respect for others. All good things. And we have Buffy, we have Katniss, and (coming this summer!) the return of Sarah Connor. There is a difference, however, between our female heroes and their male counterparts, and that is that they are fleshed out, full characters. They are not mirrors to reflect an improved image of the audience, they are women with families, feelings and flaws; they are people, not archetypes.

These heroes are women, but they aren’t everywoman.
These heroes are women, but they aren’t everywoman.

 

As the monomyth evolves, the question is: will it evolve to include the “everywoman” hero archetype, or will the nature of myth itself change to embrace not just the messaging of individualization, but the representation of unique stories for unique people?

 


Morgan Faust is writer/director who works in LA with her creative partner and brother Max Isaacson. Together they form the duo BroSis. When they aren’t writing action films with kick-ass women heroes, they’re keeping it goofy over at FunnyorDie.com.  Click here to see what she means.

Twitter @morganfaust

Instagram @brosisgrams