Consumerism – Bitch Flicks

Warning: this post contains a distressing image.

The collapse of the Rana Plaza garment factory in Savar, Bangladesh on the April 24, 2013 is one of the tragedies of our time. More than 1,100 garment workers lost their lives and many more were injured. The majority of them were young women. It was, in fact, nothing less than industrial murder. The factory bosses were warned about the cracks in the shoddily constructed building, yet the workers were forced to come to work that day. In June this year, the owner of the factory and 40 others were charged with murder. Multinational retailers could also, of course, be said to have blood on their hands. The poorly-paid workers made clothes for well-known global brands like Primark, Mango and Benetton. Some companies predictably took their time but the compensation fund for victims was also secured in June of this year.

The Rana Plaza tragedy inspired director Andrew Morgan to make The True Cost (2015), an ambitious, wide-ranging documentary about the globalized garment industry. We journey with him to world fashion centres and places where most of our clothes are made- Cambodia, India, China and Bangladesh- to meet garment workers, activists, academics and Free Trade representatives. Global brand bosses are conspicuous by their absence.

The True Cost tackles the exploitation of garment workers and the horrendous impact that the clothing industry has on the health of working communities and the environment. Morgan specifically targets the contemporary fast fashion model- the quick-response manufacturing of affordable clothes inspired by high-cost fashion trends. He explains that High Street fashion brands find Bangladesh a particularly attractive place to do business because of cheap labor and interviews a local factory owner who says that he is pressured by retailers to keep costs low. Reflecting on the exploitative, get-out-of-jail-free part played by global brands should make you quietly seethe. Most of Bangladesh’s garment workers are young women and they earn less than three US dollars a day. Workers are abused, even killed, for demanding better pay and conditions. We see footage of garment workers in Cambodia being shot at as they demonstrate for an increase in the minimum wage. Morgan rightly describes the low-cost, exploitative system of poverty wages and dangerous working conditions as “a perfectly engineered nightmare for the workers trapped inside of it.”

In an effort to personalize and make accessible this complex, multifaceted global story, Morgan spotlights the struggles of 23-year-old Shima Akhter, a Bangladeshi garment worker and union organizer who says she was beaten for trying to improve her and her co-workers’ lot. Her personal situation is tough too as she is forced to leave her young daughter Nadia in the countryside with relatives for long periods at a time while she works in the city. Shima is a strong, gracious woman who wants the best for the daughter she adores. She loves her parents and always sports a warm smile. The shots of Shima and her family in the countryside are beautifully observed but it is her words that haunt you: “I don’t want anyone wearing anything which is produced by our blood.”

Morgan equally addresses the industry’s ruinous impact on the environment and health of people living and working in communities serving the industry. He explains, “Fashion today is the number two most polluting industry on earth, second only to the oil industry.” I doubt most of us are aware of this fact and it underlines the obscene enormity of the problem posed by fast fashion. We see landfills overflowing with textile waste- a strange, disturbing sight- and learn of the appalling effect pesticide and fertilizer use has had on physical and mental health in communities in the Punjab region of India.

Clearly intended as a wake-up call, The True Cost looks at alternative ways of doing business and gives voice to those questioning the existing economic system. We meet London-based Safia Minney, founder and CEO of Fair Trade People Tree and LaRhea Pepper, an organic cotton farmer from Texas. Both advocate ethical and sustainable solutions. The most powerful comments, however, come from economist Richard Woolf. He observes, “So America became a peculiar country. You could criticize the education system…you could criticize the transportation system….but you couldn’t criticize the economic system. That got a free pass…Capitalism couldn’t be questioned.” Morgan, further, takes aim at the consumerist mentality that fuels fast fashion but I’m not sure we learn anything new regarding materialism in the Millenium. I had, however, never seen the nauseating You Tube clothes haul videos Morgan features. They, indeed, denote an epic, soulless low.

The True Cost has moments of power but it is not without its flaws. While Morgan clearly supports their struggle, more garment workers and union representatives should have been interviewed. The documentary, further, does not give an in-depth, gender-aware analysis of the lives of female garment workers. The arguments and images employed to critique consumerism are not, it must be said, particularly striking or original. Morgan should, nevertheless be commended for raising awareness of the acute human suffering behind the production of fast clothes. It prompts serious reflection about the vulturism of the industry and our response to economic violence. While it was widely reported, Rana Plaza did not become a social media cause in the same way as other recent tragedies. We know why, of course. Consumer capitalism reigns and the media, even culturally progressive sites, do not seem all that interested in workers’ rights. Hopefully, documentaries like The True Cost will encourage more to break the shameful silence.

Splash movie poster

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

I was completely in LOVE with Ron Howard’s 1984 film Splash when I was little. I was then and continue now to be obsessed with mermaids. My child brain even thought that in the way hair color changes as you get older, I could become a mermaid as naturally as all that. It’s probably even why I like swimming so much. For a brief moment while doing the butterfly, I can pretend I’m Madison diving into the ocean. Too bad my dolphin kick is for shit.

Jeepers, mermaids are cool.

When I thought about reviewing Splash, I latched onto some of its more surprising, potentially feminist qualities, but upon rewatching it, I found it was a more deeply layered film than I’d realized. One feminist aspect of the movie is that Daryl Hannah’s mermaid Madison overcomes her inability to speak (as dictated by Hans Christian Anderson’s original The Little Mermaid story) through her remarkable intelligence and adaptability.

We watch Madison fall in love with the human world, and her innocent joy humanizes a potentially exotic character while making the audience take another look at many of the things we take for granted: speaking, dancing, ice skating, the gritty beauty of urban landscapes,

“What’s that? Pretty.” – Madison

the satisfaction of a fine meal,

“That’s how we eat lobster where I come from.” – Madison

and the luxury of a hot bath.

For fins: Add water, table salt, and land-legged mermaid.

Most interestingly, though, Madison shows us how influential media is in our perception of who we are and how we fit into our culture. Her first word is “Bloomingdale’s.” A saleswoman (Madison’s first interaction with another woman) even says of an outfit Madison touches, “I couldn’t get one leg in there. My daughter, on the other hand, is lucky; she’s anorexic.” Madison’s first internalization is of society’s definition of femininity, and that internalization goes hand-in-hand with commerce and capitalism. She proceeds to spend the entire day at the mall, buying things, learning English, and aerobicizing with Richard Simmons, using the televisions at an electronics studio. Madison’s first day as a human woman shows us that media dispenses our culture’s expectations, and we must buy into them literally.

Another feminist aspect of Splash is that she doesn’t give up her world to be with a man, though she nearly does (because Tom Hanks’ Allen Bauer character refuses to let her go gracefully, he instead yells at her and derides her). Instead, Allen joins her underwater paradise, and Madison gets to be herself, fishtail and all, which I find intriguing because they make much of her sexual appetite and of how frequently she and Allen have sex…don’t see that happening anymore in the usual way.

Underwater makeout scene.

Most importantly on the feminist front, Madison repeatedly rescues Allen. He is generally the damsel in distress, a complete novice in her world where he faces drowning without her. She rescues him twice from drowning and once from his sickhearted loneliness coupled with the complicatedness of a human world where he never really belonged. From Allen’s youth, he’s shown as a romantic, a dreamer. His adult life and the obligations of being a small business owner have distracted him from the simplicity of love and his soulmate, Madison. Even the way he talks about marriage is all about sidestepping immigration regulations and blood tests; the institution itself is just another symbol of the bureaucracy regulating his life. In the end, Madison frees him from that when she gives him an underwater kiss that allows him to breathe and be “safe.” Yes, it’s problematic to have a woman symbolize a lifestyle or quality of life toward which a man gravitates at the end of the film.

Madison and Allen look on at her underwater civilization.

Do I think the film was intentionally critiquing consumerism and the capitalist, American ideal of femininity? Probably not. Ultimately, the film showed us the wonders of our world through fresh eyes, while drawing attention to its glaring faults (for example, the military force that studies Madison against her will and plans to dissect her). Madison’s goal throughout the film may have been love and a man, but it’s important to note that she began her journey to land only planning to spend a single week with him, valuing her life and home under the sea more than love. Even in love, she was always the strong one, never angry, hurtful, or vindictive as Allen was. Madison is a heroine. She saves people. She’s kind, sensitive, intelligent, motivated, and strong enough to rescue a man or fend off military attackers in scuba gear. She is most definitely not the perfect female heroine, but our heroines should be flawed and can be vulnerable. Regardless, Madison is hands-down the best mermaid EVER depicted on-screen, and that makes her my hero.

Tag: Consumerism

‘Splash’: A Feminist Tail Tale?