Dirty Dancing – Bitch Flicks

Ladies of the 1980s Week: The Roundup

Check out all of the posts from our Ladies of the 1980s Week here.

‘Pretty in Pink’: A Desire for Autonomy by Siobhan Denton

Re-watching the film recently, it seems apparent that rather than Andie allowing herself to submit to Blane and all that he represents, her narrative arc is really a search for a sense of autonomy rather than a desire to transition into a world of privilege. … Andie is not happy, despite outward appearances, and it is clear that for her, Blane represents an opportunity to take control of her life, to become increasingly autonomous in her decisions.

‘A Different World’ Shook Up My World by Shara D. Taylor

A Different World will forever hold a special place in my life. Set at the fictional, historically Black school Hillman College, it became my North Star to an experience largely foreign to me — undergraduate life. It gave me insight into the strength gained from friendships with Black women. … Seeing images of young, gifted, and Black women pursuing higher education at a historically Black college or university (HBCU) shaped my vision for my life.

Historical vs. Modern Abortion Narratives in ‘Dirty Dancing’ and ‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High’ by Tessa Racked

Given this climate, it is somewhat surprising that two mainstream Hollywood films, Dirty Dancing and Fast Times at Ridgemont High, would take progressive approaches to a topic like reproductive justice. While Dirty Dancing remembers the realities of abortion pre-Roe v. Wade and illustrates the role that class plays in access to abortion, Fast Times at Ridgemont High shows a main character who exercises her right to choose without trauma or punishment, while managing to keep a relatively light tone.

Feminism and Classism in ‘The Legend of Billie Jean’ by Horrorella

The Legend of Billie Jean addresses questions of gender and class that are as real today as they were in 1985 and sets its story within the struggles against the patriarchy and the ruling wealthy class by people who all too often fall victim to those oppressions. … As the story progresses, Billie Jean’s flight becomes more than just the desire to escape from a situation that sees her and her friends unfairly on the wrong side of the law. She wants wrongs to be set right. … She wants dignity, and respect – truly, what she is after is equality.

10 of the Best Feminist Comedies of the 1980s by Jessica Quiroli

9 to 5. If I may, this is the greatest women’s comedy of all-time. So perfect on every level, it’s hard to know where to begin; but how about with the three main characters? … Played by Jane Fonda, Dolly Parton, and Lilly Tomlin, this wild ride is a classic in any era, but a rare, feminist gem of the 80s.

“You Have No Power Over Me”: Female Agency and Empowerment in ‘Labyrinth’ by Kelcie Mattson

So what distinguishes Labyrinth from the Hero’s Journey tropes it so closely follows? Its protagonist. Sarah is the hero of the story. She doesn’t need to be saved because she’s the rescuer, and she carries the plot forward with her resourcefulness, tenacity, and self-actualization. … But Labyrinth’s dramatic tension is centered entirely in a young woman’s mind as she navigates a tricky tightrope between fantasy and reality, dreams and goals, past and future, and discovers the kind of woman she wants to be.

‘Working Girl’ and the Female Gaze by Allyson Johnson

We so often view films through the Male Gaze with camera shots that are more interested in capturing the way a woman’s body looks under the guise of “sex sells” that it’s become somewhat of the norm. While Working Girl is appreciative of the beauty between Sigourney Weaver and Melanie Griffith, it employs a “female gaze” so to speak with Harrison Ford. … Also a change of pace is the fact that by the end of the film, Katharine and Tess aren’t fighting over Jack. They’re fighting over their place in the working world and, to narrow it down to a single moment, they’re fighting over a great idea that Tess had, one Katharine wishes she could have come up with and resents Tess for.

‘Videodrome’ and the Pornographic Femme Fatale by Dr. Stefan Sereda

Blade Runner (1982) featured two fembots-turned-fatale (and another faux–fatale) whereas David Cronenberg’s sci-fi-horror-noir Videodrome updated the femme fatale as a response to media-saturated late twentieth-century culture. … Regardless, in Cronenberg’s prophetic film, the femme fatale is reborn and unleashed to warn of contemporary dangers, including how women’s media representation as sex objects is connected to capitalist propaganda, often with the intent of making a violent agenda seem pleasurable.

The Feminisms of ‘Born in Flames’ by Heather Brown

It’s no coincidence to me that three years later Lizzie Borden would direct Born in Flames, a film that depicts a collection of different feminist voices all aligned in a common goal of resisting what bell hooks terms the white-supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy. … Instead of acting out carceral feminism, which relies on law enforcement and state violence to combat violence against women, the feminisms of Born in Flames create justice rather than restore “order.”

Did Gender Alter the Tone of the ‘Alien’ Franchise? Implications of Narrative Femininity by Kayleigh Watson

It is science fiction fact however, that Ellen Ripley should not have been “Ellen Ripley” at all. Dan O’Bannon’s original script for Alien stated: “The crew is unisex and all parts are interchangeable for men and women.” …In Aliens – the 1986 sequel directed by James Cameron – both Ripley and the alien are further solidified as female. Cameron pushed the series into being specifically feminist, having Weaver reprise the role in more extreme circumstances. She gained a surrogate daughter – Newt – to protect, more men to fight, and an Alien Queen – one who breeds – to defeat. … Through the course of the film, we come to an implied understanding that is wholly complicit in their both being mothers, adding a subliminal layer that would not have been present had either Ripley or the alien been male.

‘She’s Gotta Have It’: The Audacity of Sex and the Black Women Who Have It by Reginée Ceaser

Looking back on the film today, I appreciate this film now because it centers on a Black woman who unabashedly is exploring and thoroughly enjoying her sexuality. By doing this, Spike Lee took long held beliefs and perceptions of Black women and pushed back on the constrictions and perceptions of society.

‘Jem and the Holograms’: Diversity and Female Empowerment by Horrorella

What I didn’t remember, and was pleasantly surprised by, was all of the diversity present in the show and the incredibly positive female role models that it presented to its young viewers. … It offered a positive statement on cultural acceptance and feminine strength at a time when children’s programming was lacking in both areas (and often still is today). The Holograms celebrated an ethnically and culturally diverse group of characters who came from a variety of different backgrounds.

Reagan’s America: Waiting to Die in ‘Testament’s Radiation Zone by Angela Beauchamp

[Atomic Bomb Cinema author] Jerome Shapiro disregards Testament because it is primarily about women’s suffering, yet this very acknowledgement of women’s powerlessness in a world that patriarchal governments have just blown up is feminist at its core. … This 1983 film created by women gave the audience such a grim picture of the near future, without the excitement of special effects or the hope brought by overcoming obstacles, that it was a call to action, a message to avoid this outcome at all costs.

‘Crossing Delancey’: Isabelle Needs a New Perspective on Life and Love by Susan Cosby Ronnenberg

This romantic comedy has always been more of a cult classic. But it was unusual in its female writer and director, along with its distinctly Jewish cultural setting, its generational custom-clash regarding matchmaking, and its conflicted independent protagonist, Isabelle, who could be read as a late 1980s precursor to ‘Sex and the City’s protagonist Carrie Bradshaw. An independent, straight single woman with a successful career, Isabelle has professional and romantic options, ambitions, and flawed preconceptions about the incompatibility of those options and ambitions as she tries to decide between an internationally acclaimed poet or a neighborhood.

Women Muscians in the 80s Used Music Videos to Expand Notions of Womanhood by Gwen Hofmann

…Women in music broadened visual representations of gender as their cacophony of voices inoculated the population to women of all ages, races, and socioeconomic backgrounds. Most intriguing about this “kaleidoscopic” decade is the way women in 80s music videos displayed these distinct portraits of womanhood. … The ladies of 80s music video brought forth new visual representations of women including: experiences in the workforce, issues of class, messages of power, and unique expressions of love and sex.

‘The Golden Girls’: The Legacy of a Lifetime of Wisdom and Laughter by Adina Bernstein

In 1985, television audiences were reminded that women of a certain age are just as vibrant, sexual, and as full of life as women half their age. They may also share a few life lessons along the way. The TV series ‘The Golden Girls’ — which aired for seven seasons — reminded audiences of all ages that life does not end at fifty for women.

‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High’: The Wisdom and Confidence of Linda Barrett by Angela Morrison

Phoebe Cates brings life to the energetic, worldly, confident-yet-vulnerable Linda. Her character is the heart and soul of the movie, as she gives Stacy (Jennifer Jason Leigh) advice on sex, relationships, and navigating her way through high school. … Linda’s attitude toward sex – which she passes on to Stacy – is that it needn’t be a big deal, but rather, should be seen as a fun and pleasurable activity for young women such as themselves. … She urges Stacy to make her own decisions, letting her know that she has the power to decide who she wants to have sex with, and when. The film never takes a judgmental attitude towards these young women, their sexual activities, and their frank discussions of sex.

The Vietnam War Through a Teen Girl’s Eyes in ‘In Country’ by Caroline Madden

Sam is an underrated, if not widely unknown 1980s heroine. She serves as a symbol for America’s 1980s attempt to reconcile with its most controversial war. The 1980s experienced a boom in Vietnam War films, as the temporal distance from the war allowed filmmakers to fully deconstruct the experience. Rarely is the locus of these films a woman. Sam’s character manages to break through the barriers of a primarily masculine film genre. In Country uniquely explores both the female and child experience of the Vietnam War and its aftermath. This is a departure from the wide variety of films depicting the male veteran’s assimilation into post-Vietnam life, such as Born on the Fourth of July (1989) or First Blood (1982).

Revisiting ‘Desert Hearts’ and Its Lesbian Romance by Angela Beauchamp

For heterosexual women, movies and television series show them every day what a loving relationship is and what the expectations are to grow up, fall in love, and find a handsome prince (however flawed that may be). For lesbians prior to Donna Deitch’s Desert Hearts, nothing of the kind existed on-screen. … It is a conventional romance, which is one of the reasons that it is so successful.

‘Pretty in Pink’: The Only Team to Be on Is Team Andie by Isabella Garcia

I fixated on the Team Duckie vs. Team Blane aspect of the film so much that I entirely missed the point. I was so Team Duckie that I blamed Andie for not choosing him. … It wasn’t until I grew up some more, graduated high school, and went through several re-watches that I realized I had fallen into a trap that society has conditioned us to fall into: the dreaded sexist “friend zone.” … It was wild to me that Andie didn’t like Duckie back, but after recently re-watching the film I don’t know why I ever blamed her. She stuck true to what she wanted.

How ‘Big Business’ Made Big Business with Two Women Big in the Business by Kyle Sanders

Yet what sets this 80s flick apart from most films of that era is the fact that the four protagonists are all women AND completely independent. … Ultimately, it is Midler and Tomlin who save the film from being just another forgotten comedy of the 1980s. The two stars bring a certain gravitas to the screen — a perfect combination of comedic timing and contagious chemistry in scenes that might otherwise fall flat in the hands of other capable actresses.

‘The Stepfather,’ Toppling Patriarchy, and Love of 80s Horror Ladies by Eva Phillips

Stephanie emerges as a poised, perspicacious, and resilient female lead. She is a wonderfully surprising alternative from most of the panoply of horror heroines who are tortured, fight, and scream their way through the terrifying films of the 80s. … Stephanie embodies what each of the archetypally male characters in the film fails to, and in doing so transcends the clutches of gender expectations in the film and in a genre that is so often besotted by explicit or implicit gendered presumptions.

Sheila E.’s Agency as an Artist in ‘Krush Groove’ and Beyond by Tara Betts

But Sheila E. represents a woman’s creative musical power in an early hip hop film dominated by male artists. … As we consider hip hop’s presence in U.S. films and documentaries spanning the globe, it is also reasonable to consider that Sheila E. has one of the biggest roles for a woman that was written in the spate of films that began portraying hip hop culture.

Ripley, Sexism, and Classism in ‘Aliens’ by Adam Sherman

One of the most enduring female action heroes in the 80s is Ellen Ripley. In the 1979 movie Alien, we were introduced to her as a competent, no-nonsense space trucker who survived where the rest of her crew did not. However, it was not until 1986 that her status as a female badass was truly confirmed in the follow-up, Aliens. Yet, in-universe, it took Ripley much of the movie to gain any respect. The mix of classism and sexism Ripley faced is something that I think made many women identify with her even more.

‘The Fog’: 5 Women, an Environmental Crisis, and No Forecast for Friendship by ThoughtPusher

Before watching the movie with a more critical lens, I reminisced that these strong female characters drove the community response to crisis as they began to interact and even came to depend on each other. … But upon further examination, these characters only come together in a geographic sense rather than develop significant strength through the social bonds of supporting each other. … It seems like The Fog exposes the idea that strong women can’t have any meaningful relationships that might endure and even help them survive and understand themselves better through tough times.

Rethinking ‘Say Anything’ and the Film’s Actual Protagonist Diane Court by Charlotte Orzel

The problem isn’t that audiences misremember Lloyd Dobler; it’s that they forget about Diane Court. Even though the two characters share the screen more or less equally, Diane (Ione Skye) is often treated more as a love interest than a romantic lead. … Not only is Diane an equal player in the action; she’s the film’s protagonist. While we spend a great deal of time with Lloyd, the movie’s story is structured around Diane’s life. … While Diane has a clear narrative of growth, Lloyd is a static character.

Black Women in 1980s Horror Films: Tokenism and Regression by Ashlee Blackwell

However, I do thoroughly enjoy and sometimes defend 80s horror and the Black (female) characters I can find, but it’s crucial to examine the narrow confines of their characterization. … The 80s opened up a dialogue about where Black women’s place was not only in society, but in horror. Katrina demonstrates a stark fear of “the Other” who dwells beyond the parameters of the safe, White institutions, Sheila is a marker of assimilation and the rise of the Black middle class with a Huxtable like allure, while also being a Black girl nerd we like, and Epiphany is rooted in a past that Reagan’s message to America desired; a return to the good ‘ole days when miscegenation was taboo if not illegal.

Historical vs. Modern Abortion Narratives in ‘Dirty Dancing’ and ‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High’

Given this climate, it is somewhat surprising that two mainstream Hollywood films, ‘Dirty Dancing’ and ‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High,’ would take progressive approaches to a topic like reproductive justice. While ‘Dirty Dancing’ remembers the realities of abortion pre-Roe v. Wade and illustrates the role that class plays in access to abortion, ‘Fast Times at Ridgemont High’ shows a main character who exercises her right to choose without trauma or punishment, while managing to keep a relatively light tone.

This guest post written by Tessa Racked appears as part of our theme week on Ladies of the 1980s.

The political and cultural landscape of the United States in the 1980s was widely characterized by conservativism, reflected in cinema by the popularity of glossy action films like Top Gun and Lethal Weapon that glorify violent masculinity and the institutions that enable it. This trend was partly influenced by a backlash against the 1970s, including the rise of feminism in popular consciousness. Given this climate, it is somewhat surprising that two mainstream Hollywood films, Dirty Dancing and Fast Times at Ridgemont High, would take progressive approaches to a topic like reproductive justice. While Dirty Dancing remembers the realities of abortion pre-Roe v. Wade and illustrates the role that class plays in access to abortion, Fast Times at Ridgemont High shows a main character who exercises her right to choose without trauma or punishment, while managing to keep a relatively light tone. (If there’s another film that accomplishes the latter feat in the 32 years between Fast Times and Obvious Child, please mention it in the comments section because I certainly couldn’t think of one.)

Dirty Dancing (written by Eleanor Bergstein) is very much characterized by its historical setting. Our protagonist is Frances “Baby” Houseman (Jennifer Grey) the youngest daughter in a family on summer vacation in 1963. In her opening narration, Baby describes the time period as “when everyone called me ‘Baby’ and it didn’t occur to me to mind, before President Kennedy was shot… and I thought I’d never find a guy as great as my dad.” These are the last days of innocence, both for her and her society — remembered with nostalgia, but also the recognition that it came with some serious misconceptions about how the world works. Baby is good-hearted and idealistic, but has lived a sheltered life. She is caught between her desires to “save the world” by joining the Peace Corps, inspired by her father Dr. Houseman, and her obedience to her aforementioned family’s expectation that she settle down with a respectable (i.e. upper middle class) man, like the resort owner’s snobby grandson Neil. Baby has been raised to do the right thing, but within the boundaries of her status as a good (i.e. upper middle class) girl. This means abstaining from socializing with the working class resort staff, who turn out to be the very people who both need Baby’s help when one of them needs access to abortion, and in turn facilitate her own maturation.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High (directed by Amy Heckerling) is also situated in a specific historical point, due to it being a very modern film for 1982. The first scene takes us to the pinnacle of cool teen hangouts, the mall, and is set to the Go-Gos’ 1981 hit “We Got the Beat.” Depictions of femininity are filtered through a viewpoint that values modernity and autonomy. Freshman Stacy Hamilton (Jennifer Jason Leigh) worries that she isn’t as attractive to men as her classmates who dress like Pat Benatar, and chooses to be sexually active as part of exploring maturation. Scenes of her engaging in sex are relatively explicit (she is fully nude in one scene), but filmed in such a straightforward way that the titillation factor for the audience is minimized. There are two minor characters who are Black, but otherwise, the cast is homogeneously white and middle-class, putting the gender dynamics between characters in a relative vacuum free of intersectionality, unlike the room that Dirty Dancing makes for consciousness around class. The structure of the film makes the abortion narrative more progressive. Stacy is one of the protagonists, and the one who chooses to terminate her own pregnancy. The parallel of this story with those of the other main characters — Rat has a crush on her, Brad can’t hold down a job, Spicoli goofs off in history class — serves to normalize abortion, depicting it as a situation that some teenagers have to go through and may cause stress, but is not a cause of major trauma or drama.

Where Fast Times at Ridgemont High is very blatant in its depictions of sexuality, both in characters’ conversations and sexual interactions with each other, Dirty Dancing frequently uses dancing as a metaphor for eroticism. While engaged in a tame, awkward mambo with Neil, Baby and the audience both get the first glimpse of dance instructors Johnny and Penny (Cynthia Rhodes). Johnny and Penny impress the guests with a flamboyant mambo that quickly turns into an illustration of power dynamics at the resort. Resort owner Max Kellerman quickly shuts down their performance; they meekly part each other’s company to teach more conservative dance steps to guests. As dance and sexuality are linked in the film, the boss’ control over when and how Johnny and Penny dance parallel the social control that individual male characters and patriarchal society hold over both Penny and Baby.

Later that evening, Baby sneaks off to a staff party where she’s exposed to the titular dirty dancing, sharply contrasting the scene on the guests’ dance floor. “Kids are doing it in their basements back home,” staff member Billy tells Baby when she asks how they learned their hip-gyrating moves. Soon after, we discover that Penny is pregnant and wants to get an abortion. Again, the historical setting becomes key: as the movie is set before Roe v. Wade, Penny’s access to abortion is highly limited due to its legal status. Billy knows of a practicing abortionist, but the $250 fee that it costs (equivalent to $2,000 in 2016) is more than Penny can afford. She has been impregnated by Robbie, who straddles the Kellerman’s class divide. As a waiter, he can party with the staff (and have sex with Penny), but unlike Johnny and Penny, who depend on their salaries to survive, Robbie is a med student who is saving up for a sports car and flirts with Baby’s older sister Lisa, with the approval of their parents and Max Kellerman. He also refuses to support Penny in getting an abortion. “I didn’t blow a summer hauling bagels just to bail out some chick who probably slept with every guy here… some people count and some people don’t,” he tells Baby before trying to clarify his point by offering her a copy of The Fountainhead he carries in his back pocket (no seriously, that happens).

This exchange between Baby and Robbie illustrates some key points that Dirty Dancing makes. It reinforces the inaccessibility of abortion at this point: for characters with lower-paying jobs, it means the bulk of the summer’s wages, whether that means no sports car or no food. It also highlights the oppressive repercussions of the prevailing middle-class values of the day. Robbie aligns himself with the the “people who matter,” by feeling entitled to walk away from his responsibilities, letting less privileged staff take care of it. People mistakenly assume that Johnny impregnated Penny because of the support he shows her; not only has Robbie dumped sole responsibility for the pregnancy on Penny, he has left Johnny in the role of “father.” His reasoning for this entitlement? Penny must be a “slut,” and therefore isn’t worthy of respect. Once Penny grows to trust Baby, she tells her in a vulnerable moment: “I want you to know that I don’t sleep around… I thought he loved me. I thought it was something special.” This scene is a plea for the audience’s respect and sympathy for Penny as much as it is Penny wanting respect and sympathy from Baby. If she had sex with Robbie because she was deceived on some level, she becomes a victim, making her choice to have an abortion more acceptable. Even her decision to have sex with him becomes more acceptable because she did it for love, as opposed to a more casual desire.

Gaining access to abortion for Penny involves both supplicating and subverting the more privileged characters in the film, Dr. Houseman in particular. Baby procures the money from her father by rebelling against her role as dutiful daughter through lying to him, and reassuring him that the money isn’t going towards anything illegal. But money isn’t the only barrier that Penny must overcome. The abortionist is only available on the night that she and Johnny are booked to perform at another resort. “Everybody works here,” Johnny frostily informs Baby when she asks if they can cancel the performance. World-saving Baby solves the problem by learning Penny’s dance routine and filling in for her at the performance (not to mention falling in love with Johnny over the course of their training montage). Unfortunately, the “real M.D.” that Penny was promised turns out to be a guy with “a dirty knife and a folding table.” Baby turns to her father for help saving Penny’s life.

Unlike Objectivist Robbie, Dr. Houseman treats Penny with kindness, saving her life and her ability to have children, but he is not as progressive in his values as Baby. He is rude to Johnny, assuming him to be the father, and forbids Baby to fraternize with him or Penny. His instincts are to prevent Baby from ending up like Penny, to keep her as pure and innocent as her nickname implies. However, when he discovers that Robbie is the one who got Penny “in trouble” and sees Johnny stand up for Baby (spoiler alert: nobody puts her in a corner), Dr. Houseman apologizes to Johnny for his rudeness and praises Baby’s dancing.

Unlike Penny being cast as a victim, Fast Times at Ridgemont High‘s Stacy straightforwardly experiments with sex for the first time. Encouraged by her older, more sexually experienced friend Linda (Phoebe Cates), she wants to be mature and desired by men. Her initial experiences are ambivalent; she actively pursues Ron and Damone, but actual sex with them is disappointing for her. Her sexual debut with Ron takes place in a dugout at an empty baseball field; the camera switches between closeups of her face and her point of view, looking not at her partner but at the graffiti on the dugout walls, obviously not getting much pleasure from sex with him. Both Ron and Damone are focused on their own pleasure and take no notice of her uncomfortable expressions or requests to slow down; after Damone ejaculates prematurely, he can’t leave her house fast enough. The film gives us a protagonist who engages in casual sex with two different men, and makes no apology about her decision to terminate the resulting pregnancy, demanding that the audience respect her decision if we are to remain on-board with her and her story.

Stacy’s access to abortion is remarkably simple. The decision completely excludes her parents (who are barely present in the film to begin with). Her abortion is a private matter between her and Damone. Once Stacy tells him that she’s pregnant and after he stops trying to deny his responsibility (like Robbie, he also tries to slut-shame himself out of responsibility, asking how she knows it’s his), he says that she has to get an abortion, only to discover that she already decided and scheduled the procedure. She asks him to pay half of the $150 fee and give her a ride to the clinic. Until this awkward conversation, the rest of the logistics have been easily planned.

The cost is still high for two young people but not as exorbitant as what Penny has to pay (assuming Fast Times takes place in 1981, it’s the present-day equivalent of about $430); also considering that both Stacy and Damone are high school students in a relatively affluent community, being set back $75 is probably not a crisis. There is a scene of Damone, who makes money by scalping concert tickets, trying unsuccessfully to call in debts in order to raise the $75. We see his list of expenses, with “abortion” listed above “Rod Stewart tickets?”; the stakes are not so high that some humor can’t be afforded. Additionally, the cost of the abortion is not an anomaly in the film. The other characters have money concerns as well: Rat panics when he takes Stacy to a nice restaurant but leaves his wallet at home. Brad goes through a series of jobs over the course of the school year that he needs to pay off his car. Damone is constantly negotiating prices with his customers. The struggle to pay for an expense without relying on one’s parents is an expected factor in the characters’ lives.

Likely due to his inability to raise the money, Damone fails to give Stacy a ride to the clinic, causing her distress and embarrassment. However, her problem is quickly solved as she lies to her brother Brad about needing a ride to the bowling alley across the street from the clinic. The drama of her getting the abortion is mildly heightened when she doesn’t have anyone to drive her home, but Brad saves the day by picking her up after the procedure is over.

Unlike Penny’s experience, the abortion is performed with little fanfare. The scene of the procedure itself is cut from the theatrical release, which shows Stacy in a clean, modern examination room being treated by the doctor and nurse with the same detached professionalism they would likely show any other patient. Unlike Penny’s near-death experience at the hands of a quack, Stacy is able to walk out of the clinic, and Brad promises not to tell their parents and quickly relents from asking her for details: “Come on! Who did it? You’re not going to tell me, are you? Okay, it’ll just be your secret.”

Linda, who gives Stacy advice about men throughout the film, seeks revenge for her after finding out that Damone didn’t follow through on his promise to give her a ride, graffitiing “prick” and “little prick” on his car and locker. His female classmates giggle at him as he passes by them in the hall to discover the message on his locker. He also comes close to losing a friend, as he and Rat almost come to blows when Rat confronts him over having sex with Stacy. Compare Damone’s public humiliation to Robbie’s comeuppance in Dirty Dancing: getting a pitcher of water thrown on him by Baby and losing the respect of Dr. Houseman, neither of whom he would likely never see again anyway.

Ultimately, Dirty Dancing treats Penny’s abortion as a historical artifact, a somber near-tragedy of a bygone era. While a sympathetic character who isn’t sacrificed on the altar of moral stances, Penny is hardly the focus of the film. If anything, her story is a springboard for Baby’s character development and romance with Johnny. She is well and happy at the end of the film, but just another face in the crowd supporting Johnny and Baby as they finally nail the lift that Penny could probably do in her sleep.

In Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Stacy’s abortion leads to personal growth. The experience doesn’t frighten Stacy away from sex per se, but it does incite her to reconsider what she wants from a relationship with a man. “I don’t want sex, anyone can have sex… I want a relationship, I want romance.” She achieves this goal by re-igniting her relationship with Rat. The epilogue informs us that the couple “are having a passionate love affair… but still haven’t gone all the way.”

From a reproductive justice standpoint, Penny’s story is an unnerving tale from a former era that tragically still threatens many people living today, should they seek an abortion. Stacy’s experience is one that should be available to anyone who wants it, both in terms of ease of access, safety, and perhaps most importantly, positioning people who want access to abortions as the self-determining protagonists of their own stories.

Tessa Racked blogs about fat characters in film at Consistent Panda Bear Shape. They have had “(I’ve Had) the Time of My Life” stuck in their head for over a week now.

Take Away This Lonely Man: ‘(500) Days of Summer’ and Musical Storytelling

We hear the song one more time in a moment that mimics the first, after Tom’s illusion is shattered. Instead of listing what he loves about Summer, Tom lists the things he hates about her, concluding with “It’s Like The Wind,” and yelling, “I hate this song!” The romantic illusions are finally cracked. This isn’t the movie he thought this was.

This guest post by Victoria Edel appears as part of our theme week on Movie Soundtracks.

“This is a story of boy meets girl.”

It’s the first line of (500) Days of Summer and also the first line spoken on the soundtrack. Both, then, begin with a summation of our two characters. There’s Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), the hopeless romantic who doesn’t understand the point of The Graduate, and Summer (Zooey Deschanel), who doesn’t believe in love. By beginning the soundtrack with this summary of the movie’s central conflict, (500) Days of Summer posits that the soundtrack is just as much of a storytelling tool as the movie is.

And it is.

(500) Days of Summer is a profoundly misunderstood film. I’ve spoken to many people who claimed Summer was the villain, or, perhaps even worse, just a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Even Joseph Gordon-Levitt has had to explain that Tom is selfish, not a romantic role model, as some misguided people have interpreted him .

Like the narrator says during Track 1, this is a story of boy meets girl, but this is not a love story. Instead, it’s a story about obsession, about idealizing other people, and about having the strength to rebuild after your worldview is shattered. Its message would be impossible without the soundtrack, which places us in Tom’s obsessive mind, music conveying the depth of his feeling. And then, it helps us understand his recovery.

The movie lulls us in with the sweet sounds of Regina Spektor’s “Us,” a song about a monumental love. Accompanied by photos and videos of Tom and Summer growing up, it’s dreamy and romantic, just like Tom when he meets Summer.

A quick plot summary to refresh your memory: Tom meets Summer. Tom wants to date Summer. Summer explicitly does not want a relationship. Tom and Summer embark on something more than friendship, but less than a relationship. Tom thinks he loves Summer. Tom insists that this is, in fact, a relationship. Summer calls the whole thing off. Tom is angry, until he realizes he was wrong.

Music is essential to the audience’s understanding of Tom’s feelings for Summer. The duo originally bond over their mutual love of The Smiths. Cue “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out”: “And if a ten-ton truck killed the both of us / to die by your side / well the pleasure and the privilege is mine.” That’s an intense feeling to have about anyone, let alone someone you just met. The song is about longing, about abandoning everything you have to.

The movie only works because while Tom is in the over-the-moon, in love stage, the audience is brought there with him. And the music is essential to creating this loving feeling. As they spend time together, we hear Carla Bruni’s “Quelqu’un M’a Dit,” so breathy and romantic and French, and “Sweet Disposition” by Temper Trap, excited and airy.

Then, after Tom and Summer finally have sex, he leaves his apartment and participates in an impromptu dance number to Hall & Oates’s “You Make My Dreams Come True,” complete with friendly strangers who join in and some animated birds. But this isn’t Tom celebrating getting laid. The lyrics give us his feelings: “You make my dreams come true.” Summer, he’s decided, is the culmination of the girl he’s always dreamed of, the true love he’s always wanted. With just music and dance, (500) Days of Summer tells us everything we need to know about Tom’s quick, rash, all-encompassing feelings.

When he describes how Summer makes him feel, he says every time he thinks of her he hears “She’s Like The Wind,” in his head. The Patrick Swayze song was recorded for Dirty Dancing, and used when Baby and Johnny part ways for what they think is forever. It’s a sad song to remember when you think of someone you love, but it does inform the way Tom sees his story. It’s romantic and dramatic, as classic as Baby and Johnny’s.

Until it’s not.

Thankfully, things are brighter by the end. Tom realizes that he tried to use Summer to mask his unhappiness, instead of changing his life. He finally dedicates himself to architecture — his original love — and we experience it in montage, accompanied by Wolfmother’s “Vagabond.” The lyrics: “Take away this lonely man. / Soon he will be gone.” The song is loud and sprawling and rhythmic, in sharp contrast to the romantic, soft songs from earlier in the film. Tom’s finally started to change.

This isn’t to say that Tom at the movie’s end doesn’t love the Smiths or believe in love; in fact, quite the opposite. Instead, he’s realized what a horrible thing it is to idealize another person, to project your hopes and dreams onto them without getting to know them. If we don’t know much about Summer by the film’s end, it’s because Tom didn’t learn that much about her either. He saw her as much as he wanted to, ignoring everything that didn’t fit into the picture.

And in the end he learns from his mistakes.

This is not a love story. It’s better than that.

Victoria Edel lives in Brooklyn, NY, but not the trendy part. The sitcoms is her one true love, so she’s currently watching every episode of 30 Rock and blogging about it here. Follow her on Twitter @victoriaedel.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Dirty Dancing

Dirty Dancing

This is a guest post by Meghan Harvey.

I was born in 1977, four years after Roe v. Wade became the law of the land. Though I would see the moral debate play out many times over the course of my life, the legality of a woman’s right to choose was always a non-issue in my mind. It was always just the law. When I say always, I truly mean always. I have absolutely no memory of learning what an abortion was, or why it was so important to have it legal. I just always knew. Mainly because I grew up in the post Roe v. Wade world.

Most women I know around my age (whether liberal or conservative) all agree that despite their personal feelings on abortion, that a woman has the right to choose. Most women all agree, it’s better legal. By better of course, I mean safer.

Part of growing up in this post Roe v. Wade world meant that for us the picture painted of life before Roe v. Wade was different. A world that existed before we were born and it was not a pretty one. No movie or pop culture moment painted that picture clearer than the 80s classic, Dirty Dancing.

For most girls my age it was the first time we saw what “abortion” meant in the days before Roe v. Wade. It was simply “a dirty knife and a folding table.”

For those of you who are not familiar with the legendary movie, here is the main gist of it in a nutshell. Dirty Dancing takes place in upstate New York’s Catskill Mountains in 1963. Frances “Baby” Houseman is visiting Kellerman’s summer resort with her family for the summer before starting college in the fall. Baby, a rich privileged girl with a strong sense of right and wrong, meets Johnny the dance instructor from the wrong side of the tracks with the heart of gold.

When Penny, Johnny’s dance partner, finds herself pregnant Baby steps in to take her place on the dance floor while Penny has a back-alley abortion that almost kills her. Not only does Baby cover for Penny, she also gets the money to pay for the abortion from her Dr. father (without telling him what it’s for).

Many of you who have seen the movie a hundred thousand times like I have may very well be reading that description and realizing that the abortion storyline, though not actually the main part of the movie, is the cornerstone of the movie. Without it there is no movie.

Penny, after discovering she’s pregnant

In fact the film’s screenwriter and producer Eleanor Bergstein was asked by a potential national sponsor (an acne cream company) to remove the abortion storyline from the film out of fear of a backlash and protests. Bergstein told them, “Oh, I’d be so happy to, but as it happens, it’s so into the plot that if I took it out, there’s no reason for Baby to learn to dance. There’s no reason for her to dance with Johnny, to dance at the Sheldrake, to fall in love with him, to make love with him, so the whole plot falls apart, so I can’t do it.” The sponsor pulled out and the abortion stayed in.

An abortion to most of us was an icky medical procedure. You went to a doctor and had it done, end of story. I for one was still too young to understand the moral debate or logistics of abortion, just that it was something that happened.

Dirty Dancing opened an entire generation’s eyes to the fact that it had not always been that simple. For the first time we were seeing it described as being done by a man with a “a dirty knife and a folding table.” Penny’s screams are described as being heard all the way down the hall.

Those screams in Dirty Dancing were the first time my generation would hear those screams and understand that the right to choose was not something that had always been ours. It was the first time that we opened our minds to the reality that illegal abortions were deadly, dangerous and horrific. Suddenly to a generation of young girls the protests outside abortion clinics that were so prevalent at the time seemed different. Suddenly it occurred to us, in the simplest way, that these people protesting must not have seen Dirty Dancing.

They must not have seen the Pennys of the world. Women who didn’t have health insurance, support, or a job with maternity leave. Women who didn’t even the money for an abortion, let alone to give birth to a child. Penny was not perfect, but she was not an evil harlot either. She was a woman in a hopeless situation with no choices. Not that different than our aunts, big sisters, or even our moms. In another time, we could have been Penny. But on some level, my generation understood that part of the message of the movie was just that. No, we would never be Penny. Our generation would never have to face the dirty knife and folding table down the hall. We were the lucky ones, and Dirty Dancing ensured our entire generation understood that.

Eventually that first experience of what a back-alley abortion actually was would help us understand later that the debate raging was much more simple than Women’s Rights. Much less official than Roe v. Wade. Dirty Dancing made that first picture of abortion something that had nothing to do with moral or constitutional implications. There is no discussion in Dirty Dancing about when a fetus becomes a life. In fact Baby’s father, the Doctor, never says one word about whether abortions are right or wrong, just that they are illegal.

This debate was about our lives.

A few years after Dirty Dancing came out I entered high school and took a debate class. One of my first debates was debating whether Roe v. Wade should be reversed or not. I stood up in front of my class and described in detail what a back-alley abortion was. I explained how it was the leading cause of death for young women before 1973. I told the story of the real Pennys of the world. I won the debate.

I have a vintage Dirty Dancing shirt that I like to wear. On the back it has the most famous line from the movie, “No one puts Baby in a corner!” Though what that line means to each one of us may differ, as an adult today I can’t help but think that it’s a line symbolic for all women. It sums up the lesson on abortion that is told throughout the movie.

Our lives mean something. Our choices mean something. And we do not deserve to be pushed into a dark corner to sit quietly. Its not just Baby, it’s all of us.

None of us deserves to be put in a corner.

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Meghan Harvey is a blogger, New Media Manager, Mom, and 80s movie obsessed women out the Bay Area. She contributes to SheHeroes.org, Life360.com, MOMocrats, and her personal blog Meg’s Idle Chatter. You can find her on Twitter at @Meghan1018.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: The Dancer’s Dilemma

Dirty Dancing poster

This is a guest review by Myrna Waldron.

I was less than a year old when Dirty Dancing came out. It is known for the chemistry between its stars, incredible choreography, and a fantastic soundtrack that balances the sounds of the 60s and the 80s. It’s a typical coming-of-age story, but one of the less-discussed plot points in the film is how it approaches the consequences of an unintended pregnancy during a time in which abortion was still illegal (The film takes place in 1963). As a lifelong fan of the film, Dirty Dancing was my first introduction to the issues of abortion. The film is incredibly progressive in its depiction of Penny Johnson (Cynthia Rhodes), a dancer forced to face the most difficult of decisions, and makes a very strong illustration of the consequences of illegal abortions.

In her introductory scenes where she is dancing a mambo with the main love interest, Johnny Castle (Patrick Swayze), Penny explodes on the screen as a vision of raw sexuality and incredible talent. Frances “Baby” Houseman (Jennifer Grey) is instantly awed and envious of Penny’s dancing abilities, and attempts to befriend her. One of the major themes of Dirty Dancing is its class distinctions, and the dancers are under especially strict orders from their boss not to get too close to the wealthy families staying at the resort. Penny’s responses to Baby are thus aloof, but she still reveals a tremendous amount of background information; Penny’s mother kicked her out of the house at 16, and she has been dancing ever since because it was the only thing she ever wanted to do. Penny has thus been established as someone of low income, with no familial support. The subtext of Penny’s backstory is that dancing for her is her only means of income; she does not see herself as having any other abilities.

Cynthia Rhodes as Penny Johnson in Dirty Dancing

When Penny’s pregnancy is discovered, she is shown curled up in a darkened corner, shivering and sobbing. Her only friends at the resort, Johnny and his cousin Billy, instantly figure out what is wrong just from Baby’s report of Penny’s frightened and desperate state. It is an important aspect of Penny and Johnny’s characters that, despite the intense sexuality of their dance routines, they maintain a sibling-like platonic relationship. As Johnny goes to Penny’s aid, he mutters, “Penny just doesn’t think.” Despite this statement coming from a loved one, Johnny’s reaction mirrors a common sentiment that women should bear all the blame for an unintended pregnancy, that not getting pregnant is their responsibility alone. However, when he finds her, he tells her “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you,” showing that despite his angry outburst, he cares about her enough to give any assistance that he can.

Johnny offers the last of his salary to pay for Penny’s abortion. Notably, the option for keeping the baby or giving it up for adoption is never discussed. There are several reasons for this. First and most obviously, Penny cannot continue the strenuous dancing routines if she is pregnant. She would lose her sole source of income, and would have nothing to pay for care for herself or the baby. Second, if news of her pregnancy gets out, she would be instantly fired, and would lose the important reference that working at the resort gains her. Third, the father is Robbie Gould (Max Cantor), a young waiter who is currently courting Baby’s sister Lisa (Jane Brucker). Although extremely wealthy and handsome, Robbie is manipulative and selfish. When Baby confronts him and asks for money to pay for the abortion, he denies paternity and implies that Penny is promiscuous, which is another example of the condemnation of class distinctions in the film. Penny explains that she believed that Robbie loved her, and that she was “something special.” A woman who has no family, no real career prospects and is constantly belittled by her employers can quite believably become seduced by someone like Robbie. The film thus makes an important point about culpability – the poor, lonely and insecure Penny must bear all the blame and responsibility for the pregnancy, while the fortunate Robbie gets off scott-free.

Patrick Swayze and Cynthia Rhodes

Another important analysis of class distinction occurs in the film when the financial consequences of a back-alley abortion are discussed. Not only can neither Penny, Johnny nor Billy afford to pay for the abortion, Penny can’t take the day off to visit the abortionist. The abortionist is only in the area on one particular day, but Penny and Johnny are scheduled to perform at another hotel. There is no one who can take her place. Baby, established as a bit of an altruist, not only gets the money from her wealthy doctor father, but volunteers to learn Penny’s routine so she can get the procedure done. All three resort employees are shocked and guilty about accepting Baby’s kindness, as they are used to wealthy people exploiting them and treating them as sub-human. The romance plot is kicked off as Baby rehearses the routine with Johnny.

Unfortunately, the most frightening hazard of illegal abortion is that those who perform back-alley abortions are not certified doctors, and are under no regulations to use sterile equipment, anesthesia, or to perform the procedure safely. Outlawing abortion does not prevent abortions in any way – as we see in this film, if the woman is desperate enough, she will end the pregnancy regardless of the legal implications. Penny is thus locked in a room with an abortionist with a folding table and a “dirty knife.” Billy tries to come to her aid, but she is at the mercy of the abortionist and he must endure her screams of pain. Billy brings her home, and Penny refuses the help of a hospital as they would call the police. She is obviously dying, and is moaning in pain and clutching her abdomen. Baby goes to find her father, who is skilled enough to not only save Penny’s life, but also tells her that she can still have children. Her relief and joy at this news is an important aspect of her character, as it shows that this abortion was done because it was not the right time in her life to have a child, and that she had no choice in the matter. It is implied that someday, when Penny’s dancing career is over, she will have children when she is ready.

Penny in bed, following her abortion

Baby’s father, Dr. Houseman, seems to have conflicted morals, and serves a good example of someone who may not approve of abortion, but still shows compassion for women who require the procedure. He tells Baby that he doesn’t want her associating with “those people” (referring to Penny and Johnny) again, showing a protective streak and indirectly comparing the virginal and wealthy Baby to the poor “bad girl” Penny. However, when treating Penny’s condition, he speaks to her kindly, continues to make checkups on her despite his being on vacation, and happily converses with her at the finale. So despite his obvious disapproval of Penny’s choices, he sees her as a patient first, and makes her recovery his primary concern.

The purpose of legalized abortion is not only to give women like Penny a choice, but also to ensure their safety. It is very telling that class distinctions still exist (and are perhaps stronger than ever) in that wealthy lawmakers continue to blame perceived promiscuity for unintended pregnancies, and wish to force women to bear children as a punishment or consequence for their actions. If Penny had continued this pregnancy, she would have had absolutely no way to care for the child. She may have made a mistake in sleeping with Robbie, but why should she be “punished” and he not? Most importantly, keeping abortion legal and fully accessible saves the life of the mother. There are enough restrictions on abortion already – the doctors are only available on certain days in certain areas, some states require the woman to wait an extra 24 hours just to make sure they’re “certain” (Hint: They wouldn’t be there if they weren’t sure.), abortions are expensive, etc. Women like Penny should not have to risk their lives in order to ensure that they have control over their lives and their bodies. Before abortion was legalized in the US and Canada, women often died from the procedure. Women will get abortions whether or not they’re legal, because sometimes they have no other choice. I am sure I am preaching to the choir when I speak of the lessons I have learned from Penny’s story in Dirty Dancing, but part of me wonders if there would be more support for keeping abortion legal and accessible if lawmakers showed a little compassion, watched this film again, and thought about the real women whose lives mirror Penny’s.

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Myrna Waldron is a 25-year-old pop culture buff who loves to let off a good rant. She regularly tweets at @SoapboxingGeek, and is going to pretend the upcoming Dirty Dancing remake doesn’t exist.