Tag: Fat Shaming

Lena Dunham and the Creator’s “Less-Than-Perfect” Body On-Screen

Every time someone calls to question the fact that Lena Dunham parades her rolls of fat in front of her audience, we need to examine why they’re questioning it. Is it because they’re wondering how it serves the narrative of ‘Girls’? Or is it because they’re balking at “less-than-perfection” (according to normative societal conventions) in the female form?

Lena Dunham 'Girls'

This guest post written by Sarah Halle Corey appears as part of our theme week on Women Directors.

A lot has been said about Lena Dunham’s body. So much has been said, in fact, that upon a simple Google search of “lena dunham body,” I was overwhelmed with viable links to embed in this post. There are articles praising her positive body image and sharing of TMI, and other articles disparaging her for showing so much flabby skin, and even more articles questioning if we should even be talking about her body at all.

Dunham created and stars in the series Girls, a show on which she often presents her own naked body. She’s appeared naked on-screen countless times throughout the series’ five season run, and often in hyper-realistic situations: awkward sex, rolling out of bed in the morning, etc. And every time, Dunham’s “less-than-perfect” (according to normative societal conventions) body is showcased. It’s not uncommon for nudity to be a hot topic among media pundits and amateur critics alike. How much is too much? How much is too little? How does it serve the story? So when a supposed “less-than-perfect” naked body like Dunham’s is presented, it’s outside the norm and people rush to comment all the more because of that.

It makes sense that people love to discuss the bodies of actors: their bodies are displayed in front of us, something to observe and interpret just like the the sets and camera angles that are also presented on screen. Each frame of a movie or TV show is filled with choices that the director made, choices that the director wants the audience to see and connect to some meaning or vision. But what happens when the director makes herself – her body, specifically – one of those on-screen choices?

Every time someone calls to question the fact that Dunham parades her rolls of fat in front of her audience, we need to examine why they’re questioning it. Is it because they’re wondering how it serves the narrative of Girls? Or is it because they’re balking at “less-than-perfection” in the female form? These two issues often get conflated.

And then, when Dunham goes to defend her choice, she often needs to approach it from both perspectives. Dunham is both the creator and the creation itself, the sculptor and the slab of marble. So, not only must she defend the creative choice as a director, but also the existence of her own “less-than-perfect” body as a woman. Her defense is both an artistic one and a personal one.

In a way, Dunham’s predicament is representative of a lot of defenses that women creators find themselves being forced to make. Often times, female creators are seen as women first, creators second. The fact that Dunham puts her body, and thus a part of her womanhood, at the forefront of her art, just makes the defense all the more blatant for her. Women directors often need to take a stand to justify their art, and for Dunham that includes her body too.

By combining the director and her work into one, Dunham simply crystallizes the power of the creator in connection to her creation. Art is personal, and no one exemplifies that more than Lena Dunham.

See also at Bitch Flicks: Lena Dunham, Slenderman and the Terror of ‘Girls’; Let’s All Take a Deep Breath and Calm the Fuck Down About Lena Dunham

Recommended Reading: Considering All “Sides” of the Lena Dunham Debacle: A Reading List

Sarah Halle Corey is a writer, filmmaker, and digital content creator who produces work about pop culture, feminism, feelings, and everything in between. You can find her work at sarahhallecorey.com. Sarah is usually drinking way too much coffee and/or tweeting @SarahHalleCorey.

Bourgie White People Problems and Fat Shaming in ‘Enough Said’

To put it bluntly, I hated ‘Enough Said.’ The theme was trite, the characters were insufferable with their selfish pretensions, and there was a whole lot of fat shaming going on. Frankly, I’m surprised that Julia Louis-Dreyfus has been getting such high praise for starring in this turd, and I’m disappointed that I can’t be more supportive of a film written and directed by a woman: Nicole Holofcener.

"Enough Said" Movie Poster
Enough Said Movie Poster

 

Though guest writer Heather Brown wrote a Bitch Flicks review of Enough Said, I felt compelled to weigh in because my opinion of the film was the exact opposite. To put it bluntly, I hated this movie. The theme was trite, the characters were insufferable with their selfish pretensions, and there was a whole lot of fat shaming going on. Frankly, I’m surprised that Julia Louis-Dreyfus has been getting such high praise for starring in this turd, and I’m disappointed that I can’t be more supportive of a film written and directed by a woman: Nicole Holofcener.

 

Director Nicole Holofcener with stars Julie Louis-Dreyfus & Catherine Keener.
Director Nicole Holofcener with stars Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Catherine Keener.

 

Though I’d love to congratulate a female writer and director (especially one who employed kickass actresses like Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Catherine Keener, and Toni Collette), the storyline itself fell flat. Enough Said is about a massage therapist who ends up dating a man while giving massages to his ex-wife. Once she learns of the connection, she continues to probe the ex for information about her new beau despite the moral ambiguity of building a false friendship and essentially spying on her new boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a snore-fest sitcom episode of misadventure where you know the guilty party will be found out in the end and then realize the error of their ways? Well, that’s pretty much what happens. The themes admirably touch on the desire to make smarter relationship choices, to understand why relationships fail, and to avoid committing to the wrong person. In the end, though, the film claims that relationships, human compatibility, and chemistry are all a mystery…that over-thinking it doesn’t do us any favors. Talk about making a really simple point seem complex enough to warrant an entire movie. It’s also a very privileged upper-crusty perspective. Breaking out of destructive or abusive relationship cycles does require a good deal of introspection, honest analysis of choices, and recognition of personal patterns as well as a willingness and commitment to change. This movie basically pisses on the reality of the lives of people who aren’t wealthy (or at least financially comfortable), straight, white people. It pisses on the people who’ve faced major life struggles, crises, and trauma.

 

Vapid friends and friendships.
Vapid friends and friendships.

 

Speaking of which, the cast of characters is astoundingly shallow and self-involved with boring upper class bored-people pseudo-problems. Main character Eva’s best friend, Sarah, obsessively rearranges the furniture in her house and can’t bring herself to fire her (of course) Latin maid. Sarah’s husband, Will, has the least interesting or complicated case of middle child syndrome ever; he is simply obsessed with fairness.

 

Eva probes Marianne for dirt on her new boyfriend (& Marianne's ex-husband) Albert.
Eva probes Marianne for dirt on her new boyfriend (and Marianne’s ex-husband) Albert.

 

Eva’s new friend, Marianne, reveals that her marriage failed because she was annoyed by her husband Albert’s (played by James Gandolfini) annoying little habits and his weight.

 

Is there such a thing as oblivious daughter replacement syndrome? Eva's got it.
Is there such a thing as oblivious daughter replacement syndrome? Eva’s got it.

 

Eva herself comes off as sweet at first, but we learn she hates most of her massage clients, is selfishly and obliviously trying to replace her daughter, Ellen, who is going off to college with one of Ellen’s friends. Plus, she cultivates a faux-friendship with Marianne just to get dirt on Albert, which she then uses to humiliate him at a dinner party.

 

Eva gets drunk and humiliates Albert, the only nice person in the film.
Eva gets drunk and humiliates Albert, the only nice person in the film.

 

Eva’s behavior at that dinner party sealed the deal for me. I wanted her to get everything that was coming to her. I wanted the incredibly sweet, gentle, intelligent Albert to realize he was dating a horrible person and ditch her ass. Eva’s callous treatment of Albert doesn’t end with her general mockery of his inability to whisper or her distaste for the way he eats guacamole. No, she fat shames him in front of her friends. Fat shaming is never okay, but this seems particularly cruel because Albert sheepishly admitted to her beforehand that he has a complicated relationship with his weight and wants to lose some. She picked a very sensitive point of insecurity for Albert and exploited it because she was insecure about their relationship and about how people would think of her for dating a fat person. How is that ever okay or forgivable? If Eva had been a male character and Albert was female, would people be so quick to excuse that fat shaming? I hope not. Not only that, but Eva is ignorant. She is oblivious to the struggles of people who navigate the world with bodies different from her own, bodies of which the world doesn’t approve. How is her fat shaming any better than if she’d mocked Albert had he been a person of color, trans*, or differently abled? It is not different. She is an inexcusable bigot.

 

Eva is appalled by the way Albert eats popcorn when they go see a movie.
Eva is appalled by the way Albert eats popcorn when they go see a movie.

 

What it boils down to is that the character problems in Enough Said are a function of class. They say more about how much money and comfort these people have than about the state of the human condition. Movies that advocate for hateful bigots like Enough Said‘s fat shamers, even the ones who learn their lesson in the end (can you say Shallow Hal?), appeal to people who have “isms” of their own. Seeing a lead character bully another character due to their marginalized status (whatever it may be) allows the audience to vicariously indulge in that behavior and to vicariously feel solidarity in the character’s eventual contrition. It doesn’t necessarily help the audience inhabit the Othered, marginalized character.

Albert and Eva kiss
Albert and Eva kiss

Another important point that I’ve been dying to make for years is: Understated performances from people who’re typically in comedies…does not good acting make.  I’m so tired of people “breaking out” of their comedy typecast to reap countless praise for roles that simply didn’t have them laughing or cracking jokes or…emoting. I’m thinking of Jennifer Aniston in The Good Girl, almost every Jim Carrey, Bill Murray, or Adam Sandler “serious movie” ever made. Acting like a normal human being isn’t range. Don’t get me wrong, I think Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a stellar actress, but I don’t think bourgie, fat-shaming, linoleum Enough Said showed that.

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Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.