Tag: Female Agency

Is Pepper Potts No Longer the "Damsel in Distress" in ‘Iron Man 3’?

Movie poster for Iron Man 3

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: Lots of spoilers ahead!

Superhero films often exhibit assertive, outspoken female characters. Yet they often simultaneously objectify women’s bodies, reduce them to ancillary love interests or perpetuate gender stereotypes. So when I heard that Pepper Potts would have a more active role in Iron Man 3, I was excited yet remained cautiously skeptical.

Gwyneth Paltrow eagerly talked about putting on the Iron Man suit and getting tired of the “damsel in distress”:
“I was really hoping that Pepper would be more engaged in this movie…So I was really happy, not only that she was wearing the suit, but that you see her really on equal ground with Tony in their interpersonal dynamic, and as a CEO, and then she’s got all this action… I think in order to move things forward and keep it fresh, you can only be the damsel in distress for so long, and then it’s old.”
Producer and Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige also said they wanted to “play with the convention of the damsel in distress…there is fun to be had with “Is Pepper in danger or is Pepper the savior?” over the course of this movie.” Okay, okay, this all sounds awesome to me. 
Now I’m all for subverting gender norms. But is Pepper really empowered? Or does she really remain a rearticulation of the Damsel in Distress trope?
When Pepper puts on the Iron Man suit, it’s not of her own volition. It’s not because she cleverly thought of it. Tony, who can now recall his arsenal of Iron Man suits on command, remotely puts it on Pepper to save her during an attack. Once she’s in the suit of armor, Pepper does make the most of it as she gets scientist Maya (who of course has to have had a sexual past with Tony) to safety and protects Tony from a falling ceiling as well.

Tony Stark
However, when Gwyneth Paltrow discussed putting on the suit, I envisioned an assertive move by Pepper — that she boldly decides to put on the armor so she can go out and save Tony. Not something she passively has placed on her body by a man. What could have been an interesting exploration of Pepper and gender becomes a wasted opportunity.

Just because Pepper donned the Iron Man suit for like two minutes, doesn’t mean she isn’t a “damsel in distress.” She still is for a majority of the film. Archvillian Aldrich Killian kidnaps Pepper and ties her up, using her as bait to lure Tony and blackmail him. Yep, that sounds like a passive damsel to me.

In Iron Man, Pepper is Tony’s personal assistant and according to him, his only true friend. In Iron Man 2, she becomes the CEO of Stark Industries. By The Avengers, they co-exist as a team, partners both in romance and work as Pepper helps Tony develop Stark Tower and the Arc Reactor. In each film, Pepper grows and progresses to have a more important role. So how did Pepper — Tony’s friend, partner and brilliant CEO of Stark Industries — get reduced to an objectified and victimized “damsel in distress” yet again?
Gwyneth Paltrow in Iron Man 3

Discussing the Damsel in Distress Trope in video games, although it’s also completely applicable for film too, Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency talks about how the trope provides incentive and motivation for the male protagonist. The trope is also a form of objectification and is not synonymous with “weak” but rather a form of disempowering women, even strong ones, while empowering men:
“So the damsel trope typically makes men the “subject” of the narratives while relegating women to the “object.” This is a form of objectification because as objects, damsel’ed women are being acted upon, most often becoming or reduced to a prize to be won, a treasure to be found or a goal to be achieved…The damsel in distress is not just a synonym for “weak,” instead it works by ripping away the power from female characters, even helpful or seemingly capable ones. No matter what we are told about their magical abilities, skills or strengths they are still ultimately captured or otherwise incapacitated and then must wait for rescue. Distilled down to its essence, the plot device works by trading the disempowerment of female characters FOR the empowerment of male characters.”

Surprisingly, as it revolves around Tony, Iron Man 3 passes the Bechdel Test. Huzzah! A brief conversation transpires between Pepper and Maya, the botanist who invented the Extremis virus. Maya laments being naïve about science, just wanting to help people and how her ideals became distorted. Pepper reassures her, telling her that Stark Industries once carried out military contracts so she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. What a nice moment. But don’t get too cozy. This moment of sisterly bonding shatters when Maya betrays Pepper. Sidebar, it’s interesting that Maya has a change of heart not after talking to Pepper but after talking to Tony later in the film.

There’s a telling exchange near the end of the film when Killian tells Tony he injected Pepper with the Extremis virus because he wanted to make Pepper perfect. Tony, ever the good boyfriend, retorts, “That’s where you’re wrong. She already was perfect.” This could have been a nice albeit clichéd message about accepting and appreciating people how they are, rather than trying to change them. But 5 minutes later, when Pepper asks if she’s going to be alright because she’s got the unstable virus in her, Tony says he’s going to “fix” her because that’s what he does, he “fixes things.” Ahhh the mechanic imagery strewn throughout the film comes full circle.

Gwyneth Paltrow in the Iron Man suit

It’s a strange juxtaposition between “she’s perfect the way she is” and “I’ll fix you,” especially in proximity to one another. This dialogue could have easily been altered to show Pepper’s agency — that either she wanted to keep the virus and harness the superpower or have it removed. We could have seen things from her perspective. But instead, it’s all to convey how Tony is decisive and protective of his woman and how he’s grown emotionally.

Taking place after The Avengers, we see a changed Tony Stark. Due to the stress of combating aliens and traveling through worm holes, Tony suffers anxiety, insomnia and PTSD. I was pleasantly surprised at the film’s respectful depiction of mental illness. Although its treatment of people with disabilities is abhorrent. We see the weight of Tony’s obsession creating Iron Man suits straining their relationship. Pepper is frustrated that his suits come before her. But they never resolve their issues. It’s as if Pepper said, “Oh I almost died, got injected with some fiery shit and now you fixed me? Okay, we’re good now!” Um, no. 
So what’s the lesson here? Don’t worry, ladies. The right man will fix you and all your problems. 
Pepper isn’t an empowered, self-actualized character in Iron Man 3. Instead she’s used as an object for the two dudes to fight over. She’s used to show that Killian is a villain who never really loved her while she’s used as an incentive for Tony to fight and to realize what truly matters in life. Tony and Killian battle it out with Pepper as a trophy to the victor, aka the better dude. 
As film critic Scott Mendelson said: “For Potts, the movie was about other men giving her temporary agency/power and then quickly taking it away again.” Despite her intelligence and success, she possesses no agency of her own. Men bestowed power upon Pepper. Any power she appears to exert stems from men. Now some superheroes (Spiderman, Wolverine) have their powers given to them by others, either by accident or against their will. But once they have their powers, they decide what to do with them. They decide through their intelligence or cunning how best to utilize their powers. But Tony and Killian make all the decisions for Pepper. She doesn’t make any for herself. Pepper doesn’t choose to don the suit. Tony does. Killian decides to inject her with the Extremis virus that grants superhero powers. She doesn’t choose to keep the Extremis virus or have it removed. Tony decides to remove the virus. Even though she has a brief romp with superpowers and briefly kicks ass, Pepper somehow remains less empowered in Iron Man 3 than in the other films. Men decide her fate.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Pepper Potts in Iron Man 3
If the film really played with the conventions of a “damsel in distress,” rather than playing out every other superhero trope, Pepper wouldn’t have been kidnapped or if she had, she would have saved herself, rather than needing Tony’s rescue. At the film’s climax, we do see Pepper, injected with the Extremis virus, kick ass and save Tony. Oh and of course she does it in a skimpier, sexy outfit. So even in the shadow of empowerment, Pepper must be anchored as a sex object, intertwining power and sexuality. Again, it isn’t about Pepper’s growth and development. It’s about how Tony sees her.
While she acknowledges it “isn’t perfect on gender issues,” Alyssa Rosenberg posits that Iron Man 3’s “progressive gender play is noteworthy when you consider the kinds of roles actresses in superhero movies usually get stuck with.” But no, no it’s not progressive. Did we watch the same movie? Having women scientists and women CEOs in your film, while a good start, isn’t smashing gender stereotypes if you ultimately reinforce the same old tired gender tropes and clichés. It isn’t actually showcasing powerful women if you continually undercut women’s agency. 
While action sequences are enjoyable, fighting is probably not what audiences find empowering. It’s characters’ decisiveness, assertiveness, ingenuity, struggle to survive — all of which can be conveyed through a visual manifestation of action sequences.
Sure, it was nice to see Pepper kicking ass. But let’s be clear here. Just because a female character wields a sword or shoots a gun or uses her fists to punch a villain, doesn’t automatically make her emotionally strong or empowered. Possessing agency to speak her mind, make her own decisions, chart her own course — these are what make a character truly empowered.

The problem with the Damsel in Distress trope is that it strips women of their power and insinuates that women need men to rescue or save them. And yet again it places the focus on men, reinforcing the notion that society revolves around men, not women.

Maybe I’m a greedy feminist but four minutes of ass-kicking does not automatically make an empowered female character shattering gender tropes, nor does it satiate my desire for a depiction of a nuanced, complex, strong female character. Sigh.

‘Once Upon a Time,’ Women Were Friends



Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin),  Ashley (Jessy Schram), and Ruby (Meghan Ory) enjoy a girls’ night out
Written by Lady T.
Once Upon a Time, last year’s big ABC hit now in its second season, is like Lost with fairy tale characters. Created by two former Lost writers, Once Upon a Time is also a show about strangers in a strange land, with only a few key characters aware of the world’s rich history. Both shows combine flashbacks and present-day stories to portray how characters have changed over time. Both shows slowly reveal bits and pieces of the mythology and backstory in a non-chronological fashion. Both shows combine fantastical situations with real-life emotions, and emphasize the importance of community.

There is one way, however, where Once Upon a Time is far superior to Lost: its portrayal of female friendships. As the show becomes more complex in its mythology and introduces more characters, we see even more positive interactions among women.

One of the first relationships we’re introduced to is the strange friendship between Emma Swan (Jennifer Morrison) and Mary Margaret Blanchard (Ginnifer Goodwin). Their friendship is a little unusual because Mary Margaret is, in fact, Snow White with an altered memory, and Emma’s mother. (Mary Margaret/Snow has been frozen in time while Emma has not, which explains why the mother and daughter are the same age.) They strike up a friendship when Emma moves to the town of Storybrooke at the request of her biological son, Henry. Neither woman believes Henry’s fantastical tales about every person in Storybrooke being a fairy tale character, but they quickly grow to like each other. Mary Margaret provides Emma with a home when she needs it, they discuss their failed relationships with men, and when the town turns against Mary Margaret when she is accused of murder, Emma alone continues to defend her.

Now that the spell on Storybrooke has been broken, Emma and Snow are aware of each other’s identities. Snow’s maternal instincts have kicked in, and she is much more protective of Emma, but neither woman has forgotten their previous bond. Their mother-daughter relationship is now on even firmer ground because of the friendship they established before the spell was broken, and watching them rediscover each other has been a heartwarming joy to watch. 
Mother and daughter, together again (Jennifer Morrison and Goodwin)
Still, it’s no surprise that Snow White is able to have a good relationship with her daughter, because she has a history of valuing her friendships with women. Several flashbacks on Once Upon a Time have shown that Snow has a casual but supportive friendship with Cinderella (Jessy Schram), and a deep and fulfilling friendship with Red Riding Hood (Meghan Ory). When Once Upon a Time throws a twist in the traditional fairy tale and reveals that Red and the Big Bad Wolf are, in fact, the same person, Snow supports her friend through her changes and doesn’t judge her for her wolf side. Red, for her part, helps Snow in her quest to rescue Prince Charming. (Another cool thing about Once Upon a Time? The women rescue the men just as often as the men rescue the women.) 
Red, for her part, is also loyal to Cinderella’s Storybrooke counterpart, Ashley (see what they did there, with the naming?) While Snow and Emma are briefly trapped in the enchanted forest, Red quickly bonds with Belle (Emilie de Ravin), helping her ease the transition into a more steady, normal life. Red may be separated from her bestie, but she still makes new friends.
BFFs for life (Goodwin and Ory)
Perhaps the best example of the complex female relationships on the show can be found in the first part of this sophomore season, where four women traveled through the forest on a quest together. Two new characters, Princess Aurora (Sarah Bolger) and Mulan (Jamie Chung). The women, at first, are rivals who are both in love with Prince Philip, but after a wraith sucks out his soul, they quickly bond in a shared goal to punish the people who let the wraith into their world – Snow and Emma.
The outlook is bleak for this new friendship, as Mulan and Aurora first see Snow and Emma as enemies, but this changes very quickly. Aurora soon understands that Snow is not at fault for what happened to her beloved Philip, and the women find common ground, as they have both been victims of the terrible Sleeping Curse. The mother-daughter team and Aurora/Mulan trek across the forest, with different goals that sometimes clash with each other – Snow and Emma want to return to Storybrooke, and Mulan wants to keep Aurora safe – but in the end, they all succeed by working together.
Forget Philip – I ship THIS (Sarah Bolger and Jamie Chung)
The quest across the forest was satisfying to me on so many different levels. I loved seeing four women travel together as a group. I loved that Aurora and Mulan’s love for the same man bonded them together instead of tearing them apart (though, to be honest, I’d rather see the two women as a couple at this point). I loved that each woman had different ways of contributing to the mission – Snow and Mulan through fighting skills and physical dexterity, Emma through strategizing and working with the enemy (the disturbingly sexy Captain Hook), and Aurora through communication in the netherworld. I loved that their conflicts were organic to the characters and situations, not stereotypical catfights among competitive women. 
Most of all, I loved that Once Upon a Time took characters from different fairy tales and classic stories, characters who have traditionally lived in male-centric stories with female villains, and made them discover complex and varied female bonds. They find strength in themselves and with each other.
The trek across the forest is now over, and I’m happy to see Snow/Emma reunited with their family, but I hope this isn’t the end of female bonding in Once Upon a Time. I hope and trust that the writers are only going to show more examples of women interacting positively with other women. 
Princesses, doin’ it for themselves…
Lady T is a writer and aspiring comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

‘Once Upon a Time,’ Women Were Friends



Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin),  Ashley (Jessy Schram), and Ruby (Meghan Ory) enjoy a girls’ night out
Written by Lady T.
Once Upon a Time, last year’s big ABC hit now in its second season, is like Lost with fairy tale characters. Created by two former Lost writers, Once Upon a Time is also a show about strangers in a strange land, with only a few key characters aware of the world’s rich history. Both shows combine flashbacks and present-day stories to portray how characters have changed over time. Both shows slowly reveal bits and pieces of the mythology and backstory in a non-chronological fashion. Both shows combine fantastical situations with real-life emotions, and emphasize the importance of community.

There is one way, however, where Once Upon a Time is far superior to Lost: its portrayal of female friendships. As the show becomes more complex in its mythology and introduces more characters, we see even more positive interactions among women.

One of the first relationships we’re introduced to is the strange friendship between Emma Swan (Jennifer Morrison) and Mary Margaret Blanchard (Ginnifer Goodwin). Their friendship is a little unusual because Mary Margaret is, in fact, Snow White with an altered memory, and Emma’s mother. (Mary Margaret/Snow has been frozen in time while Emma has not, which explains why the mother and daughter are the same age.) They strike up a friendship when Emma moves to the town of Storybrooke at the request of her biological son, Henry. Neither woman believes Henry’s fantastical tales about every person in Storybrooke being a fairy tale character, but they quickly grow to like each other. Mary Margaret provides Emma with a home when she needs it, they discuss their failed relationships with men, and when the town turns against Mary Margaret when she is accused of murder, Emma alone continues to defend her.

Now that the spell on Storybrooke has been broken, Emma and Snow are aware of each other’s identities. Snow’s maternal instincts have kicked in, and she is much more protective of Emma, but neither woman has forgotten their previous bond. Their mother-daughter relationship is now on even firmer ground because of the friendship they established before the spell was broken, and watching them rediscover each other has been a heartwarming joy to watch. 
Mother and daughter, together again (Jennifer Morrison and Goodwin)
Still, it’s no surprise that Snow White is able to have a good relationship with her daughter, because she has a history of valuing her friendships with women. Several flashbacks on Once Upon a Time have shown that Snow has a casual but supportive friendship with Cinderella (Jessy Schram), and a deep and fulfilling friendship with Red Riding Hood (Meghan Ory). When Once Upon a Time throws a twist in the traditional fairy tale and reveals that Red and the Big Bad Wolf are, in fact, the same person, Snow supports her friend through her changes and doesn’t judge her for her wolf side. Red, for her part, helps Snow in her quest to rescue Prince Charming. (Another cool thing about Once Upon a Time? The women rescue the men just as often as the men rescue the women.) 
Red, for her part, is also loyal to Cinderella’s Storybrooke counterpart, Ashley (see what they did there, with the naming?) While Snow and Emma are briefly trapped in the enchanted forest, Red quickly bonds with Belle (Emilie de Ravin), helping her ease the transition into a more steady, normal life. Red may be separated from her bestie, but she still makes new friends.
BFFs for life (Goodwin and Ory)
Perhaps the best example of the complex female relationships on the show can be found in the first part of this sophomore season, where four women traveled through the forest on a quest together. Two new characters, Princess Aurora (Sarah Bolger) and Mulan (Jamie Chung). The women, at first, are rivals who are both in love with Prince Philip, but after a wraith sucks out his soul, they quickly bond in a shared goal to punish the people who let the wraith into their world – Snow and Emma.
The outlook is bleak for this new friendship, as Mulan and Aurora first see Snow and Emma as enemies, but this changes very quickly. Aurora soon understands that Snow is not at fault for what happened to her beloved Philip, and the women find common ground, as they have both been victims of the terrible Sleeping Curse. The mother-daughter team and Aurora/Mulan trek across the forest, with different goals that sometimes clash with each other – Snow and Emma want to return to Storybrooke, and Mulan wants to keep Aurora safe – but in the end, they all succeed by working together.
Forget Philip – I ship THIS (Sarah Bolger and Jamie Chung)
The quest across the forest was satisfying to me on so many different levels. I loved seeing four women travel together as a group. I loved that Aurora and Mulan’s love for the same man bonded them together instead of tearing them apart (though, to be honest, I’d rather see the two women as a couple at this point). I loved that each woman had different ways of contributing to the mission – Snow and Mulan through fighting skills and physical dexterity, Emma through strategizing and working with the enemy (the disturbingly sexy Captain Hook), and Aurora through communication in the netherworld. I loved that their conflicts were organic to the characters and situations, not stereotypical catfights among competitive women. 
Most of all, I loved that Once Upon a Time took characters from different fairy tales and classic stories, characters who have traditionally lived in male-centric stories with female villains, and made them discover complex and varied female bonds. They find strength in themselves and with each other.
The trek across the forest is now over, and I’m happy to see Snow/Emma reunited with their family, but I hope this isn’t the end of female bonding in Once Upon a Time. I hope and trust that the writers are only going to show more examples of women interacting positively with other women. 
Princesses, doin’ it for themselves…
Lady T is a writer with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: My Top 6 Favorite Female Empowerment Songs in Musicals

After reading Lady T’s fabulous post on “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar…ish,” aka songs that appear to empower women but really just signal faux feminism, I started thinking about actual feminist songs of female empowerment. Let me tell ya, there’s not a whole hell of a lot out there.

As much as I adore musicals, most songs are about men, either men singing them or women singing about men — men they desire or men who have done them wrong. Where are the songs belted out by the ladies for the ladies?? After perusing my DVD collection, Broadway ticket stubs and good ole’ google, I’ve compiled a list. In no particular order, here are my favorite powerful women anthems in musical film.


1. “Defying Gravity” — Wicked 

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same 
I’m through with playing by the rules 
Of someone else’s game 
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep 
It’s time to trust my instincts 
Close my eyes: and leap! 

[…]

And nobody in all of Oz
No wizard that there is or was
Is ever gonna bring me down.

Okay, so right off the bat, I’m breaking my own rules. Wicked isn’t a movie…yet. But it has been performed at the Tonys, on Glee and the theatre version was written by Winne Holzman, a TV screenwriter. So there you go.
Based on the best-selling Gregory Maguire novel which tells the story of The Wizard of Oz from the perspective of the Wicked Witch of the West, it’s a stellar Broadway musical (read the novel and watch the play if you can; both different, both amazing). Wicked revolves around Elphaba, who becomes the Wicked Witch of the West — intelligent, studious, defiant, strong and outspoken, in short, one of my favorite female protagonists — and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. It explores prejudice and the notion of good and evil (and who determines those labels). But at its core, the play is about embracing your unique individuality and the power of female friendship. 
In “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba (sung by the stunningly talented Idina Menzel in the role she originated) sings about trusting her instincts, her desire to be free and realizing she possesses all the power she needs inside herself. She refuses to compromise her beliefs and won’t let society define her identity.
I love this story so much, as do countless others. So why haven’t we seen it on-screen?? Why are we getting stuck with the male-centric Oz: The Great and Powerful before Wicked?? It’s a travesty. But it is in pre-production. So hopefully, we’ll see a film version on-screen soon. Until then, I’ll keep pressing the replay button on this video…


2. “I’m Here” — The Color Purple


I believe I have inside of me
Everything that I need to live a bountiful life
With all the love alive in me
I’ll stand as tall as the tallest tree 

[…]

But most of  all 
I’m thankful for 
Loving who I really am.
I’m beautiful. 
Yes, I’m beautiful,
And I’m here.

So, I tried to stick to musical film. But this song is just too damn good not to include on this list. I love the film version of The Color Purple. But I was blown away when I saw it on stage and heard the powerful lyrics. It’s a female-centric musical about Celie, an African American woman in the early 1900s South who faces sexism, abuse, racism and poverty. But through it all, she finds female friendship and a strength she never knew she had. 
There aren’t enough musicals featuring women of color. And there aren’t nearly enough female empowerment songs. That’s what makes the song “I’m Here” so fantastic. Not only is it a beautiful, powerfully stirring song. But it’s sung by a black woman finally realizing her own inner power and self-worth. Celie is a strong survivor proudly declaring herself to the world.
At the end of this video, you can see Fantasia Barrino (who played Celie on Broadway) tearing up, emotionally spent from her wrenching performance, giving it everything she’s got and leaving it all on the floor. More of us need to emulate Celie and say, “Hey world, I’m here. Deal with it.”

3. “Don’t Rain On My Parade” — Funny Girl 

Don’t tell me not to live, just sit and putter 
Life’s candy and the sun’s a ball of butter 
Don’t bring around a cloud to rain on my parade 
Don’t tell me not to fly, I’ve simply got to 
If someone takes a spill, it’s me and not you 
Who told you you’re allowed to rain on my parade 

I’ll march my band out, I’ll beat my drum…

“Hello, gorgeous.” Confession time! I’m kind of obsessed with Babs. Love, love, love her! So yes, she’s here on this list, not once but twice. Uh oh, spoiler alert!

In Funny Girl, Barbra Streisand’s first film, she plays comedian and stage and screen actor Fanny Brice, a role Streisand originated on Broadway. Fast-talking Fanny is convinced she’s going to be a huge star. In her signature song “Don’t Rain On My Parade,” she belts out how she’s not going to let anyone bring down her happiness. Now technically, Fanny is singing about a man. She quits the Ziegfeld Follies to follow her love Nick Arnstein. Yet I still always saw this song as one of female empowerment. Fanny’s going to live her life how she sees fit and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let anyone tell her what to do.

In the end of the play, the tone of which drastically differs from the film, she sings a reprise of “Don’t Rain On My Parade” about picking up the pieces of her life and not only surviving but thriving, holding her head high.

4. “La Vie Boheme” — Rent 

To being an ‘us’ for once 
Instead of a ‘them’ 
La vie boheme 
La vie boheme

Okay, so this isn’t quite a female empowerment song. It’s sung by dudes too. So call it a gender empowerment song instead. Funny, bittersweet and tragic, Rent embraces diversity and the merit of creating your own family and community. A defense of “bohemian” living in the Lower East Side in the 80s, the song sung by the cast of Rent — characters who are straight, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, Latina, and African American — references female artists like Maya Angelou, Gertrude Stein and Susan Sontag. “La Vie Boheme,” and the entire play, openly talk about choice, poverty, HIV/AIDS, homosexuality and bisexuality. And of course I love any song that mentions vegetarian food. No joke.

5. “Sister Suffragette” — Mary Poppins 



We’re clearly soldiers in petticoats, 
Dauntless crusaders for women’s votes! 
Though we adore men individually, 
We agree that as a group they’re rather stupid. 
Cast off the shackles of yesterday! 
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray! 
Our daughters’ daughters will adore us 
And they’ll sing in grateful chorus, 
“Well done, Sister Suffragette!” 
I’ve already written about my unabashed love for Mary Poppins and its accidental feminism. I absolutely adore watching and listening to Glynis Johns as Mrs. Winifred Banks, a mother fighting for women’s right to vote, belting out “Sister Suffragette.” How many other musicals contain overtly feminist songs advocating gender equality and sisterly solidarity? In this age of attacks on women’s rights and reproductive justice, I’m clearly a sucker for a song calling, “Womankind arise!”

6. “A Piece of Sky” — Yentl 

What’s wrong with wanting more?
If you can fly – then soar! 
With all there is 
Why settle for just 
A piece of sky 

One of my absolute favorite films, Yentl is an unusual musical in that all the singing is done by one person, the incomparable powerhouse Babs. (I told you there was another Babs song on the list!) It’s also one of the most feminist films I’ve ever watched.
Barbra Streisand directed, produced, wrote the screenplay and stars as an intelligent and inquisitive woman living in early 19th century Poland disguising herself as a man in order to study Talmudic Law, which women were forbidden from doing at the time. The film showcases female friendship and a female protagonist whose life — even though she idolizes her father and falls in love with a man — surprisingly doesn’t revolve around a man. It questions traditional gender roles, sexuality, patriarchy and ultimately advocates for gender equity.
The song “A Piece of Sky” sums up Yentl’s views, that she wants — no demands — more out of life. That she’s not going to settle for anything less than what she yearns for and she’s going to boldly follow her dreams. Despite the obstacles and constraints of societal conventions, Yentl remains rebellious, assertive and defiant throughout, choosing her own path.
If that’s not female empowerment, I don’t know what is.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Thoughts on Strong Female Characters: Carolyn Fry from ‘Pitch Black’

Guest post written by Rhea Daniel cross-posted from her blog Short Stories with permission. 
So I saw The Avengers(2012). I’ll be honest, pure entertainment, skillful use of existing archetypes to create entertaining group dynamic, how can you not fall for that? 
However the whole ‘strong woman character’ attribution to Joss Whedon isn’t completely merited. I love his truly sympathetic essay about women on Whedonesque.com, and his feminist bent, however as ‘strong’ women go, I could never relate to his female characters.  
To me a character that deserves the reputation of a feminist heroine would be Carolyn Fry(Radha Mitchell) from David Twohy’s Pitch Black (2000), regardless of whether he intended it that way. We have time to watch her character grow through the movie, but she is a secondary character, Riddick is the famed anti-hero. To make an impression in spite of that is huge.

While Fry takes the reins of the group on the deserted planet by default, the one thing that drives her bravery is her terrible mistake — attempting to eject the passengers in cryogenic sleep to lighten the load of the spaceship before it crashed, stopped from doing so by the more conscientious navigator who died as a result, earning her a lot of resentment from the group, their mistrust eventually pushing her to fight for her leadership position more fiercely. I don’t particularly consider that a negative point, I see a person deeply ridden with guilt, antagonists willing her to fail, Riddick keenly watching her every move, reacting to her willingness to risk her safety for the sake of the others with amusement. I see a lot of a pressure on a person who is not particularly skilled to handle the task before her, but she pushes on in spite of that.  

What’s more, the movie treats its weakest member, Jack (Rihanna Griffith), who disguises herself as a boy (self-protection or to avoid being judged, either one), with a lot of sensitivity. She is young, prone to misplaced hero worship for Riddick who is the creepy bad boy of the group, and changes her loyalties easily. Also she’s in the middle of her period. I’ve never seen a sci-fi acknowledge this obvious part of womanhood, women get pregnant but they never menstruate in sci-fi movies (I’ve seen so far). Jack becomes the unwitting lure for the hungry creatures on the planet. It’s an acknowledgment of Jack’s obvious femaleness in the movie, albeit, a negative one. Fry offers her sympathy when Jack breaks down and cries. Johns, the most profiteering member of the lot, attempts to form a pact with Riddick to throw Jack to the wolves. As far as I remember, there’s a price on Riddick’s head, which gives Riddick good reason to get rid of Johns the mercenary, so Riddick might know exactly what he stands for: himself, and he expects everyone else to behave with the same selfish motives. It’s probably why he finds Fry’s declarations of self-sacrifice so amusing, and why SPOILER!!! -> her eventual death affects him so deeply. <-END SPOILER
Fry’s last attempt at leadership solidifies her loyalties. When she finds Riddick has reached the spaceship and is getting ready to take off, leaving the rest behind, she asserts her position as captain and commands him not to leave. He tries to tempt her into coming with him, and here we see a brief moment of Fry’s inner turmoil as she breaks down, torn between choosing her own safety and the lives of the others. She fights back, insists that they go back for the others, but he overpowers her easily. Fry, with Riddick’s knife at her throat, overpowered, asserts her loyalties for the last remaining members of the crew. It’s the sort of moral ambiguity and growth I love to see in a character, and why I feel Carolyn Fry manages to fit into the ‘strong woman’ archetype better than any of the others I’ve seen, mainly because she’s more believable.  
Perhaps we’re so desperate to see strong female characters that we’re willing to pass over any lapses in logic. The Black Widow in The Avengers (2012) for one, should have been taken to the hospital for broken bones after being tossed aside by the Hulk, but she doesn’t even suffer a single fracture, she’s shaken up a bit and she’s back in action. Did anyone else see that they could have done without that scene, just to spare me that crack in the character sheet? While she’s quick-witted, she’s not tempered by science or invincible armor, she’s just a very skilled fighter, and apparently made of rubber. 
Being torn in two is perhaps the most relatable part of Fry, at least for me, having encountered the dichotomy of being born in a woman’s body. SPOILER!!!-> Her sacrifice, though unwitting, brings about a climactic end, a lament and a brief spurt of vengeance from the Riddick the anti-hero. <-END SPOILER Ripley on the other hand, the mother of mothers, makes the perfect cut as the sci-fi woman warrior. I know she’s incredibly cool, but a quick read of this article by Michael Davis raises a few relevant points about the Alien films, and may I point out that it was written years ago. 
It’s not that I don’t still love Ripley/esque sci-fi warriors, I just find Carolyn Fry’s inner turmoil borne of the vicissitudes of external forces much more approachable, and strangely unsung. I like her more because she is unsure of herself, searching for firm ground to walk upon, because unlike Ripley, she doesn’t know where she stands, steeling her vulnerable frame against the next onslaught. 
Rhea Daniel got to see a lot of movies as a kid because her family members were obsessive movie-watchers. She frequently finds herself in a bind between her love for art and her feminist conscience. Meanwhile she is trying to be a better writer and artist and you can find her at http://rheadaniel.blogspot.com/.

Is ‘Prometheus’ a Feminist Pro-Choice Metaphor?

Noomi Rapace (Dr. Elizabeth Shaw) in Prometheus

Warning: massive spoilers ahead!

A pseudo-prequel to Alien, Prometheus raises existential themes of religion, god, faith, science, creation, mythology and evolution. While these are all worthy topics, I’m much more interested in Prometheus’ treatment of its female characters and its commentary on reproduction. Is director Ridley Scott’s new film a pro-choice metaphor advocating reproductive justice?
I was ridiculously excited to see Prometheus. As I’ve shared before, Lt. Ellen Ripley was my icon growing up…as she was for many of us. And Scott admittedly loves showcasing strong, intelligent female leads.
Here the incredibly skilled Noomi Rapace plays the female protagonist Dr. Elizabeth Shaw, an archaeologist guided by her curiosity and buoyed by her religious faith. She and her colleague/partner Charlie Holloway discover caves with paintings signifying our creators or “Engineers” as they call them. When corporate Weyland Industries (a pre-cursor to Alien’s Weyland-Yutani) funds their expedition, they go in search of the beginning of humanity…with horrifying consequences.
The film is problematic with its weak dialogue and flimsy characters. Aside from Rapace’s Shaw and Idris Elba’s Janek (Stringer Bell cigar-smoking and playing an accordion?? Yes, please!), I seriously couldn’t give two shits who lived and who died, which is particularly annoying since Alien rested on the strength of its nuanced character development. But where the film captivates is in its exploration of reproduction.
Patriarchy perpetuates rape culture and infringes on reproductive rights. Alien centered on rape and men’s fear of female reproduction. Littered with vaginal-looking aliens and phallic xenomorphs violating victims orally, these themes resurface. But this time around, Scott’s latest endeavor also adds abortion and infertility. As ThinkProgress’ Alyssa Rosenberg asserts, Prometheus bolsters the Alien Saga’s themes of “exploration of bodily invasion and specifically women’s bodily autonomy.”
Holloway goes on a diatribe to Shaw about creation and meeting our creators. He says that everyone can create. Shaw responds, “Not me,” shedding tears as she laments her infertility, something rarely depicted on-screen. Their conversation seemed to comment on how society views women as broken and not fulfilling their ultimate purpose unless they give birth.
While Shaw doesn’t give birth, she does become pregnant.
When David the android (Michael Fassbender) obtains some of the mysterious “black goo” from the temple, he poisons Holloway by placing a drop in his drink. After Holloway and Shaw talk about creation and infertility, Shaw has sex with the infected Holloway.
After Holloway dies (torched by a flame-throwing-toting Vickers), David examines Shaw for any infection. He then tells her that she’s pregnant (say what??). She knows this is impossible because of her infertility. Even though she’s stunned by this revelation — because of its improbability and her infertility is a source of pain — Shaw wants it out of her immediately.

But David doesn’t want her to have an abortion, insisting she be put in stasis and trying to restrain her. Like Ash in Alien, it appears David had an agenda to try and keep the creature inside Shaw alive. David tries to thwart Shaw’s agency and bodily autonomy, forcing her to remain pregnant. Hmmm, sounds eerily similar to anti-choice Republicans with their invasive and oppressive legislation restricting abortion. No one has the right to tell someone what to do with their body.
After fighting her way past people, Shaw enters a medpod, a surgical “chamber,” which is only designed for male patients. Now before anyone says that the chamber was intended for secret passenger Weyland (a dude), it still subtly reinforces patriarchy nonetheless. Why couldn’t a medical chamber offer procedures for all genders rather than just defaulting its calibrations to male?
Undeterred, she programs the machine to remove a foreign object. She watches as her stomach is the mechanical arms remove the alien creature and then is stapled up. Hands down this was the most riveting scene (and squeamish…aside from that creepy eye scene), watching a terrified yet steely determined Shaw assert control over her body and her reproduction.

Now, not everyone agrees that Shaw was pregnant or that her procedure should be called an abortion. Some say yes, others argue no, and still others are unsure. Rosenberg asserts it’s not really an abortion as Shaw “isn’t pregnant but rather infected” and the surgery doesn’t result in “the termination of her pregnancy but a premature birth.” But Scott himself calls it a pregnancy.

For those who discount Shaw’s abortion because it’s a foreign object or not a traditional fetus, look at Breaking Dawn. Bella’s vampire/human fetus grew at a rapid rate, made her sick and almost destroyed her body. Yet she chose to keep it. My point is that Shaw could have as well. Instead, she chooses an abortion.

But whatever terminology you use — and I’m in the camp that calls it an abortion — you can’t ignore the abortion metaphor.
Rather than merely succumbing to the trappings of the Mystical Pregnancy Trope, which reduces women to their reproductive organs, we instead see a metaphor for patriarchal constraints trying to strip women of their reproductive rights and bodily autonomy.
Dr. Elizabeth Shaw (actor Noomi Rapace) after having abortion in Prometheus
But before I start jumping up and down that a summer blockbuster features an abortion, there’s a few probs here. The word abortion is never uttered. Nope, not once. Instead, it’s referenced as a “procedure.” When Shaw enters the medpod, she initially attempts to program a caesarean, again not an abortion.
Prometheus also suffers from some problematic gender depictions. While both Prometheus and Alien thrust their female leads into terrifying situations, Shaw and Ripley drastically differ, not only in their personalities and worldviews. But in the way the films treat them.
Alien possessed a strong feminist commentary on sexist patriarchy silencing women’s voices and attempting to objectify and violate their bodies. Unlike Ripley, both Shaw and the icy, seemingly villainous Vickers are sexualized. Both Shaw and Vickers are punished — Vickers by falling into the stereotypical trap of being a cold, selfish shrew and Shaw for her sexuality. Although I’ve got to point out that while Vickers was definitely selfish (not stopping to help a stumbling Shaw when outrunning the crashing ship), I think she made some smart decisions surrounded by an assload of people making idiotic ones. And um, I don’t blame her for not wanting an infected Holloway onboard (which Ripley also tried to do with Kane in Alien). Weyland also makes a sexist statement about inheritance and how David is the closest thing he has to a son, despite his flesh and blood daughter Vickers. It’s as if a daughter is meaningless to him.
Ripley wasn’t defined by her relationship to a man nor did she need a man to survive. But Shaw does…or at least an android taking the form of a man. Yes, she’s a resilient survivor. Although David makes a point to express his surprise at Shaw’s survival, saying he didn’t know she had it in her (ugh, cue bad pun). But aside from her self-induced abortion, Shaw ultimately must rely on others: the squidlike xenomorph extracted during her abortion to save her from a violent Engineer as well as David to escape the planet as he can fly the Engineers’ spacecraft. Although Shaw is the one who determines their course.
Perhaps these gender problems are meant as a commentary on the incessant sexism plaguing today’s society. Or maybe Ripley was such a quintessential feminist film icon that this film pales in comparison.
While it’s not as feminist as it could or should be, The Mary Sue’s Zev Chevat sums up what I liked most about Prometheus:
“Mixing in allusions to birth, the body as battleground, and a female character’s absolute will to regain control belong in this series as much as slimy extraterrestrials. It’s what the Alien films do well, and what Prometheus does best.”
Prometheus is an incredibly flawed film. But when reproductive justice faces a daily barrage of attacks, I have to applaud its efforts to depict its female protagonist not only choosing an abortion, but fighting for her right to exercise autonomy over her body. Especially when so few films and TV series do.

Guest Writer Wednesday: In Which ‘A Dangerous Method’ Forces Me to Change My Mind About Keira Knightley

Keira Knightley as Sabina Spielrein in A Dangerous Method
Cross-post by Didion originally published at Feminéma.
I totally get it now.
I’ve never quite understood why Keira Knightley is an A-list star, nor why she gets such good roles (like Atonement, Pride & Prejudice, and Never Let Me Go) – until I saw her in David Cronenberg’s A Dangerous Method (2011). It always seemed to me she was being cast against type. Whereas those earlier films insisted she was a quintessential English rose, as Lizzie Bennet in P&P she appeared to me more likely to bite one of her co-stars than to to impress anyone with her fine eyes.
What Cronenberg gets (and I didn’t, till now) is that Knightley’s angular, toothy, twitchy affect shouldn’t be suppressed but mined instead.
Keira Knightley
Now that I’ve finally seen A Dangerous Method, I can’t imagine another actor taking on the role of the hysteric Sabina Spielrein to such effect. Jewish, Russian, fiercely intelligent and tortured by her inner demons, Sabina is the perfect dark mirror sister of Jung’s blonde and blue-eyed wife (Sarah Gadon), who always appears placid, wide-eyed and proper, and sometimes apologizes for errors such as giving birth to a daughter rather than a son. Now that’s a rose of a girl.
Sarah Gadon as Emma Jung

Maybe she seems exaggerated, but Jung’s wife embodies the self-control and physical containment of their elite class as well as their whiteness. No wonder Jung (Michael Fassbender) is so thrown by Sabina. For all her physical contortions, Sabina is also open to change, open to the darkest of insights. She opens up her mind and her memories to him with stunning willingness, revealing black thoughts associated with dark sexual urges. The more she ceases repressing those memories and associations, the more she reconciles them and begins to heal — and begins to use her quicksilver smarts in a way that shows her full embrace of the “talking cure”. No wonder she captivates Jung’s imagination, which is only the beginning of his growing disloyalty to his wife.
Michael Fassbender as Carl Jung and Keira Knightley

Knightley’s impossible skinniness only enhances her performance here. Whereas in most other films her body gets presented to us as yet another ridiculous size-00 slap in the face to the rest of us fat pigs (and don’t you forget it, Ashley Judd), in A Dangerous Method her body exemplifies a lifetime of self-punishing neurosis. There’s nothing more improbable than seeing her heavy dark eyebrows and her olive skin — and hearing about her sexual arousal via humiliation — all the while bound up in those cruel corsets and lacy, white, high-necked dresses that on any other woman would be persuasive signifiers of her chastity.
In fact, I’d go so far as to say that what I found most impressive about Knightley’s performance was the way she showed how the later, “healed” Spielrein – the one who no longer screams and juts out her chin — was a recognizable incarnation of the earlier hysteric. Her clenched and slightly hunched shoulders, her black looks, her tight mouth. She’s a whirlwind of intellect and energy, and the performance is brilliant. As the excellent JB writes over at The Fantom Country, “Even in relatively calmer moments, she seems trapped inside a state of ceaseless panic, caught, gasping for air, in the dragnet of some trawler that never sleeps.”

Keira Knightley
This is especially important for the contrast between her corporeal presence versus that of Jung and Freud, who exert an absurd degree of self-control and containment, like disembodied brains. When she kisses Jung for the first time, his weak response is to note, “It’s generally thought that the man should be the one to take the initiative.” When someone refers to the “darker differences” between the two, we know those differences are both racial and sexual — and that Spielrein is the dark one, the one whose vagina has needs and rages, and smells like a real woman’s vagina (thanks to Kartina Richardson’s terrific piece, “Keira Knightley’s Vagina”). It makes me wish that Knightley rather than Natalie Portman had appeared as the lead in Black Swan — again, a statement I never thought I’d make.

Keira Knightley
Spielrein and Jung’s other patient, Otto Gross (Vincent Cassel), both profess to a startling optimism about analysis: “Our job is to make our patients capable of freedom,” Gross pronounces, a sentiment Spielrein shares but cannot realize. Her own ecstasy peaks as Jung gives her erotic spankings; clearly, humiliation still retains its primary charge. The film doesn’t explore the gendered nature of hysteria, which brought so many women low during those decades a hundred years ago, but it does highlight how one’s freedom was limited by other cultural boundaries — most notably race. Spielrein looks genuinely crushed when her new interlocutor, Freud, pushes her down with the observation, “We’re Jews, Miss Spielrein — and Jews we will always be.”

Viggo Mortensen as Sigmund Freud
We don’t very often call it hysteria anymore, but we still see manifestations of inexplicable corporeal neurosis in girls and women that defy explanation, as in the strangely infectious case in upstate New York this year. How amazing it would be to find a filmmaker to address the subject. I’ve always thought that someone could take the 1690s Salem witch hysteria as a case study, Arthur Miller-style, to try to explore some of the contributing factors behind such mass outbursts of tics, twitches, and personal misery. And I’d love to have Knightley involved again, honestly.
People love to talk about the synergy between Cronenberg and his frequent male lead, Mortensen, as being one of the great director-actor combinations of the last decade. But now that I’ve seen what Cronenberg got out of Knightley, I want him to unearth new roles for her instead so we can see more of what she can really do once she lets go of the English rose routine. I totally get it now: Knightley can act. And I’m genuinely looking forward to more of it.
Feminéma is a blog about feminism, cinéma, and popular culture kept by Didion, a university professor in Texas, who celebrates those rare moments when movies display unstereotyped characters and feature female directors and screenwriters behind the scenes. Most of all she just loves film. Take a look at feminema.wordpress.com.

“I’m Not Very Good at Making People Like Me”: Why ‘The Hunger Games’ Katniss Everdeen Is One of the Most Important Heroes in Modern Culture

Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games

Guest post written by Molly McCaffrey. Originally published at I Will Not Diet. Cross-posted with permission.

***SPOILER ALERT: Though there are no real spoilers here, one scene and the basic premise of the film are discussed in detail. If you’ve seen the preview for The Hunger Games, reading this review won’t reveal anything new, but if you haven’t seen the preview, I’d suggest you skip the part I’ve marked below.***

Possibly the most important moment in the film adaptation of The Hunger Games occurs when protagonist Katniss Everdeen (played with a perfect cross of vulnerability and strength by Kentucky native Jennifer Lawrence) confesses to her stylist Cinna (the circumspect Lenny Kravitz who aptly conveys the enormity of Katniss’ situation with his searing eyes) that she’s not very good at making people like her.

Katniss has just arrived in the capital to participate in the 74th Annual Hunger Games and is about to be interviewed on television by Caeser Flickerman (a blue-haired, ponytailed Stanley Tucci doing a slightly more likeable version of reality show host Ryan Seacrest). Her interview will be seen by absolutely everyone in Panem, the futuristic version of North America where this story takes place, so the stakes are high.
For this reason, Katniss is more than a little anxious.
SPOILER ALERT: SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE HUNGER GAMES PREVIEW . . . Adding to her anxiety is the fact that, just days before the interview takes place, Katniss volunteered to take her sister’s place when she was chosen by lot—calling to mind Shirley Jackson’s classic short story “The Lottery” — to represent their district in the Hunger Games that year.
The “Hunger Games” is a twisted, fight-to-the-death, televised competition — think William Golding’s Lord of the Flies and Richard Connell’s “The Most Dangerous Game” crossed with a reality show like Survivor — designed by Panem’s capital city to punish and intimidate the outlying districts of Panem for the uprising they orchestrated unsuccessfully against the capital 74 years before.
That risky political move ultimately led to the obliteration of one of the thirteen districts and the virtual enslavement of the other twelve districts (creating a world not totally unlike George Orwell’s 1984 or Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale). As a result, the people who live in the districts are now forced to live in such extreme poverty that dying of hunger is one of their greatest fears.

Katniss isn’t just nervous because she’s about to appear on national television or enter an arena in which only one person will come out alive; she’s also apprehensive because she knows that one of the ways a “tribute” — meaning a player in the Games — can get ahead is by making the people of the capital fall in love with her since they are allowed to sponsor tributes in the Games and send them gifts—medicine, water, weapons, anything — to help them win. So if she doesn’t make them like her, she could be sacrificing her own life in the process.

Stanley Tucci as Caesar Flickerman and Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games
But Katniss feels that she isn’t the kind of person people like—she’s not warm or engaging, positive or open, nor is she particularly feminine (at least until her prep team in the capital puts her through a Twilight Zone-esque makeover process), yet these are the qualities that television audiences usually respond to. So when she is faced with the task of entertaining an entire country of viewers, she is terrified not just that they won’t like her, but that they’ll go so far as to root against her.
This is a common fear for women in our society, especially young women who are expected to be have cheerful personalities and sunny dispositions, who are supposed to be both people pleasers and objects of the male gaze. They are not supposed to be contemplative or cynical, as Katniss certainly is after having grown up in a society that forces her to kill squirrels on a daily basis to feed her fatherless family. So her fears about not being able to woo her television audience are not only valid, but also relatable.
If Katniss’ apprehensions about not being able to put on the right face for society are driven by her very real fear of dying in the arena, the fears of young women today are usually motivated by less sober concerns, but ones that surely feel just as profound when you’re sixteen years old.
Like Katniss, young women today worry about not being pretty enough or likeable enough, but they also worry about how their ability to do those things will ultimately affect their ability to find both happiness and success in life, a fate that may seem as serious as losing your life when you’re a teenager. So it’s no wonder this story appeals to young people — girls and boys alike. It speaks to their most overwhelming concerns: Will I be good enough? Will I be strong enough? Will people like me?
Ultimately Katniss is able to perform for the audience during her televised interview and win them over: not by being sunny or charismatic or entertaining—though she is forced to do the latter when she twirls in her designer ball gown, alighting the flames inside its skirt (an allusion to Katniss’ inner strength) — but by being herself, by being a real person with genuine thoughts and emotions, making her more honest and vulnerable than anyone else in the giant theatre full of costumed adults who congratulate and cheer for the tributes in a way that reveals their inability to understand the gravity of what they are doing to them.
It’s a message repeated throughout the rest of her story and, more importantly, one we need to send more often to young people: Be yourself — not who other people expect you to be — and we will like you for who you are.
I cannot explain how much I appreciate Suzanne Collins for putting such an important message out in the world and for giving us the great gift of Katniss Everdeen, one of the most admirable and honest young heroes ever committed to the page or screen. And I hope you will appreciate her as much as I do.
Molly McCaffrey is the author of the short story collection How to Survive Graduate School & Other Disasters, the co-editor of Commutability: Stories about the Journey from Here to There, and the founder of I Will Not Diet, a blog devoted to healthy living and body acceptance. She teaches English and creative writing classes and advises writing majors at Western Kentucky University in Bowling Green, Kentucky.

Biopic and Documentary Week: Sofia Coppola’s ‘Marie Antoinette’ Surprisingly Feminist

Kirsten Dunst in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette
Many chastised Sofia Coppola’s re-imagining of Marie Antoinette. Some critics complained about the addition of modern music while others thought it looked too slick, like an MTV music video (remember those??). But I think most people missed the point. Beyond the confectionary colors, gorgeous shots of lavish costumes and a teen queen munching on decadent treats and sipping champagne is a compelling and heartbreaking film that transcends eye candy. Underneath the exquisite atmosphere exists a very powerful and feminist commentary on gender and women.
Marie Antoinette chronicles the life of Austrian-born Maria Antonia Josephina Joanna (Kirsten Dunst) as she becomes the Dauphine and then Queen of France leading up to the French Revolution. Writer and director Sofia Coppola loosely based the film on Antonia Fraser’s sympathetic biography of the French queen. Coppola injected the dialogue with actual quotes from the queen’s life. Dunst skillfully exhibits the queen’s naïveté, loneliness and charisma. In an outstanding and underrated performance, she adeptly captures the jubilance of a young woman who desperately desires freedom as well as a woman burdened with the knowledge that her only value lies in her ability to bear children.
In the beginning of the film, we see Marie Antoinette travel from her homeland of Austria to France as her mother has arranged for her to be married to the Dauphin, Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman) in order to unite the two antagonistic kingdoms of Austria and France. In a heartbreaking scene, Judy Dench tells Marie Antoinette she must leave everything she knows behind to make room for her new French identity, including abandoning her adorbs dog Mops. No, not her dog! That scene seriously broke my heart reducing me to tears. Marie Antoinette is upset yet she swallows her pain and obeys. She enters a tent placed on the two countries’ borders, entering on Austrian soil and exiting on French land. In the tent, she must strip off all of her clothes in order to don her new French garb – a symbol of her having to strip away her identity.
Once Marie Antoinette marries Louis XVI, we see Versailles’ ridiculous and over the top traditions again and again. Every morning, an entourage of servants and royalty awakens Marie Antoinette, dressing her in garments with outlandish pomp and ceremony.
As she navigates royal society’s mores, we witness Marie Antoinette’s close friendships with the free spirited Duchesse de Polignac (Rose Byrne) and the reserved Princesse de Lamballe (Mary Nighy). When she is told she should choose more appropriate friends, particularly ditching Duchesse de Polignac, Marie Antoinette defends her friend saying she enjoys her fun spirit. Yes, there are moments when Marie Antoinette indulges in vapid, decadent luxuries. But people forget she’s a teenager. Um, that’s what they do! To take her mind off the constant societal pressure, she distracts herself by gambling, singing in plays and shopping. She’s so confined by societal expectations; she’s exploring her identity and experimenting as much as she can.
Marie Antoinette’s mother, the Austrian duchess Maria Theresa warns her, “All eyes will be on you.” After their wedding night, it’s clear that Louis XVI has no sexual interest in his bride. Through her constant letters, Maria Theresa perpetually reminds her daughter that “nothing is certain” about her place until she gives birth to a son. Even after Louis XVI is crowned king and Marie Antoinette becomes queen, her place is still not entirely secure until she has a son. After her sister-in-law gives birth to a son, Marie-Antoinette feels even more pressure to have a child. Her mother condemns her for not being charming enough or patient enough to entice her husband. As Marie Antoinette reads her mother’s letter, the stinging words wound her, we see and feel her solitary pain.
Women were reduced to their vaginas, only valued if they got pregnant so they could produce an heir. No one bothers Louis XVI about this, even though he’s the one who doesn’t want to have sex. Nope, just the woman; of course she’s to blame. Eventually after 7 years with no children, Marie Antoinette’s brother, the Holy Roman Emperor, talks to him. But Marie Antoinette is repeatedly blamed for not becoming pregnant. Clearly her body and reproduction are her only salient attributes in the eyes of society. 
Throughout the film, we’re reminded that women aren’t desirable, lesser than men. When her first child a daughter is born, Marie Antoinette says to her:
“Oh, you were not what was desired, but that makes you no less dear to me. A boy would have been the Son of France, but you, Marie Thérèse, shall be mine.”
In a world where nothing, not even her own body truly belongs to her, it’s touching to see Marie Antoinette, a devoted mother, take such joy in her relationship with her daughter.
Throughout history, people erroneously vilified Marie Antoinette, attributing her with more political influence than she actually possessed. And of course she was demonized after she supposedly told starving peasants, “Let them eat cake.” As civil unrest grows inching ever closer to revolution, the film’s Marie Antoinette says she would never say such a thing. Because of her Austrian heritage and I would also argue her gender, Marie Antoinette was repeatedly used as a scapegoat for France’s financial woes and the public’s strife.
The film divided audiences. At the Cannes Film Festival, critics notoriously booed yet it also received a standing ovation. Some critics dismissed it, saying it was nothing more than a pop video or that “all we learn about Marie Antoinette is her love for Laduree macaroons and Manolo Blahnik shoes.” Sofia Coppola, who consciously chose to omit politics from the film, fully acknowledged Marie Antoinette was not a typical historical biopic:

“It is not a lesson of history, it’s an interpretation carried by my desire for covering the subject differently. 
Would people still complain and moan if a dude was at the center of the film or a dude had directed this?? Nope, I think not. Does anyone else remember that Mozart acts like an immature douchebag in the critically acclaimed Amadeus??
But some delved deeper, understanding its rare beauty. Critic Roger Ebert praised Marie Antoinette astutely pointing out:

“This is Sofia Coppola’s third film centering on the loneliness of being female and surrounded by a world that knows how to use you but not how to value and understand you.”
Told almost entirely from the Queen’s perspective, we see the world through Marie Antoinette’s eyes. Her loneliness and the pressure she faces to be everything to everyone is palpable. 
With its commentaries on gender, women’s agency, reproduction and female friendships, Marie Antoinette is surprisingly deeper and more feminist than many realize. Sofia Coppola created a lush and sumptuous indulgence for the eyes. More importantly, by humanizing the doomed queen and adding modern touches, Coppola reminds us of the gender constraints women throughout history and today continually endure.

‘Game of Thrones’ Season 2 Trailer: Will Women Fare Better This Season?

Luckily, Season 2 will see an influx of new characters, including lots of female roles. Huzzah! The “Red Priestess” Melisandre of Asshai (Carice van Houten), female warrior (!!!!) Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie), noblewoman Lady Margaery Tyrell (Natalie Dormer), Ygritte (Rose Leslie), the Ironborn captain (double !!!!) Yara Greyjoy (Gemma Whelan) named “Asha” in the novels. Wait, a sorceress, warrior and ship captain?? More women in leadership roles?? Sounds promising!

 

When I wrote about HBO’s Game of Thrones last year, I had no idea that my critique would ignite such a fire storm.
In the 2 years I’ve been blogging, my post “Here There Be Sexism? Game of Thrones and Gender” holds the rank as my blog’s second most commented post. Readers commenting had visceral reactions to my criticizing the TV show, based on the beloved series by George R. R. Martin, and its depiction of gender and its treatment of women.
Now, while I know the TV series is pretty faithful to its source material, I haven’t read the books yet. So I can’t speak to how the books depict the female characters, only the TV show. But should I have to read the books in order to enjoy the show? Nope, I don’t think so. A TV series or film should be able to stand on its own accord. But people keep telling me to wait until season 2 as the books get even better regarding the gender roles.
Last week, HBO aired its trailer for the much-anticipated Season 2. The trailer is narrated by Varys (Conleth Hill):

“Three great men: a king, a priest and a rich man. Between them stands a common sell sword. Each great man bids the sell sword kills the other two. Who lives? Who dies? Power resides where men believe it resides. It’s a trick, a shadow on the wall. A very small man can cast a very large shadow.”

Ugh. A dude…talking about more dudes. Yet another dude-fest.
In the very 1st teaser trailer that premiered in December, narrated by Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane), Robert Baratheon’s brother who’s gunning for the Iron Throne, again it’s the voice of a dude we hear.
But Game of Thrones boasts a lot of strong, intelligent, powerful women. Luckily in the trailer, we see and hear my two favorite badass female characters. Caring yet steely Dragon Queen Daenerys Stormborn (Emilia Clarke), whose transformation in Season 1 truly was the best part of the show for me, assertively proclaims:

“I am Daenerys Stormborn and I will take what is mine with fire and blood.”

Gender-bending, spunky, sword-wielder Arya Stark (Maisie Williams), says:
 

“Anyone can be killed.”

Daenerys and Arya stand out as my fave characters period, regardless of gender.
Aside from them, no other women speak. Although to be fair the only other man who speaks is Golden Globe winner Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister (he’s seriously amazeballs). We see assertive matriarchs Lady Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley) and Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey). But of course there’s a bit of misogyny in the trailer with King Douchbag (er, Joffrey) pointing a crossbow at Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), threatening her life.
Misogyny and sexism tainted Season 1 of Game of Thrones with rape, abuse and objectification. While it pissed some people off, nudity on a show doesn’t really bother me. What did irk me was all the brothel scenes that focused on the male gaze and male pleasure. Aside from Daenerys and Arya, even the strong and powerful female characters are ultimately deferential to the men around them. It implies women’s lives revolve around men. So many films and TV series focus on men and their perspectives with women as secondary characters rarely talking to other women.
Luckily, Season 2 will see an influx of new characters, including lots of female roles. Huzzah! The “Red Priestess” Melisandre of Asshai (Carice van Houten), female warrior (!!!!) Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie), noblewoman Lady Margaery Tyrell (Natalie Dormer), Ygritte (Rose Leslie), the Ironborn captain (double !!!!) Yara Greyjoy (Gemma Whelan) named “Asha” in the novels. Wait, a sorceress, warrior and ship captain?? More women in leadership roles?? Sounds promising!
But with so many new women, why did I only see 1 new female face in the 2nd trailer? Why do the trailers revolve around the men??
Now, I love Game of Thrones. Really, I do. It contains complex characters, compelling plots and political intrigue. But as stellar as the show is (and it truly is), doesn’t mean it’s inoculated from sexism. In fact, my expectations are higher because it’s so good. As I previously wrote:

“Throughout the first season…women are raped, beaten, burned and trafficked. I suppose you could chalk it up to the barbarism of medieval times. And I’m sure many will claim that as the show’s defense…or that the men face just as brutal and severe a life. I also recognize that there’s a difference between displaying sexism because it’s the time period and condoning said sexism.

“But this IS a fantasy, not history, meaning the writers can imagine any world they wish to create.  So why imagine a misogynistic one?”

I can’t stress this enough. This is fantasy, people, NOT history. So why create a sexist world rife with misogyny?? Medieval fantasy, even while incorporating accurate historical elements, is not synonymous with history. As Blood Fiend astutely writes at The Book Lantern:

“I want to read more fantasy. Really, I do. But I’m unable to read it when women are constantly oppressed and seen as lesser beings in a world based on fantasy. Writers, you can create a world with any rules you choose. Yet, you continue to write sexist worlds to have your characters overcome the sexism. Can a girl fight monsters without having to deal with sexism? Does every girl have to disguise herself as a boy to fight in a war? This has nothing to do with cultural or social constructs. In your world, you don’t have to have those.”

I might not be so hard on Game of Thrones if misogyny didn’t surface in almost every movie and TV show. In most films and shows, women’s lives revolve around men. Women talk to men and if they happen to talk to another woman, it’s about men. Too many films and shows sexualize women and show women subjugated by men via violence. Even when strong, intelligent, capable women exist (as in Game of Thrones), they are continually depicted as not possessing dominion over their bodies, families and lives.
If writers and directors utilize sexism to provide social commentary, that’s one thing. And not every movie or TV show must convey a profound message. But the media continually relies on and perpetuates sexism. While a fantastic series, Game of Thrones suffers from sexist tropes and would be even stronger without them.
I hope I’m wrong. I hope Season 2 is more of a lady-fest. And it sounds like it might be with the progression of Daenerys’ reign and the addition of so many new female characters. But with rampant sexism inherent in media, including in the 1st season, I’m not going to hold my breath.

Game of Thrones Season 2 airs Sunday, April 1st at 9pm, EST on HBO.

Animated Children’s Films: Nightmare Revisited

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

This Halloween my husband and I stayed in and cuddled up with Funfetti cupcakes and a movie. We capped off our week-long 90’s Halloween movie marathon with a favorite from my childhood, The Nightmare Before Christmas. I’ve probably seen this film a hundred times. I know all of the songs by heart. I remember watching it on VHS when it first came out, which is making me feel increasingly old. But as is the case with several things from my childhood, some of the nostalgia wears thin when subjected to critical analysis.
For one thing, as I would love to describe to my five-year-old self, the film doesn’t pass the Bechdel test. To refresh your memory, passing the Bechdel test means a film has to have two female characters (with names) who talk to each other about something besides men. That’s it, and yet even this very basic requirement is usually too much for Hollywood to handle. Sally the rag doll and Shock, the witch trick-or-treater, only talk to men. According to Wikipedia, the two witches aren’t given names in the film, only later in a video game. But even without the name part, they only talk to and about Jack. This sends the message to boys and girls alike that female characters do not have anything substantial to contribute to the dialogue or the plot of the film. Girls and women do not, apparently, have anything interesting or relevant to say to one another, and children internalize that very deeply. While this was probably unintentional, the effect is still the same.
Shock
Maybe you’re thinking that’s a bit harsh. After all, the named female characters do seem to have quite a bit of agency. Shock is frustrated with her “dumb” cohorts and seems to be the brains of the outfit. She is quick to point out flaws in their plans and ultimately decides the best method to kidnap Santa Claus. But her development as a character ends with that scene. Shock is a naughty child motivated by nothing apart from her desire to do mischief. While there is nothing wrong with this type of character per se, there is something wrong with the fact that she represents half of the named female cast. And, while Shock is admittedly fun, I feel she does not do justice to Catherine O’Hara’s talent.
This brings me to Sally, also voiced by O’Hara. On the surface, Sally is the perfect heroine. She is constantly outsmarting her doddering caretaker, Doctor Finklestein. She repeatedly slips “deadly nightshade” into his food, putting him to sleep so she can wander free. Her knowledge of herbs and potions is a serious inspiration to Jack in his quest for the meaning of Christmas. He even asks her to make his “Sandy Claws” suit, because she is the only one “clever enough” to do it. She has the foresight to know his plan will be a disaster, so she tries to stop Christmas with fog juice. Then, she rushes to the aid of Santa Claus, leading him to tell Jack, “The next time you get the urge to take over someone else’s holiday, I’d listen to her! She’s the only one who makes any sense around this insane asylum!” Jack eventually realizes that he was a fool not to listen to Sally, or notice her affection for him.
Sally
So, my five-year-old self loved Sally mostly because she is smart and resourceful. But Sally isn’t defined by her intelligence. She is defined by her relationships to the men in the story. Five-year-old me never bothered to question why she was the property of her creepy father in the first place. And while Jack is motivated by his role in the community and a quest for self-discovery, Sally is only driven by her desire to be with Jack. After Doctor Finklestein declares Sally to be too much trouble, he sets about building a new female companion who won’t disagree with him or run away. Sally’s world, which revolves around being with Jack and taking care of him, is at peace when he finally notices her and wants to be with her.
I still like the film. It gets me feeling all fuzzy inside and it serves the double purpose of celebrating Halloween and getting me amped up for Christmas. But I’m not five anymore. We live in a very complicated world where many changes need to take place, and girls and boys need to see these changes in the media they consume. Maybe someday Tim Burton could revamp the film and have Sally take over as mayor of Halloween Town (because seriously, that guy is an incompetent idiot). Maybe Shock could apprentice under the two witches and learn a useful trade to put her wits to better use. Maybe somewhere in Halloween Town, two women could talk to each other about something—anything—and the town could join us all in the 21st century. That sounds more like a Halloween classic I would want children to see.  

Jessica Critcher loves to write about feminism and gender issues, and she is a regular contributor to Gender Focus. While she loves living in Boston, she often misses Honolulu, where she earned her bachelor’s degree in English (and forgot that there was such a thing as snow).