But what if I spent my time, instead, helping another female filmmaker make her movie involving female friendship? Wouldn’t that be just as meaningful? And could it perhaps be making an even bigger statement—promoting the “cause,” so to speak?
This guest post by Liz Cardenas Franke appears as part of our theme week on Female Friendship.
The desire to have more female-driven films is such a hot topic in the entertainment industry right now. And it should be. There is definitely a need for more fully developed, complex female characters in cinema and for stories that are told from a female point of view.
But let’s take it a step further. What I believe is truly lacking are stories that specifically center on female friendships. It seems to me most female-oriented movies often just look at sexual relationships from a female perspective. (OK, sometimes they also show what it’s like to be a mother or juggle family and a career.)
But if you asked someone off the street to name a movie about two female friends, a real movie, not some over-the-top, unrealistic comedy, you would most likely hear Thelma & Louise. Maybe Beaches. And that’s probably it. Sure, there are others. But you have to really think about it for a minute. The same is not true for the male counterpart of this question. Most people would have no problem rattling off a list of pictures that concentrate on male friendship. That’s because there are a ton! There’s even a subgenre for them: the male “buddy” movie.
So, as a female filmmaker myself, what could I do to make a difference? Of course, I could go ahead and make one. I do, after all, write and produce films, alongside my husband, and many of them have strong female lead characters. For example, in our family feature, Summer’s Shadow, the protagonist is a bright and independent 12-year-old girl who rescues a sweet, stray dog and will stop at nothing to save him. And it’s her determination that ultimately impacts those around her, both children and adults. And I just directed (for the first time!) a short film, titled Treading Water, which I also wrote, and it is about a woman in her 30s who tries to come to grips with her new reality of caring for her elderly father in her childhood home.
But what if I spent my time, instead, helping another female filmmaker make her movie involving female friendship? Wouldn’t that be just as meaningful? And could it perhaps be making an even bigger statement—promoting the “cause,” so to speak?
Well, that is what I’ve done. I am currently a producer on the feature film of a fellow female filmmaker (say that three times fast!) who also happens to be a dear friend of mine. Her name is Augustine Frizzell, and she is the writer/director of Never Goin’ Back. Her movie centers on the friendship between two 16-year-old girls who come from lower socio-economic backgrounds (also grossly underrepresented in cinema) and their misadventures as they try to win back their jobs at the local Pancake House in order to make rent. They have absentee parents and are high school dropouts living on their own, except for an older brother and his friends. So, ultimately, they only have each other. And they go through the ups and downs of life together.
This is a personal story for Augustine. It is based on her own experiences. So by working as a producer on her feature, I am helping her tell her own story. And I believe if we really want to see more narratives about true female friendships on screen, then we must actually experience them in real life, as well.
Augustine and I have worked on each other’s projects in the past— I was an executive producer on her short film, she was a producer and acted in mine. However, due to the magnitude of this project (a full-length feature with an ultra low budget and a three-week shoot), it has taken our relationship to the next level. And through it all, it’s been such a positive experience.
Being filmmakers in a male-dominated industry (who also happen to be married to male directors), we can relate to each other. We can also be vulnerable and let down our guards in front of each other. And that is what has been so special and has, quite honestly, blown me away. We do not let ego get in the way. There is no jealousy. No backstabbing. No ulterior motives. We truly support and encourage each other and want each other to be successful, and you hardly ever see that in movies or on TV.
I have to be honest. I have never really had that before in this business. Of course, my husband is always extremely supportive and encouraging, as is hers. But it has been so rewarding to make a real girlfriend in this business, and someone who is pursuing the same thing as I am. It makes me feel like anything is possible. By helping each other, I think we will make a difference. One movie at a time.
And it doesn’t end there. We have so many women working on this project, many of whom are donating some or all of their time or services. Kelly Snowden, my fellow female producer on this project, (there is one male producer—we don’t discriminate after all) has worked tirelessly from the beginning to help our director obtain her vision. And from the Casting Director to our Costumer Designer to our Production Coordinator —they are all women. All of them work regularly in the industry and have still found time to help on this project. This support system of women we’re creating is truly amazing. I was always taught to lead by example, as opposed to simply talking about wanting change. That’s what we’re doing. And it feels really good.
Liz Cardenas Franke is an actress, writer and producer. She and her husband have made seven feature films through their production company, Hungry Bear, including the successful “Adventures of Bailey” series. A member of Women in Film and SAG-AFTRA, Liz was a former reporter for The Dallas Morning News and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, as well as the Vice President of International Sales for Engine 15 Media Group. She is a graduate of Texas Christian University with a B.S. in Broadcast Journalism.
My sister and fellow Bitch Flicks contributor, Angelina Rodriguez, and I live tweeted our viewing of ‘Lyle.’ We loved actress Gaby Hoffman’s big, beautiful brows and the gap between her two front teeth (these two traits are strong in our own family). Leah often wears ratty, mismatched pajamas, and very few of the characters have styled hair. Overall, we appreciated how real and unmade-up the film’s stars were.
I was excited to review female-directed (Stewart Thorndike‘s) Lyle, a FREE streaming independent film and a reboot of (pedophile) Roman Polanski’s classic film Rosemary’s Baby. Like Rosemary’s Baby, Lyle stars a pregnant woman who becomes more suspicious and more isolated every day, fearing a conspiracy to harm her unborn child. Unlike Rosemary’s Baby, Lyle‘s lead character Leah (Gaby Hoffman) is a lesbian, and her first-born daughter, Lyle, dies under mysterious circumstances. Though billed as a horror movie (and, in some inexplicable cases, a horror comedy), Lyle is more of a psychological thriller than anything, dissecting the ways in which Leah deals with grief, loss, pregnancy, and motherhood as well as paranoia, aggression, fear, and alienation.
My sister and fellow Bitch Flicks contributor, Angelina Rodriguez, and I live tweeted our viewing of Lyle, using the hashtag #LyleMovie. Aside from being really fun, it also helped us home in on the successes and shortcomings of the film. First of all, we loved actress Gaby Hoffman’s big, beautiful brows and the gap between her two front teeth (these two traits are strong in our own family). Leah often wears ratty, mismatched pajamas, and very few of the characters have styled hair. Overall, we appreciated how real and unmade-up the film’s stars were.
The cast of the film is almost entirely made-up of women. Only one primary character is male, and he’s a Black man. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is for this jaded feminist reviewer to see a cast comprised of groups that media traditionally under-represents!
The downside of a ratio like this, though, is that all Leah’s persecutors (real and imagined) are other women. Most notably, her partner, June, played by Ingrid Jungermann (the creator and star of the lesbian web series F to 7th). Leah and June mostly have a non-affection relationship with little to no physical contact. June is portrayed as an inconsiderate, perhaps murderous partner who may or may not be using Leah. If June is, in fact, using Leah and her baby-making abilities, is June even actually gay, or is that part of the ruse? I don’t like that I found myself questioning the veracity of a character’s sexuality, and it seemed that Lyle encouraged this suspicion.
The film also may have been advancing a weird, regressive perspective on motherhood, as even the poster declares, “A mother should protect her child.” Leah does little other than exist as a pregnant woman. Her identity outside of her status as “mother” is largely unknown to us. Lyle seemed to be seeking to normalize lesbianism through the notion of the nuclear family. For instance, the couple moves into a fancy apartment to accommodate their expanding family. Leah stays at home while June works late hours, and June is constantly gaslighting her pregnant partner. It’s all very traditional and falls within the existing heteronormative paradigm.
On the positive side, we have a self-advocating heroine who is intelligent, clever, and stands up for herself. She never gives into those who seek to erase her fears and her accusations of foul play. Leah is strong and self-preserving (while protecting her unborn child) until the end. Having a hugely pregnant heroine with bushy hair and eyebrows is a beautiful thing. Having the climactic final showdown take place in the birthing room is also seriously badass. Though I didn’t love the implications that could be read into some of the themes in Lyle, it’s moving in the right direction. This is a free, independent horror film starring lesbians that doesn’t seek to exploit their sexuality for the male gaze. It’s very existence is a triumph. Plus, it’s fun to watch.
Bitch Flicks writer and editor 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. Her short story “The Woman Who Fell in Love with a Mermaid” was published in Germ Magazine. 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.
When I contemplate women in film, two thoughts come to mind: women in front of the camera, and women behind the camera. We are all familiar with the stereotypical female characters in movies and TV shows that portray traditional, predictable roles. There’s nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but it isn’t teaching us anything new about what it’s like to actually be a woman. When I fell in love with independent film in the early 2000s, it was for one reason: I had never experienced anything as risky or as honest as filmmaking without rules or boundaries. This was especially true in terms of exploration of female characters. It was refreshing, enlightening and, eventually, life changing.
This is a guest post by Jen West.
When I contemplate women in film, two thoughts come to mind: women in front of the camera, and women behind the camera. We are all familiar with the stereotypical female characters in movies and TV shows that portray traditional, predictable roles. There’s nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but it isn’t teaching us anything new about what it’s like to actually be a woman. When I fell in love with independent film in the early 2000s, it was for one reason: I had never experienced anything as risky or as honest as filmmaking without rules or boundaries. This was especially true in terms of exploration of female characters. It was refreshing, enlightening and, eventually, life changing.
One of my favorite films of 2013 was Blue is the Warmest Color. It’s an outstanding example of including high-impact female characters. I stumbled into it one rainy afternoon in Atlanta, flying solo on a weeknight. I grabbed my bag of popcorn and took a seat in the nearly empty theater. I was originally intrigued by the trailer I had seen and the artwork of the mysterious girl with the bright blue hair. I soon saw that there was something different happening between these characters that I had never experienced before— a depiction of a true lesbian love affair on screen. I was sucked into the world of Adèle, a 15-year-old girl exploring love and sexuality for the first time. I know some would argue that the characters were a little too pretty, making the film feel a little like soft porn at times, but I found it to be intimate and intense. It wasn’t afraid to take us in the bedroom and expose the passion that existed between the two girls. Isn’t sexuality a part of all of our lives, whether in abundance or lack thereof? We shouldn’t be afraid to explore that. It was a brave film and the actresses held nothing back for those parts. That’s what independent film is all about— taking risks and pulling out raw emotions in the viewer. I liked that it made me feel vulnerable. I loved that snot dripped out of Adèle’s nose every time she cried. It was female authenticity. I want more of that.
Another recent stand-out performance for me was from Brie Larson in Short Term 12. This is a great example of not shying away from the ugly parts of life. Her character, Grace, deals with past sexual abuse as a life-changing event and she continues to deal with it while working at a adolescent treatment facility. She shows us the face of an abuse survivor, which isn’t always pretty. Everyone has demons that chase them down eventually. Each person’s coping process is unique. Grace is a beautifully broken and complex character who will go down as one of my favorites of all time. If you haven’t seen it, then you are missing a pivotal film in the indie universe.
I want the ugly. Give me the behind-closed-doors intimate moments that really mean something to my own struggles. I don’t care about surface appearances and the masks that each of us wear every day in order to fit in. The true self lies far beyond that. It’s a scary, but unifying experience to be let into another’s intimate universe. Film is a great medium to explore this concept, especially with female characters.
Nothing turns me on more than a powerful female performance, whether it be the actors on screen or the writers and directors behind the camera. As I’ve traveled the film festival circuit with short films of my own, I’ve always kept an eye out for my peers. Through this self-initiated challenge I’ve found the likes of Josephine Decker, Eliza Hittman, and Leah Meyerhoff. You should become familiar with these women. When you aren’t paid yet for your craft, when each film comes from your soul—that’s how you know someone is a real artist. It’s hard, sometimes even nearly impossible, but you do it anyway. There is absolutely no shame in wanting to be paid for your work, however there is something to be said for pursuing your passion just because it’s a part of your being. That’s the kind of filmmaker I strive to be.
For all of you female filmmakers out there— let’s keep creating characters that reveal something important about our humanity. It doesn’t matter if it’s done through humor or drama. For those of you who are film fanatics, or just the occasional theater dweller, I challenge you to discover more independent female-focused content and filmmakers. It’s easy to turn on Netflix and watch what’s on top of your recommended viewing list. Instead, why not dive into something different (but equally convenient) like Seed & Spark, or just dig a little deeper into your preferred medium for that independent film you’ve never heard of. Better yet, attend your local film festival and see what’s surfacing beyond the TV and movie theater. I guarantee that you’ll discover amazing female-focused content once you start searching.
Born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, Jen West is a writer and director living in Atlanta, Georgia. She is known for Piece of Cake (2006), Crush (2011), Bubble (2013) and “Call Me” (2014 – music video for St. Paul and the Broken Bones). She wrote her feature script, Electric Bleau, as part of a creative residency with the Cucalorus Film Festival in 2014. Currently she is in preproduction for her next short, Little Cabbage and is crowdfunding on Seed & Spark.
In Hollywood, business as usual means that the top ten highest-grossing films of 2014, so far, were all directed by men. In fact, between 2009 and 2013 only 4.7 percent of feature films were directed by women. Courtney Martinez is helping to close this gender gap. Martinez is the creator of Girls Film Project, a program designed to educate young women about film production and media literacy.
Courtney Martinez started Girls Film Project, a non-profit program that teaches young women and girls about film production, media literacy, leadership, and teamwork.
The top ten highest-grossing films of 2014 have had exactly zero female directors.
This is the movie business as usual. In fact, as this infographic from Indiewire’s Women and Hollywood column illustrates, between 2009 and 2013 only 4.7 percent of feature films were directed by women.
How can we close this gender gap? Well, personal and social change go hand in hand. Or, in bumper sticker form, we can be the change. For example, if you follow our weekly tweet chat (#BitchFlicks, Tuesdays at 2 p.m. ET), then last week you caught our conversation with film critic Miriam Bale. Bale started the #HireTheseWomen hashtag to compile a list of the many talented women directors that Hollywood should hire. Social media is a powerful tool, and #HireTheseWomen has been effective at raising awareness. In the interim, since there are still few well-known female director possibility models, it is important that young women and girls know that theycan make movies.
Courtney Martinez is helping to do that. Martinez is the creator of Girls Film Project (GFP), a program designed to educate young women about film production and media literacy. It’s based in Tucson, Arizona, and has been operating since 2013. Sessions are free to participants, are one week long, and cover six courses:
Media Literacy: The student examines how gender, race, and culture are represented in the media. This course is intended to encourage students to engage in positive discourse, and to think critically about media and their impacts on society.
Writing and Script Analysis: The students learn how to write a script, create storyboards, and deconstruct scenes to examine subtext and develop writing skills.
Pre-production/distribution: This course describes the issues that often come up prior to filming, e.g., how to get started, budgeting, and the importance of a good story. The students also explore the requirements for film festivals, develop a pitch proposal and address promotional issues such as poster development, social media, websites and local screenings.
Production: A hands-on course where students handle equipment and get training on how to operate cameras, tripods, microphones and other film equipment.
Editing and Sound: The students learn the basics of editing with Final Cut Pro software. Students edit a short clip with pre-recorded footage.
Final Project: Students put their skills to use and work as a team to make a short film, from start to finish, using submitted proposals from the course. The films may be distributed to local film festivals.
Martinez: I came to Tucson in August of 2010 to attend graduate school at the University of Arizona. I received my master’s degree in Mexican American Studies, and worked as a teaching assistant and summer class instructor. My undergraduate degree is in film and media, and I am interested in documentary work, so I developed an interdisciplinary education focusing on cultural and gender identity in film and media.
I came to Arizona just as SB1070 was passed into law and I began thinking about how people form opinions on certain topics, my research focused on how influential media are…I wanted to harness that energy and turn it into something positive.
Bitch Flicks: How did you get interested in film?
Martinez: I worked in human services for several years (treatment centers and homeless shelters for women). I worked second and third shifts so I got to visit with the women more and listen to their stories of struggle and empowerment. I would hear comments on the streets or from local agencies about how “they got what they deserved,” or “it’s their own fault,” and I was shocked. I thought if these women could share their stories with a wider audience, society may change its negative perspective about addiction, homelessness and domestic violence. That was when I decided to use film as a means of communication.
Bitch Flicks:Do you have a philosophy of film production that you teach your students?
Martinez: My philosophy on filmmaking is to enjoy what you do and don’t limit yourself. I think it is really easy for people to get caught up in the process of filmmaking, thinking they can’t afford the right camera, or a light kit or whatever. I try to encourage students to use what they have around them to tell their stories. It does not have to be “Hollywood” to be a successful film, it just has to be authentic because that is what’s missing in mainstream media today.
Bitch Flicks: What is your teaching style?
Martinez: I enjoy the sharing of ideas and inspiration. I try to avoid lectures and use a more conversational teaching method. I am so impressed by the students’ ideas and their outlook on the world. They approach things fearlessly, which inspires me to be fearless! Mutual learning is key!
We just had a week long workshop and none of the participants had ever done animation before, but by the end of the week they all created these amazing little animations with free apps they downloaded to their phones. It is truly amazing what you can do these days with technology!
Bitch Flicks: What do your students take from GFP?
Martinez: The goal is to teach them to look at media through a critical eye, the first course covers media literacy and we do fun projects looking at gender stereotypes, hypersexuality, and commercial advertising. One participant in our last session actually found an ad about how to be sexy with the flu!
We want them to have a sense of self confidence, familiarity with technology, and inspiration to keep creating once they leave. We encourage them to find ways to get their voices and messages out there whether through writing, film, music, dance… just to get them to take an active role with media and deconstruct mainstream media messages.
Bitch Flicks:Who are your students?
Martinez: We have been fortunate to have students with a variety of backgrounds. They come from all over Tucson and range from ages 12-17. There is economic diversity as well; some students bring in iPhones, others don’t have a computer at home. Because of generous grantors, the programming is free. I hope to keep things that way so that all women and girls (i.e., anyone who self-identifies as female) have the opportunity to participate.
Bitch Flicks: How long has GFP been around, and how many student have you taught?
Martinez: Not quite a year yet, we started last fall. We had the opportunity to work with a local charter school here in Tucson and have reached out to collaborate with many great non-profits. To date we have had approximately 35 participants, and we have an almost full class at the end of July (around 15 students).
Bitch Flicks:Where do you see GFP in five years?
Martinez: I would like it to be its own fully functioning non-profit providing after school programming and weekly workshops for young women and girls. There is so much potential and I hope it continues to grow. Pan Left Productions has been instrumental to Girls Film Project getting off the ground. We also received a grant from the Women’s Foundation of Southern Arizona Unidas Program, which provided economic support for the students productions and materials. We have also been discussing crowdsourcing as a means of fundraising.
Bitch Flicks:What are you influences?
Martinez: I was raised by a single mom who worked two jobs. We struggled but she did a great job raising two kids on her own. She was a powerful role model in my life.
As a young woman, I didn’t fit society’s vision of pretty. I was a total tomboy. I thought I was weird until I found other punk rock girls who weren’t afraid to get dirty and make some noise. For me, Kathleen Hanna was a HUGE influence. I was a teenager right around the time Bikini Kill was formed and seeing such powerful women, singing about serious topics and addressing issues of sexual abuse, rape and bullying made a profound impact on my life.
In high school, being in a band helped me to find confidence and gave me the opportunity to be heard as a woman. I was fortunate enough to meet some really great guys and we started a band called Fashion Sense. We were terrible but we had a lot of fun and it was a self-defining moment for me as punk rock allowed me to explore different notions of femininity than I had learned growing up.
My film influences vary greatly from Hitchcock to Tim Burton, but I will say PBS has always inspired me to think about topics I had previously thought were boring. I blame PBS for my love of new information!
There were parts of the short that I really loved. The variety of women–not just in terms of body type but also ethnicity–was wonderful to see captured on film. The scenes where the women were just hanging out being themselves were beautiful and really conveyed a sense of easy feminine bonding that is something unusual in a world where women are almost always conveyed as competing with each other.
The short filmShine describes itself on its website:
“10 young women were inhibited to come together, shed their layers and return to nature. By removing comparisons, competition and conditioning they were given a space to look inward.”
The short has been created by The Goddess Project,which aims to be a feature-length documentary about everyday women who realize their potential in order to change the world.
In Shine, 10 strangers are brought together. They take off their clothes to have their bodies painted and have pieces of nature glued to them so they effectively become living art.
There were parts of the short that I really loved. The variety of women–not just in terms of body type but also ethnicity–was wonderful to see captured on film. The scenes where the women were just hanging out being themselves were beautiful and really conveyed a sense of easy feminine bonding that is something unusual in a world where women are almost always conveyed as competing with each other.
The camaraderie in the short and the purpose of it–the stripping of outer clothes in order to turn inwards and find the qualities that make us as women feel beautiful and claim inspiration–was quite beautiful to watch.
However, while the cast was diverse and interesting, the vague neo-tribal atmosphere of the short made me feel a little squicky. The whole thing feels slightly orientalist and appropriative. The short does not reference a specific culture, but it has that sort of “back to nature” feel that is generally connected to the appropriation of native or indigenous cultures the world over. I am very wary of empowerment being discovered through appropriation and personally I think the short would have been much more powerful if it had delved more into the individual women’s experience of being naked with a bunch of other women they didn’t know.
The stills from the short of such a wide range of women are quite stunning so I do applaud the film makers for what they have undertaken, but it is important for empowerment not to come at the cost of further marginalizing certain groups of people.
Gaayathri Nair is currently living and writing in Auckland, New Zealand. You can find more of her work at her blog A Human Story and tweet her @A_Gaayathri.
Women are making strides when it comes to our place in movies, but in comparison to our male counterparts, we’re still just like Superman and Lois Lane. One of us can fly while the other is stuck with the bus.
This is a guest post by Heidi Philipsen-Meissner.
When I was a little girl, I had two all-time favorite hobbies. One was to get all the neighborhood kids together to create some sort of production. We didn’t have a film camera back then and video did not yet exist (at least not in my 1970s world), so that narrowed it down to micro-circus performances (the tire swing served as a trapeze act) or Xanadu-inspired roller skate music productions (complete with a ramp).
I was the writer, director, production manager, creative marketing manager, and the lead act. We had all the parents lined up at our very own, homemade, popcorn stand created from cardboard, and we charged 25 cents per bag. The entry fee for the act was a dollar.
My favorite performance included all of us girls and my brother dressed either as Wonder Woman with a lasso or as Sandy from Grease decked out in a “Pinkie” jacket and black leotard. We were fierce in our power to command the stage and demanded attention for our impromptu performance. I felt on top of the world. It never occurred to me that I might not be.
The other all-time favorite hobby of mine also involved performance, but this time as the spectator: going to the movies with my dad.
As I learned from episodes of The Brady Bunch and the occasional trip to my Auntie Neva’s house, most families during the 70s and 80s (when I was in elementary school and middle school) enjoyed a day devoted to the idea of the American family as a unit. They shared the day throwing a football around, playing cards, and eating a ceremonial meal together.
Not my family.
On those days, we split up, mom with son and dad with daughter, hitting the movies and celebrating cinema as if our lives depended on it. (Later in my life, after I had been raped in college, I would watch movies to escape and repress the post-traumatic stress I could not handle and, thus, my life did depend on cinema as therapy.)
It was around the age of 9 that I first started to realize that, as a girl, I might be getting the raw end of the deal in society. I was watching Superman.(Hard to believe that almost 40 years later they are still investing time, energy and money to bring that movie to the box office, but, heh, who am I to criticize?)
I loved the movie Superman. I had dreams of Christopher Reeve dressed up in tights for months thereafter and—I kid you not—every night after watching the movie, I chanted a silent prayer to myself before falling asleep: “Please let there be a real Superman, please let there be a real Superman, please let there be a real Superman!”
Movies with special effects were still a thing of unbelievable magic back then, and as a result of the persuasive productions, people often left movie theatres convinced of realities outside the one we know. I remember the local news aired a report encouraging parents to warn their kids not to jump out of windows or off roofs. Because, unlike what the movie made us believe, humans did not truly possess the mystical, physical power of flight with nothing but a cape to propel them up, up and away.
So here I was, a girl of 9, watching Superman with my dad and taking in this story about a guy who is not just the smartest on the block, but who could also defy the expectations of everyone around him. He ends up the strongest, sexiest, most handsome and genuinely wonderful man when trouble comes into town, and his helpless girl is threatened.
But that is not to say that Lois is completely devoid of talent. She is a smart, beautiful woman with great ambition and courage, going after the best story under the most dangerous of circumstances. Every guy in the movie (and movie theater, most likely) wanted her.
And yet, SHE wasn’t the hero. HE was.
So I suddenly realized, at 9, watching that movie, I came to a realization: “Why couldn’t I have been born a boy?” I thought sincerely, “Boys are able to DO so much more and be taken seriously.”
The rest, unfortunately still, as they say, is “his” story. Skip forward nearly 40 years later: I am still putting together “neighborhood productions,” only this time, on a much larger scale and with more “kids from around the block.”
Currently, I’m producing my second feature film, This is Nowhere, which I’m also co-directing and acting in. Fittingly enough, it is about a teenage girl who’s struggling to match the world of her dreams with the actual, uninspiring world that she wishes she could rise above or escape.
Otherwise, things have changed in the world around me, but not that much. (Remember what I mentioned earlier about the Superman sequel— it’s currently being shot, again, in Detroit – but this time with Batman!) And when it comes to opportunities within film industry— the industry in which I work —men still metaphorically soar above women.
According to an article in the Hollywood Reporterearlier this year, “A new report by the Women’s Media Center finds that women are still underrepresented on screen and behind the scenes in film and television. The report, which is a summary of original research done at USC, San Diego State and elsewhere over the past year, declared that ‘the American media have exceedingly more distance to travel on the road to gender-blind parity.”
Lois Lane still hasn’t gotten her shot at that front-page story.
Don’t get me wrong, women are making strides when it comes to our place in movies, but in comparison to our male counterparts, we’re still just like Superman and Lois Lane. One of us can fly while the other is stuck with the bus.
And though I sometimes miss being 9, I don’t miss the 1970s when there were only a couple of channels on TV and when the Internet did not exist. The latest movies could only be exhibited in controlled movie theatres.
Today, with all of the viable outlets for digital distribution and crowdfunding platforms (like Seed&Spark), we, as women, have our very own special power: the power of numbers and support. Locating content that fills the gender gap in storytelling has never been easier; we’re only a click away from watching films that appeal to us.
And THAT is an amazing power to possess. We can BE the change we want —and need —to see, both on and off screen, earning our wings in “her” side of history.
Heidi Philipsen-Meissner is a producer, writer, actress and director with 15 years of professional experience in international film, television and communications. Currently, she’s producing and co-directing her second feature film, This is Nowhere.
I had the wonderful opportunity to speak with Athena Film Festival co-founders Kathryn Kolbert, Constance Hess Williams Director, Athena Center for Leadership Studies at Barnard College, and Melissa Silverstein, Founder and Editor, Women and Hollywood. We discussed the upcoming festival, creating opportunities for female filmmakers, and the importance of seeing women leaders on-screen.
The Athena Film Festival “is an engaging weekend of feature films, documentaries and shorts that highlight women’s leadership in real life and the fictional world.” I had the wonderful opportunity to speak with Athena Film Festival co-founders Kathryn Kolbert, Constance Hess Williams Director, Athena Center for Leadership Studies at Barnard College, and Melissa Silverstein, Founder and Editor, Women and Hollywood. We discussed the upcoming festival, creating opportunities for female filmmakers, and the importance of seeing women leaders on-screen.
1. Megan Kearns: Why did you both start the Athena Film Festival?
Kathryn Kolbert: The festival started after an event at Gloria’s Steinem house that Melissa had organized to honor Jane Campion. Both of us were very struck by hearing the same thing from all the filmmakers who were there about the difficulty of having movies with strong female courageous women characters in their films. I had just started at Barnard at the Athena Leadership Center and really felt like we needed to focus some of our attention on changing what I call the “blink” — what do you think of, what do you see when you think leader or when you’re asked what does a leader look like. Most people respond to that by thinking of a white man with gray hair at the temples. I think our view was we need to change that in the wider culture. And we need to level the playing field for women or men who want to tell stories about great women leaders. From there, the festival was born.
2. Megan Kearns : I’m sure you both love all of the films showing at Athena Film Fest? Which films or panels are you the most excited about? If people can only see one or two, which are must-see?
Melissa Silverstein: Firstly, we are very excited for three films that would highlight our opening film, our centerpiece film and our closing film. They’re all really different.
Belle directed by Amma Asante, tells the true story of a woman from history who helped basically bring down the slave trade in England. Decoding Annie Parker, also based on true events about two women, not connected to each other but separately, who came up with the idea that breast cancer is passed down from person to person. And then lastly, the documentary on Geraldine Ferraro [Geraldine Ferraro: Paving the Way]. Those are the pieces that we’re holding up as our “tent poles,” as they say. And Megan, you write about Hollywood, you know those “tent poles” are never about women, right? So all of our “tent poles” are about women at the Athena Film Festival.
And then there are amazing nuggets and conversations going on here that I don’t want people to miss. I want people to get a film, and then a panel, and then a film and then a panel. Some of those highlights are, especially for your audience, the “Bechdel Test 2.0,” which is really asking people to look beyond just the Bechdel Test and beyond representation to how do we create more substantive leading roles for women. Amplifying women’s voices — we’ll talk about and feature people working behind the scenes to get more women-friendly and women-centric content out there. Also, some leaders who are leading that charge.
[Filmmaker] Lexi Alexander is coming. She made a big hoopla with her piece on what it’s like to be a woman director. The woman is just like raw energy rolled up into…I don’t even know what she would be rolled up into. She’s going to explode like a cannon, I have a feeling. She’s got a lot of things to say and she’s not afraid to say it. And in a business where people are afraid to say the truth, I think this could be a very revealing conversation.
Kathryn Kolbert: I would highlight that I’m going to be talking with Leymah Gbowee who is the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize Winner from Liberia. A woman whose story was told in the film Pray the Devil Back to Hell. And I think that helped to internationalize the unbelievable work that she did to create peace in a country that had been at war for many, many decades. If you’ve never had the opportunity to hear her, she’s just extraordinarily charismatic and interesting because she’s had a chance to visit with women all across the globe who are working for peace.
The second thing I think is really interesting across the festival is we have everything from a teenager sailing across the ocean alone [Maidentrip] to an animated film [Frozen], to women from all different countries around the world do many different kinds of things. I encourage people to go see more than one film, to come in and see 3 or 4, because that’s the story, that’s the subtext of what we’re doing that doesn’t get noticed until you’re seeing lots of things. The shorts are a really good example of that. Both shorts programs are great.
Melissa Silverstein: We curate a program that allows you to see all different kinds of women doing all different kinds of leadership. You have an opportunity to put together for yourself a vision of what you think films could be like and leadership could be like. I know the readers of Bitch Flicks like that vision and believe in that vision. By coming in and just sampling one or two things you get a little bit of it. But if you feel the breadth of it, you can understand the potential if we have more women’s stories in our culture.
3. Megan Kearns : How important do you think it is for people to see women in leadership roles on-screen?
Kathryn Kolbert: It’s incredibly important. Let me give you one piece of research that I think is extremely useful and telling in terms of what we’re trying to do here. A number of years ago in India, they passed what’s known as a reservations law which reserved a third of all town heads, the equivalent of mayors, around the country for women. They did that on a randomized basis so you could study what happened when women became mayors. Therefore, it couldn’t be attributed to something other than the gender of the women who ascended to these roles. Two things happened. One, the agendas of the women were different than the agendas of the men because they were listening more closely to both the men and women in the villages. The men’s agendas seemed to reflect the male leadership in the village. The women’s leadership reflected both the attitudes of male and female constituents. So the agendas changed.
But here’s the interesting piece that applies to our festival. What also changed was the aspirations of girls. When you had two women in a row who became mayors in their village, they believed and understood they could be a mayor themselves. That’s what this festival is all about. It’s how you inspire the next generation or the generation after that to ascend to leadership in whatever capacity they aspire to. Until they see people who are like them, in those roles, they won’t be able to do that as effectively.
Melissa Silverstein: So bringing in a person like Lexi Alexander, who has taken on — she doesn’t always think this is the thing she needs to do but she understands by putting this out there — she has taken on a responsibility. She wants this business to change. Not just for herself but for other women, the women who can’t get jobs and for the girls who want to see — as Kitty always says, “What do you think a leader looks like? The guy with gray hair at his temples.” When you ask girls, “What does a director look like?” They describe Steven Spielberg-like. We want girls to be able to dream, to see themselves as potential directors. That way we’ll have more stories about women, because we know the research shows that when you have more women behind the scenes, you have more stories about women.
4. Megan Kearns: There’s a panel on the Bechdel Test at Athena and last year 4 Swedish cinemas employed a Bechdel Test rating to indicate gender bias. How important do you think the Bechdel Test is?
Melissa Silverstein: I’m going to push back on you on the Bechdel Test. It’s not the beginning and it’s not the end. We get stuck in the fact that two women talking to each other about a man. Two women talking to each other about something other than a man is not enough. And should not be enough.
Kathryn Kolbert: If we put this in another context, it would be like saying because one Fortune 500 company has one woman on their board of directors, that the fight is over. It’s just beginning. It’s not really a fight. It’s an effort to bring parity in the world in a whole range of arenas. From my perspective, in terms of leadership, you only can change the world if women get beyond their gender and can contribute equally within any kind of organization or entity. And as long as they’re a minority, in any respect — whether it’s on-screen, behind the screen, directors, whatever role they’re playing — as long as they’re a minority, their gender is the only issue people are looking at them for, rather than the huge contributions they bring to the table. We believe in parity because it makes the product better.
Melissa Silverstein: What we’re trying to do with the Athena Film Festival is give women directors the opportunity to have their films at a first-class event and create conversations that show people — basically what we want to say is, it shouldn’t be a big deal to have six movies directed by women in a film festival. Yet, at all the film festivals I go to, it is always a big deal to see six movies by women. We want to create opportunities for them out there, they just don’t have the opportunity to be seen at this level. We want people to take them more seriously and we want people to understand that their work stands on its own. People in the film business need to look at this work a bit differently and to redefine what success is.
Kathryn Kolbert: We want to remember that men are allies in this as well. One thing that the Athena Film Festival has always stood for is it’s important what the story is, not necessarily the gender of the person who directed the film. While we do believe women directors need more opportunities, there’s no question about that, we also show movies by male directors who are telling stories of interesting, creative, courageous women because that needs to be part of the norm as well. The issue is not who made the film so much as what the film is contributing to the cultural conversation. From my perspective, in terms of how you change leadership, men and women need to work together to change what leadership looks like.
6. Megan Kearns: What are your thoughts on the Celluloid Ceiling’s Report that there hasn’t been progress for women in film in 16 years. How can we move past the “gender inertia” of film that Dr. Martha Lauzen talks about and achieve more diverse female representation in film?
Kathryn Kolbert: It’s not much different than any other major institutions in the country. Hollywood has despicable numbers but so do Fortune 500 companies, so do non-profits, so does the education sphere. All over the world, this is a problem, in terms of women and leadership roles. I think that the solutions are more complicated than any of us would like. It would be really nice if we could say there’s one thing that could be done and the problem is solved. It’s not that simple, nor do we believe that to be the case.
But I do think for Hollywood, there are two things that can make a significant difference. One is this myth that the major audience are 18- to 25-year-old guys. The blockbuster films are kind of geared toward that audience. In fact, women go to the movies, women are more likely to go to the movies when they’re not seeing blockbuster films for 18-year-old guys. That’s one really significant thing: the industry has to catch up to their own data.
Melissa Silverstein: It has to catch up to the rest of the country.
Kathryn Kolbert: The second thing is they have got to say this, they have got to admit that there is a problem. Until they do, it’s not going to change. To me, we need to call upon the leaders of the big studios to say openly that this is a problem, we’re going to address the problem, we’re going to work on the problem, and we’re going to quit ignoring it.
Melissa Silverstein: I agree. There has to be the will. Now there is no will. Now, Dr. Lauzen’s statistics, she’s been counting this for 16 years. I would venture to say that it’s been that bad for many more years than that. We just have those statistics for 16 years. This has been going on for decades.
But Hollywood is a business. These people’s jobs are to make money and the inertia comes from the fact that they continue to make money and they don’t see how bringing women into it will improve on their bottom line. They don’t see the need because their bottom line continues to grow. They’re contracting the amount of movies they’re releasing at the studios. As they contract, they make bigger “tent poles,” more boy-centric, more superhero-centric, more action-centric, more internationally-centric. All those issues lead into less and less opportunities for women.
Until somebody says, “I’m going to hire a woman to direct the next Marvel movie or the next Avengers movie, we’re going to have this conversation until we break through that glass ceiling. It’s got to happen at the top level.
7. Megan Kearns: Who are your favorite female filmmakers?
Melissa Silverstein: I’m a huge Lynn Shelton fan. I also feel like I’ve seen Nicole Holofcener’s body of work. There are many men you can say, “I’ve seen that person’s body of work.” There are not that many women where you can have the body of work and you can feel really connected to it. For me, I have that connection to Nicole Holofcener’s work. And I think one of my favorite movies of all time is Whale Rider. And Bend It Like Beckham.
Ten questions between filmmaker Morgan Faust and 13-year-old actress Rachel Resheff.
Morgan: The truth is when I was growing up in the 1980s, the child actresses were often given pretty syrupy roles (with the exception of Journey of Natty Gann and Labyrinth). It was the boys who got to have the cool movies–Goonies, Stand by Me, even The NeverEnding Story and E.T., which did have girls, but the boys were the heroes. That is why I write the movies I do–adventures films for girls–because that’s what I wanted to do when I was a kid, go on adventures, be the hero. I still do want that. I mean, who doesn’t?
This guest post by Morgan Faust appears as part of our theme week on Child and Teenage Girl Protagonists.
In 2010, Morgan Faust, (a 35-year-old female award-winning filmmaker) directed Rachel Resheff (a 13-year-old actress recently seen on Orange is the New Black) in a short film.
They have been friends ever since.
Recently, they asked each other each five questions about young women in the movies.
Here are their answers.
Morgan: Who is your favorite teen girl character and why?
Rachel: One of my favorite teen girl characters is probably Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter movies. She never failed to hold her own in these huge films, and it was so cool to watch Emma Watson grow more and more as an actress and as a character.
Rachel: When you are writing roles for teens, do you consider the current obsessions with social media and the current “hot topics”?
Morgan: Definitely. A recent script I wrote is about a young girl who is on a hunt for her missing sister. Social media plays a huge part. As screwed up as it can be, social media gives young people a huge amount of power through community that they never had before. Since I write about young women, that is especially exciting since I think it is one of the many ways in which we are seeing barriers being torn down through technology. But I am also 35, so as you know from working with me, I spend a lot of time talking with young women to make sure my characters sound like real teenagers, not weird 35-year-old people trying to sound like kids, especially when I am talking about “hot topics”….
Morgan: Which movie character is most like you?
Rachel: I think I am a lot like Emily from Pretty Little Liars (my favorite show). Emily is smart and driven. In the show, she faces many obstacles that can get in the way of her passion for swimming. I can relate to Emily because as I pursue my passion for acting, there are many obstacles that can get in my way and people who can try to put me down. Also, Emily, like me, finds time to still have fun and she stays close to the people who are always there for her.
Rachel: Do you ever write about experiences from your childhood?
Morgan: There is no other young woman I know better than the one still alive and kicking in my head. I often have to remind myself in situations that it is in fact I who is the grown-up. So, yeah, a lot of my personal stories end up in my writing. I grew up a tomboy, playing in the mud and jumping car batteries, and a lot of my characters end up that way. Since I write adventure and fantasy, usually my characters’ experiences are elevated beyond my own, but the feelings and the reactions are the same. I want to fill the screens with self-reliant young women who use their brains to solve problems and learn how to make good decisions, so when I write young women characters, I am often mixing “what I did do” with “what I wished I had done” (I think it’s only fair that my characters get to be cooler than me!).
Morgan: What do you think of the Disney Princesses?
Rachel: I think that the Disney Princesses made my childhood complete and I will forever be grateful for the impact they made on my life… seriously. But, I also feel that they can give little girls a false sense that every girl needs to be a princess with a Prince Charming. So much has changed with the idea of acceptance, and that’s why I think that the Disney Princesses are becoming a little bit different. They are not really the girls who get put into comas and need princes to come and wake them up anymore. Usually now, Disney Princesses are the ones doing the rescuing, which I think is symbolic of a lot of things that young girls should learn. Not that I have lived that long and I am that old, but I definitely have strong opinions about these sort of things.
Rachel: What is your opinion on the child starlets who have ended up in some trouble as young adults?
Morgan: As a woman old enough to be a mom, but without kids, I find myself torn on this issue. As the mom I will one day be, I see these young women expressing themselves often in incredibly sexualized ways and think, they have a responsibility as professional famous people to consider the impact they have on their fans. The unmarried, mom-less me can fully connect to the undeniable pressure they are under, the very real mental toll their lives have taken on them and their desire to just break free! All I can do as an artist is continue to try and create worthy, interesting and cool (which even using that word, I feel I am putting into question my ability to do so) young women on the screen that kids and teens (and grown-ups that like to watch teen movies…) connect with. Stories serve as more than just entertainment, they serve to help us invent our own codes of morality and integrity. I am not looking to make Little House on the Prairie-type characters devoid of darkness and flaws, but I do hope to put a lot more girls and women on the screen that don’t think their looks are the only important thing about them.
Morgan: What do you think of Miley Cyrus?
Rachel: I actually don’t have a problem with all of Miley Cyrus’s recent actions. I looked up to her when I was younger because she was a very positive role model to young girls. Now, in her new phase, she is trying to send a different message by saying that everyone should just be totally comfortable in their own skin and no one should care what anyone else thinks. I completely support her new views but sometimes, like in her VMAs performance or her appearance where she smoked a joint at the EMAs, she goes a little bit overboard. But, the idea of doing what makes her feel happy and comfortable is fine as long as she’s not doing something that can get her in jail or under psychiatric evaluation. Sometimes it seems that with child actors/ actresses who grow up in the public eye, they don’t want to be perceived the way they were when they were kids as sweet and innocent, so they can take it to extremes. I try to keep myself balanced as a child actress, and when I grow up, I will try my best to not let myself go crazy. Personally, “Nobody’s Perfect” by Hannah Montana (Miley Cyrus) will always be my jam no matter what.
Rachel: As a director, what do you look for in teens/young women, when you are casting?
Morgan: Personality, intellect, heart, a good work ethic, and connection. We’re going to be doing a lot of hanging out, so we better get along. They have to be right for the role, but if I connect with someone, I am willing to take a leap of faith that together we can grow the character to be a blend between the person I imagined, and the person they are.
Morgan: Do you think teenage girls are presented as too sexy or pretty normal in the way they dress and behave as compared to you and your friends?
Rachel: I don’t really feel that teens are presented as too sexy or anything like that. Typically, the teens in movies or TV shows usually dress and act similar to how my friends and I act at school or just in general. However, I find a lot of times that writers have the teens use a lot of text-talk and over-exaggerate the current obsession with social media. Sometimes the writing can become unrealistic or unnatural. I often recognize as the actress in the scene when something sounds like it is something a kid in my school could say or if it isn’t.
Rachel: Which child actresses from when you were a kid have influenced you as a writer/director and why?
Morgan: OK, she’s not exactly a kid, but definitely Jennifer Grey. Her role in Dirty Dancing was this smart, goofy, fearless, normal looking girl that just felt so real on the screen, and who succeeded through hard work and following her heart. It was sweet. I think about her a lot. She was just the perfect actor for the perfect role.
The truth is when I was growing up in the 1980s, the child actresses were often given pretty syrupy roles (with the exception of Journey of Natty Gann and Labyrinth). It was the boys who got to have the cool movies–Goonies, Stand by Me, even The NeverEnding Story and E.T., which did have girls, but the boys were the heroes. That is why I write the movies I do–adventures films for girls–because that’s what I wanted to do when I was a kid, go on adventures, be the hero. I still do want that. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s exciting to see more Hunger Games (well, at least the idea of Hunger Games, I’d prefer a more active protagonist who makes a decision every once in a while instead of just having a series of gut reactions, but that is a different interview…) and Divergent. Let’s keep ‘em coming on every budget level!
Morgan Faust started working in film as an intern for the Squigglevision classic Dr. Katz and never looked back. A graduate of Columbia University’s MFA program, she now works as half of BroSis, a brother/sister writing and directing team with brother Max Isaacson in Los Angeles, where they are finishing up their first feature script (a female-helmed actioner), and ramping up to direct a pair of films in 2014. Her short film Tick Tock Time Emporium won numerous film festivals and is distributed in the US, India, Greenland, Denmark, the Faroe Islands and is available online at Seed & Spark. Her other credits include Gimme the Loot (Editor), 3 Backyards (Editor) and Mutual Appreciation (Producer).
Rachel Resheff, age 13, began working at age 8 when she appeared in the indie film, 3 Backyards, where she first met Morgan Faust. Since then, Rachel has appeared in four Broadway productions, numerous Off-Broadway plays, films, and television (most recently in Orange is the New Black as Young Alex).
…the beauty of riot grrrl lies in the fact that we do get to remake our girlhoods, inserting anger and rioting where before there was quiet sadness and loneliness. It’s easy to flip back and forth between Bikini Kill and The Julie Ruin (and everything in between) and be catapulted back to a moment or into a moment. This idea that we can rewrite our histories and revise our futures by pressing “play” is woven throughout The Punk Singer. Creating ourselves in our rooms, and then stepping outside of our rooms and talking to one another and listening to one another is essential.
The Punk Singer, the Sini Anderson-directed Kathleen Hanna documentary released Nov. 30, is ostensibly about Hanna–the iconic feminist and punk artist, and iconic feminist punk artist. It is also, however, about the power of women collaborating. From Kathy Acker’s advice to Tobi Vail and Kathi Wilcox’s encouragement to Johanna Fateman’s zines and friendship, Hanna’s career trajectory from feminist punk singer to feminist pop singer to her current project, The Julie Ruin (a perfect combination of feminist punk and pop), has been shaped by female creative power and collaboration.
Hanna stresses the importance of not only girls’ individual power and creativity, but also the need for us to talk–and sing–to one another and to truly listen and believe. This is something that feminism consistently struggles with.
A sexist USA Today article by a female reporter about Bikini Kill and riot grrrl from the early 1990s was featured as a turning point in Hannah’s career. Hanna and her bandmates began a press blackout after the USA Today article and other mainstream press outlets framed the band and the movement around the performers’ bodies and clothes and focused in on their sexuality/sexual pasts.
How disappointing, then, that an NPR article about the new documentary and her project’s new album (The Julie Ruin’s Run Fast), leads with her “bra and panties” past, sexual abuse, and her looks (“She’s striking, with her jet-black hair, oval Modigliani face, pale Liz Taylor eyes…”). Even a Bitch Media reviewer says, while analyzing how riot grrrl was exclusive to white women, that Hanna’s beauty is “the elephant in the room” in the film (“She is one drop-dead-gorgeous-looking woman, both as a teenager and now as an adult. I would argue that it was her physical attractiveness helped her music get mainstream attention”).
Most interviews and reviews have steered clear of focusing on Hanna’s physicality and sexuality, thankfully, but it’s still disheartening and distracting to see any publication bringing up her looks as a source of commentary (and both are by female journalists). Indeed, the media blackout that Bikini Kill led in the 1990s isn’t needed now–Hanna brings up the changed media landscape in multiple interviews–and Hanna has been granting a great number of interviews in recent months as a lead-up to The Punk Singer and Run Fast.
We are lucky to be hearing Hanna’s voice as much as we are. She was diagnosed with late-stage Lyme disease in 2010 after suffering without a diagnosis for six years. The Punk Singer spends a great deal of time chronicling her illness–how it ended her musical career after Le Tigre (she says that she made the excuse that she was done with her music because she had nothing left to say instead of facing that she might not be able to do what she loved so much anymore).
The Punk Singer is a powerful showcase of the last three decades of not only Hanna’s life, but also the relationships and collaborations that shaped a generation of third-wave feminists and beyond. Footage from live performances and interviews, and personal films/photos are interwoven with interviews from Hanna’s contemporaries, bandmates, and journalists to tell a story about a feminist icon and a movement that would shape the future of music and feminism. Lynn Breedlove, Ann Powers, Corin Tucker, Kim Gordon, Joan Jett, and Adam Horovitz (her husband), among others, add powerful reflections to the history of the riot grrrl movement and Hanna’s professional and personal life.
The term riot grrrl itself had its origins in collaboration–Jen Smith (of Bratmobile and The Quails) talked about the need for a girl riot, and Bikini Kill’s Tobi Vail wrote about angry grrrls. The two terms combined to name a movement of in-your-face feminist punk music that fought against patriarchy and sexual assault with the motto “girls to the front” defining the ideology and the concert space–which was/is often a masculine, hostile space for women.
Breedlove–who provided some of the most poignant sound bites in the film–says that riot grrrl was about “girls going back to their girlhood… reclaiming their girlhood,” and pledging to “relive” their girlhood with power. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons that so many of us can plug in a Bikini Kill album at 20, 30, 40 and beyond, and feel catapulted back into a poster-filled bedroom, imagining ourselves as girls with power and strength, and revising our histories inside and outside of our girlhood rooms.
The goal of riot grrrl, Hanna and others in the DC-based movement said, was that women anywhere could take it and “run with it”–making it mean what it needed to mean for them. This one-flexible-size-fits-all goal of feminist activism is often difficult to actually manage, but for a moment in the 90s, there was a worthy effort. The repeated importance of fanzines highlights the importance of both collaboration and women’s authentic voices (even ones with “Valley Girl” accents).
The effort of the waves of feminism are highlighted in the documentary in a brief foray into history. While short and somewhat superficial (which is appropriate for the scope of the film), it was interesting and important that the coverage of first- and second-wave feminism noted that women “turned race consciousness on themselves” during the abolitionist movement of the first wave and the civil rights movement of the second wave. Savvy viewers will take that and understand what that means to the historical context of Western feminism (a meaning that is complex and problematic).
Collaboration hasn’t been a strong point for feminists throughout history. The air of critique surrounding Hanna’s beauty and privilege combined with the relative whiteness of riot grrrl both serve to create divisions and otherness within our own ranks. The job of this documentary isn’t to serve as an investigative piece into the beautiful whiteness of feminism–it’s to tell the story of one woman and her personal, professional, and political past and present.
When Bikini Kill broke up in 1997, Hanna recorded the album Julie Ruin under an assumed name (to “escape” what had happened to her in prior years–the bad, sexist press, the threats, the physical attacks).
Hanna says that in Bikini Kill, she was singing to the “elusive asshole” male. With Julie Ruin, she wanted to “start singing directly to other women.” She recorded the entire album in her bedroom, which she points out was purposeful and meaningful. She says that girls’ bedrooms are spaces of “creativity” and great power–but these rooms are set apart from one another; girls have this creativity and personhood in separated, “cut out” spaces. She wanted her album to feel like it was from a girl in her bedroom to girls in their bedrooms, and she succeeded.
She went on to form bands and perform with Le Tigre and The Julie Ruin, constantly revising and evolving the concept of feminist art and performance.
Throughout the documentary, Virginia Woolf’s words kept ringing in my ears–that women need “a room of one’s own” to create and be independent. For too long, women who have had the undeniable privilege of having rooms of their own have been doing so behind closed doors, apart from one another, as Hanna talks about in regard to Julie Ruin and how girls have these safe, powerful spaces that are set apart from one another.
And as Breedlove points out, the beauty of riot grrrl lies in the fact that we do get to remake our girlhoods, inserting anger and rioting where before there was quiet sadness and loneliness. It’s easy to flip back and forth between Bikini Kill and The Julie Ruin (and everything in between) and be catapulted back to a moment or into a moment. This idea that we can rewrite our histories and revise our futures by pressing “play” is woven throughout The Punk Singer. Creating ourselves in our rooms, and then stepping outside of our rooms and talking to one another and listening to one another is essential.
Continuous moving–rioting, dancing, singing, shouting, collaborating–is how we will survive and thrive, just as Hanna has. Her contributions to feminism and feminist culture (and great music) are undeniable, and The Punk Singer does a beautiful job of inviting us into her room, and making it our own.
The Punk Singer is available on Video on Demand and in select theaters.
When I was asked, “Who are you as a female filmmaker?” I immediately made a mental note. I’m a black, female filmmaker. I was reminded of the following quote from Gloria Anzaldúa: “A woman-of-color who writes poetry or paints or dances or makes movies knows that there is no escape from race or gender when she is writing or painting. She can’t take off her color or sex and leave them at the door of her study or studio. Nor can she leave behind her history. Art is about identity, among other things, and her creativity is political.”
This is a guest post by Ashley Ellis.
When I was asked, “Who are you as a female filmmaker?” I immediately made a mental note. I’m a black, female filmmaker. I was reminded of the following quote from Gloria Anzaldúa: “A woman-of-color who writes poetry or paints or dances or makes movies knows that there is no escape from race or gender when she is writing or painting. She can’t take off her color or sex and leave them at the door of her study or studio. Nor can she leave behind her history. Art is about identity, among other things, and her creativity is political.”
This resonates with me, especially when “political” is used in the broadest sense of the word. Respected artists aren’t afraid to present their point of view. A strong point of view comes directly from an innate sense of self. And when that self is part of a small minority in its space, suddenly what that self has to say can literally or figuratively, in the real world or in art, speak for many voiceless people. In other words, it becomes political. It’s no wonder that I was invited to write this post because of the Seed & Spark campaign for a film I directed, Fixed, which is about a black, closeted homosexual who commits suicide (spoiler alert!).
I don’t want every film I make to focus on a hot topic social issue, but every step forward in my very young career has been made by embracing being black and being a woman, and attempting to be in the film industry, which could be viewed as a negative, a disadvantage, a challenge, or anything otherwise BAD. I have examples:
Having a High-Pitched Voice and “Soft” Presence
Sometimes, speech determines how seriously people take you. I’ve become more aware of my voice, but I remember interviewing Georges Michel, Haiti’s Jack of All Expertise, for a documentary I was making after the quake. We sat down, and completely unaware of my voice, I asked him to introduce himself. He did, and then said that he’d be willing to answer any questions that I had. He had no doubt that I was coming from genuine place. The same applied when I interviewed two HIV positive women in Botswana who had lost young children to complications from the AIDS virus. They recounted the last moments of their baby’s lives. As we cried together, I knew that I was in a unique position to capture their stories. I’d made them comfortable enough to open up.
Literally Standing Out
Being one of the few people who looks like me on set or in the screening or at the event isn’t any different from being one of the only in my childhood community, classes, or teams. I’ve had plenty of time to get comfortable with it. We need more representations of women of color in Hollywood – of course – but I could dwell in a pool of sorrow or capitalize on a point of connection and conversation with people who may otherwise not have noticed me. I often have the least forgettable face.
Being What Could Be Called a Chronic 2nd Guesser
I stopped myself on set once, because I kept asking the Director of Photography what he thought whenever I could. It felt like a bad thing. The director should know what (s)he wants! But then I thought, “Actually, I do!” And as long as my opinion and thoughts are expressed there’s no good reason why I shouldn’t ask the rest of my team for their knowledgeable input. Filmmaking is collaborative, and being a leader is about being diplomatic. So, I’m OK with the too-often-attributed-as-feminine-and-bad trait.
Being a Part of a Teeny Tiny Community
There’s certainly strength in numbers, but there’s also strength in small groups that truly come together. Part of the magic that happens on film sets is that people develop inextricable bonds, but couple that environment with the well -known truth that black filmmakers and actors are still struggling for space in Hollywood, and it’s easy to make friends ready to go on the warpath with you. This was apparent when we made Fixed, which was written, directed, and produced by ladies and had a long list of talented black actors, many of whom didn’t need to sign on to a low budget short film but saw the vision and importance of it.
I could go on… Like the time when my friend James told me that I was the silliest director he’d ever worked with while on the set of MoRemi’s music video for “Femi.” It was her first time making a video. There was no reason that we shouldn’t have been having fun. It wasn’t until James added that I was a welcome reprieve from the stern faced male directors he knew that I understood it was a compliment. Yet best of all, I’ve been blessed with amazing mentors like Adrienne Miller, Priscilla Cohen, Anne-Marie Mackay, Stewart Stern… Coleman Hough, all of whom have taken the time to help me develop my mind and voice, because they all believe that diversity in cinema means better cinema. So, who I am as a filmmaker is one who looks on the bright side. I’ve never truly felt limited. Two of my first cinematic influences, my mother and my grandmother, celebrated Disney films and romcoms, yes, but I went to the theater at least four times as a little girl with my mom so that she wouldn’t have to see Casino alone. My grandma would deal with my childhood nightmares post The Exorcist faster than she would sit through Cinderella. I suppose if I grew up watching everything imaginable that represents good cinema, it’s easy for me to believe that I can make anything imaginable and be a good filmmaker, while being black and being a woman.