‘Best Friends Forever’ TV Series Focuses on Two Female Friends, Which Must Infuriate Sexist ‘Two and A Half Men’ Creator

Lennon Parham and Jessica St. Clair in NBC’s Best Friends Forever


 “Hey, you always have a choice when it comes to your vagina.”
So says Lennon on NBC’s new sitcom that premiered last night, Best Friends Forever. And yes, you do have a choice, when it comes to vaginas and other things. So should you choose to watch the new female-fronted show?
When I first saw the trailer, I was ecstatic. I mean, a TV show putting two women front and center, even in their title??? Yes, please! 
Written, produced and starring real-life friends Jessica St.Clair and Lennon Parham, it also features Alexa Junge as producer and showrunner. After her husband serves her divorce papers, Jessica (St. Clair) moves from California back home to Brooklyn to live with her best friend Lennon (Parham) and her live-in boyfriend Joe. As Jessica and Lennon reminisce and bond, Joe (Luka Jones) feels left out.
Best Friends Forever is witty, funny and surprisingly sweet and tender. Parham and St. Clair share an effortless chemistry. The characters are likeable and interesting. While it seems like it might suffer from predictability – a Three’s Company premise, Joe seems like he might be a stereotypical man-child (like when he creates a female video game avatar with ginormous boobs), vagina talk between Jessica and Lennon – it possesses realistic dialogue and its humor isn’t mean-spirited. Jessica is snarky but not deemed a shrew. Lennon is nurturing but not a doormat. Lennon and Joe’s relationship is refreshingly egalitarian and uber adorbs as they bond over their shared love of Braveheart and Medieval Times. Neither gender is portrayed as superior and as Rachel Stein at Television Without Pity points out, “it weighs men and women equally.”
Best Friends Forever passes the Bechdel Test, which so few films and TV shows do. The female friendship is clearly  front and center. Talking about the show’s premise:
Lennon: “Essentially it’s a story about two best friends who are so close — it’s like that romantic relationship that girls have in middle school that travels with them.”
Jessica: “Someone brought this up to us: The word ‘friendsbians.’ You’re so close you might as well be having sex, but you’re not. [Laughs.] So really it’s a love story about two women. It’s a romantic comedy, but instead of a boy and girl, it’s Jessica and Lennon.”
Parham and St. Clair hope the series “fills the void” that Sex and the City, Gilmore Girls and Anne of Green Gables has left. Okay, as a huge SATC and Anne Shirley fan, I so heart that.
You can sense that the two leads share a history, finishing each others’ sentences, discussing dinner parties and whipping up homemade Scoops (um, which sound delish btw), and using a movie (in this case weepy Steel Magnolias and “pulling a Shelby” if you rush into major life decisions) to give advice about life, which is unusual in the pilot as most shows take at least a season or two to sink into the camaraderie. 
Yes, it’s problematic the characters are white and straight, aside from neighbor Queenetta (Daija Owens), the ubiquitous precocious child and the stereotypical sassy black girl…as if all black girls must be sassy. Although I’ve got to admit, she delivered one of the funniest lines of the episode when she said, “There’s a new baby in my house and I don’t like the way it smells!”
“Enough, ladies. I get it. You have periods…But we’re approaching peak vagina on television, the point of labia saturation.”
Oh that’s right. Women shouldn’t write, create, act or do anything. Cause you know all we ladies care about? Our fucking periods. Silly me for forgetting that. Thankfully fab feminists Martha Plimpton and Lizz Winstead among others called out this douchebaggery.
While it seems that there’s been a surge in female-centric comedies, Aronsohn’s bullshit sexist comments about vagina saturation is just that. Bullshit. Because if you look at the actual numbers, it’s not so. If you look at the female-fronted TV shows, they may be ensembles but they rarely focus on female friendship. 2 Broke Girls and Parks and Recreation(although not really this season) are the only other TV shows on right now that revolve around 2 female best friends.
As Amy Tennery at The Jane Dough, using data from Women’s Media Center, points out last TV season, women only comprised 15% of writers (!!!) and “the closest we’ve ever come to having parity with guys was in 2009 when women comprised 39% of television entertainment producers.” So there must be surge of women as TV characters then for Lee’s tirade, right?? Nope. Women constitute approximately 40% of TV characters (41% according to WMC, which doesn’t include last season, and 43% according to GLAAD). Um yeah, douchebag…that’s not exactly “peak vagina” season, whatever the fuck that is.
Is it the best comedy on TV right now? No, although it might be too early to tell. Parks and Rec still holds that title for me, followed closely by Community and Up All Night. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have oodles of potential. It made me laugh out loud. Something very few comedies actually do. And we desperately need more women writers and female characters. With two smart, funny ladies at the helm, I’m curious to see where Best Friends Forever goes.

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.

TEDx Women: Rachel Simmons

We know that one of the causes of the lack of diverse representation of women in media and film is that there are not enough women behind the camera, not enough women telling their stories, and not enough of these stories being produced. 
We also know that media both reflects and shapes the culture. The (excellent) tagline of the documentary film Miss Representation comes to mind here: “You can’t be what you can’t see.” From childhood, girls see representations that reinforce the idea that girls are secondary to boys. As they grow up, the disparity continues. Geena Davis’ Institute on Gender & Media has reported that in family films males outnumber females 3 to 1 and females are almost four times as likely as males to be shown in sexy attire. We know that these statistics don’t improve in media for young or adult women.
Rachel Simmons’ talk at TEDx Women suggests that as young women grow up, the media barrage telling them that they can be powerful, as long as they don’t offend anyone, sends mixed messages that, along with institutional sexism, prevents women from achieving leadership positions:

I’m convinced a psychological glass ceiling exists as well. And it begins as a product of a culture that is telling girls “Yes, but.” Yes, you can be powerful, but you still be nice while you do it. Yes, you be smart, but make sure you don’t make anyone uncomfortable with your intelligence. Yes, you can be active, but you be sexy and skinny while you do it.

In other words, Simmons argues that enlightened sexism is holding women back, even at a time when women in the United States outpace men in education (women have higher rates of high school graduation, college attendance, and college graduation), women remain a significant minority in positions of leadership.
In Hollywood? We know how women currently fare there.
Watch the Rachel Simmons video, with an introduction and personal story about female friendship from Claire Saninni:
Also check out TEDx talks from the founder of Girls Club Entertainment, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, and filmmaker Tiffany Shlain, two women who have taken the reigns to make media of their own.

Lena Dunham’s HBO Series ‘Girls’ Preview: Why I Can’t Wait to Watch

(L-R): Jemima Kirke, Lena Dunham, Alison Williams in HBO’s ‘Girls’
I cannot tell you how ecstatic I am to see Lena Dunham’s new HBO series Girls. I mean, April 15th…hurry up and get here already damnit! After the first 3 episodes received rave reviews at SXSW, the buzz swirling around the indie darling’s new show has grown even louder. And with good reason.
From the trailer, here are just a few of the clever lines that made me laugh out loud:
“I’ve been dating someone who treats my heart like it’s monkey meat.”

 “I think I may be the voice of my generation. Or at least, a voice of a generation.”

“This is why you have no friends from pre-school.”
“I have a lot of friends from pre-school. I’m just not speaking to them right now.”

“You could not pay me enough to be 24 again.”
“Well, they’re not paying me at all.”

Created by the ridiculously talented Dunham, who wrote, directed and starred in Tiny Furniture, and executive produced by Judd Apatow and Jenni Konner, some have called Girls a “game-changer” and claim it “solidifies Dunham’s place as a bold new voice in American comedy.” Considering there’s so few leading roles for women, so few films or series that showcase female friendships and even fewer women in Hollywood write and direct, it’s refreshing to see Dunham spearhead an HBO series.
Explaining her motivation to create Girls, Dunham said:
“I felt like there wasn’t a pop culture mirror reflecting girl my age experiencing the trials and tribulations of being female at this specific time.”

Dunham plays editorial intern and aspiring writer Hannah, “a post-college Brooklynite with big if uncertain ambitions, a perpetual lack of money and a coterie of friends with personal lives as jumbled and complicated as her own.” While Dunham’s vision – she writes, directs and stars in Girls – this appears to be very much a female ensemble. The other female characters include Marnie (Alison Williams), Hannah’s “seemingly perfect,” “more put-together roommate” working at a PR firm looking to practice environmental law; Jessa (Jemima Kirke), a “headstrong,” “loosey-goosey free spirit” who yearns to be an artist/educator; and Jessa’s “innocent” cousin Shoshanna (Zosia Mamet).
“These characters are a really funny mix of sort of highly educated and very naïve…Every woman I know is such a bundle of contradictions. It was so important to me that there could be a girl who was confident but sex made her incredibly anxious, or a girl who respected herself but was using sex to push boundaries to understand herself better.”

As to why the show is called “Girls” and not “Women,” which I gotta admit is probably the one thing that irked me about the show (I hate the infantilizing term “girls” for grown ass women), Dunham says the female characters wouldn’t self-identify as “women” yet and occupy “that specific in-between space (not a girl, not yet a woman).” Okay, that makes sense.
But haven’t we seen this before? What about Sex and the City or Gossip Girl? Or 30 Rock and Parks and Rec? Or the new slew of female-centric comedies like 2 Broke Girls, The New Girl, Whitney or Up All Night? Well first of all, that’s sexist (and just plain stupid) to assume all shows featuring women are the same. I mean, how many shows feature vampires in love triangles or middle-age-men-who-act-like-boys or DNA-examining crimefighters?? But nope, Girls looks different. And here’s why. In all those shows, women have established their careers and/or relationships or at the very least know the direction they want to go. Most of them also sound painfully forced, lacking any shred of authenticity. Dunham wanted to address that confusing, nebulous time in women’s post-college lives when they don’t have a clue as to who they are or know what the hell they want to do (for some of us, this continues into our 30s…). It’s about trying new things, fucking up, and finding yourself along the way.
Talking about Girls and other shows, Dunham said:
“I really like all the new network “girl” shows. But someone once described the attitude of women on network TV as “Check it out, guys: ladies be talkin’!” And I think we were really careful about anything that rung false…

“The stuff that I’m naturally drawn to writing is stuff I’ve felt but haven’t seen. I’d seen “Gossip Girl,” which was an aspirational high school story. And “Sex and the City,” which I grew up on and completely respect, was about women who had figured out the career, figured out their friendships and were really trying to lock the love thing down. To me there’s this time of life where you don’t even know what you want, and you don’t know how to want it. It’s much more abstract and wandering.”

Exploring female friendship, sex, dating douchey guys, abortion (SO few shows deal with abortion…huzzah!) living in the ridiculously expensive yet awesome NYC – it looks like Girls contains awkward, painful yet ultimately funny moments that “resonate” with many of us. I may not be 24 anymore and I’m not financially privileged. I supported myself after high school, paid my own way through college and don’t live in NYC (yet). But watching the clips – hearing Dunham’s thoughts and the way the female characters interact with one another – feels like A LOT of my life. In the trailer, Hannah says,  “My entire life has been one ridiculous mistake after another.” YES!!! I mean, aren’t we all trying to figure shit out and find ourselves or our path in life??
Dunham clearly looks at the world through a feminist lens (does she call herself a feminist? I hope so…that would be badass) as she wants to focus on female relationships. In addition to Girls and Tiny Furniture, she curated a film series called “Hey Girl! Lena Dunham Selects” (running April 2-8) for the BAMcinématek, the film program of the Brooklyn Academy of Music.
Lena Dunham possesses a fresh, hilarious, intelligent and raw voice. Buoyed by funny dialogue, her must-see film Tiny Furniture makes astute commentaries on gender, body image, sex, dating and female relationships. But I also found myself irritated it didn’t move at a faster pace. I eventually realized I was partly annoyed because Dunham makes you witness uncomfortably awkward moments and doesn’t let the audience off the hook. She forces you to squirm right alongside her compelling characters, feeling their pain. After reading interviews and watching the trailers, it sounds like Girls will continue her theme of candor, humor, poignancy and self-discovery.
We desperately need to hear more feminist voices. I’m delighted Dunham’s getting a bigger stage in which to share her hilarious observations and vision of the lives some women lead.
Girls premieres on April 15 on HBO.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Ann Perkins and Me: It’s Complicated

Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins
This is a guest post from Peggy Cooke.
 
I feel guilty bringing up Ann Perkins in any discussion of Parks and Recreation, mainly because the positive relationship between Ann and Leslie is one of the main things that makes the show so great (and groundbreaking!) for many people (read: feminists) I talk to about it, but: I don’t like Ann Perkins.

When Ann was introduced in the pilot episode of the NBC sitcom as a disgruntled citizen at a public forum being hosted by Leslie Knope of the Parks and Rec Department of Pawnee, Indiana, she seemed to be one of the many cranks with whom Leslie tends to deal on a regular basis. Some of the funniest recurring characters on this show are the kooky folks who keep turning up to these forums, most notably the sprinkler-tea-making, poop-eating-dog-having woman who constantly blames her alarming lack of basic health knowledge on local government; and the “except for Turnip! Except for Turnip!” chanting guy who is a favourite in our household. But no, Ann had a legitimate complaint about a pit into which her boyfriend had recently fallen, a pit whose betterment would form the main goal of the show’s first (and worst) season.

The fact that Ann and Leslie got off to an antagonistic beginning makes it even more wonderful that they were able to become best friends, brilliantly subverting the cat fight trope that most other sitcoms would have gone with. Throughout the series Ann and Leslie have butted heads, but always remained respectful of each other, and their relationship is one of the best examples of female friendship in pop culture today. It is real, and it is lovely, and it is one of the two main purposes I believe the character of Ann serves on the show.

Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins
The other purpose, which was used brilliantly in the second season and half of the third, was as a kind of “only sane man” counterpoint to the Parks and Rec department (for what I hope should be obvious reasons, the “only sane man” trope will be from hereon out referred to as “only reasonable person,” or ORP). As the only main character not working at City Hall, Ann was able to provide a lens through which your average viewer could watch the story unfold, and I believe that in the capacity of ORP she prevented the writers from making the world they had created too insulated and self-referential. The show is a successful satire in part because it never gets too carried away or too cartoon-y. Making fun of local government isn’t entertaining if only people who work in local government get the jokes.

Until the arrival of the state auditors in season three, Ann perfectly fulfilled the role of ORP. However, gradually Ben began to usurp that role, with his Jim Halpert-esque glances into the camera, and his total confusion over the appeal of Li’l Sebastian (“he just whinnied!”). Even though he worked at City Hall, Ben was more of an outsider than Ann – he’s not from Pawnee, after all. This easily set up Ann’s transition to actually working at City Hall, which makes it easier to explain why she is always there, but takes away a vital aspect of her character’s purpose.

I still believe Ann should be on the show because, like I said, her relationship with Leslie is pretty much the best thing on TV right now. But I find it somewhat ironic that a character who is part of such a feminist depiction of female relationships – that manages to be both aspirational and realistic – is so utterly two-dimensional that it seems she is only on the show to fill that role. Part of this could be due to Rashida Jones’ questionable acting talent (you have to admit she is the weak link in an otherwise phenomenal cast), but mostly I believe it is a rare lazy tendency on the part of the writers. Now that she is no longer the ORP, what is the point of Ann? Why can’t they seem to flesh her out a little?

Mark and Ann
One of my main issues with the portrayal of Ann is in her romantic relationships, which alternately make me cringe, and bore me to tears. The Mark-and-Ann (“Anndanowitz”) arc of season two was so dull I wanted to leave the room every time they were onscreen. Ditto Chris and Ann, who had zero sexual tension, and whose only moment of interest came about a week after they broke up, when Ann finally found out (and honestly, the best part of that storyline came from Leslie reciting the horrible ways in which various men have called it off with her).

The flipside of the boredom is the cringing. Andy and Ann were terrible together, a fact which the show (and pretty much every character in it) has at least had the decency to acknowledge. The whole concept of Ann being attracted to Andy because she needs someone to take care of is so played out, and it was great to see the writers just stick that whole mess on a shelf and get Andy and April together, because they are a) a way better match, and b) adorable.

And then there’s Ann and Tom. Holy crap, is this a bad idea or what? It’s all the cringe-worthy grossness of Ann and Andy, all the boredom of Mark and Ann, and about the same amount of chemistry as Ann and Chris. Minus a million. First of all, Ann has never shown anything but contemptuous tolerance (is that a thing?) for Tom since the beginning. His maturity level alone is enough to tell her that he’s not worth her time. Earlier in the series, any time Tom hit on Ann it was so clearly a joke, I don’t think any fan of the show would ever be cheering for these two to get together. What possible madness seized the writers’ room and made them think this was a good idea?

Tom and Ann
There have been a couple of great moments of Ann calling Tom out on his custom-hats, waiting-in-the-rain bullshit, but no moments at all that would indicate that Ann is even interested in being with Tom. In the recent episode “Sweet Sixteen” they had a perfect set up to end it – ie they both realized the numerous reasons they were incompatible – but inexplicably got back together at the end of the episode in a dialogue we weren’t even shown, probably because the writers didn’t know how to write it, because what would they say?

Ann: Hey we aren’t compatible at all and I kinda don’t even like you. Your constant objectification of me and lack of respect for my basic humanity tend to somehow make both of us less appealing.

Tom: Yeah. Oh well, what else do you have going on?

Ann: Apparently nothing. Let’s ride this out.

I mean, seriously. Many people seem ready to give this otherwise terrific show the benefit of the doubt, but I’ve already had enough of waiting for Ann’s storylines to appeal to me. And the line at the end of the record studio episode where Ann agrees to go out with Tom, saying that he “wore [her] down,” would have made me quit on a less consistently feminist show. That shit is not cool.

In my (obviously super correct and valuable) opinion, Ann needs to be a lot more three-dimensional before her storylines are all taken up with relationship plots, much like in life how relationships always work out better when you’re cool with yourself first. As a viewer, I would like to care as deeply about Ann as I do about Leslie (and let me tell you something, that is pretty deeply) before I will care about how she fares in a relationship with some dude.

On the flip side of that, I need Tom’s ridiculous antics to be something we are supposed to laugh at; not something that is validated by relationships with women who are way too good for him. And we all know that Ann is probably way too good for Tom; we just need the story to show us that. Otherwise what message are we supposed to take from what used to be the most progressive show on TV?

———-

Peggy Cooke is a Canadian feminist who works as a non-profit staffer by day and a reproductive justice rabble rouser by… later that same day. Her resume has been described as “fascinating.” She writes about abortion at Anti-Choice is Anti-Awesome and Abortion Gang, and she reviews fiction set in Toronto at Smoke City Stories.

‘Albert Nobbs’ Review: Exploring Constrictions of Gender & Class

Mia Wasikowska and Glenn Close in ‘Albert Nobbs’
“You don’t have to be anything but what you are.” Hubert Page (Janet McTeer) tells the titular Albert Nobbs played by Glenn Close. But in a time where women possessed no status, no rights – when your only options were as a wife, servant or prostitute – how could you be yourself if you yearned for another life?

Haunting and sad, Albert Nobbs tells the tale of a woman who disguises herself as a man in order to survive in 19th Century Ireland. A “labor of love” and a “dream fulfilled,” Oscar nominee Glenn Close, who co-wrote the screenplay, tried to get Albert Nobbs made into a film for 30 years. Adapted from the play, which Close starred in on Broadway in 1982, is itself adapted from George Moore’s short story. Moore’s books were controversial “because of his willingness to tackle such issues as prostitution, extramarital sex and lesbianism.” Rodrigo Garcia’s poignant film Nine Lives, which Close also appeared in, showcasing 9 vignettes of women’s lives, is one of my favorite films. So my expectations were high for Albert Nobbs.

Was this a “jaw-dropping performance” by Glenn Close? She was absolutely outstanding. I didn’t realize at first just how good of a job she did until I realized I completely forgot that it was Glenn Close! I’m used to seeing her play strong, confident or assertive women. Here, Close plays a character shy, awkward, guarded and desperately lonely. She melts into the role. She’s as straight-laced and tightly wound as the prim and proper world around her. 

It might be easy to initially dismiss Close’s performance as merely donning make-up and male garb, forever sporting a stoically immutable countenance. But Close completely lets go in Albert’s few aching outbursts of emotion. With a child-like naïveté, Close played Albert as an “homage to Charlie Chaplin.” About the role, she said:
“Albert was particularly tricky because there’s always the question of how much should show on her face because a lot of it is somebody who’s totally shut down, who doesn’t even look people in the eye. Servants weren’t supposed to look people in the eye, but she’s an invisible person in an invisible job. And then her whole evolution is slowly being able to look up – the first time she really looks someone in the face is after she’s told Hubert her story and then she kind of looks out to her dream.”

Janet McTeer and Glenn Close
Albert’s world begins to change after she meets outgoing house painter, Hubert Page (McTeer). In her well-deserved Oscar-nominated role, Janet McTeer exquisitely steals every scene. Hands down, she’s the absolute best part of the film. I couldn’t wait until her magnetic presence appeared on-screen again. McTeer, who plays the qualities of the character, not the gender, exudes a soulful swagger and charismatic kindness. She radiates confidence, warmth and a bold assertiveness. McTeer, also playing a woman in disguise, possesses a strong sense of self, the complete polar opposite to Albert who has no idea who she is as a person. About her character, McTeer said:
“I tried to be, on the one hand, very male, by which I mean large and expansive and confident and sitting on the back of the heels, as it were, and on the other hand I wanted [my character] Hubert to have as many as what we consider to be the loveliest of the female qualities — empathy, compassion, kindness. I wanted Hubert to be a really good mixture of both.”

It’s the embodiment of these qualities that makes Hubert unique. But we also see this mélange in Albert. Helen (Mia Wasikowska) tells Albert, “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met.” What makes Albert so strange? Is it that she treats women with thoughtfulness, kindness and equity stereotypically lacking from the other men Helen met?

After Albert meets Hubert, she realizes she could have a life of companionship. SPOILER -> Hubert is married to a woman she adores and a beautiful scene between the two portray a tender, loving and devoted couple. <- END SPOILER Hubert gives Albert hope for a different future: a life free from the shackles and confines of loneliness. In a bittersweet scene, Hubert and Albert walk along the beach together. Albert in a dress, the first she’s worn in 30 years, runs along the beach. Reminded of her old identity, in a rare expression of emotion, she’s unconstricted, buoyed by freedom and sheer joy.

Many movies contain cross-dressing plotlines for comedic effect. But not a lot exist that focus on gender-bending from a dramatic angle. Boys Don’t Cry and Transamerica explore the lives of a trans man and woman while Yentl and The Ballad of Little Jo both echo Albert Nobbs as they feature women who choose to live as men in order to survive or pursue their dreams. An act of violence as a young girl catalyzes Albert to live as a man to protect herself and survive.

Critics have focused on the gender components. But class, an equally important theme, threads throughout the entire film. Albert Nobbs depicts how women contended with and endured poverty. We witness the stark dichotomy between the lavishly wealthy clients and the servile wait staff in the hotel. Servants in the Victorian Era were to be invisible, never looking the upper class in the eye. With her downcast eyes, Albert remains dutiful. Yet she begins to aspire for more. Albert has been saving her money all her life and hopes to open a shop of her own.

The film portrays relationships and courtship as an economic contract. When Albert courts the coquettish Helen (Wasikowska), Helen expects and asks for all sorts of gifts and trinkets. SPOILER -> We also see class play out after Helen gets pregnant. Women needed men in order to survive financially. Women who give birth to children out of wedlock were punished fiscally, fired from their jobs. Husbands provided fiscal security. <- END SPOILER Gender and class coalesce. You realize Helen’s gender and station in life condemn her situation. Albert and Hubert would never be able to attain their dreams (and Hubert her independence) had they retained their identity as women.

I perpetually worry audiences watch period films with dangerously confining gender roles and then sit back thinking, “Phew, we’ve come so far!” Yeah, no, we so haven’t. Albert Nobbs raises so many thought-provoking questions. Why is the male gender the more “desirable” gender in society? What does it say about a society where half its population has a mere two options for their lives? How can women take charge of their own lives amidst confining gender norms? But therein lies my problem with the film. It provides no conclusions, the answers remain elusive. 

It’s a slow and unassuming movie that at times moves at a methodical pace. But the more I pondered, the more I realized the film possessed many intricate layers. Throughout we see women’s perspectives and hear women’s voices. Albert Nobbs contains not one but two powerful female actors with other women in memorable supporting roles; a film rarity. Neither Albert or Hubert are defined by their gender or sexuality. They both transcend gender.

The tragic story of Albert Nobbs lingered in my memory long after I left the theatre. Its exploration of female friendship, lesbian love, class and poverty, gender roles and a woman’s self-discovery, truly make it a rare gem. 

True Camaraderie: Don, Peggy, and Something to Prove

Don Draper and Peggy Olson
For me, the most endearing element of Mad Men is the humorous and detailed portrayal of developing friendships. Amidst the drinking, cheating, and general woes of the ad agency is the story of office camaraderie.  There have always been back stories on different relationships that developed at Sterling Cooper, such as the friendship between Roger and Joan, but season four spends a great amount of time further delving into those relationships. It paints a picture of a time where business loyalty meant a commitment from both sides.
Now that the operations are smaller, there is an even closer knit of relations in the office. Season four gave us such delights as Don and Lane taking in New Year’s Eve, as well as offering a closer look into the drunken camaraderie between Don and Roger. Indeed, Don is a man of many women and men, but of all his office friendships, none compare to his kinship with Peggy. From early in the show, Don and Peggy had a professional and personal spark. Don gave Peggy an opportunity to nurture her talents, and while their story isn’t always happy, they are able to understand each other in a way that surpasses all other office duos. In spite of their differences, Don and Peggy share a common fight to be where they ought not be. It is in this fight for survival that the two trade-off dishing out tough love and gentle support.
Don and Peggy’s friendship did not develop overnight and there are clear and present power dynamics that complicate affairs. There are the obvious gender roles at play and the fact that Don is Peggy’s superior. Don also has a short temper and a tendency to project onto Peggy a lot of his own feelings of inadequacy. And while Peggy is hurt by Don’s verbal outbursts she is engaged in self reflection, and mostly welcoming of his mentorship.
It seems obvious to me that Don’s interest in Peggy is directly related to his own struggles with entitlement. Don wasn’t born with money or a name. He didn’t inherit his position in the company or marry into an account. He used his creative “genius” to con his way into a job and rise to the top of his field. This both limits him and gives him strength. He has less to lose, and that allows him to take greater risks. Don sees the way Peggy takes risks and admires her dedication to the work they do. In the episode where Marilyn Monroe dies, Don asks Peggy how she is doing and is surprised (if only for a quick side-glance of a moment) when Peggy responds, “It’s a good thing we didn’t go with Marilyn/Jackie ad. We would have had to pull everything indefinitely.” While others in the office mourn the loss of a role model, Peggy’s eyes are clearly focused on her career. She does not falter for a moment because she can’t afford it. Don gets that because he too knows that he can’t quit running. They share a common fear and subsequently, a common strength of self.
From the moment Don appears at Peggy’s bedside, the two have shared a level of intimacy that isn’t mirrored in any other professional relationship on the show. In fact, the only time we’ve seen Don be this honest with someone is in his relationship with Anna, and Don turns to Peggy when mourning that loss.  In “The Suitcase,” Peggy is the only one in the office brave enough to confront Don’s destructive path. She walks into his office and, with concern asks, “How long do you intend to go on like this?” Moments later she reassures him that he didn’t lose the only person who knew him. Don and Peggy have provided each other with gentle support in a violent world and that support will surely be needed again as the company hangs by a thread. And even as the future of the agency hands in the balance, Don and Peggy march on. While the other partners and employees of Sterling, Cooper, Draper, & Pryce cry into their highballs, Peggy and Don put their nose to the ground and keep fighting for accounts and taking risks.
As the show progresses, I expect to see more conflict between Don and Peggy’s friendship. Peggy has thus far tolerated Don’s destructive side out of admiration and loyalty. I am curious to see how the quickly changing world of the sixties will effect her perceptions of the friendship. I am also curious to see how Don’s engagement will affect the level of admiration that Peggy has previously given him. In “Tomorrowland,” Don proposes to his secretary and we have yet to see what that means for his developing character, but one thing is clear: neither Peggy nor Joan is the least bit pleased about the engagement. As the progressive movement of the sixties marches on, the unspoken gender issues in the office are coming full head. Don and Peggy share the same drive and are invested in the friendship, but they still stand on different levels of the patriarchal power structure. Can their friendship sustain the changing social climate? What will happen as Peggy continues to embrace the rebellion of the sixties youth movement? I am certain that whatever happens, Don and Peggy will continue to be deeply passionate characters whether they have each other’s support or not. I once wished for the destruction of Don Draper. Now, I only want him to be saved. I’m just not sure that it’s Peggy’s (or any other woman’s) responsibility to save him, and I’m not certain that Don isn’t just chasing another dream.
Katie Becker studied at Luther College where she earned a Bachelor’s degree in Communication Studies. She loves saying what’s on her mind and asking inappropriate questions. She recently found the time to start writing again. 

Quote of the Day: Tina Fey

Bossypants by Tina Fey
Bossypants is a good book. Parts of it are laugh-out-loud-in-public funny, and parts of it make me think Fey is an overprivileged asshat, but still a funny asshat. And, as my friend Abby recently said, “Parts of it just made me love Amy Poehler more.”
In the spirit of loving Amy Poehler, and Tina Fey, here is an excerpt.
Amy Poehler was new to SNL and we were all crowded into the seventeenth-floor writers’ room, waiting for the Wednesday read-through to start. There were always a lot of noisy “comedy bits” going on in that room. Amy was in the middle of some such nonsense with Seth Meyers across the table, and she did something vulgar as a joke. I can’t remember what it was exactly, except it was dirty and loud and “unladylike.”
Jimmy Fallon, who was arguably the star of the show at the time, turned to her and in a faux-squeamish voice said, “Stop that! It’s not cute! I don’t like it.”
Amy dropped what she was doing, went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him. “I don’t fucking care if you like it.” Jimmy was visibly startled. Amy went right back to enjoying her ridiculous bit. (I should make clear that Jimmy and Amy are very good friends and there was never any real beef between them. Insert penis joke here.)
With that exchange, a cosmic shift took place. Amy made it clear that she wasn’t there to be cute. She wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys’ scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not fucking care if you like it.
I was so happy. Weirdly, I remember thinking, “My friend is here! My friend is here!” Even though things had been going great for me at the show, with Amy there, I felt less alone.
I think of this whenever someone says to me, “Jerry Lewis says women aren’t funny, ” or “Christopher Hitchens says women aren’t funny,” or “Rick Fenderman says women aren’t funny…Do you have anything to say to that?”
Yes. We don’t fucking care if you like it.

Ripley’s Pick: Season One of Pulling


Pulling is a British comedy series written by Sharon Horgan (who co-stars) and Dennis Kelly. It aired on BBC3 for two seasons (of six episodes), starting in 2006, and an hour-long farewell special aired this May.

After breaking off her engagement, Donna (Horgan) moves in with two of her best friends, Louise (Rebekah Staton) and Karen (Tanya Franks). What follows is a hilarious, raunchy, irreverent take on life as a thirty-something woman.

Things I Love About Pulling

  1. Women behave badly, too. While something like 99% of television and movies allow men to behave badly and enjoy themselves, when women behave similarly they’re slut-shamed and made to feel guilty for thinking about anyone but everyone else. A woman has a one-night stand in most movies, and she’s punished with a pregnancy (and, yes, in comedies pregnancy typically is a punishment, meant to teach a woman she needs to change her selfish, uppity ways and start living for someone else). See Knocked Up, Juno, and just about every other American comedy.
  2. Successful dark comedy. While American dark comedy typically consists of some pretty awful misogyny, or at least humor at the expense of others, Pulling manages to be funny and edgy without displaying hatred for any group of marginalized people. Even a tirade against a man who gave a less-than-stellar performance in the bedroom has a tone of lightness and regard for the man, who looks adorably helpless standing by the kitchen table as Karen goes off. The viewer isn’t supposed to hate that man; the viewer feels sympathy for him.
  3. No interest in babies, marriage, children, or shopping. Donna decides she doesn’t want to marry Karl, despite caring for–even loving–him. Although Karen is a teacher, the one moment when she gets all sappy about children–with their tiny fingernails–being the future is played for laughs. And the only moment in the first season that approaches interest in clothes involves Karen verbally assaulting her dry cleaner for not being able to deliver same-day repair service for a torn dress, despite the fact that she had a completely bullshit suck-up conversation with him.
  4. The show is smarter than its characters. So many so-called smart shows have characters who are successful professionals–doctors, lawyers, businesspeople–and who do sophisticated things. Not this one. These women go to the pub–a lot. They have working-class jobs (waitress, teacher, personal assistant). They don’t feel guilty about being working-class women. They work. Lousy jobs. They lose lousy jobs. They don’t enjoy gallery openings.
  5. Despite the drinking, sleeping around, and general screwing up, the show still has a moral center. When the characters do something reprehensible, they know it. When Louise’s mother comes to visit, it’s clear that her behavior (which I won’t give away here) crosses a line that her daughter’s (and the roommates) don’t cross.

From a subjective viewpoint, these three women are my age and their lives are disasters. Their lives are, in fact, closer to most people I know than anything else represented in film and television. If I’m to believe media, the things I really concern myself with are marrying, having babies, buying a house, driving a newer car than I do, using the best hair/skin/cellulite-diminishing products, and obsessing over my investments. If I’m to believe my regular life, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.

Pulling is a show starring women, but it’s not all about female empowerment and becoming a better person and sisterhood and all that. I’m all for female empowerment, but sometimes I just want to laugh. Pulling delivers, and it’s a shame the show lasted only two seasons. Those two seasons are, however, available on Netflix. If you haven’t seen Pulling, I suggest you immediately add it to your queue.