Gender – Page 6 – Bitch Flicks

‘The Expendables 2’: Masculinity Porn

Still from The Expendables 2 [source]

“You want to man up? I’ll man you up.” – Sylvester Stallone in The Expendables 2

It’s a good thing The Expendables 2 was released after the Olympics ended, or a lot of innocent athletes might have tested positive for testosterone doping. Where 2010’s The Expendables set out to recreate the 1980’s tough-guy action genre with a straight face, its sequel is more willing to consciously dip into self-parody territory, finally giving audiences what they had wanted and expected out of the original: The Travelling Wilburys of action movie stars running through every available cliche from the genre with a wink and a smile. [The sequel currently rated 62% fresh at Rotten Tomatoes versus the original’s 41% rotten rating.]

The Expendables 2 strives to be the Most Macho Movie of all time. Every possible signifier of manliness is on display [spoilers ahead]: Skulls. Guns. Knives the size of small children. Nameless henchmen who explode into geysers of blood when killed. Hip flasks. Cigar chomping. Feats of brute strength. Explosions. Tanks. Brass knuckles. Gratuitous beret-wearing. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly theme. Chuck Norris himself reciting a Chuck Norris fact.

What appears on screen is not driven by story, logic, or reason, but by whatever is the most Righteously Dudely. This is the only reason I can account for Stallone’s character favoring a single-action revolver in firefights against scores of men with automatic weapons, or Jean-Claude Van Damme’s villain using a roundhouse kick to drive one of the aforementioned child-sized knives into the chest of a restrained man, or Terry Crews pausing to announce “we’ve got company” before diving to safety under a hail of bullets. Because it looks cool, because it looks manly, because it’s how it would have happened in a twelve-year-old boy’s imagination in 1985.

To my surprise, The Expendables 2 gets very little mileage out of promoting masculinity by contrasting it against femininity. The only significant female character, Nan Yu’s Maggie, is the Smurfette of the group. Stallone gets some macho points with his absurdly chauvinist reaction to being told to work with a woman (“I don’t have time to babysit,” yadda yadda), but Maggie shows him up by being smart and competent and tough and even proficient in torture. She’s one of the guys. She even hits on Stallone with an awkward forced pun. [Her advances are rejected, because of the old Spider-Man excuse of “people I love get killed”, not because Stallone is literally twice her age.]

Promotion poster for The Expendables 2 featuring Nan Yu

In contrast to Maggie, when the team comes across a village of only women (the men having been forced into plutonium-excavating by Van Damme), their attempts to defend themselves with firearms are so incompetent that they can’t hit any of Our Heroes even after they start deliberately walking into the line of fire. Women! Can’t force them into plutonium-excavating, can’t leave them behind to defend themselves either. Sheesh.

And that’s the only scene in the film with more than one woman in it. The Expendables 2 is actually a bizarrely sexless film, with no nudity, hardly any expression of the male gaze, and only the aforementioned fleeting hint at unconsummated romance. Perhaps the filmmakers were worried about girl cooties. Or perhaps women are just irrelevant to the type of masculinity relevant to the film: a pre-pubescent hero-worship of larger-than-life tough guys.

Side-stepping sexuality may have been a shrewd move on the part of the filmmakers, or we could have ended up with another Sucker Punch on our hands. The Expendables 2 is masculinity porn that audiences can walk away from without shame and without further thought. With its shear over-the-top silliness, it easy to dismiss the whole thing as harmless and apolitical.

But that doesn’t mean we should dismiss it as such. Why do unbridled displays of masculinity in an of themselves provide entertainment value (or at least, why are they expected to)? What would a throwback-y femininity extravaganza of a movie look like? Is it terrible that the idea of such a film sounds miserable to me, and I genuinely enjoyed my time watching The Expendables 2? How is the collective id of young boys from thirty years ago still such a powerful cultural force that it’s apparently imprinted on the mind of this grown-up feminist woman in the year 2012?

Why "It Was Just the Times" Doesn’t Cut It When Challenging Sexism in Older Films

Here’s something I have run up against repeatedly when challenging sexism in older films and media (for the sake of the argument I will just discuss sexism, but this applies to all shapes and sizes of bigotry):

“It was just the times…”

To be clear about this “the times” theory: in various old movies, blatant sexism percolate and penetrate. But, when these bigotries are pointed out by a riled-up feminist, many distance themselves from the debate entirely. They don’t argue that there isn’t sexism, but that it is irrelevant because the time period in which the film was produced was sexist and ergo all media resulting from it is exempt from criticism on the basis that it could only be un-sexist if it was “ahead of its time.” As in: it is unfair to call out bigotries in an “old” movie because those bigotries were so ingrained in the culture that no media could escape the influence.

Firstly, this presumes that sexism exists in the mythical “back then.” It suggests sexism was a problem in “the times” when women were expected to stay home, weren’t considered for the same jobs as men and/or couldn’t vote. Sexism existed when people still thought ridiculing people based on their gender was funny. Or it was when women weren’t paid fairly for their work. It existed before abortion was legal – when politicians still thought they had more of a say over what a woman did with her body than a woman did. Those nasty generalizations and gender-based misbehaviors belong to our grandparents or parents or older siblings: not us. But, if you noticed: Women still don’t get paid as much as men. Our right to bodily autonomy is regularly challenged by politicians who presume to know what’s best for a person’s uterus. People are still singled out and/or demeaned for their gender. This is a feminist blog, so I don’t feel the need to go into detail. But, here’s a list of sexisms that still flourish today: slut-shaming, fat-shaming, cat calls, assault, sexualization, objectification, old boys’ club disassociation (aka employment discrimination), lack of media representation, gendered interpretations, overall debasement, pink&blue aisles and more and more and more.

Sexism isn’t something that is over. And if we look at contemporary media, we see it there as well. Disney movies didn’t stop featuring childish and passive female characters after Roe v. Wade. Romantic comedies didn’t stop perpetuating the notion that women need to be saved from themselves by a man. Women haven’t stopped being portrayed as sexual conquests in action flicks.

Which ties me into the next point: old film isn’t irrelevant. Some fatalistic viewers may postulate that the media has already been created. Neither the movie nor the culture from which it was created from can be changed at this point, so criticizing sexism is futile.

But, we can’t appreciate contemporary media without understanding what built up to it. Also, viewers don’t stop watching old films after they’ve circulated a certain number of decades. Media lasts, and continues to be a part of the cultural conscience. In many ways, older films can be more relevant than newer ones.

Newer movies are timelier. They play a part in the 24-hour-cycle that automatically elevates import. But, that doesn’t mean they ultimately have more influence than older film, they just have more exposure. Stanley Kubrick’s presentation of women – especially in Clockwork Orange – might be worth noting a bit more than Michael Bay’s presentation – say in Transformers. Both exploit women, but Kubrick’s portrayal comes from a respected and canonized director. Michael Bay’s portrayal comes from a director whose notoriety comes from explosion size.

Another crucial point: critique is not necessarily antagonistic. If anything it’s an expanding of the existing material. Media – like other cultural artifacts – is relative to the culture observing it. Historical context should orient it, but it should not dictate our appreciation of it. And, challenging sexism within it does not devalue it. Instead it can actually make it more worthwhile to talk about. Instead of passively viewing film, we should be active in our consideration.

Calling out sexism gives us a fuller picture of our history. To better understand ourselves, our culture and the film; we need to analyze and point out the flaws. This is why I enjoy focusing on older films: the movies that have been with us a while, and have influenced contemporary directors. I think they are more pertinent the longer they last. Looking back will always give us a chance to reevaluate how culture in “the times” affects culture in these times.

—

Erin Fenner grew up in small-town Idaho where she took solace in cult cinema. Her burgeoning feminist ideals didn’t dampen her approach to viewing even the most obviously gender-norm-dependent films, but created another angle of intrigue. She went to the University of Idaho where she grabbed a Journalism degree. There she was a student blogger, radio show producer and self-described feminist activist. Now she lives in Portland, Oregon, and works remotely for the reproductive rights organization Trust Women where she writes about the state of pro-choice-politics for their blog. She also says she is a poet, but refuses to publish, perform or share lest someone offer “constructive” critiques.

Women in Science Fiction Week: Examining Stereotypes with Ursula K. Le Guin

Guest post written by Carissa Harwood.

In the past, the act of writing science fiction has been a traditionally male dominated genre. Women have sought to create their own meanings in the books they read that don’t often include their perspectives and experiences. In recent decades, though, women writers have searched for and taken control over a fiction category that seeks to shrink them, or exploit their gender for some statement, whether intentional or not, about the female body.

While times have certainly changed, and there are many fine science fiction writers, male and female, Ursula Le Guin stands out for me as a writer who has created new meanings for women in science fiction with seeming ease in her writing. She takes a simple concept — the ‘what if’ factor — and creates whole worlds that she populates as she gives us her answer. That’s the big golden key to science fiction writing — exploring the ‘what if’.

Here’s a ‘what if’ from her novel The Left Hand of Darkness — what if there was a planet where gender wasn’t so easily defined? What if there was a planet where men had the children, what would that be like? So often I’ve come across aspiring authors who request that I review their NEW FRESH EXCITING sci-fi novel, even though my blog explicitly states I no longer review new science fiction. And here’s the reason: the submissions (from male authors) I’ve read invariably read like this (I made this up as an example, this is not a direct quote from anywhere):

“Susie laughed manically as she switched Betty’s birth control pills with pez. ‘Now I can have Tommy all to myself’, she smirked.” There is a lot of smirking going on in these novels, and I hate the word smirk. It should be used sparingly. A smirk should be used to indicate a sarcastic smile, an I-know-something- you-don’t-know sing-song smile, and I’ve always associated the smirk with something teenagers like to do. And that is how many writers of science fiction write their female characters: smirking adolescents.

Science fiction is, or should be, a place to examine stereotypes and political and social conventions, not to reinforce them. Before Le Guin came along, we had authors like Piers Anthony (a notorious misogynist, although like most misogynists he denies that he is one) and Ray Bradbury. Now I wouldn’t go so far as to call Bradbury a misogynist — I admire Bradbury’s work, I really do, because many of his themes are universal. But he falls into the same trap that Stephen King does — very few of his main characters are female, and more often than not, men are the decision makers, and the ones that move the plot along. It’s interesting to note that many writers tend to write towards their own gender. In Bradbury’s fiction, like Anthony and King, the female characters often end up in supporting roles as wives, mothers, and crushes that turn into ‘marionettes’ or a controllable programmable robot that can be easily manipulated.

I read these books as a child and teenager, and I experienced a sense of dissatisfaction with the minor roles women were playing in this male literary playground. So I wondered what women writing science fiction would be like, and that’s where I found Ursula Le Guin, who didn’t merit her own displays in the library lobby like the other authors I’ve mentioned. At least, not when I was a kid.

Compare Bradbury’s marionettes and Anthony’s robot women to Le Guin’s character of Sita Dulip in Changing Planes. The main character is a woman who travels alone and fearlessly not only to other cities in the world, but other dimensions and other planets and cultures. She isn’t someone’s ‘female companion.’ She’s not defined by her marital status or her relationships or how many children she can or cannot produce. Not once does she ask anyone’s permission. Not once does she require a male guardian or escort. Not once does she require supervision. She just goes, because that’s what any thinking and curious person should be allowed to do without restriction—go forth and explore and learn and imagine. And she can do all this without one single mention of menstruation, (or mentioning having to pack tampons) or heartlessly abandoning her children in favor of a free life seeing what the universe has to offer. A woman can venture forth into the world (or worlds, in this case) without one single thought for her reproductive capabilities.

What’s so innovative about that? A woman traveling alone, doing what she wants? Because there’s no sense of fear, or intimidation or dependence on anyone else. Sita Dulip is truly a free individual. There’s no sense of loss, or not belonging anywhere. It’s simply a story of exploring and learning, without any literal or figurative baggage.

Let’s look at another comparison of science fiction as a way to explore deeply held social constructs by looking at John Scalzi’s brilliant take on The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, by Ursula Le Guin. He wrote about this as a lens through which to examine the Penn State scandal, and I had my students read this article when we discussed comparing literature to current events. The world she constructed in the novel goes like this: If you could have a happy wonderful, perfect life, but the price was that one child would have to live his or her life in misery, neglect and starvation for the rest of that child’s life—would you do it? Could you live your life knowing it took someone’s direct pain and misery? What happens to the people who stay? What happens to the people who walk away into an uncertain world?

It’s these kinds of questions that are explored through science fiction that really melt my butter. And I’m not saying–at all–that women can write science fiction better, I just want women to have an active voice, and active participation.

It’s the demand for participation in this world as something other than a reproductive vehicle that I wanted to find. Writing is a mental communication of ideas from the author’s brain to yours, a communication that, hopefully, journeys with you as you read along and create new possibilities and opportunities, challenging our perspectives and allowing us into the hearts and minds of the most diverse cast of characters you can imagine. All writing explores how we think, but fiction provides with a vehicle we can ride in. I just don’t think the vehicles should come in distinct shades of pink or blue with all their incumbent stereotypes. This can only happen if, and hopefully when, more women take up the pen to write their own stories, and seek to answer their own ‘what ifs’.

Carissa Harwood is an adjunct professor and writer of things rich and strange, from aliens to zombies, with some feminism, paranormal romance, and urban fantasy thrown into the mix. She holds a Masters of Fine Arts Degree in Playwrighting and blogs at 3500 Words per Pound.

Women in Science Fiction Week: ‘Avatar’

Guest post written by Elizabeth Tiller previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on February 26, 2010 and originally appeared on the Stilwell Film blog, cross-posted with permission.

Admittedly, Avatar isn’t my thing, I’m not big on James Cameron or any alien films (not only his), I’ve never been interested in Star Wars or Star Trek (though I have seen enough of both franchises to hold a conversation), so I wasn’t planning on watching Avatar at any point in my life. However, this afternoon, I changed my mind when a free screening became available to me. With my original plans canceled and a spare two and a half hours available, I tucked into James Cameron’s latest film.

Well, Avatar wasn’t what I thought it would be, but it wasn’t any better. I spent most of the first half of the movie developing alternate titles ending with “in space.” “Pocahontas in Space,” “Dances with Wolves in Space,” and “Titanic in Space” all sprang to mind. For the most part, it seems Cameron has taken plots from various other films, thrown them together, dyed it blue, and placed it on the fictitious planet, Pandora, to create a science-fiction retelling of the Pocahontas mythos.

[…]

As much as I would like to sit through a movie like this and enjoy it for what it is (ground-breaking sci-fi entertainment that will go down in history), I simply can’t. James Cameron’s attempt to create a more spiritual, natural, and peaceful society leaves me annoyed that once again this idea is filtered through a white, Western, male member of a patriarchal society. Some theorists will consider Cameron’s Alien trilogy feminist, because of Sigourney Weaver’s empowered Ripley (legend says it was written to be asexual–with casting deciding the character’s sex), but she still has to prove her femininity and womanliness by saving cats and small children. I fear that many feminists will laud Avatar as well–for creating a world where the people worship a female entity (“Eywa”), because the Clan leader’s female mate/wife is as powerful as him, and since the female lead is as empowered as Ripley. However, like Ripley, Neytiri too has her feminine trappings, as her power can be explained away through her heritage.

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Elizabeth Tiller is a PhD student researching femme fatales in European cinema. Last year, she founded Stilwell Film, a non-profit that provides free outdoor film screenings to southern Johnson County, Kansas during July. In her spare time, she plays rugby, frequents karaoke nights, and watches high quality films like The Blue Lagoon.

‘Beasts of the Southern Wild’: Gender, Race and a Powerful Female Protagonist in the Most Buzzed About Film

I have a confession to make. I’m a big softie when it comes to movies. I shed tears at the drop of a hat. But I usually don’t cry during a film trailer. But Beasts of the Southern Wild — both the trailer and the film itself — made me weep.

A strange, haunting, breathtaking dystopian fantasy — it contends with polar ice caps melting, prehistoric creatures, lands flooding, and the bonds of family. With its lush scenes, poignant and complex characters, and achingly beautiful music, it stirred emotions and memories long forgotten. It’s a triumph of the human spirit. And the best part? At the bittersweet film’s center is a little girl.

The film’s female protagonist is Hushpuppy, a 6-year-old African American girl who lives with her father on an island called the Bathtub. And she is a breath of fresh air. Played with depth, nuance and sensitivity, newcomer Quvenzhané Wallis — who’s already generating lots of Oscar buzz — dazzles on-screen. Her luminous personality captivating you at every moment. She’s been called “a miniature force of nature.” And I couldn’t think of a more perfect description. It’s hard to believe Wallis was only 5 years old when she filmed the movie.

Hushpuppy is a pint-sized powerhouse. An indomitable survivor. She’s brave, tough and strong-willed. There’s a fierce intensity, and an old wisdom behind her eyes. Honest, vulnerable and sweet – she is the film’s moral compass, its anchor.

Too often with films with daughters, they merely exist so we can see how the parents react to them. But here, we witness the story unfold from Hushpuppy’s perspective. Director and co-screenwriter Benh Zeitlin said he made a conscious decision to only yield information Hushpuppy has access to. We the audience see only what she sees. She narrates the film throughout so we always know her thoughts and feelings. But honestly, even if you erased all the narration, you would still know because of Wallis’ expressive face and body language. Through her narration, we peek a glimpse into her psyche. Hushpuppy utters poetic and sage musings:

“When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me flying around in invisible pieces… Everybody loses the thing that made them. The brave men stay and watch it happen. They don’t run.”

“I see that I am a little piece of a big, big universe, and that makes it right.”

Hushpuppy frequently lets out this little scream that reminds me of a warrior cry akin to Xena. It’s as if she’s declaring, “I’m here world. Deal with it.” She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. Yet there’s a buoyancy to her spirit. Putting animals up to her ear so she can “listen to their innermost desires,” savoring each bite of food she eats…these bring her joyous rapture. Hushpuppy is the film’s moral compass and anchor. We see the whole world through her eyes.

While at times it looks the same, the world in Beasts of the Southern Wild is not ours. The Bathtub was inspired by the real Louisiana island Isle de Jean Charles, which is frequently flooded and is “cut off from the levee system.” Beneath the surface of this strange fantasy, it feels like an allegory of Hurricane Katrina. Although director and screenwriter Zeitlin insists the film is not about Katrina. An apocalyptic fantasy grounded in realism, Zeitlin discussed the film’s message:

“It’s a folk tale about the emotional experience of what it’s like to have to survive the end of your world, and to lose the things that made you.”

Despite his protestations, the parallels between Beasts of the Southern Wild and Hurricane Katrina are uncanny. The film contends with how to survive losing your home amongst horrific destruction and how we shouldn’t turn our back on people. Again feeling like a parallel to the way the government turned its back on Katrina survivors, particularly the survivors of color. The film also contains a strong message of environmentalism. If we continue down the same path of environmental degradation, we may destroy the planet. The philosophy that we are all connected reverberates throughout the film. Especially when Hushpuppy says:

“The whole universe depends on everything fitting together just right. If one piece busts, even the smallest piece…the entire universe will get busted.”

Beasts of the Southern Wild features a disturbing yet loving relationship between Hushpuppy and her ailing father Wink (Dwight Henry), an alcoholic, who vacillates between joyful hope and pained anger. In the beginning, he’s cold and cruel, alcohol warping his lucidity and judgment. He knows he has to take care of her and teach her how to survive in the world. But he seems to resent it as he can barely take care of himself. We eventually see his benevolent streak as he looks for survivors. By the end of the film, I broke down in silent sobs as we witness the strength of their bond.

Too often in film and TV, black fathers are absent, either dead or incarcerated. So it was great that here was a black father. And Henry imbued depth, anger, pain and hope into his character. But why did he have to be so broken? Why can’t we see a positive representation of a black father?

Like many fantasies and fairy tales, we witness an absent mother. But Hushpuppy’s mother’s presence is very much alive. Hushpuppy carries around a sports jersey, a symbol of her mother. She has imaginary conversations with her mother. When she sees a blinking beacon off on the horizon, she believes it’s her mother beckoning her. We also see a maternal figure in Miss Bathsheeba (Gina Montana) who nurtures and cares for all the children of the Bathtub. As her world begins to crumble, Hushpuppy eventually goes in search of her mother. In her journey, Hushpuppy traverses the land with three young girls at her side.

The film boasts strong, resilient, outspoken women and girls. And the stereotypically feminine trait of caretaking is lauded and celebrated. Miss Bathsheeba tells the children that they’ve got to take care for those “littler and sweeter than them…that’s the most important lesson I can teach you.” Wink believes it’s his duty and responsibility to teach his daughter how to survive and take care of herself. Screenwriter Lucy Alibar said he ultimately teaches Hushpuppy:

“How to take care of people. How to take care of someone weaker than you. The strength of kindness. The strength of standing with some place, with your family.”

Sadly, through gendered language, the feminine is often denigrated and demeaned at worst and diminished at best.

Wink often says “man” to Hushpuppy, like “Hey, man.” When they arm wrestle he asks her, “Who’s the man?” To which she proudly replies, “I’m the man.” When Hushpuppy’s house is destroyed – yes, her and her father each have their own house with their own belongings – he draws a line separating Hushpuppy from his sphere, the masculine one. He tells her that no girly toys are allowed on his side, but that he can’t hit her on her own side, something in her favor (Um, what?? Yeah, I’m not cool with violence). Wink often tells Hushpuppy, “No crying,” not allowing her emotions that depict weakness in his eyes. Even when we’re introduced to Miss Bathsheeba (Gina Watson), she’s telling the children not to be “pussies,” something uttered by Hushpuppy herself later in the film.

Food plays an integral role in the film, as sustenance, as a part of culture and as celebration. You see Hushpuppy, her father and their community eating seafood. While it was difficult for me to watch as a vegan, the feminist in me was thrilled that we see a girl eat. In reality, women and girls obviously eat. Due to the media’s policing of female bodies, women and girls have an antagonistic relationship to food. We don’t typically see female characters eating on-screen.

We also see a subtle commentary on gender performance and gender norms. When the residents of the Bathtub are transported to the mainland by the government, Hushpuppy is forced to wear a frilly, girlie-girl dress and tame her wild hair. Stripped of her identity and forced into conformity, she looks miserable. She doesn’t want to be constrained in gender stereotypes. Unconsciously, she wants to perform gender on her terms, not society’s.

I often lament the lack of female-centric films, particularly with women and girls of color. When we do see women, they usually appear as sidekicks or love interests to men. But not here. A black girl is front and center. And even though the film focuses on Hushpuppy’s relationship with her father, her relationship with her mother is equally as important.

We often see boys and men in films that showcase a hero’s journey or transformation. But here – in this film showcasing a triumph of the spirit – we see a journey with a strong-willed, opinionated girl of color. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Mystical, ethereal, surreal, touching – Beasts of the Southern Wild is all of these and yet so much more. Even as you watch the film, you might not understand or fully comprehend the meaning of the unusual plot. But let its poetic beauty, emotions and raw honesty wash over you. Let it sink in. For it will be a long time before another film like it – or another female hero as complex as Hushpuppy – comes our way.

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

Mia Wasikowska and Glenn Close in ‘Albert Nobbs’

This review by Staff Writer Megan Kearns previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on February 2, 2012.

“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.

———-

Megan Kearns is a Bitch Flicks Staff Writer. She’s a feminist vegan blogger and freelance writer living in Boston. Megan blogs at The Opinioness of the World, a feminist vegan site she founded in 2010 which focuses on gender equality and living cruelty-free. She writes about gender and media as a Regular Blogger at Fem2pt0, a site uniting social issues with women’s voices. Her work has also appeared at Arts & Opinion, Feministing’s Community Blog, Italianieuropei, Open Letters Monthly, A Safe World for Women and Women and Hollywood. She earned her B.A. in Anthropology and Sociology from UMass Amherst and a Graduate Certificate in Women and Politics and Public Policy from UMass Boston. You can follow all of Megan’s opinionated musings on Twitter at @OpinionessWorld.

‘The Avengers,’ Strong Female Characters and Failing the Bechdel Test

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) in The Avengers

Cross-posted at Fem2pt0.

Smashing box office records, audiences have been swept up in The Avengers hullabaloo. Interesting and compelling, the epic superhero film based on the Marvel comics unites Black Widow, Captain America, Iron Man, Hawkeye, the Hulk and Thor “to form a team that must stop Thor’s brother Loki from enslaving the human race.” It was good. Really good. It contained complex characters and funny, clever dialogue. In a genre that exhibits strong female characters yet often objectifies women’s bodies or reduces them to ancillary love interests…how was The Avengers’ portrayal of women?

With Joss Whedon, a proud feminist and Equality Now supporter, at the helm directing and screenwriting, I eagerly hoped for a feminist film. I absolutely adore Firefly, only watched a handful of Buffy episodes (I know, I know…I need to watch more), and I couldn’t stand Dollhouse (don’t even get me started on the predication of rape, objectification and misogyny…but I digress). Forever inspired by his radical feminist mother and his love for X-Men character Kitty Pryde, Whedon shows an adept talent for creating and writing strong female characters.

The lone female Avenger is Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), a “highly trained spy,” assassin and martial arts master. Haunted by a dark past, she’s a fearless warrior possessing a razor sharp mind and an impressive knack for interrogation. In one of the best scenes, she goes head to head with the film’s villainous nemesis Loki (and Thor’s brother) in a labyrinthine mind game. While I’m not thrilled that Black Widow uses “feminine wiles” as a method of manipulation, her opponents anticipate vulnerability in her because of her gender. Natasha deftly uses and exploits their stereotypical gender biases to her advantage.

Black Widow could have easily become a one dimensional character. Yet she embodies strength and depth. She’s decisive and forever in control of her emotions. Although I don’t like the implication that being emotional equates weakness. She’s not technically a superhero (nor is her partner archer Hawkeye) as she doesn’t have special powers. Yet she arguably had the best fighting sequences with her nimble and dexterous prowess. There’s one where she’s tied to a chair and kicks ass…it’s seriously amazing! Johansson talked about how she would be delighted to do a Black Widow film in the realm and style of The Bourne Series. That sounds freaking awesome.

Black Widow / Natasha Romanoff

In most films and TV series, the media objectifies and commodifies women’s bodies for the male gaze, reducing a woman to her sexuality. While she dons tight costumes, that doesn’t happen here. She’s not merely a sex object. Black Widow is an integral part of the team. She’s the one who thinks they should all work together when petty arguments and inflated egos threaten to divide them. SPOILER!!! -> Natasha ultimately ends the climactic epic battle as she’s the only one who realizes they need to close the portal in order to halt the influx of the alien army. <- END SPOILER Black Widow plays with gender stereotypes but doesn’t wield her sexuality as a weapon. She uses her ridiculously impressive martial arts ass-kicking skills for that.

Aside from Black Widow, The Avengers film depicts S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders, my favorite actor on HIMYM) and two brief scenes with Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow). Maria is one of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson)’s Chief Lieutenants. She’s calm, collected and authoritative, even in dangerous situations. We see Maria run the deck of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. But she doesn’t approve of controlling people as we see when she criticizes Fury for manipulating The Avengers’ emotions to finagle a specific response. Pepper is the CEO of Stark Industries (Iron Man/Tony Stark’s company), as well as his girlfriend. She’s intelligent, precise, organized and charming.

When asked about Whedon’s strong female characters, Johansson called him “gender blind:”

“He wants his female characters to be dynamic and competitive and assured and confident. And it has nothing to do with anything but the fact that he just celebrates those kinds of strong female characters.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders)

AlterNet’s Julianne Escobedo Shepherd thinks The Avengers possesses a “stark feminist perspective” as it differs from so many other superhero films. Even in movies with multiple female characters like X-Men, the women often orbit the male characters. Not so in The Avengers. Escobedo Shepherd goes further asserting Johansson portrays Black Widow’s “talent for manipulation as a boon for the art of spying, rather than any kind of femme fatale cliché.”

Despite three strong female characters and Black Widow’s awesomeness, I didn’t find the movie overtly feminist. I can’t help but wonder if people are looking to find feminism where not a whole lot actually exists because of Whedon’s reputation. The Avengers contains some gender problems.

Loki hurls a misogynistic insult at Black Widow, calling her a “mewling quim.” Translation, a “whining cunt.” Lovely. He reduces her to her vagina. Now, not everyone’s going to get the inference right away. I know I didn’t. Although something about the condescending tone made me suspect a gendered insult. Whedon says he often “abuses” language, depicting different vernaculars, including Shakespearan dialogue, to reveal character traits. It’s interesting that instead of writing an overt insult, Whedon subversively portrayed Loki’s sexism.

Some people apparently accused Whedon of “not being macho enough” to direct the superhero bonanza. So let me get this straight. If a guy is a proud feminist and writes strong female characters, that makes him unmanly to direct an action movie? And what does that say about women…that female directors possess too much estrogen to direct? Ugh.

Many critics and bloggers have focused on the Hulk, thanks in large part to Mark Ruffalo’s fantastic talent and the hilarious snarky dialogue, thanks to Robert Downey Jr.’s quick wit as Iron Man. Interestingly, of the 6 Avengers, Black Widow gets the 3^rd most screen time. Yet she still remains the only female Avenger in the film. And that’s a problem.

(L-R): Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Captain America (Chirs Evans), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) – The Avengers…and Black Widow as the one female

In the comics, The Avengers had a rotating line-up of superheroes. Couldn’t the movie portray an additional female Avenger, like Wasp or Scarlet Witch or She-Hulk? Maybe they didn’t want two green Hulks. Fair enough. Although She-Hulk, a brilliant attorney, is pretty badass. Whedon even said that when they weren’t sure if they could accommodate Scarlett Johansson’s tight schedule, an early script contained the female superhero (and founding Avenger) Wasp. He “fell in love with the character.”

So here’s my question: why did they have to scrap the role of Wasp the minute they secured Johansson’s Black Widow? Why not have 2 female superheroes in one film?? Sadly, the movie suffers from the Smurfette Principle.

Coined by feminist writer Katha Pollitt in looking at children’s entertainment, the Smurfette Principle is when a male ensemble features one female character. Think the Smurfs (before the introduction of Sassy), the Muppets and Voltron (I’m clearly showing I’m a child of the 80s here). Pollitt asserts that the problem with this trope is that “boys define the group, its story and its code of values. Girls exist only in relation to boys.” As the articulate Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency points out, it transcends children’s entertainment as we see in films like Star Wars, Star Trek, Watchmen and even Inception as well as TV shows like early seasons of Big Bang Theoryand It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Films and TV relegate women to “sidekicks or sexy decorations.” Luckily, Black Widow suffers neither of these fates. She holds her own as a fierce and capable character, neither shoved aside nor reduced to a dude’s love interest. But it’s still problematic that Black Widow is the only female team member. The male Avengers contain multiple male personalities: a sarcastic genius playboy, a lonely selfless soldier, a skilled sniper, and a tortured brilliant scientist. But as far as women’s representation, there’s just one female Avenger. Granted, she’s a badass. But it would have been nice to see more diverse personalities…which might have been rectified with another female superhero.

(L-R): Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson)

But my biggest problem? No women talked to each other. At all. What the hell is up with that??

Like Film School Rejects’ Gwenn Reyes, I too found the glaring lack of women talking to each other to be The Avengers “greatest flaw.” Maria talks to the other Avengers. As Nick Fury’s right-hand person, it makes sense she would interact with the Avengers. Plus Maria and Natasha have probably crossed paths before since Black Widow already worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Couldn’t the two women have talked about the upcoming battle? Or strategized, commiserated…anything??

Just because the portrayals of the female characters were positive, doesn’t mean I think the movie smashed the Bechdel Test, a simple test that asks that two named female characters talk to each other about something other than men. With women comprising only 33% of speaking roles on-screen, The Avengers failing the Bechdel Test proves the cavernous gender gap in film and how far we still need to go.

Let me be clear. Most movies — superhero or otherwise — couldn’t care less about portraying complex, intelligent, strong, dimensional women or gender equitable roles. So The Avengersis a step in the right direction. But if you only depict your two female characters (no matter how empowered they are) talking to men, it subtly reinforces the notion that women’s lives revolve around men.

While it’s a really good action movie with strong female roles, I still expected more feminism from you, Joss Whedon.

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.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Amber‘s Picks:

How Twitter Reflects the Themes of Our Society from The Nerdy Feminist

The Future of Feminism series from Fourth Wave

Vogue Italia’s “Haute Mess”: Racist, Ignorant, or Brilliant? from Racialicious

Spotlight: Anna and Modern-Day Slavery from Her Film

Sympathy for the Devil: On HBO’s Game Change, and Hating Ladies for the Right Reasons from Tiger Beatdown

Capitol Control: The Irony of The Hunger Games Movie Mania from Bitch

Stephanie‘s Picks:

“BYT @ SXSW Movies: Wonder Women“ by Jeff Spross for Brightest Young Things

“Tavi Gevinson on Creativity, Taste, and the Word ‘Girly'” from Huffington Post

“Hungering for a Female Hero: Hunger Games May Break New Ground” by Tom Long for Detroit News

“The Bitch List: Does Your Screenplay Have What It Takes?”

by The Bitch Pack

“On Feminism: Romantic Femininity” by Hila Shachar for Le Projet D’amour

Megan‘s Picks:

It’s Women’s History Month! Celebrate by Seeing The Hunger Games and Vote with Your Dollars This Weekend via I Will Not Diet

Will the Box Office Change the Gender Balance in Film? via Feminema

Mad Men: Set Me Free – a musical mash-up with the series’ female characters via Pop Culture Pirate

Steel Magnolias Remake Cast Announced: Queen Latifah, Phylicia Rashad to Star via Clutch Magazine

The Feminist Harry Potter Tumblr You’ve Been Waiting For via Bust Magazine

Leave your links in the comments!

Oscar Best Picture Nominee: ‘Midnight in Paris’ and Its Woman Problem

Marion Cotillard and Owen Wilson in ‘Midnight in Paris’

I’ve never understood why people adore Woody Allen and lavish him with accolades. I’ve never liked his films. Nope, not even the adored Annie Hall, aside from the FABulous fashions donned by Diane Keaton. I know, I know…I’ve braced myself for the verbal lashings that will undoubtedly ensue. Besides his creepy penchant for dating and then marrying his daughter, I loathe the way Allen generally depicts women in his films. Yes, his movies make some interesting gender commentaries and contain phenomenal female actors (Diane Keaton, Meryl Streep, Patricia Clarkson, Penelope Cruz). But it irritates me that the myriad interesting and intelligent female characters in his movies seem to be punished for their strength or continually fall for the neurotic chump’s ~~charm~~ bullshit.

In Allen’s latest Oscar-nominated endeavor, Midnight in Paris, Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) is a successful Hollywood screenwriter struggling to write his first novel. He visits Paris with his constantly complaining fiancé Inez (Rachel McAdams), as he yearns to live amongst his literary idols in the Roaring Twenties. Gil discovers that at midnight, he is able to transport to 1920s Paris and hobnob with writers, musicians and painters. A love letter to Paris and artists, Midnight in Paris explores the dichotomy between illusions of nostalgia and pragmatically embracing the present.

Allen has a knack for evoking the visceral beauty of a city: NYC in Annie Hall and Manhattan, Barcelona in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Paris in Midnight in Paris. With lush cinematography, Allen capturesthe seductive allure and breathtaking romance of Paris. He also infuses the film with myriad authors and artists from the 1920s, a bibliophile’s dream. These delightful distractions almost made me forget (almost) that while an okay film, it’s certainly not a great one.

Now, I didn’t hate Midnight in Paris like my kick-ass colleague Stephanie. But I totally understand why she did because it royally pissed me off too. The portrayal of women in this film is fucking problematic.

Kathy Bates is fantastic as writer and art collector Gertrude Stein. Yet she’s highly underutilized, striving to make the most of her small role. Incredibly influential, we witness Stein’s Parisian salon which attracted talented writers, like Ernest Hemingway and Ezra Pound, whom she advised and mentored. After reviewing his manuscript, Gertrude bestows Gil with her wisdom: “We all fear death and question our place in the word. The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.” Aside from Gertrude, none of the female characters are either truly likeable, interesting or complex individuals.

Audacious Zelda Fitzgerald (Alison Pill, who tries her best to imbue her with charm), F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston)’s wife and a writer in her own right, diminishes her artistic talent by saying, “…and I realize I’ll never write a great lyric and my talent really lies in drinking.”

An “art groupie” muse, Adriana (Marion Cotillard) designs couture fashion and becomes the object of Gil’s affection, despite his fiancé. When Gertrude reads the first line of Gil’s book aloud, Adriana praises it saying she’s “hooked” and later calls his musings on the “City of Light” poetic. Enamored with her, they begin to spend their evenings talking and walking around Paris. Cotillard is a divine actor. But her character is beige and boring. Although I must admit I’m glad Adriana ultimately chooses her own path.

In addition to seeking Stein’s advice on his book, Gil turns to another woman, an art museum guide (Carla Bruni), for advice on being in love with two women at the same time. Oh, and he also flirts with 25-year-old Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) (cause you know, that’s what middle-aged dudes do) who sells old records from the Jazz Age and shares his love of Paris in the rain.

Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams in ‘Midnight in Paris’

But the worst female depiction – yeah, if you’ve seen the film, you know who I’m talking about – was Inez (Rachel McAdams). Inez complains about Paris’ charming bistros, getting wet in the rain, living outside the U.S. and Gil not purchasing $20,000 chairs. She undermines Gil’s talent in front of him to her friends saying, “He’s not sure he can write a novel.” Inez criticizes everything Gil says and does all while gushing over her crush, academic Paul (Michael Sheen), going so far as to shush Gil when he speaks in order to hear Paul’s pretentious diatribes. When Gil talks about Inez to others, he highlights her beauty (of course) and adds that she possesses a “sharp sense of humor.” Watching their relationship, it’s painfully obvious that there’s absolutely nothing keeping them together as the only thing they share is a mutual like of Indian food.

Now, I don’t automatically have a problem with a villainous or unlikeable female character, especially since there are so many female roles in the film. In fact, I often lament how unlike men, women are not allowed to play unlikeable or unsympathetic characters. But I have a huge problem with the “nag” role. The cliché of women as “nags” permeates pop culture.

I also have a huge problem that the seemingly sole reason Inez was made so horribly despicable was to “allow” Gil to cheat on his fiancé. The audience would sympathize with Gil for kissing another woman, buying her trinkets, baring his soul to her and planning to sleep with her even though he was engaged because his fiancé was such a shrew. Oh that’s right, I forgot! It’s okay to cheat on someone as long as they’re an asshole.

Allen told Rachel McAdams that she should play this role as she should “want to play some bitchy parts” as they’re more interesting. Maybe. But not this part. I didn’t find her character interesting at all. Yes, McAdams tries her best with the material she’s given. But the character is one-dimensional and annoying, lacking any depth or complexity.

Midnight in Paris, like pretty much all of Allen’s films, lacks diversity. They’re a sea of white with no people of color anywhere in sight. Oh I take that back. There’s a black woman in a car that Gil gets in on his “way” to the 1920s, one shot of Josephine Baker (Sonia Rolland) dancing that lasts all of 30 seconds and a few black people watching her dance.

Along with race, sexual identities are also omitted. The film contains three famous lesbians: Gertrude Stein, Stein’s life partner Alice B. Toklas (Thérèse Bourou-Rubinsztein) and writer Djuna Barnes (Emmanuelle Uzan). Of all three, Gil only alludes to Djuna’s sexuality when he says she led when they danced together. So lesbianism is almost completely erased, paving the way for good ole’ heteronormativity.

The only overt gender commentary occurs when Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll) says, “Pablo Picasso thinks women are only to sleep with or to paint,” but he believes “a woman is equal to a man in courage.” Which is interesting since Allen is a person who in his personal life doesn’t always believe equality in relationships is desirable: “Sometimes equality in a relationship is great, sometimes inequality makes it work.” (???) Yeah, this explains a lot. He also has a penchant for younger women, in his movies and in reality, because younger women are more innocent, “before they get spoiled by the world.” Gag.

This attitude that older women are less desirable as romantic partners seems to echo throughout the film, particularly in its ending. Don’t stay with the older (relatively speaking) jaded woman. Get with the young, innocent girl! While numerous women abound, everything in the film revolves around Gil, a stand-in for Woody Allen. Women are merely a buffet to be sampled – if one doesn’t work out, oh well, try another!

I’ll admit; the book lover in me was almost seduced. It felt like a light-hearted, whimsical, bibliophile remake of Purple Rose of Cairo. Instead of film characters leaping off-screen, novelists from the past reside in alongside the present. But there is no way in hell this should ever be nominated for a Best Picture or Director Oscar. It’s nothing more than an esthetically pleasing diversion.

I swear people nominated Midnight in Paris for so many awards because Hollywood is lazy. Rather than nominating ground-breaking, intelligent films like Pariah, The Whistleblower or Young Adult, this gets nominated because Allen is a famous, old, white male director. Good job, Hollywood. Way to keep perpetuating the dude machine.

The film suffers from a major woman problem. The women in the film are just as intelligent and talented as their male contemporaries. Gil turns to women for advice and guidance. Yet Allen reduces almost all of them to love interests and arm candy, nothing more than satellites to a dude.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Going Broke Chasing Boys: Why Disney Ditched Princesses and Spent $300 Million on ‘John Carter’

This is a guest post from Scott Mendelson. Originally published at Mendelson’s Memos.

If you’ve seen the trailer for the upcoming John Carter, you know that not only does it not look like it cost $300 million, but it so painfully feels like a Mad Libs male-driven fantasy blockbuster that it borders on parody. It’s no secret that Disney thinks it has a boy problem. One of the reasons it bought Marvel two years ago was to build up a slate of boy-friendly franchises. And the last two years have seen an almost embarrassing attempt to fashion boy-friendly franchises (Prince of Persia, Tron: Legacy, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, I Am Number Four, Fright Night, and Real Steel), only half of which were even as successful as their alleged flop The Princess and the Frog (which obviously grossed ‘just’ $267 million on a $105 million budget because it starred a character with a vagina). We can only ponder the reasons why Disney decided to outright state that they were never going to make another fairy-tale princess cartoon again, even after Tangled became their most successful non-Pixar toon since The Lion King, but I’m pretty sure Disney won’t be making such statements about boy-centric fantasy franchises anytime soon.

Now we have John Carter, which allegedly cost $300 million (if not more). It’s being released in March, where only one film (to be fair, Disney’s Alice In Wonderland) has ever even grossed $300 million. Hell, in all of January-through April, there have been just five $200 million grossers (The Passion of the Christ, Alice In Wonderland, How to Train Your Dragon, 300, and Fast Five). So you have yet another film that basically has to shatter all records regarding its release date in order to merely break even. But that’s okay, thinks Disney, because John Carter is a manly science fiction spectacle so it is surely worth risking the bank. Disney is so desperate to not only chase the young male demos that is willing to risk alienating the young female demos that has netted it billions of dollars over the many decades. What they fail to realize is that the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise (especially the first three films) was rooted in telling a story that crossed gender lines. All-told, the original trilogy actually revolved around Keira Knightley’s character, and her journey from daughter of privilege to outlaw pirate. I Am Number Four is a perfect example of this clear misunderstanding. Disney and Dreamworks decided to cash in on Twilight by making a variation told from the point of view of the super-powered teen boy, a story which turned the ‘Bella’ character into just another stock love interest to be sidelined for the third act.

If you look at Disney’s future slate, with the arguable exception of Pixar’s Brave (the first Pixar film to feature a girl, a warrior princess no less), they have almost no female-driven movies between now and 2014. Oh wait, I’m sorry…they ARE releasing Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid in 3D over the next two years. My mistake. I may complain about the frenzy of upcoming live-action fairy tale adaptations, but at least those are big-budget movies centering around a female protagonist. It would seem that Disney, as a corporation, genuinely places less value on the female audience than the male audience. Money is money, and sweaty bills from girls should be just as green as bills from boys. Yet Disney apparently so disdains its core audience (young girls) that it not only has stopped chasing them (in the knowledge that they will buy princess merchandise anyway) but has risked untold millions on the most generic possible new franchise, with no star power and little to distinguish itself from a hundred other such films, purely because ‘it’s a boy movie’. In a way, Disney has become just like the Democratic Party, risking alienation of their base because they know that the young girls (and their parents) won’t really ever jump ship.

Scott Mendelson is, by hobby, a freelance film critic/pundit who specializes in box office analysis. He blogs primarily at Mendelson’s Memos while syndicating at The Huffington Post and Valley Scene Magazine. He lives in Woodland Hills, CA with his wife and two young kids where he works in a field totally unrelated to his BA in Film Theory/Criticism from Wright State University.

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

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

When I wrote about HBO’s Game of Thrones last year, I had no idea that my critique would ignite such a fire storm.

In the 2 years I’ve been blogging, my post “Here There Be Sexism? Game of Thrones and Gender” holds the rank as my blog’s second most commented post. Readers commenting had visceral reactions to my criticizing the TV show, based on the beloved series by George R. R. Martin, and its depiction of gender and its treatment of women.

Now, while I know the TV series is pretty faithful to its source material, I haven’t read the books yet. So I can’t speak to how the books depict the female characters, only the TV show. But should I have to read the books in order to enjoy the show? Nope, I don’t think so. A TV series or film should be able to stand on its own accord. But people keep telling me to wait until season 2 as the books get even better regarding the gender roles.

Last week, HBO aired its trailer for the much-anticipated Season 2. The trailer is narrated by Varys (Conleth Hill):

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

Ugh. A dude…talking about more dudes. Yet another dude-fest.

In the very 1st teaser trailer that premiered in December, narrated by Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane), Robert Baratheon’s brother who’s gunning for the Iron Throne, again it’s the voice of a dude we hear.

But Game of Thrones boasts a lot of strong, intelligent, powerful women. Luckily in the trailer, we see and hear my two favorite badass female characters. Caring yet steely Dragon Queen Daenerys Stormborn (Emilia Clarke), whose transformation in Season 1 truly was the best part of the show for me, assertively proclaims:

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

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

“Anyone can be killed.”

Daenerys and Arya stand out as my fave characters period, regardless of gender.

Aside from them, no other women speak. Although to be fair the only other man who speaks is Golden Globe winner Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister (he’s seriously amazeballs). We see assertive matriarchs Lady Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley) and Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey). But of course there’s a bit of misogyny in the trailer with King Douchbag (er, Joffrey) pointing a crossbow at Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), threatening her life.

Misogyny and sexism tainted Season 1 of Game of Thrones with rape, abuse and objectification. While it pissed some people off, nudity on a show doesn’t really bother me. What did irk me was all the brothel scenes that focused on the male gaze and male pleasure. Aside from Daenerys and Arya, even the strong and powerful female characters are ultimately deferential to the men around them. It implies women’s lives revolve around men. So many films and TV series focus on men and their perspectives with women as secondary characters rarely talking to other women.

But with so many new women, why did I only see 1 new female face in the 2nd trailer? Why do the trailers revolve around the men??

Now, I love Game of Thrones. Really, I do. It contains complex characters, compelling plots and political intrigue. But as stellar as the show is (and it truly is), doesn’t mean it’s inoculated from sexism. In fact, my expectations are higher because it’s so good. As I previously wrote:

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

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

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

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

I might not be so hard on Game of Thrones if misogyny didn’t surface in almost every movie and TV show. In most films and shows, women’s lives revolve around men. Women talk to men and if they happen to talk to another woman, it’s about men. Too many films and shows sexualize women and show women subjugated by men via violence. Even when strong, intelligent, capable women exist (as in Game of Thrones), they are continually depicted as not possessing dominion over their bodies, families and lives.

If writers and directors utilize sexism to provide social commentary, that’s one thing. And not every movie or TV show must convey a profound message. But the media continually relies on and perpetuates sexism. While a fantastic series, Game of Thrones suffers from sexist tropes and would be even stronger without them.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope Season 2 is more of a lady-fest. And it sounds like it might be with the progression of Daenerys’ reign and the addition of so many new female characters. But with rampant sexism inherent in media, including in the 1st season, I’m not going to hold my breath.

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