Guardians of the Galaxy

Show Me a (Woman) Villain

Women are generally presented as easily manipulated and too emotional to be true villains. It is yet another characterization of the “soft” woman, dictated by her emotions, propelled by a propensity to nurture rather than destroy. But we need stories of women who hunger for power, who are willingly selfish, and who stick to their principles, no matter the cost. … No more scenes of men talking women into saving the world. Let them try their best to destroy it.

This guest post written by Mary Iannone appears as part of our theme week on Superheroines.

“The Marvel Cinematic Universe is kind of a sausage fest,” Stephen Colbert said last week. This was in response to the admission by director Shane Black that Iron Man 3’s villain was originally written as a woman, a choice that was definitively blocked by the studio. If this refusal wasn’t foolish enough to begin with, the reasoning behind it gets even more bizarre – they were afraid the toy version of a woman villain would not sell. “It makes sense,” Colbert sneered. “Girls don’t play with dolls.”

We all recognize the gross disparity of women superheroes, in the Marvel canon and beyond. But I would argue that the cinematic landscape is even less primed to allow women supervillains. After all, if some of us can barely accept the thought of a woman running our country, how can we tolerate even a representation of a woman hungry for world domination?

Villains like Loki, Ultron, Red Skull, and Killian are power-driven, tyrannical, reckless, murderous, and mostly devoid of sentiment. And it’s that last characteristic that seems to be so hard to reconcile with women characters. Time and time again, we see women introduced as villains only to be recruited to the side of the heroes. This usually comes after an “aha” moment when she realizes she is “in too deep.”

Take Scarlet Witch in Avengers: Age of Ultron. She has, as I argued in my last article, quite possibly the most powerful out of any character in the film. But suddenly, after witnessing Ultron’s full plan, her desire for revenge is neutralized. She is horrified by Ultron’s monstrousness: “You said we were going to destroy the Avengers – make a better world!” Just like that, Scarlet Witch becomes an Avenger. She only wanted to destroy a couple of people, not the world.

In Captain America: Civil War, Black Widow starts off on the side of Tony Stark (which is somewhat presented as the villainous side), but swaps midway to assist Steve Rogers. Lest we forget, this isn’t the first time Natasha has swapped sides – off-screen, she started off as a KGB officer who was turned into a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. This pattern can also be seen with Elektra in Daredevil, Mystique in X-Men, Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy, and even another character in Iron Man 3, Maya. Go outside of the Marvel Universe, and you will see Catwoman following the same pattern in The Dark Knight Rises; she even ends up in idyllic Paris, having gotten the guy.

Of course, we must note that backlash over woman villains is not confined to the comic book world. Consider the frenzy when Star Wars: The Force Awakens cast Gwendoline Christie as Captain Phasma, commander of the stormtroopers (whose toy is currently out of stock at Toys R’ Us, by the way). The film industry too often listens to the loud corner of the internet that refuses to believe that a woman could be bad (though that same corner doesn’t seem too fond of women as heroes, either).

Women are generally presented as easily manipulated and too emotional to be true villains. It is yet another characterization of the “soft” woman, dictated by her emotions, propelled by a propensity to nurture rather than destroy. But we need stories of women who hunger for power, who are willingly selfish, and who stick to their principles, no matter the cost. People need to know that sometimes, women are just that (minus the desire to destroy the world — most of the time, at least). If audiences can be charmed by Loki, why can’t we react the same way to a woman villain? Why can’t they be just as nuanced?

The stereotype is, again, that women are ruled by their emotions. But why do those emotions have to be good? We’ve called for women superheroes who are not ruled by their ties to men. The same goes for our women villains. No more characters who are only motivated by personal revenge. No more balking when it “gets out of hand.” No more scenes of men talking women into saving the world. Let them try their best to destroy it.

Let’s imagine, for a minute, that the Aldrich Killian character in Iron Man 3 had in fact been a woman. In the finished film, Killian is left on a rooftop on New Year’s Eve, rejected and forgotten by Tony Stark. He then spends over a decade crafting a revenge plan that ends with him attacking the President of the United States (and Tony and Pepper along the way). Had Killian been a woman, this would have been yet another story about a woman scorned and driven mad by rejection. Killian, in his reappearance years after New Year’s Eve, has even gotten a makeover. The characterization is already flawed; crafted into a woman, this would have been a hackneyed, sexist plot that would have done nothing to support the need for deeper women in the comic book universe.

It is ironic, then, that one of the worst-reviewed superhero films of the 21^st century actually contains the best depiction of a woman supervillain. X-Men: The Last Stand is, of course, a dreadful conclusion to the series’ original trilogy. But surprisingly, it serves well its most powerful villain, Phoenix.

Jean Grey dies at the end of X2 (aka X-Men 2), only to be saved by her alter ego, Phoenix, whose powers explode outward with lethal force. When Professor Xavier reveals he had been mind-controlling Jean for years to keep Phoenix at bay, Phoenix kills him. “I don’t want to fix it!” she snarls at Logan. While Jean Grey begs to be killed, Phoenix is unrepentant; enraged at those who tamed her for so long, she is determined to destroy those who mean to destroy mutants. In the end, the only way to stop her is by killing her. There is no way to appeal to her emotions; she cannot be coerced into being a hero.

So what’s next? It’s been 10 years since Phoenix – the latest X-Men series has thus far allowed Mystique to only toy with villainy. Cate Blanchett has been cast as Hela in Thor: Ragnarok. Karen Gillan will return as Nebula in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (and director James Gunn alluded to an expanded role). But given the positioning of these films in Marvel’s vast Cinematic Universe (MCU), it is likely these women will not factor into the ultimate climax, Infinity War. The presence of Thanos has loomed large in the MCU for years, and he is widely considered to be the mega-villain at the end of Marvel’s Phase Three. Is there anyone who can compete? When will we see her on screen?

Mary Iannone holds a Master’s Degree in Media, Culture, and Communication from NYU, where she studied genre film, Hollywood archetypes, and pop culture’s representations of mental illness. Follow her on Twitter at @mianno.

Top 10 Superheroes Who Are Better As Superheroines

There are soooo many superheroes out there. These gents get top billing in comics, movies, and TV shows while their superheroine counterparts tend to get the shaft, existing in unwarranted obscurity or playing second fiddle to a male lead. Do these super-dudes deserve all this limelight? Is there something inherently male about them that makes them special, or would some of these superheroes be just as good, if not better off, as women?

Women versions of Avengers superheroes and villains — What if women had starred in *The Avengers*?

Written by Amanda Rodriguez.

There are soooo many superheroes out there. These gents get top billing in comics, movies, and TV shows while their superheroine counterparts tend to get the shaft, existing in unwarranted obscurity or playing second fiddle to a male lead. Do these super-dudes deserve all this limelight? Is there something inherently male about them that makes them special, or would some of these superheroes be just as good, if not better off, as women? Many superheroes have been re-imagined as superheroines (Batwoman, Supergirl, Spidergirl, etc.), and some of them should be re-cast as superheroines. Here’s my Top 10 list of super-dudes who are or should be super-ladies.

1. Thor from The Avengers

Re-casting Thor as a woman is a done deal. Marvel has taken one of its oldest and most popular heroes who’s appeared in a slew of films and announced that henceforth Thor will be a female god. She won’t exist alongside the original Thor, as so many female re-imaginings of superheroes do (even some on this list), but, instead she will supplant her unworthy predecessor, taking his place as God of Thunder in Asgard, wielding his magic hammer and his titan strength.

Thor comic panel — Thor as a woman in comic form

Despite my love of the Norse mythology from which the comic hero is derived, I’ve never much cared for Thor. He often struck me as a dumb, self-important brute of a man. Now, though, I’m curious to see how Marvel handles the transition (though I’d love if Thor was trans*, pun not intended), and I’m excited to see how a female all-powerful god handles herself.

2. Venus from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Venus: the "aquamarine" turtle — Venus: the “aquamarine” turtle

Venus de Milo is a somewhat obscure addition to the TMNT canon of humanoid, intelligent mutated turtles. Unlike the male turtles, she’s named after a work of art rather than an artist, and I’m definitely reading some lack of female subjectivity into that choice. In the short-lived live action series Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation, Venus reunites with her brothers, and while she doesn’t know martial arts like her brothers, she uses magic instead.

While it’s pretty cool that this brief and obscure series added a female turtle, it begs the question, “Why wasn’t one of the four original turtles a girl?” While apparently comic writers were mandated to not include a female turtle, for this reviewer who was once so into the Turtles that she drew their portraits and hung them over her bed, there’s really no satisfying answer. Now that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have made another comeback and are back on the big screen, it’s time to bring back Venus…only please make sure she can kick some ass with a weapon, too, and not just float around some weird balls David-Bowie Labyrinth-style.

3. Spawn

Um...yes to a badass Lady Spawn — Um…yes to a badass Lady Spawn

Todd McFarlane’s popular comic Spawn features Al Simmons, a military man of questionable morals, who dies and is brought back as a supremely powerful demonic figure to collect souls for hell. Like all good anti-heroes, Spawn refuses to play nice for heaven or hell. The comic is lush, dark, and gritty, featuring a Black hero. Spawn was turned into a moderately successful cartoon series and a craptastic film series.

Though the comics have briefly featured women having or taking over Spawn’s powers and the dreaded angel Angela has had her own miniseries, a female Spawn has never been given a real chance as a lead. We also need more superheroines of color, and since the original Spawn is a Black man, there’s no reason why a female version couldn’t also be Black. Frankly, I’d love to see a strong, dark, morally complex woman deal with being a putrefying corpse reanimated to perform an eternal mission in which she doesn’t believe. Now that’s a rich role that a woman could really dig into.

4. The Question from 52

The original DC comic book version of The Question is the male Vic Sage. Though The Question doesn’t have any super powers to speak of, he wears a faceless mask that obscures his features. In the series 52, a terminally ill Vic trains Renee Montoya, a lesbian ex-Gotham City cop and on-and-off love interest of Batwoman, to be his replacement. Thus, The Question was born anew.

The Question sometimes fights alongside her ex-lover Batwoman — The Question fights alongside her ex-lover Batwoman

I love Renee Montoya because she’s an exceedingly rare Latina superheroine, she’s also an exceedingly rare lesbian superheroine, she doesn’t have any superpowers or a trust fund but still manages to fight the good fight, and she questions everything. She’s an interesting, emotionally messed up character who figures out answers for herself, lives by her own moral compass, and every once in a while, gets to save the girl (even if that girl is a totally hardcore Batwoman). Dear Montoya, you are so much win.

5. She-Hulk

Jennifer Walters is the cousin of rogue scientist Bruce Banner a.k.a the Hulk. After a blood transfusion from him, She-Hulk is born. A star lawyer who defends the rights of the disenfranchised and an Avenger, She-Hulk also maintains much of her personality when she transforms into her green-skinned form. Often considered the strongest woman in the Marvel universe, She-Hulk is incredibly intelligent and skilled at combat. Despite (or perhaps because of) her extremely tall, muscled, green body, She-Hulk is a huge sex symbol in the comics industry.

Like her male counterpart the Hulk, She-Hulk also contends with an antihero version of her powers in the form of Red She-Hulk (Banner love interest Betty Ross who’s had a couple of cameos over the years). Both of these women are differing, but intriguing representations and applications of female power and psychology, often becoming more confident and/or aggressive in their Hulk-ified bodies, choosing when to transform, and internalizing positive or negative feelings of self-worth based on their bodies. Now if we can just get one or both of these badass babes a movie…

6. Captain Marvel

Though Carol Danvers has been known by many different names over her 46 years in comics (Ms. Marvel, Binary, and Warbird), I like her best as Captain Marvel. Though Danvers derives her latest title directly from the male Captain Marvel, the name itself has a long history with both men and women indiscriminately donning it over time. I also prefer the current Captain Marvel because she’s now penned by female comic writer Kelly Sue DeConnick, and her costume has been altered to be far less revealing and far more practical than Danvers ever enjoyed before.

Danvers has the powers of the Captain Marvel hero (and, at times, antihero) line with superhuman strength, endurance, speed, and flight. Over the years, she’s also developed abilities of her own, including light speed travel, shooting energy beams from her hands, and absorption of energy to boost her own powers. Along with that, she also has combat, flight, as well as tactical and strategic skills from her air force days. As an Avenger and a member of Guardians of the Galaxy, it’s a possibility that she’ll appear in one or both of those franchises. Lately, rumors also speculate that Katee Sackhoff will aptly play the title role in a Captain Marvel an upcoming film. Considering studios’ extreme and groundless resistance to making a woman-fronted superhero flick, it’s doubtful, but a girl can dream.

7. Darth Talon

Darth Talon: so...much...badassery — Darth Talon: so…much…badassery

My first encounter with Darth Talon of the Star Wars universe was at Dragon-con in Atlanta (yes, I’m that nerdy) where a very dedicated woman cosplayed the hell out of that dark side Twi’lek, and I lost my shit at Talon’s sheer awesomeness. With her red skin, Sith tattoos, yellow eyes, and dedication to the dark side, Darth Talon is basically a female version of Darth Maul, the primary antagonist in Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace.

Though Darth Talon is the villainess female equivalent of a villain (and not a superheroine at all really), she deserves a spot on this list because she has the potential to be an iconic female version of a male figure. With her strength, cunning, and loyalty to the dark side, I’ve got my fingers crossed that she’s one of the characters we’ll be seeing in the upcoming Star Wars: Episode VII.

8. Black Panther

The male Black Panther (T’Challa) was the first ever Black superhero to hit mainstream comics. The lover and sometime husband of X-Men‘s Storm, Black Panther is the chief of a powerful nation in Africa known as Wakanda. To protect his people and lands from inevitable exploitation for their valuable natural resources, Black Panther hides his country from the outside world. He is a much needed Black African hero who, in a sense, rewrites the colonial history of the African continent by guarding his country from very real greed and imperialistic forces. When T’Challa nearly dies and loses his powers, his sister Shuri takes on the Black Panther mantle.

Like her brother, Shuri leads her country and possesses superhuman strength and agility along with a protective suit constructed from Wakanda’s precious, coveted mineral vibranium. Being the Black Panter, imbued with such great power and responsibility, changes Shuri. She learns the value of humility and self-sacrifice while becoming a respected diplomat and a fierce leader who makes it abundantly clear that her country is not to be fucked with. We need more representation for badass Black superheroines like Black Panther who can help us re-imagine and therefore empower a continent that has been brutally and tirelessly exploited for hundreds of years.

9. Hellgirl

A fan rendering of a Hellgirl action figure

There is no Hellgirl female version of Hellboy, the crusty but loveable demon beautifully rendered by creator Mike Mignola. There’s nothing inherently gendered about Hellboy’s red tail, sawed off horns, giant stone fist, and propensity for cigars. There’s nothing inherently male about his dark origins and his desire to overcome them to do good in the world.

In fact, I’d argue that a physically and emotionally rough-around-the-edges superheroine is just what we need. Enough of these drawings of women with stereotypically unrealistic bodies and their giant, barely covered breasts. Give us a superheroine who has to shave her horns instead of her legs, a woman who, like Hellboy, hides a gentle heart behind a jagged exterior, who struggles with depression and low self-worth but still manages to save the world.

10. Link from The Legend of Zelda

Zelda as Sheik Photo Realistic — Princess Zelda disguised as Sheik

Lastly and dearest to my heart, we’ve got the hero of Hyrule, Link, who is already pretty androgynous with his gender neutral name, dress-like tunic, long blonde hair, lithe build, and elven ears. He could easily be re-cast as a female character, if not removed completely, giving Zelda the agency to save Hyrule. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Link, but is there a reason Zelda even needs him to save the day in a video game that’s named after her?

Zelda, her alter ego Sheik, and her hero Link

Zelda, herself, is wise, magical, and skilled in combat. She even cross-dresses as Sheik, a figure who guides Link to important knowledge he needs to complete his quest. Why can’t Zelda be the Heroine of Time, supplanting Link as her savior? And while we’re at it, why the hell haven’t we had a movie version of The Legend of Zelda yet? Other than that they’d probably butcher it, I can’t think of a single good reason.

Men dressed up as female superheroes in Big Bang Theory — Men dressed up as female superheroes in *Big Bang Theory*

Though some argue the valid perspective that turning existing male superheroes into superheroines is lazy or doesn’t give female heroes their own identities, I mostly think that turning popular iconic male figures into women shows that gender isn’t that important when it comes to being powerful, capable, and a force for good in the world. In a time when female representation is often limited to sexual objectification, re-presenting male heroes as heroines in particular shows young girls that gender roles are arbitrary and that women can accomplish the same goals and be just as amazing as men. We need that right now.

Bitch Flicks writer and editor Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. Her short story “The Woman Who Fell in Love with a Mermaid” was published in Germ Magazine. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

‘Guardians of the Galaxy’: Almost as Weird as a Movie About Women

‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ is flat-out aggressively weird (up to and including its gigantic EFF YOU of a post-credits scene reminding us of the grand history of weird comic book adaptations). It has capitalized perfectly on this moment of comic book blockbusters and consumers’ particular faith in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As a super-dork who loves her some space cowboys and space cowgirls and space nonbinary cow-wranglers, I just want to issue my most sincere and grateful slow clap. Way to take your moment, movie.

The cast of 'Guardians of the Galaxy' — The cast of *Guardians of the Galaxy*

Marvel Studios made another gigantic pile of money last weekend with Guardians of the Galaxy. Even though it is based on a property that could kindly be referred to as “obscure,” the Marvel name plus a great trailer plus a genius week-after-ComicCon release = big opening weekend. Even for a movie about Andy Dwyer, a green badass chick, a beefy guy painted like a brocade tablecloth, a cyborg raccoon, and a sentient tree creature all getting their space opera on over a purple ringpop of a MacGuffin.

Guardians of the Galaxy is flat out aggressively weird (up to and including its gigantic EFF YOU of a post-credits scene reminding us of the grand history of weird comic book adaptations). It has capitalized perfectly on this moment of comic book blockbusters and consumers’ particular faith in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As a super-dork who loves her some space cowboys and space cowgirls and space nonbinary cow-wranglers, I just want to issue my most sincere and grateful slow clap. Way to take your moment, movie.

Guardians of the Galaxy is so weird there are two chick on screen at one time! — *Guardians of the Galaxy* is so weird there are two chick on screen at one time!

And while Guardians of the Galaxy doesn’t make straight A’s on the feminist scorecard, as expertly detailed by my Bitch Flicks colleague Andé Morgan, it still represents an important moment for feminist fans of genre flicks. First, this is the first Marvel movie with a credited woman writer, Nicole Perlman. Male-dominated movie studios seem to be just now wrapping their heads around the idea that women actually pay to see movies, and that’s not necessarily moving them to cater to what the female audience wants. Getting more women on the creative end is vital, particularly women like Perlman who can make bizarre material palatable to mainstream audiences, because comic books sources are never short on w’s, t’s, or f’s.

"I'm a blue guy with a shiny mohawk and I still think that might be too weird." — “I’m a blue guy with a shiny mohawk and I still think that might be too weird.”

Guardians of the Galaxy must bear inevitable comparisons to Star Wars. Sidestepping their actual relative merits, these films collectively prove that the moviegoing public are, at large, huge dorks. If you have compelling characters and a decent level of whiz bang in your FX, we’ll happily embrace whatever nonhumanoid creatures and nonsensical mythos you hurl at us.

And with no disrespect meant toward the legions of FX engineers anonymously creating cinematic wonder for our consumption, it seems that the compelling characters are the tricky part; without those you’ve got a Transformers on your hands, or the film nodded toward in GotG’s post-credits sequence.

Too often, studios conflate “compelling character” with “white dude.” And yep, there’s a bright shiny White Dude at the center of Guardians of the Galaxy, acting as the sole representative of Earth to boot. But in case you haven’t caught my “wait, seriously?” drift yet, everyone else in the movie is some variety of alien including the dynamic duo of a CYBORG RACCOON and SENTIENT TREE.

Djimon Hounsou shows up on the big screen as Korath before we get T'Challa? — Djimon Hounsou can play this alien dude but there’s still no T’Challa? Seriously?

All of which means that there’s no excuse left in the world to only make movies about the white dudes in comics. Don’t even begin to pretend with your “too unknown.” Please stop with your “not accessible to mainstream audiences.” And don’t think you’re going to get much further with Marvel Studio’s president Kevin Feige’s usual line about “timing” and “telling the right story,” because the time is obviously NOW to throw any and all Marvel pasta at the movie screen, and the “right story” is clearly irrelevant (I don’t think Guardians of the Galaxy got made because the studio just couldn’t sit on this brilliant yarn about a face-melting space ruby).

Unfortunately Feige is craftily spinning Marvel’s boon time as somehow making it even more difficult for them to release new properties:

I hope we [release a female-led film] sooner rather than later. But we find ourselves in the very strange position of managing more franchises than most people have — which is a very, very good thing and we don’t take for granted, but is a challenging thing. You may notice from those release dates, we have three for 2017. And that’s because just the timing worked on what was sort of gearing up. But it does mean you have to put one franchise on hold for three or four years in order to introduce a new one? I don’t know. Those are the kinds of chess matches we’re playing right now.

Well who would want to play a chess match with only white pieces and no queens? You need to shake up your board, Marvel. No more excuses.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who complains about this stuff a lot.

Three Reasons Why ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ is Not a Feminist Film

I dreaded seeing this trite sexism applied to Saldana’s character, Gamora. To be fair, while she does require saving by male characters on multiple occasions, Gamora has moderately strong agency throughout, and her character is a load-bearing beam rather than a Trinity-esque distraction. If only her last lines could’ve been less deferential.

Written by Andé Morgan.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), one of the summer’s most anticipated blockbusters, was released today. It was directed by James Gunn and written by Gunn and Nicole Perlman.

Guardians stars Chris Pratt (Parks and Recreation) as Peter Quill, Bradley Cooper as the voice of Rocket Raccoon, Vin Diesel as the voice of Groot, Dave Bautista as Drax the Destroyer, and Zoe Saldana (Avatar, Star Trek) as Gamora.

Full disclosure: I’ve never read the comics and I knew nothing about the characters, their backstories, or their places in the Marvel Universe. I’m guessing that most viewers will share my ignorance. That’s OK, just go with it and let the tongue-twisters and blasters work their magic.

Make no mistake — Marvel Studios’ Avengers franchise is big business with plenty of big business oversight. Wisecracking animals, walking trees, pratfalls, space battles…it can be hard to fit in all of those beats while preserving some directorial distinctiveness. Fortunately, Gunn’s style comes through well and gives Guardians a joyful spark missing from its brethren (I’m looking at you, Iron Man 2). [Note: While writing this, I was unaware of the controversy surrounding Gunn due to the 2012 spotlighting of some awful, terrible, horrible, homophobic, misogynistic so-called satire that he spewed on his blog two years before before he was confirmed for GotG. I am now aware. The original post has long since vanished from the interwebs, but you can read about it here.]

Fans of Pratt’s Andy Dwyer will recognize the same genial man-child at the heart of Quill, but Pratt also shows that he can play the street smart pirate when necessary. More surprising is Bautista’s excellent performance as Drax. Athletes-turned-actors tend to have issues with timing and diction, but Bautista nailed it.

The most compelling characters in the movie are both animated. Rocket’s sullen abrasiveness belies palpable loneliness. Groot carries some of this sorrow as well. In the third act we learn just how strong the connection is between the two, and I was moved.

Quill is a thief and scavenger with a type of situational morality — sort of like a less violent, more personable Mal. He steals a blue orb that the Big Bad, Ronan (Lee Pace), covets. Pace lays the evil on thick, and it works. Ronan has genocidal ambitions, and wants to Death Star the peaceful planet ~~Alderaan~~ Xander. An aggressively shiny utopia, Xander looks like a cross between Dubai and a new outdoor outlet mall.

What unfolds is a standard space western, but with excellent performances, animation, and humor. It even has a female authority figure, Glenn Close (she’s the one with pieces of the set between her teeth) as Nova Prime, leader of Xander. You will be entertained. Aside from the somewhat clunky exposition sequences, I don’t really have much to criticize.

Except:

1. The first act features not one, but two disposable women. We learn that Quill suffers from parental abandonment. His father is absent, and his mother succumbs to cancer in the prologue. Later, Melia Kreiling portrays Bereet, a vaguely-alien humanoid whose key scene involves Quill shamelessly admitting to forgetting her existence even though they’d recently had sex. In the next scene (two of two for her), she speaks broken English and is servile to Quill; it struck me as an extraterrestrial variation of the Asian girlfriend trope. This was one of the few moments in the film where I actually didn’t like Pratt’s character. Unfortunately, this a-girl-in-every-spaceport sexism is leaned on for laughs throughout the film. Pratt is still playing a heterosexual white male lead, and Gunn won’t let you forget it.

2. I dreaded seeing this trite sexism applied to Saldana’s character, Gamora, the cybernetic assassin (why is it that sexy female aliens are always either green or blue?). When I saw her catsuit and a gratuitous booty shot towards the end of the first act, I felt that my fears were partly born out. To be fair, while she does require saving by male characters on multiple occasions, Gamora does display moderately strong agency throughout the film. Her character is a load-bearing beam rather than a Trinity-esque distraction. If only her last lines could’ve been a little less deferential.

More troubling are some of Saldana’s comments in recent interviews. For example, she told the Los Angeles Times that part of the appeal of the character was the chance to play someone “…so different from herself…”

“Gamora, she’s not feminine in the typical sense of how women are supposed to be. I feel like she has to melt that ice for you to find that little girl in there. She’s very tough, she’s able to relate to the hard talks of it all. When Quill comes at her with that luscious, ‘Hey baby’ [attitude], I’m pretty sure she’s throwing up in her mouth. I liked that, and I thought, ‘OK, that’s something I can incorporate of myself and just shave off a little bit of my femininity.’ Even though I like to believe I’m a tomboy, I’m very feminine, so I just always have to de-train myself and allow my masculinity to seep through because Gamora is much more masculine than I am.”

Her comments seem to imply that combat prowess and femininity are necessarily mutually exclusive, and that it’s not feminine to rebuff the advances of horny dudebros. Those connections elicited a little side eye from this critic.

3. There is a female character credited only as Tortured Pink Girl (Laura Ortiz). For some reason, Benicio Del Toro plays the sadistic Collector (kind of an older, huskier Ziggy Stardust), with whom Quill seeks to do business. We see that the Collector has enslaved at least two women; both are displayed in pigtails and pink jumpers. One is forced to wash the glass cage of the other. The woman in the cage is on her knees, bound and gagged with electric sci-fi ropes, a clear look of pain and fear in her eyes.

Quill and crew are less concerned with the fate of the women than with money and exposition. When the uncaged woman, Carina (Ophelia Lovibond), desperately attempts to use the power of an ancient artifact to free herself, she’s immolated instead. We’re left to assume that the other captive woman is also killed in the subsequent cataclysm (though a dog and an arguably misogynistic duck survive).

Despite these faults, the film is still just too good to skip. While its story and characters are hardly groundbreaking, Guardians of the Galaxy’s combination of dopey humor and frenetic action hits the sweet spot between stupid, exciting, and endearing.

Also on Bitch Flicks: The Avengers: Strong Female Characters and Failing the Bechdel Test.

Andé Morgan lives in Tucson, Arizona, where they write about film, television, and current events. Follow them @andemorgan.

There Are Roles and There Are Roles: Reminders and Expectations from 1992’s ‘Orlando’ (and the “Boo Box” in ‘Hook’)

Despite our limited options and scope in the world of movies, many cinematic characters get their fair share of explorative opportunities. But most of these characters, as many of us know, are male, right down to who we see standing in the frame. This is why for me, the core question of potential is most intricately entwined with female characters in popular movies. Although there have been many great female roles out there, there is much to do nonetheless, and this in turn reminds me of the progress that needs to be made for both sexes and all gender identities.

This is a guest post by Ian Boucher.

Drama is an incredible thing, and it is universal. It provides humans with opportunities to experience a myriad of journeys within themselves through the journeys of others. These journeys can be serious or comedic, grounded or nonsensical, yet they all have the potential to demonstrate the reflections and rabbit holes of humanity.

Unfortunately, in Western culture, due to the now largely industrial nature of storytelling, it’s all too easy to forget about that potential. The film industry represents one of the largest sets of conveyor belts, delivering the same handfuls of story and character elements over and over again in its scramble to stay ahead above the cacophony of story products. Even many of the best movies, whether produced by a studio or independently, largely use archetypes, and many film studios pour the majority of their efforts into blockbuster films, which are generally even simpler in nature.

These are not completely new developments. Rather, they are a result of Western culture’s evolution over thousands of years. The majority of drama has always been produced as entertainment for commercial purposes, and our ideological journey, our cumulative human story explored over thousands of years, has simultaneously been going in wide thematic circles. These developments have also created inherent expectations for the films we watch.

This article, however, isn’t about originality. This is about potential.

I’m a student of the field of communication. I embrace the fact that the perceptions of humanity evolve like a meandering brook, naturally and gradually through time. We do make progress. It just takes us a while. Also, as a film scholar, I understand and love familiarity as well as freshness.

As a Padawan librarian, though, I can’t help but think that we can be more self-aware about how we go about all of this—that, like any activity, the results could be much better if more of the parties involved were conscious about what they were doing, whether creatively or administratively.

Take the recent trailer for Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy, for instance. Like many of our outings in the Marvel Cinematic Universe so far, the trailer told me that what I need to know about Zoe Saldana’s character Gamora—one of two females I noticed in the trailer—is that she can fight and that she might be a romantic interest, in this case for Chris Pratt’s Star-Lord.

Guardians of the Galaxy will be an action movie, and there are a lot of humans out there who love violence and sex, but female characters are very much utilized within those two categories for male characters to experience more often than vice versa, or focusing on the internal experiences of those involved. After all, Hollywood wants its movies to appeal to the most people possible, and this is what has largely worked so far. It is well known that the film industry is very averse to risk-taking.

To make female characters appear more dimensional in recent years, the violent part has been more prominently emphasized, marketed to us as something that makes current female characters different. Hollywood actresses in interviews across the board cite “toughness” as the primary character trait for their roles, even when their roles hold more than that. These roles and the statements about them very much reinforce the larger culture.

And yet, not only are humans three dimensional, but they also like variety, whether they agree with it or not. Just look at the ratings for any national news channel in the United States, where “controversy” abounds.

This is why, when I think about all of this, two movies especially come to mind. For me, they represent the tip of the iceberg where female characters are concerned—the hint of humanity’s dramatic potential. They vividly remind me both of the strength of expectations and the excitement of what movies can work toward. Each film occupies a vastly different place on the filmmaking spectrum—one on the fringes and the other a blockbuster, one a drama and the other a comedy, one a critical success and the other more on the infamous side, but for a few moments, they are inextricably connected, and their different places on the spectrum is precisely the point. They balance each other out.

These movies are Sally Potter’s Orlando (1992) and Steven Spielberg’s Hook (1991).

Stay with me here.

Both movies starkly demonstrate just how far we have to go with our roles, for they each contain a character that transcends the idea of gender, and I don’t mean because these characters are women playing men. Changing gender and sex in the arts is nothing new. The characters I am about to explore represent a great deal of potential for both women and men in storytelling, because they are just about humans playing humans. They both represent the further possibilities of that journey that we are all always taking, and, more inspiringly, do not fall into convention in the process. Additionally, neither is about gimmick, novelty, or even agenda. They are just drama and comedy.

They each fulfill the promise of characters in cinema.

“We are joined, we are one with the human face.”

Orlando is based on the Virginia Woolf novel Orlando: A Biography. The film follows the experiences of a young man named Orlando for about 200 years until one day, he is a woman, and lives out the next 200 years as such. The role of Orlando—for it is one character—is played with perfection by Tilda Swinton, and the movie is strikingly superb from beginning to end in every possible filmmaking dimension, both as a work of art and in legitimate entertainment value. It somehow manages to be abstract and full of reality at the same time, and expertly addresses numerous complicated themes, making them look incredibly simple to explore. This film profoundly captures Orlando’s vast and variegated experience of life as a man and a woman in dramatic and comedic moments as Orlando searches for the understanding of it all along many nuances of human connection. The movie is of course not perfect, but it is moviemaking at its best.

Orlando is a film that can, and has, been viewed in many different ways, especially and understandably so about sex and gender roles, and especially on the feminine side of things. But I see this movie as being about more than sex or gender, whether female or male. Although the film is certainly about all of that, I see it more as being about humanity and the larger human experience. The character of Orlando brings that home in spades, and Tilda Swinton brings it out wonderfully.

On one hand, Orlando certainly is subjected to new injustices from society when she becomes a woman. But although Orlando may finish the film as a woman (with a companion), who is to say that she (or her companion) will stay that way? The film visits the journey of one person experiencing and exploring the whole spectrum of humanity through changing perspectives. Orlando herself says it all when she first becomes a woman: “Same person. No difference at all. Just a different sex.”

Orlando and the movie itself are grand poetry that push our journey forward. They take what Marilyn Monroe’s Roslyn Taber in The Misfits (1961) started saying over half a century ago and bring it to the next level. Both Roslyn and Orlando are indeed misfits, and Orlando hits the humanity that Roslyn is still trying to tell us all about. Orlando does so by being able to transcend sex, gender, mortality, and time, so that we can look at life with a greater amount of understanding.

Orlando is about destiny for men as much as it is for women. The last shot is the most striking of all, because it forces us to face that truth and leave the theater with it. It allows us to look past the lines of gender and just see a human as an adapting organism. As the music says at the end of the film, Orlando really does come “across the divide.” By the end of the film, she is more than male or female. We can move productively toward the future and forget the different kinds of cultural shackles that keep us all down.

It’s so full of possibility.

And yet! Not all movies can or should be so deep all the time. Do all female roles have to so completely change our views?

That’s why my next point in this article is Hook.

“NOT THE BOO BOX!”

One of the elements of Steven Spielberg’s Hook that has proven to best stand the test of time is Glenn Close’s cameo as Gutless the Pirate. (Let the discussion ensue if you just realized this!) Regardless of where many opinions fall when it comes to Hook as a whole, this scene on its own is nevertheless widely regarded as comedy gold.

It is the scene in which we first get to see Captain Hook in the flesh. The “Bad Barracuda,” as he is sometimes evidently known, zeroes in on the one person who doubted his plan to bring Peter Pan’s children back to Neverland. Just one pirate. This pirate is Glenn Close’s Gutless, who seems to hold some kind of shockingly defiant, petty disdain for Captain Hook. Almost immediately after displaying this, Gutless hilariously breaks down into tears, and is subsequently thrown into the dreaded “Boo Box,” or for those uninitiated to Neverland, a treasure chest where they drop scorpions on you.

This is not a scene about the novelty of a woman playing a man, because, before the Internet anyway, most people didn’t even know that Gutless was a woman playing a man. I still see new articles popping up all the time celebrating this realization—each of these realizations not only has clear respect for it, but also enthusiasm. It’s not because Close’s role is about a statement, nor is it because of an agenda on anyone’s part. Gutless’ scene doesn’t particularly mean anything—although I’m sure people can come up with some great analyses for it. It’s just a funny scene. The character is hilarious. Glenn Close’s performance is hilarious. The term “Boo Box” is hilarious. It all just ties together into good comedy.

The grand majority of people love this scene, and they love it even more when they realize it’s Glenn Close. It’s a good actor bringing a character to life that supports and augments the rest of the movie’s sense of humor.

And I know there is more room for this kind of thing in other movies, regardless of genre. Why shouldn’t anybody be able to play any kind of part? (There’s a mouthful.) That is the journey.

Reminders and Expectations

Reminders can go a long way. Business and creativity can move hand in hand. But regardless of what movies do or the power they hold in cultures around the world, what it all comes down to is the stories we tell each other—what we tell each other is what counts.

Orlando and Hook are wonderful reminders that so very little has been explored in storytelling. They both can remind us of the journey that not only women, but humans, can take. Despite what all of the prophesies in movies may tell us, none of us need be, as Orlando put it, “trapped by destiny.” The possibilities for looking at each other as just people are endless.

So where are we now? Where do we want our culture to be? What stories do we want to tell ourselves? What do we want to expect? What do we want to be aware of?

I’m going to go out on a limb here, but it seems to me that the gutlessness of Western culture will only serve to keep us inside the box.

Eh???

We all know the journeys are still out there. Whether you’re a filmmaker or in the audience, why not do something about it today?

What stories remind you?

Trained in communication, film, and television theory and production, Ian Boucher is developing his interests in library science with a focus on information literacy. He enjoys reading, writing, watching movies, exploring the outdoors, and endlessly contemplating the psyches of comic book characters. Feel free to get in touch with him anytime on Twitter (https://twitter.com/Ian_Boucher) — he can talk about this stuff all day!