John Legend – Bitch Flicks

Moments of Sincerity in Otherwise Endless Oscars

What stood out were what seemed like genuine heartfelt moments. John Legend and Common delivered a spirited performance of “Glory” from snubbed director Ava DuVernay’s ‘Selma,’ and an equally impassioned acceptance speech when they won, notable for its intersectionality. They brought up Hong Kong’s fight for democracy, Charlie Hebdo, and America’s shameful prison-industrial complex. “‘Selma’ is now” is a message many need to hear, including their liberal Hollywood audience.

This is a guest post by Josh Ralske.

Here’s the sad, secret truth of every Oscars telecast: There are no winners. Ever. Especially not the audience.

This year’s show — at least, the prefabricated part of the show — peaked early. Neil Patrick Harris does a fairly charming opening musical number with the supremely talented Anna Kendrick, celebrating the movies (of all things), and gets hilariously interrupted by Jack Black (and seriously, thank goodness for Jack Black and his endless comic energy, his wholehearted commitment to whatever bit he’s doing — please let him host one year) who sings a funny, pointed rant calling out Hollywood these days as all about superhero movies and sequels and what the Chinese market will buy. Undeniable truths, and naturally he gets thrown off the stage. In any case, that is no longer the Hollywood that the Oscars celebrate. The blockbusters, for the most part, went home with nothing. Even the highly touted American Sniper, seen by many as a potential upset winner for Best Actor and Best Picture, only got one tech award. Which is a good thing, by my measure. The movie is an odious celebration of a man — if we judge him by his own words — completely unworthy of such.

In any case, the awards mostly celebrated smaller, more idiosyncratic independent films. Which is a good thing, generally, even if the near sweep for Birdman smacked of some intense navel gazing. As JB alluded to, Hollywood is currently fixated on blockbusters, and mid-ranged “cinema of quality”-type movies like The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything need the buzz of awards season to generate moviegoer interest and turn a profit. I didn’t love either of those films, but I think they both have their virtues, whether it’s Imitation‘s acknowledging Alan Turing’s persecution and highlighting the important role women like Joan Clarke played in WWII code-breaking, or Theory‘s sporadic directorial flourishes, which make one wish James Marsh had taken a less literal approach to the material. And of course, both films feature excellent performances, though Eddie Redmayne’s Oscar-winning perfect mimicry of Stephen Hawking has less dramatic impact than any other performance in the category.

It was an upset only because the pundits were wrong, seeing it as a battle between Michael Keaton and Bradley Cooper, when we all know that as far as the Oscars are concerned, the able-bodied actor playing a differently abled person, particularly a real person, always — ALWAYS — wins. That theory also held up with Julianne Moore beating out former Oscar winner Marion Cotillard, who gave the best performance of her career in the brilliant Two Days, One Night, because clearly by the Academy’s high standards, early onset Alzheimer’s is a “real” disability, while depression is not, and the quality of the movie that surrounds the performance is secondary. As someone who has suffered a loss to Alzheimer’s in his own family, and loved Sarah Polley’s Away From Her (for which Julie Christie was nominated for an Oscar, and lost to Cotillard), that melodramatic clip they showed on the telecast of Still Alice is all I need to see of it.

Winner Julianne Moore in Still Alice — Winner Julianne Moore in *Still Alice*

Despite a couple of minor surprises, the show was mostly even duller than usual. Actors, including some great actors, blandly read their introductions from the teleprompters. The one exception, Terrence Howard, was apparently the victim of a technical malfunction. Either that, or he was simply overcome with emotion introducing a clip from Whiplash, but frankly we hope it was the former. NPH’s jokes were mostly bad puns, but he also managed to insult former winner Octavia Spencer, embarrass the snubbed David Oyelowo, and worst of all, smear Edward Snowden with a stupid quip following Citizenfour‘s well-deserved win for Best Documentary Feature. This was especially galling as brilliant documentarian Laura Poitras was one of the few women nominated for anything in a non-gendered category. NPH’s jokey allusions to the unbearable whiteness of the proceedings did little to alleviate our feelings of sadness and disgust over said. Then there was his 11th hour (or at least it felt that way) reading of a long list of weak jokes about the telecast, which he’d spent all night setting up. Seriously, a long-ass way to go for that dumb list, and by that point most of us still watching just wanted to go the fuck to sleep.

Similarly, Lady Gaga’s straightforward rendering of a melody from The Sound of Music was nicely performed, but poorly timed. If the producers need to include such extraneous musical numbers, they really need to frontload them. Once the broadcast hits the three hour mark, no one wants to see anything but awards.

Then there was Best Picture presenter Sean Penn’s dumb joke asking who gave Birdman mastermind Alejandro González Iñárritu, who also won for Best Original Screenplay and Best Director, his green card. Iñárritu claims he found Penn’s joke hilarious, but seriously folks, who wants what is possibly the biggest moment of his career upstaged by such shenanigans? Penn also should have realized that there were many in the millions of viewers who would take his insult at face value. That’s the kind of joke you only make in private. And only if you’re an asshole.

There were other highlights — mostly provided by awardees who shared their personal stories and points-of-view — and other lowlights, mostly provided by John Travolta. Seriously, this was supposed to be Travolta’s chance to redeem himself after last year’s embarrassing “Adele Nazeem” gaffe. Instead, his awkwardly entitled touchy-feely behavior with Scarlett Johansson on the red carpet, and onstage with Idina Menzel, while jokingly apologizing to her for his slip, just highlighted what a bizarre public figure he’s become. Scientology doesn’t seem to be helping him much these days.

Common and John Legend performing Oscar-winning "Glory" — Common and John Legend performing Oscar-winning “Glory”

Beyond that, what stood out seemed like genuine heartfelt moments. John Legend and Common delivered a spirited performance of “Glory” from snubbed director Ava DuVernay’s Selma, and an equally impassioned acceptance speech, notable for its intersectionality, when they won. They brought up Hong Kong’s fight for democracy, Charlie Hebdo, and America’s shameful prison-industrial complex. “Selma is now” is a message many need to hear, obviously including their white liberal Hollywood audience.

Megan Kearns makes some excellent observations about that, about Imitation Game screenwriter Graham Moore’s affecting acceptance speech, and about Oscar winner Patricia Arquette’s controversial remarks backstage. Arquette made a public stand on an undeniably important issue, and seemingly spoke off the cuff, so while I empathize with those who were offended, I’m inclined to be more forgiving of the tone deafness of her remarks. Beyond that, those moments of what appeared to be genuine sincerity helped get me through the slog of that endless telecast.

Josh Ralske is a freelance film writer based in New York. He has written for MovieMaker Magazine and All Movie Guide.

‘Chef!’: The Perfectly Imperfect Marital Eroticism of Janice and Gareth

Gareth does not “happen to be Black”; the pressure on him to conform to white culture, to avoid limiting his own narrative, mirrors the show’s own need to conform to that culture, to avoid limiting its audience. This conflict is slyly embodied in plausibly deniable food metaphor.

Janice and Gareth's stressful ideal — Janice and Gareth’s stressful ideal

Written by Brigit McCone as part of our theme week on Black Families.

If I had to point to one screen marriage that shaped my childhood ideas about marriage’s potential as positive partnership and intense intimacy, it would be Janice and Gareth Blackstock on the first two seasons of the British sitcom Chef!. The original writer, Peter Tilbury (working from star Lenny Henry’s concept), left after two seasons, and the final season’s crude divorce drama only highlights what made Tilbury’s vision so brilliant. In the final season, Janice is not a fully rounded partner, but an obstacle and challenge for Gareth. Where her constructive criticism was a form of protective support, it is now scornful nagging and abandonment. Her desire for a child is now her main motivation and source of conflict with Gareth. The third season’s Janice is the irritating, castrating and baby-crazy screen wife that viewers have seen a thousand times before; the contrast illustrates everything that was subtle and human about Janice’s original characterization.

From a racial perspective, Chef! might be compared to The Cosby Show, as portraying an exceptionally talented, sophisticated, and wealthy Black family. But where the Huxtables effortlessly “have it all,” somehow combining two careers and a large family with inhumanly minimal friction, the Blackstocks acknowledge that their lifestyle demands real sacrifice. Janice had to leave a flourishing career in the city to accompany Gareth, after his promotion to head chef of a prestigious, rural restaurant; she is outspokenly frustrated and eager to work again. When the restaurant has financial problems, the couple must sacrifice their house and car to buy it, admitting that the resulting tension “feels like you’ve eaten a lorry-load of All-Bran.” They are childless, and the conflict between their workaholic careerism and their hopes for children is openly explored. Each has a defensive facade of toughness and hyper-competence, but their scenes together explore the toll that this facade takes and the vulnerability it conceals. The sitcom’s central comedy is the farcical exaggeration of Gareth’s intimidating facade – “totally driven. We’re talking severe personality disorder here” – and its contrast with his inner softness. The perfection of Janice and Gareth’s marriage is not based on a perfection of their lives or personalities, but on their shared concept of marriage as a space of solidarity that accepts flaws and conflict.

That model of acceptant marriage is the bedrock of the show. In the opening credits, the lyrics “I’m the best, so do not test, the top of my profession” play over a montage of Gareth’s hyper-competence – working out and preparing the immaculate tools of his culinary trade – broken only when he briefly strokes the glossy picture of Janice that hangs in his locker, as though for reassurance. This image of her face comes before Gareth’s own face, underlining her importance to the show. Janice’s character can be read as rewriting the Sapphire stereotype, exploring the loving foundations of constructive criticism and the emotional intimacy of openly expressed frustration. Gareth’s farcical posturing can equally be read as parodying hypermasculine models of Black manhood, as much as bad-tempered celebrity chefs, while his sensitivity and capacity for nurture is his character’s true strength. The show’s unusually erotic portrait of monogamous marriage compares with the marital eroticism of Beyoncé’s “Drunk in Love” which, along with the self-identified feminist’s proud adoption of Mrs. Carter as a title, radically rejects stereotypes of absent fathers in the Black community. John Legend’s “All of Me” video showcases similar aesthetics of marital eroticism, while that song’s description of loving “perfect imperfections” is a good summary of Janice and Gareth’s relationship. But reducing their relationship to a cultural trend of Black marital eroticism would be far too limiting: it is, quite simply, television’s most perfectly imperfect marriage.

As well as the strain of hyper-competence, Chef! confronts the cultural tensions in narratives of Black exceptionalism, mainly through Everton, Gareth’s never-really-liked-you-anyway-probably-flush-your-head-down-the-toilet-as-soon-as-look-at-you old schoolmate, who shares Gareth’s working class, British Caribbean background. Though Janice and Gareth help Everton, by offering him an unpaid apprenticeship in Gareth’s kitchen, it is clear that this is owing to the restaurant’s desperate finances, with Gareth particularly reluctant to take Everton on. On the surface, Everton fills the familiar role of goofy sidekick. Actually, although his unfamiliarity with restaurant etiquette causes some farce, he is capable and acquires skills steadily as the series progresses. The comical embarrassment that Everton causes Gareth is less a reflection of his foolishness than of his culture.

Gareth squirms at Everton’s pride in Caribbean cooking, having fully internalized cultural messages about the superior prestige of French haute cuisine and frequently boasting of his two Michelin stars. He automatically assumes that Everton is a “dope-head” (the marijuana belongs to a white co-worker) and fiercely attacks him for it, separating himself from that cultural stereotype with a barked “I hate dope-heads!” Gareth’s intense rejection of his own culture is rooted in personal conflict with his parents. Again, this tension is expressed in culinary terms: his mother’s neglect is illustrated by her incompetence as a chef, or perhaps by Gareth’s bitterness over that incompetence, while his father abandons the family for a short-order cook. When asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, young Gareth answered “an orphan.” Janice becomes insecure when Gareth shows admiration for the cooking skills of pretty, blonde sous-chef Lucinda, though he is otherwise “Mr. Monogamy.” Dominant stereotypes of Black life – absent fathers, neglectful mothers and attraction to blondes – are all slyly embodied by the show’s cooking metaphors, giving complicated symbolic resonance to Gareth’s determination to master society’s most prestigious cuisine.

Gareth’s broadly accented Caribbean father is introduced in the first season’s “Rice and Peas” finale, goading Gareth into trying to cook Caribbean food. The master chef is humbled by being forced to learn from Everton, highlighting his detachment from his roots, while Everton reveals a genius for Caribbean cookery that rivals Gareth’s own skill at haute cuisine. By the end of the second season, Everton has become a confident chef who combines Caribbean influences and haute cuisine, unapologetically owning his cultural identity but refusing to be limited by it. However, this is only made possible by the opportunity the Blackstocks have given him; their strained and self-conscious hyper-competence is a necessary first step to wider cultural change. Through Gareth’s complex relationship with Everton, Chef! foregrounds the tensions of so-called “choc ice” (British for “oreo”) cultural positions, without simplistically condemning them. The show’s Wikipedia entry commends Chef! as “a landmark programme in the sense that Henry plays a character who just happens to be black; the fact of his blackness does not limit the narrative or the audience the series reaches.” This misses the point. Gareth does not “happen to be Black”; the pressure on him to conform to white culture, to avoid limiting his own narrative, mirrors the show’s own need to conform to that culture, to avoid limiting its audience. This conflict is slyly embodied in plausibly deniable food metaphor.

Back to Janice. Janice is all kinds of awesome as a character. A brilliant businesswoman, she is practical in all the ways the flamboyant artist, Gareth, is not, but shares his preoccupation with status. Janice is hilariously open about her materialism, yet prepared to sacrifice everything for Gareth if absolutely, absolutely necessary. Both Janice and Gareth are self-conscious social performers, but the basis of their relationship is their shared recognition of that performance’s artificiality, by no more than a quirk of a smile or a raised eyebrow. Their affinity, beautifully shown in their common flaws as much as in their virtues, creates the deep understanding between them. Janice is strong, but this doesn’t prevent her from admitting weakness: “I’m going to be brave in a minute. But, just right now, I’m going to break down completely, OK? I don’t mean a dignified tear or a trembling lip, I’m talking wet, snotty bawling!” With a sharp-tongued wit of her own, Janice may often play the foil to Gareth’s shrieking manbaby, but she is allowed to be his equal in comedy as well as in business. Gareth is also allowed to be Janice’s equal in emotional vulnerability: “I’m not going to cry because I’m a big boy now, but if I wasn’t, or if I was a ‘New Man,’ we could be talking wet, snotty bawling here.”

The Blackstocks’ relationship is physically intimate; Janice’s frustration is a running gag as Gareth’s workload leaves him too tired for sex, but the couple’s sex life remains “well above average.” Indeed, jokes about Janice’s sexual frustration only highlight how much more sex she’s depicted getting than other sitcom wives. It is less spectacular intimacies, however, that make the relationship convincing: Lenny Henry and Caroline Lee Johnson capture the subtleties of body language that convey affection and mutual reassurance in long-term relationships. Secure in this foundation of bodily affection, the Blackstocks are free to argue and vent their frustrations openly. Much of their relationship’s conflict springs from Janice’s sense of being neglected by her workaholic husband; that is, it is fundamentally rooted in the pair’s deep love for each other. When the final season’s (male) writers attempted to create drama by escalating the couple’s rows into full-blown separation, they could do so only at the expense of Janice’s character, flattening her into unsympathetic coldness. While this season shows how important Janice is to Gareth, through his devastation when she leaves and his desperation to win her back, that demonstration was unnecessary. Chef! wasn’t another clichéd show about a man who doesn’t appreciate what he has until it’s gone. The co-dependence of Janice and Gareth was fundamental to all their interactions.

Such co-dependence may be criticized. Janice would struggle to pass a Bechdel test, as she relates so exclusively to Gareth, though I see this as reflecting her rural isolation and the sacrifices she has made for Gareth’s career. Janice regularly complains about her loneliness, career frustrations and feelings of neglect; the insufficiency of a life that revolves only around her husband is core to her role. Such a portrait, of female frustration with the confines of a dependent role, can be as valuable as portraits of ideal female solidarity and independence. Janice needs a sense of vocation, which she gains by managing Gareth’s restaurant. Janice also needs friends and interests beyond her husband, which is explicitly addressed in the Tilbury-scripted episode Private Lives. In the finale of Chef!, Gareth’s underlying issues, his cultural identity crisis, and neglect of his private life, are tackled as he must sacrifice a trip to Paris to fly instead to Jamaica with Janice and work on their relationship. But the (so very male) writers of the final season are mistaken to interpret Janice’s relationship as the source of her frustrations. It is Janice’s life that is constricting, as she shares Gareth’s conflict between her materialist ambition and her emotional needs. But her marriage is a model of mutual support and open communication.

This is classic “patriarchy hurts men, too”: if a woman is understood only in relation to men, this means her male partner must be unfairly burdened with sole responsibility for her entire psychological well-being. The fact that the (oh so painfully male) writers could see no solution to Janice’s problems but a choice between divorce or more sex, with a romantic holiday to Jamaica thrown in, points to deeper problems in our concept of relationships and female roles. A chance for Gareth and Janice to grow as individuals, within the supportive framework of a relationship that needed no repair, would have been the more perfect ending for this perfectly imperfect marriage.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVBSKVsr0a0″]

Janice and Gareth: they’re the best, so do not test.

Brigit McCone has unrealistically gendered catering expectations, since her father was the chef at home. She writes short films, radio dramas and “The Erotic Adventures of Vivica” (as Voluptua von Temptitillatrix). Her hobbies include doodling and she now lives off baked potatoes.

Male Feminists & Allies Theme Week: The Roundup

Check out all of the posts for Male Feminists and Allies Theme Week here.

Revenge of the Pussycats: An Ode to Tarantino and His Women by Emanuela Betti

Tarantino has created dynamic and interesting female characters throughout his cinematic career, celebrating their strengths, personalities, and never presenting gender as an obstacle—instead, being a woman in his stories is often an advantage.

“A Bit Of An Evolution”: On Louis C.K. by Max Thornton

It’s exhausting to consume any media as a trans* person. It’s not really a matter of if I will become a punchline, but when. This goes triple or quadruple for comedy, and Louis C.K., for all his good qualities, is no exception.

Pacific Rim’s Raleigh Becket Is a Strong Female Character, and That’s Great by Deborah Pless

So, yes. Raleigh Becket is a Strong Female Character. Sure, he’s not female, but as far as our understanding of SFCs goes–which here means well-written female and feminine characters–he’s aces. Raleigh Becket is supportive, sweet, intuitive, and loving, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Not a damn thing.

Sir Patrick Stewart Fights Domestic Violence, Gives Out Hugs, and Flies a Spaceship by Rachel Redfern

And in a society where male revelations about abuse, physical, emotional, or sexual, are still considered a mark of weakness, it’s fantastic that such a successful figure is willing to set an example. Especially when that person is Captain Jean Luc Picard, a super smart, sexy, sensitive, nerves-of-steel spaceship captain. I have a feminist daydream of Kirk (Shatner), Janeway (Mulgrew), Sisco (Brooks), and Picard (Stewart) doing a women’s rights PSA: I would make it my ringtone forever.

“If the Apocalypse Comes, Beep Me.” Joss Whedon Writes Badass Women by Artemis Linhart

Adelle, Willow, Zoë, Natasha–you name her, Joss Whedon offers a multitude of heroines with a wide range of diverse identities. A topic as extensive as this, regarding a person with as much output as Joss Whedon’s, would serve to fill entire volumes.

Hey Boy: An Appraisal of Ryan Gosling’s Feminism by Rachael Johnson

Canadian-born Ryan Gosling is a talented actor, charismatic movie star and global sex symbol. The Notebook (2004) made Gosling a romantic screen icon but he has also, of course, given a number of inspired, thought-provoking performances in both independent and mainstream movies. His roles have been mostly varied and complex, but if you want a general sketch of his screen persona, I would say it’s a potent mix of melancholy, vulnerability, romanticism and sensuality. There is also an aggressive side. While they may retain a vulnerable aspect, he has played quite a few violent men. A seductive presence on the screen, Gosling is also an object of desire for multitudes of women around the world.

Eddie Vedder’s Feminism: Flannel-Clad Activism by Leigh Kolb

Vedder has spent his career fighting for a modern world that accepts and promotes women–he’s fought for reproductive rights, spoken out against sexual assault, and worked for worldwide safe pregnancy/childbirth.

Quote of the Day: Marlo Thomas on Male Allies

“… as we all know, in all movements, the only way to effect change is for everyone to be moving it forward.”

“I Wasn’t Finished”: Divine Masculinity in Untamed Heart by Jenny Lapekas

Caroline somehow knows that Adam is not a typical young man simply working for minimum wage at a local diner in Minnesota; he is a heavenly catalyst sent not to offer completeness in Caroline’s life, but to remind her that she is worth loving, even in his absence.

A Sunny South Korean Song for Sisterhood by Ben Cowburn

… Kang seems to be a strong advocate for feminism in film. Though South Korea cinema (and the country as a whole) clearly needs far more women in off-screen positions of power, Sunny seems like a small but hopeful step towards equality, and may well inspire girls in today’s high school cliques to one day demand those positions.

Sandy Cohen: Father, Husband, Friend, and Feminist Ally by Victor Kirksey-Brown

When you think about feminism in television, The OC and teen soaps in general are probably not the first example to come to mind. If you’re not familiar with The OC, it’s about a troubled youth named Ryan Atwood (Ben McKenzie) who is taken in by the Cohens, a very wealthy family, after his own family has abandoned him. I’m very passionate about The OC and it is much more than that, but I shall not digress (or at least try not to). The Cohens are comprised of Kirsten (Kelly Rowan), a wonderful mother as well as a successful architect and businesswoman, Seth (Adam Brody), the awkward and endearing pop-culture-referencing son, and Sandy (Peter Gallagher), a righteous public defender, father, and husband.

Matt Damon’s On- and Off-Screen Feminism by Lady T

My first introduction to Matt Damon was the same as many movie viewers – Good Will Hunting, a film that he starred in and co-wrote with Ben Affleck. It was my favorite film of 1997 and still holds a special place in my heart for its humor, poignancy, and moving portrayal of the lasting effects of abuse.

Tootsie: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Woman by Rebecca Cohen

So what’s feminist about it? Although the word “feminist” is never uttered, Michael plays Dorothy as a bold, liberated woman. At the audition, slimy director Ron Carlisle (Dabney Coleman) tells Dorothy she’s too “soft and genteel” and “not threatening enough” for the part. Dorothy replies: “Yes, I think I know what y’all really want. You want some gross caricature of a woman. To prove some idiotic point, like, like power makes women masculine, or masculine women are ugly… Well shame on the woman who lets you do that.” Right out of the gate, Dorothy not only speaks her mind, but also openly protests sexism.

Quote of the Day: John Legend on Why All Men Should Be Feminists

“All men should be feminists. If men care about women’s rights the world will be a better place…

“We are better off when women are empowered – it leads to a better society.”

Quote of the Day: John Legend on Why All Men Should Be Feminists

“All men should be feminists. If men care about women’s rights the world will be a better place…

“We are better off when women are empowered – it leads to a better society.”

As we wrap up our week of celebrating male feminists and allies, it seems appropriate to conclude with the words of singer/songwriter/actor John Legend.

Last spring, Legend said:

“All men should be feminists. If men care about women’s rights the world will be a better place…

“We are better off when women are empowered – it leads to a better society.”

While the role of an ally can sometimes be murky, it would be hard to deny that more male feminists who care about women’s rights and empowering women have a clear role in the move toward equality.

There can be women’s movement after women’s movement, but until men move with us, we can’t all move together. And at the end of the day, the best society will be one full of equally empowered women and men, working together to crush harmful gender stereotypes and expectations, which harm everyone.