Jurassic World – Bitch Flicks

‘Mad Max: Fury Road’: Violence Helps Our Heroines Have a Lovely Day

Furiosa, stabbed and wounded yet still persistent, takes down the main villain Immortan Joe. “Remember me?” Furiosa growls just before ripping his breathing apparatus–and half of his face–clean off. That quip may seem like your average cool one-liner, but for me it is so much more than that. It’s Furiosa, our female protagonist, who takes out the bad guy. Not Max. Not Nux, or any other male character. Her.

This guest post by Sophie Hall appears as part of our theme week on Violent Women.

This article contains spoilers for Mad Max: Fury Road, Avengers: Age of Ultron and Jurassic World.

Is Mad Max: Fury Road the greatest feminist blockbuster of the year? Or is it simply, in the words of Immortan Joe, mediocre? This has been endlessly debated over the past few months since the film’s release in May and though opinions may vary, I feel that this is one of the more successful attempts at female representation in a blockbuster and my favourite of the year so far. This is largely due to how violence and female characters in Fury Road intertwine, like how the characters both embrace violence and reject it.

Furiosa ready for battle

Let’s start with the most obvious character to analyse: Furiosa. What struck me most about violence and her character was how it kept her in the limelight. By that, I mean she didn’t have to teach Max or Nux to fight so that they could save the day. In an article at Black Girl Nerds titled “Strong Characters are Barely Strong and Rarely Characters” (about female characters in general), writer Bijhan Valibeigi states that

“In the first act we meet her and she seems rude and dismissive, saying ‘whatever’ and rolling her eyes. In the second act we are shown that she secretly has a feminine and caring side – almost universally in the process of learning that she secretly cares for the male protagonist, and is too insecure to admit it. In the third act she learns to reconcile her feelings for the protagonist with her tough-as-nails identity and uses some typically ‘for boys’ skills – usually combat, but also often hacking or deductive science – to save the male protagonist… so that he can save the day.”

But in Fury Road, this is more the case for Max than Furiosa; she uses violence for herself and herself alone. Max and Nux’s characters are not blessed with Furiosa’s pearls of violent wisdom so that they can excel and save the day. There’s even a scene in the film that were it given to your everyday Hollywood writer, it would have panned out differently (and disappointingly). When their rig is stuck in the bog, Max’s character is trying and failing to shoot an approaching enemy. This would have been the perfect opportunity for Furiosa to guide Max and let him save the day. She could have given him your typical supportive BS like, “relax,” “just breath,” “we believe in you,” “take your time,” “use the force,” etc. Instead, Furiosa uses Max’s shoulder as an armrest as she hits the target with a single shot.

Furiosa telling Max to sit down

For Furiosa to not let another male character steal the scene with heroic violence but instead to rely on her own self-confidence and do it herself is a breath of fresh air for the audience members, particularly female ones. Furiosa doesn’t have to tell how violent she is; she shows us.

Max’s character is actually a complement to the violent women of the film. He never once treats Furiosa’s violence with disdain over the fact that she’s a woman. He always treats her as his equal. He treats her with hostility when they first meet not because he underestimates her, but because he understands that she’s his physical equal and a threat. There is no condescension. As he is the co-leading protagonist of the film, the way that he perceives Furiosa is vital as it is how the audience will be guided to see her through his gaze.

Furiosa having control and using her own violence is again highlighted in the final showdown of Fury Road. Furiosa, stabbed and wounded yet still persistent, takes down the main villain Immortan Joe. “Remember me?” Furiosa growls just before ripping his breathing apparatus–and half of his face–clean off. That quip may seem like your average cool one-liner, but for me it is so much more than that. It’s Furiosa, our female protagonist, who takes out the bad guy. Not Max. Not Nux, or any other male character. Her. It’s as if she’s saying it directly to the audience as well as at Immortan Joe. Even though the scene is extremely brutal, the violence of it can again be seen as to empower women. Our representation defeats the bad guy!

This gives our female audience members a pleasure that we so far haven’t really experienced this year (granted, Star Wars and Mockingjay Part 2 are still yet to be released). We almost had it in Age of Ultron when Scarlet Witch rips out Ultron’s heart, apart from the fact that his doom was moments away anyway and that Vision’s character was the one to destroy Ultron’s final form. We kind of had it in Jurassic World when Claire’s character releases the T-Rex on the Indominous Rex, but the moment is dampened when she tells her male colleague to “be a man for once in his life” and help her beforehand. Furiosa doesn’t have to discredit her violence in order to use violence to save the day, whereas Claire had to.

Even though Furiosa’s link to violence can be seen as empowering to her gender in Fury Road, one of the more interesting things I found writer/director George Miller doing was having The Wives not be inherently violent. When Furiosa tried to kill Nux in self-defense, The Wives intervene and remind Furiosa that they had agreed to “no unnecessary killing!” Now, Miller could have easily made The Wives bloodthirsty characters with no substance like this years Sand Snakes on Game of Thrones, but Miller did the opposite, giving them more depth and intelligence.

The Wives’ reasoning for sparing Nux was the he’s “kamakrazee,” which means he’s one of Immortan Joe’s war boys. This implies that The Wives know that Nux is just brainwashed by Immortan’s regime and is a victim of his rule. I found this one of the more profound moments of Fury Road, as The Wives have more reason than any to want to inflict violence on others as so much of it has been inflicted on them, yet they do not.

Miller even has a scene where one of The Wives, The Dag, discusses the reasons for violence- with another female character! Yay for no mansplaining! “I thought you girls were above all that,” The Dag says to one of the Many Mothers as she described how she shoots her enemies. Even the topic of violence helps to develop the pairs characters, as the Many Mother entrust The Dag her seeds she’d been keeping to plant one day as she’s dying.

The Dag saying goodbye to one of the Many Mothers

Better still, Miller doesn’t directly state that Furiosa and the Many Mothers’ use of violence are wrong and The Wives’ lack of violence is right. He hints more at that they need to co-exist with one another. For example, as a result of The Wives having Nux spared leads to their survival, as Nux later sacrifices himself to protect them and Furiosa needed to be violent in order to save the day and defeat the bad guy.

The mix of these two stances the women have on violence leads to them creating a peaceful matriarchal society at the end of Fury Road. Which brings me to what I most love about how violence was portrayed in this film: both the traditionally feminine characters against violence and the traditionally masculine characters who use violence are all meant to be treated with respect by the audience–one isn’t right, one isn’t wrong. The violence in Fury Road doesn’t make the women at odds with each other, but helps bind them together.

Sophie Hall is from London and has graduated from university with a degree in Creative Writing. She is currently writing a sci-fi comic book series called White Leopard for the website http://www.wpcomicsltd.com.

The Dinosaur Struggle Is Real: Let’s Talk About Claire Dearing’s Bad Rep and Childhood Nostalgia

Does Claire have to forgo her more gentle side to have some form of agency in the corporate world? Does she have to exhibit traditionally masculine traits in order to operate within a male dominated realm? Is she less of a woman because she’s not very interested in kids or having kids? There’s a dichotomy going on here that’s worth exploring.

This is a guest post by Ashley Barry.

Jurassic World‘s opening cinematic had me starry eyed and shivering with excitement. The familiar but epic score accompanied by grand, sweeping shots of Costa Rica transported me right back to my childhood. I’m surprised my face didn’t fracture because a smile was perpetually plastered on it during the entire length of the introductory cinematic. I was home and temporarily lost in the labyrinth of my own nostalgia.

The first installment of the series was released in 1993 and, for some unknown reason, my parents allowed me to watch it. I was five years old and an easily spooked kid (I was afraid of shower drains for crying out loud). With the exception of the infamous tyrannosaurus rex scene, during which I hid underneath a heavy blanket I couldn’t see through, I was blown away by the idea of a dinosaur park and I idolized Ellie Sattler. The franchise itself later evolved into a familial tradition, my dad toting home the newest installment from the rental store whenever I came down with some form of the plague.

It’s difficult to outdo the original movie and, at times, Jurassic World seemed like it was trying to do just that. Though Jurassic World was filled with throwbacks, even going so far as to revisit the original park, I preferred the first film because it didn’t focus so much on gender politics. They were in a crisis situation and there was no time to argue or zone in on such things. Anybody could be a dinosaur’s dinner. Jurassic Park was the first of its kind and, for me at least, the character development was more organic and believable.

Ellie, an empowering character, was never required to forgo her femininity or empathy to be strong and capable. Though she adhered to the final girl trope during the scene in which she had to override the controls in the control room (the most inconveniently placed control room ever), she was an expert in her field and, whether she was working in the dirt or reaching into a colossal pile of triceratops dung, she was unafraid to literally dirty her hands. Though she was just as capable as her male counterparts and coworkers, she still rocked her neatly pinned hair and cut off shorts.

Ellie was never criticized for having a career or not being maternal enough, as if there’s some kind of scale in existence that makes such a determination. She was able to retain her femininity and empathy whereas Claire, in Jurassic World, switched from a hardened non-maternal figure to a maternal figure, a transition that felt forced. I truly believe Claire was assigned a negative and unforgiving reputation. Whether it was the digs at her femininity or her disinterest in having children of her own, it was an unfair reputation she didn’t deserve.

Claire Dearing, the parks operations manager, is a great example of a modern if not progressive woman in that she’s highly career-oriented and ambitious. I reveled in the fact that she’s a female identifying person who’s in a position of power in the corporate world, which is a typically male-dominated space. It’s great to see her acting as her own agent, but in selecting a career over a family, Claire is often distracted and, at times, disconnected from what’s really going on behind the scenes. She’s usually awkward around and sometimes indifferent toward her nephews, which the film presents as a flaw. Does Claire have to forgo her more gentle side to have some form of agency in the corporate world? Does she have to exhibit traditionally masculine traits in order to operate within a male dominated realm? Is she less of a woman because she’s not very interested in kids or having kids? There’s a dichotomy going on here that’s worth exploring.

Claire is either presented as cold and uptight, seeing the dinosaurs as investments rather than actual animals, or she’s warm and caring and inherently maternal. It’s problematic because the film reinforces the idea that all women are inherently maternal and to unlock a woman’s maternal instinct is as simple as triggering an on/off switch. At the beginning of the film narrative, Claire not only forgets how old her nephews are, but she leaves them in the care of her assistant due to her hectic schedule. Is it really a problem? Is it really her problem? Why are the other characters passing such harsh judgment on her? Are they exempt from judgment? Consider, for a moment, the reality of how busy Claire must be. Her career is obviously important to her but she’s also in an authoritative position, meaning she’s likely under a lot of stress. Why are her duties cast aside? Despite her success, the other characters often scrutinize her for not being maternal enough.

There’s a scene in which she has a heated discussion with her sister, Karen. When Karen stresses the importance of close familial ties, she’s operating under the assumption that Claire will have children someday. Claire’s response is short and to the point, but firm. Not all women want children and that should never be viewed as a shameful or selfish want. Motherhood does not make a woman. Though Claire corrects her sister, she’s still viewed as the quasi-villain of the film. She’s under constant scrutiny from other characters, characters that want to alter her in some way.

“When you have kids of your own—“

“’If,’ not ‘when.’”

There’s a shift at one point in the film when the hybrid dinosaur escapes its enclosure and becomes a real threat. Claire’s transition from cold business woman to maternal figure is more apparent at this point. I recall a moment where Claire looks at one of the security monitors and watches a mother comfort her child. This instance may or may not be the thing that triggers Claire’s inherent maternalness. However, the unlocking of Claire’s inherent maternalness aligns with the trope of the fierce or ferociously protective mother. When Claire presents as an active agent of the corporate world, she relies on her intelligence to carry her through. When her maternal side is unlocked, she goes from being an uptight business woman to a sexy action hero. It raises a few questions. Is her womanhood only a cause for celebration when she accepts her maternal side? Is she more of a woman now that she has taken on the protective role of the mother figure?

After luring the t-rex out of its enclosure, there’s a sexualized shot of Claire lying on her side. The shot itself is clearly intended for the male gaze. With her red hair all mussed and her arms bare, the audience is viewing and consuming a very different version of Claire. It’s a version that doesn’t quite line up with her original character. Does she want to revel in her sexuality? Does she even have time to do so? In becoming a more protective figure, she has become more traditionally feminine. Is she only able to loosen up when adopting a more protective role?

There has been a lot of backlash in regards to Claire’s outfit, especially her stiletto footwear. She’s receiving backlash from both the fictional people in her own world and real life movie-goers. It’s a hard and definitely unfair burden to bear. Visually, Claire is dressed in all white towards the start of the film, which might be a nod to John Hammond but it’s also the very picture of sterility. This image circles back to Claire not wanting children and could be read as a visual representation of her neutralized attitude towards them. When she commits to saving her nephews, she ties her shirt in a fashion that’s similar to Ellie’s shirt. Though my childhood self appreciates the throw back, especially because it’s a throw back to my idol, Owen ruined it for me because he made fun of her “impractical” outfit. Instead of being taken seriously, she became the punch line of a joke and it’s not the first instance in which she served as the punch line of a joke. Is that her only purpose? Is she there to be poked, prodded, and laughed at?

Lastly, there’s something to be said about her stiletto footwear. Too often we’re taught to view and interpret symbols of femininity as things that are weak, vain, and impractical. Personally, I would have rolled my ankles had I been running away from dinosaurs in those heels. Claire impressed me with how well she managed in those nude colored heels of hers. It might have been a painful experience, but she endured the pain to not only save her own skin but to save others as well. There’s a kind of strength in that and it’s a strength that needs to be acknowledged and celebrated.

Claire isn’t a bad character. She’s smart and strong, but she operates in a world that wants to change her and back her into a wall. Ellie was feminine and caring, but that was OK. Though Jurassic World had some great parts, I struggled with the film as a whole because everyone was trying to make a villain out of Claire and a hero out of Owen. Oddly enough, I felt as though the first installment was more progressive in its presentation of deeply developed male and female characters. It’s 2015. Shouldn’t we be moving in a forward direction?

Ashley Barry works at a publishing house in Boston and holds a master’s degree in children’s literature. Though her background is in the book business, she loves writing about all mediums. She’s also a contributing writer for a video game website called Not Your Mama’s Gamer. She can be reached at abarry4099@gmail.com.