‘Earth Girls Are Easy’ and Charming

Being set in the Valley in the 80s, the film portrays much of the vapidness and consumerism popular at the time, with two of the film’s songs, “Brand New Girl,” and “’Cause I’m a Blonde,” focusing on changing or criticizing women’s appearances. “’Cause I’m a Blonde” is purposely satirical, however, and really serves more to make fun of the blonde “Valley Girl” stereotype than to support it.

Earth
Earth Girls Are Easy poster

 

This guest post by Libby White appears as part of our theme week on Cult Films and B Movies.

I’ve loved Earth Girls Are Easy since I was a child. My mother and I would watch it together regularly, even though many of the sexual moments went beyond my comprehension at the time. Having become an adult in the 80s, my mother was a big fan of shows like In Living Color, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. And Earth Girls Are Easy can best be described as the love child of both.

Campy, with over-the-top 80s style, and catchy, but ridiculous, musical numbers, it was a box office flop that faded into obscurity for many years. But it prevailed and has recently reemerged (thanks to DVD and the Internet), and has become a fledgling cult classic.

The pre-makeover aliens
The pre-makeover aliens

 

Taking place in San Fernando Valley, California, the movie revolves around Valerie Gail (Geena Davis), a love-sick manicurist who is desperate to please her unfaithful fiancé, Ted. A classic Valley-girl and hopelessly devoted, Valerie is shocked when a spaceship carrying three aliens suddenly lands in her pool one morning. When she realizes the three creatures are harmless, she takes them to her salon to be made over by her friend Candy (Julie Brown). Sheared of their colorful fur, the two women are delighted to realize that underneath, the aliens appear like normal, even attractive, human men. They decide to take the aliens out on the town, and end up at a crowded club, where Zeebo and Wiploc (Damon Wayans and Jim Carrey), become hits with the club’s women. Mac (Jeff Goldblum), has his eyes set on Valerie, however, and the two share a quiet moment together on the roof.

Earth girls and their aliens
Earth girls and their aliens

 

When Valerie finally takes the men back home, Ted is there waiting, and demands that the three men leave his house. Valerie reminds Ted that he no longer is welcome due to his cheating, and the police come and take him away. In an attempt to console her, Mac follows Valerie to her bedroom, and the two end up making love.

The next morning, Mac, Wiploc, and Zeebo repair the spaceship, and Mac announces that they will be ready to leave shortly. Valerie is visibly crestfallen, but is interrupted by an apologetic phone call from Ted. Unbeknownst to Valerie, Mac overhears her trying to work things out with Ted. Meanwhile outside, Woody, a pool-boy, comes by and convinces Wiploc and Zeebo to go to the beach with him to pick up women, and the three get caught up in an accidental robbery, a police chase, and a forced trip to the hospital. Valerie and Mac team up to break them out, using the aliens’ otherworldly powers to fool Ted, the attending doctor, and escape.

When they arrive back at home, Mac, believing Valerie to still be in love with Ted, uses his powers to distract her while he and his comrades move onto the now-working spaceship. Valerie snaps out of it however, and admits to Mac that she has fallen in love with him, and jumps onto the ship to join him. Candy happens by just as they take off into the sunset, and Valerie waves goodbye.

Valerie and Mac
Valerie and Mac

 

The casting for Earth Girls Are Easy is one of its best attributes, and it feels as if each character is essential to the movie. Each actor brought with him or her a special spark to the film from his or her own personal styles; Damon Wayans and Jim Carrey being the comedy, Jeff Goldblum the smoldering seduction, Julie Brown the music, and Geena Davis, the charisma.

Geena Davis is a long-time advocate for the fair representation of women in media, and has been a feminist icon for decades. And while Earth Girls was filmed several years before her rise into activism, Valerie Gail is a good female character (despite such stereotypical flaws as occasional air-headedness and thinking marriage will fix all of a relationship’s problems). She is the voice of reason to Candy’s party-girl recklessness with the aliens, and is as loyal as they come to those she cares about. And the chemistry between Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum is palpable. Considering the two were married at the time of filming, it’s easy to believe that Valerie could meet and fall in love with Mac all within a day. Damon Wayans’ and Jim Carrey’s characters are adorably hilarious as well, stealing scene after scene with their constant troublemaking.

Julie Brown is truly at home as Candy, having both written and produced Earth Girls Are Easy based off of one of her original songs. She went on to make a stage show version of the film as well, clips of which can be found online. Several of Brown’s songs are included in the movie, either as major musical numbers or as background music. And while her “Valley Girl” characters are a defining part of her career, underneath the 80s slang, Brown is a triple-threat of talent. It is no question that without her, Earth Girls would have lost  its fun spirit.

Valerie and Candy
Valerie and Candy

 

Being set in the Valley in the 80s, the film portrays much of the vapidness and consumerism popular at the time, with two of the film’s songs, “Brand New Girl,” and “’Cause I’m a Blonde,” focusing on changing or criticizing women’s appearances. “’Cause I’m a Blonde” is purposely satirical, however, and really serves more to make fun of the blonde “Valley Girl” stereotype than to support it. There is even a cameo from a long-forgotten social icon, Angelyne, which furthers the movie’s mocking of itself.  Angelyne, while only briefly seen, was nominated for a Raspberry Award for her performance in Earth Girls, demonstrating the underlying level of petty hatred the public had for her and the lifestyle she represented. Still, Earth Girls itself almost tries to up-play the vapidness of its characters as a parody, as if trying to get the audience to laugh at the incredulousness of their behavior, while simultaneously rooting for them. More than 20 years later, I can only guess that the film originally provided a sense of escapism to the curious. A dose of supposed “Valley life” for those on the outside.

At times the movie can feel jarring; the most notable scene being when a conversation by the pool suddenly cuts to the musical number, “’Cause I’m a Blonde.” This was done to make up for several scenes that had been dropped from the final cut, and ends up leaving certain transitions into scenes overly noticeable.

Like every cult classic, Earth Girls Are Easy isn’t without its flaws. Luckily, its charm outweighs its imperfections. And while its high-energy goofiness may not be for everyone, it nevertheless has slowly been climbing the ranks of  Cult Classics as it is rediscovered by old and new generations. If you ever need a shot of perky and fun energy, Earth Girls is the perfect film to deliver it.

 


Libby White is a self-proclaimed cinephile and Volunteer Firefighter who currently works as a Guard for Nissan’s headquarters in Tennessee.

Foreign Film Week: Realistic Depictions of Women and Female Friendship in ‘Muriel’s Wedding’

Guest post written by Libby White.
The first time I saw Muriel’s Wedding, I went in expecting a Cinderella-esque romantic comedy about an awkward girl who transforms her life into one filled with success and romance. I was definitely ready to indulge in your standard ‘feel-good chick-flick.’ Two hours later, as I sat surrounded by a pile of tissues, having cried myself into a near comatose state, I realized that Muriel’s Wedding has one of the most deceptive posters ever.
The film starts at a wedding in the small Australian town of Porpoise Spit, where we are introduced to the film’s titular character, Muriel Heslop. The wedding day is filled with disasters for Muriel: She catches the bridal bouquet and is forced to give it to another woman; she discovers the groom and the bride’s best friend fooling around; and is accused of having stolen from a local store.
As Muriel is carted home by the police, we see a glimpse of her highly dysfunctional family life. Ruled over by their tyrannical politician father, the Heslop children are a collection of deadbeats and slackers. Muriel herself hasn’t worked in over two years, and continues to live out of her childhood bedroom. Their mother, Betty Heslop, is little more than a slave to the family’s whims, and has visibly checked out from her surroundings. Attempts to communicate with her take several tries, and her brief moments of pleasure are quickly squashed by her husband.
It soon becomes apparent that Muriel’s thieving is a common occurrence, as her father handles the police with relative ease, and is able to use his power to keep them from pressing charges. Muriel waits calmly in her room as he dances the familiar steps with the officers, only to be verbally attacked in front of her father’s business guests and family later that evening. Bill Heslop seems to have no trouble belittling his family publicly, calling each of them “useless” repeatedly before being interrupted by a “surprise” visit from his obvious mistress, (an event which occurs with alarming frequency.) The night only gets worse from there, as Muriel’s so called “friends” accidentally let slip that they were going on holiday without her. The situation snowballs, leading the four women to kick Muriel out of their group.
Under the guise of travelling for a job, Muriel follows the women to an island resort, still believing that she can convince them to take her back. There, Muriel runs into an old high school classmate, Rhonda. The two women spend the rest of the vacation together, and instantly become best friends. They dance to ABBA together, they move to Sydney together, and generally bring out the best in one another. Rhonda’s support and independence also help Muriel to break out of her shell and begin living life the way she has always dreamt it. Eventually, Muriel finds herself a job at a local video store, and is asked out by a shy customer. The two date briefly, and share one of the movie’s most unforgettable and hilarious scenes when they attempt to be intimate.
Unfortunately, the good times don’t last, and Muriel is dealt a series of harsh blows by reality. With Rhonda becoming paralyzed from a spinal tumor, and Muriel’s lies becoming exposed; Muriel’s dream life begins to unravel. In a desperate attempt to break her father’s hold on her and live her dream, Muriel agrees to marry an attractive South African athlete. The man, David Van Arkle, let’s his displeasure about the arrangement be well-known, but needs to marry in order to stay in the country. When their wedding day rolls around, David looks as if he’s going to be sick. Muriel is completely oblivious however, basking in the attention of the media and her former friends. So oblivious in fact, that Muriel completely leaves out her mother from the event. In a tear-inducing scene, Betty rushes to the wedding, glowing with pride, only to have Muriel walk right past her without noticing. Still holding her daughter’s wedding gift in hand, Betty can’t help but cry as the guests dissipate.
When Muriel arrives at her new home with her husband, the fantasy of the day fades, and David accuses her of being nothing more than a gold digger. He divides their lives in half, and sends Muriel to her room alone. Soon after, Muriel receives a call from her sister, informing her that their mother has died.
Rushing home for the funeral, the house is just as Muriel left it. Her siblings laze about the living room; their father calculating the effect of Betty’s death on his political campaign. One sister is truly upset though, and confides in Muriel that their mother died of an overdose of sleeping pills. Their father, fearing his image, hid all evidence of her suicide. It is then that Muriel discovers what occurred on her wedding day, and realizes how her lies had helped to destroy her mother.
David appears at the funeral, sympathetic to his wife’s pain. The two return home together and make love, only to have Muriel ask for a divorce in the morning. She admits that her life has become a lie, and that she never felt anything for David. He agrees, and the two part ways.
In the last scene of the film, Muriel returns to Porpoise Spit, where Rhonda has had to return to her mother’s care. Forced to endure the pity of her former enemies, Muriel’s apology is readily accepted, and the two escape back to Sydney together.
And though I may have gone in expecting Hollywood’s attempt at pigeon-holing Muriel’s Wedding as a rom-com, I still came out loving this film. It takes a brutally honest look at the ripple effect of emotional abuse throughout a family, and delivers all too real characters who you can’t help but become emotionally invested in. The women of the film in particular are wonderfully refreshing, led by the endearing Toni Collette. Her portrayal of Muriel is definitely an unforgettable one. Whether it be her natural, un- glamourized looks and figure, or her very human flaws, the character of Muriel feels intensely genuine. While Hollywood films often use clumsiness to disguise the unachievable-ness of its movie’s heroines, Muriel’s Wedding instead prefers to tell it like it is. Everyone’s choices lead to consequences, and the end of the film does not mean the end to their problems.
The Muriel we are presented with in the beginning of the film; a girl who is desperate for attention, mildly delusional, and devoid of self-respect; is almost meant to be underestimated. We are shown all her worst qualities in a matter of minutes, and lead to pity her circumstances. As the movie progresses and Muriel grows, she becomes more outgoing and self-sufficient, but her lies remain. When her father threatens her new lifestyle, Muriel initially responds by entreating further into her fantasies, only to have them come crashing down upon her. Once she confesses to David and finally begins to admit the truth, we come to realize just how much Muriel has grown. Now confident and self-aware, she is able to stand up to her father’s demands and fearlessly return to her old life.
The friendship between Muriel and Rhonda is one filled with ups and downs, but is still the most genuine relationship in the film. While Rhonda becomes repeatedly frustrated with Muriel’s lies, the two are ultimately accepting of one another, and deeply loyal. Rhonda herself is a free spirit who speaks her mind and does as she pleases. She gleefully stands up to Muriel’s friends, and later takes home two men at once. Even when she receives her diagnosis, Rhonda remains determined to be independent. While she is eventually forced back into her mother’s home, she doesn’t stay long; returning to Sydney with Muriel in a matter of weeks. Rhonda’s fearless embrace of her life and choices, compared with Muriel’s sweetness and hope, make the two a perfectly balanced pair.
However, the women Muriel call her friends are the more stereotypical “mean girls.” They are portrayed as vapid, conniving, promiscuous, and cruel. Even after repeated physical and verbal attacks, Muriel invites them to be bridesmaids at her wedding, if only to show off her success at finding a famous and handsome husband. But even by the film’s end, their stunted growth remains, leaving them as flattened villains.
Muriel’s mother, Betty, is the true reason that this film breaks my heart. Having witnessed a near identical situation in my grandmother’s life, the inclusion of her storyline is especially meaningful. At no point does the director show her any kindness; from her husband’s blatant affair, her children’s indolence, being accused of shoplifting, to Muriel’s own snubbing of her; Betty endured a terrible existence. Spoiled by the happy endings of American cinema, I had internally begged for a magical fix to her suffering; some kind of ‘hallelujah’ moment where we were assured everything would be alright.
When Betty eventually suffers an emotional break down and commits suicide, it is only Muriel and her sister who show any concern whatsoever. The other siblings are completely unaffected; the youngest girl gossiping on the phone with her friends the morning after her mother’s death. Bill Heslop, who selfishly tries to cover up his wife’s cause of death and his part in causing it, uses the sympathy of the press to further his career.
Betty’s story is one that never allows the viewer any release. Instead, it speaks of a harsh reality where there is no sudden intervention of fate, moments of enlightenment, or redeemable villains. We never get to see Bill Heslop punished for his cruelty, or Betty rewarded for her love for her children. And it is because of such that I think Betty Heslop is a fantastic female character. While she may not be the empowered woman who takes back her life from an abusive husband, she is a real woman, with real emotions, and a painfully real situation.
In the end, whether you’re interested in a good laugh, cry, or simply want to watch wonderful film, I highly recommend Muriel’s Wedding to you. Its realistic portrayal of women and their emotional experiences make it a gem in anyone’s collection.
———- 
Libby White is a self-proclaimed cinephile and Volunteer Firefighter who currently works as an Armed Guard for Nissan’s headquarters in Tennessee.

Gender & Food Week: ‘James and the Giant Peach’

James and the Giant Peach
This guest post written by Libby White previously appeared at Bitch Flicks as part of our series on Animated Children’s Films and our series on Women and Gender in Musicals.

Based on the book by Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach has been a favorite movie of mine since childhood. After all, what kid wouldn’t love a cast of singing and dancing insects?
(Before I go into a review of the movie, I must state that I have never read the book, and do not know how closely the movie follows. Any comments I make are on the film alone, not the book.)
Directed by Henry Selick, the story revolves around a boy named James, who after the death of both parents, ends up a slave to his two cruel aunts, Sponge and Spiker. After an encounter with a strange man promising him “marvelous things,” James receives a bag of magical sprites, (crocodile tongues boiled in the skull of a dead witch for 40 days and 40 nights, the gizzard of a pig, the fingers of a young monkey, the beak of a parrot and three spoonfuls of sugar to be exact),  that inadvertently end up planting themselves within a barren peach tree. An enormous peach sprouts from the tree at contact,  which James later escapes into, turning into a claymation version of himself. Alongside a band of personified insects, the group sail across the ocean on the peach, encountering various trials as they head towards their destination in New York City.
The aunts, Sponge and Spiker, are two of the worst people to ever grace the silver screen, with their terrible abuse of young James setting the stage for the adventure ahead. They serve as the main antagonists of the story, chasing James across land and sea to recapture him.
The Aunts are horrific caretakers; starving, beating, and emotionally abusing James relentlessly. Mind you, this is a movie for children. And like in most children’s movies, the Aunts’ outward appearance reflects their inner evil. Both women are made to look terrifyingly cruel and yet simultaneously clown-like, dressed in orange-red wigs and slathered on make-up. During their first 20 minutes on screen, the two women participate in dozens of morally reprehensible practices, everything from shameless vanity to verbally attacking a woman and her children.
The fact that the villains are female does not bother me, nor that they are portrayed as greedy, selfish people. After all, women are just as capable as men of committing child abuse. However, while the style of the movie is very dark and Tim Burton-esque, I can’t help but wish that the Aunts’ appearances were not related to their evil.  Too often in the world of children’s movies a villain need only be identified by their ugly appearance, as if that is a symptom of inner ugliness. Just look at most Disney movies from the past century!
The women’s abuse of James was also very dramatic and purposeful, most likely so that the children watching the movie could understand James’ need for immediate escape. The film could have used the Aunts as an opportunity to delve into the other types of child-abuse, but instead meant to focus on the strong atmosphere of fantastical adventure. (With a story that involves death by Rhinoceros, skeleton pirates, and mechanical sharks, it is easy to understand why the people themselves are wildly unrealistic. The world itself is wildly unrealistic.) 
Transformed by the sprites themselves, James finds a group man-sized insects living within the giant peach, each with a unique personality that relates to their species. There is a smart, cultured grasshopper; a kind, nurturing ladybug; a rough-talking, comedic centipede; a neurotic, blind earthworm; a poetic, intelligent spider; and a deaf, elderly glowworm.
The spider, glowworm, and ladybug are all female, each very different and yet immensely likeable. It’s great to see several types of female personalities represented, though perhaps they are a little clichéd. Miss Spider is the typical sensual seductress, the Ladybug a doting mother-figure. The glow-worm has no real part except serving as a lantern inside the peach, and occasionally mishearing a phrase for laughs.
James: “The man said marvelous things would happen!”
Glowworm: “Did you say marvelous pigs in satin?”
Miss Spider in particular is a great female character; strong, smart, and willing to stand up for herself and those she cares about. Despite her reputation as a killer and cave-dweller, she repeatedly defends James and wards off the assumptions the other insects have made-about her.  From the moment she is introduced in her personified form, you can’t help but like her. She doesn’t take anyone’s crap.
Ladybug comes off as an older, traditional woman, complete with a flowered hat and overfilled purse. She is kindly, though strict about manners and being polite. When describing what each bug hopes to find in New York City, Ladybug is most concerned with seeing flowers and children. And while Ladybug does resemble an Aunt of mine to disturbing proportions, I felt like she had no purpose in the story other than to serve as James’ replacement mother/grandmother. While the other insects are having swashbuckling adventures and near death experiences, Ladybug is just scenery, screaming and cheering in the correct places. Which is odd, because every insect has a large amount of screen time devoted to their stories and transformation, minus the glowworm and ladybug. Both female characters. In the end, it was James, Miss Spider, Centipede, Earthworm, and Grasshopper who repeatedly saved the day. Ladybug was just there to reassure James of himself whenever fear or doubt overtook him.

Despite this unfortunate exclusion, I still would highly recommend the film to anyone who is interested. It is visually stunning, undoubtedly original, and teaches a lesson about family that is quite touching.
From a feminist perspective, my favorite thing about the film is that it doesn’t pay any attention to sex at all. At no point are the Aunts’ criticized for being a disappointment to the name of maternal women. At no point is Miss Spider treated differently because she is female. No, almost every character has an inner and outer struggle, each reaching a defining moment in the plot where they must test themselves to save those they love. Together, the insects and James form a makeshift family, each working equally with one another to build a happy life in their new home. (And the boy who plays James is too cute for words, all his emotions and inner growth come off as genuine. You can’t help but cheer for him as he finally stands up to his aunts.)
Overall, James and the Giant Peach is an excellent movie, and I would suggest it to any parent or person who likes stories of adventure and fantasy. Any warnings I would give would refer only to the dark nature of the beginning of the film, and to any people who may be afraid of giant, rampaging rhinoceroses.
———-
Libby White is a senior at the University of Tennessee, studying Marketing and Spanish full-time. Her parents were in the Navy for most of her life, so she got to see the world at a young age, and learn about cultures outside her own. Her mother in particular has had a huge influence on her, as she was a woman in the military at a time when men dominated the field. Her determination and hard-work to survive in an environment where she was not welcomed has made Libby respect the constant struggle of women today.

Horror Week 2012: Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

This is a guest post from Libby White
I’m going to be honest, I chose Behind the Mask because of an instant love that came from my first viewing of it two years ago. As an admitted horror movie junkie, I mourned the end of the reigns of Michael and Jason, Chucky and Pinhead. The old days of seemingly immortal killers with a penchant for hacking up horny teens were long gone, and in their place, we had “torture porn” like Saw, Hostel, and The Devil’s Rejects. But then came Leslie Vernon into my life. 
Warning: This review contains spoilers. If you have not seen the film, I suggest watching it before I ruin the plot for you. It’s so much better when experienced firsthand. 
The plot of Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon takes place over two very distinct parts. For the first half of the film, we have a comedic documentary which gives tribute the infamous killers we love and know, revealing their “secrets” and all the work it takes behind the scenes to be an apt killer. Led by a naïve young intern, a local TV news crew is sent to document the activities of a budding serial killer, Leslie Vernon. In a world where Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Krueger are living legends; serial killing has become a well honed art form. And under the guidance of Eugene, a former serial killer himself, Leslie adopts a macabre back-story for himself, and begins to meticulously arrange every little detail of his future killing spree. From picking the perfect location for a massacre, to his final “survivor girl,” we are able to get a sense of how difficult it is to do a serial killer’s work. 
During the second part of the film, we get our real horror film. 
In a somewhat surprising twist, it is revealed that Leslie’s real target was Taylor, the intern, and her crew all along. Knowing that she would not be able to stand by and watch as a group of teens was cut down, Leslie counted on her interference with the original plan to set in motion his real motive. Sweet and virginal, Taylor is the epitome of the horror movie heroine. And when it comes time to fight for her life, she doesn’t disappoint. One by one the characters are hacked off, leaving Taylor to battle it out with the gone psychotic Leslie Vernon. 
And while my confession at the start of this remains the same, upon closer inspection, I realized that Leslie Vernon’s treatment of women is left to be desired. While there is a lot of discussion about empowering the survivor girl to become a strong woman, it is described from a mocking male’s perspective. One scene in particular especially rubbing me the wrong way, in which Leslie discusses with Taylor how the faux survivor girl, Kelly, will imminently end up at an old shed to find a weapon. He describes her choice of weapon as “empowering herself with cock.” The axes, sledgehammers, and other long handled devices purposely phallic. 
Leslie: “She’ll be taking my manhood, and empowering herself with it.” 
Taylor is visibly uncomfortable with the conversation, but Leslie persists, going full out monologue on the relation of women to horror. 
While a lot of this ongoing discussion provides interesting insight into the symbolism in horror films, Leslie’s narrative can’t help but seem like total BS. And that’s the point. The first 2/3 of the film is treated as a joke by the interviewers, (minus one or two emotionally intense moments), until the cold reality of what they are participating in hits them. While Taylor, Todd, and Doug are somewhat uncomfortable by all this talk of murder, they are obviously detached from the real truth of the matter. Only when they realize that they have been the targets all along do the crew truly become invested in the outcome of Leslie Vernon’s plan for infamy. But Leslie’s wording doesn’t help either. 
Leslie: “Yonic imagery is extremely important in our work.” 
Taylor: “Yonic?” 
Leslie: “The opposite of phallic. Bit girl parts.” 
There is also a lot of mention of virginity, and why it is all final horror movie girls are “obviously” virgins. The word “pure,” and “good” thrown around quite a bit. Leslie justifies what he is doing as a way of balancing out the good and evil in the world; that he, Eugene, and the other serial killers have chosen to fulfill a role that society doesn’t like to acknowledge needs filling. The need for a virgin for the incident to revolve around is supposedly their way of pitting good against evil. And believe it or not, the serial killers are rooting for this girl. Leslie repeatedly states throughout the movie that he has high hopes for “Kelly,” and feels he is watching a glorious thing as she makes her transition from frightened girl to “empowered woman.” But in other scenes, virginity is treated as a joke, the wife of Eugene telling the crew to “get someone in her pants,” or “get the hell away from her,” if they ever want to survive a massacre. 
This perpetuation of the idea that women are only “pure”, or good, when they are virgins is incredibly harmful. But even more so given the context of the film. After all, it is only virgins who get to live. So now a woman’s sex life is determining whether or not she is worthy to live? And pity the male characters, who are doomed to die no matter what. 
And while I know that the film is merely mocking its famous predecessors, it felt as if the writers of Leslie Vernon wanted to have an honest discussion on the matter, but got scared away, and decided to fill in the blanks with a less-serious male narrated version. 
Still, I do give the film some props for trying. In their attempts to explore the female focus of horror movies, they unintentionally misstep. With a background character that constantly cracks smart-ass remarks at Taylor, and a gratuitous close up of breasts being fondled; Leslie Vernon’s feminism isn’t all it appears to be. 
Taylor, the film’s heroine, and true “survivor girl,” is an excellent female character, however. She is neither purely innocent, nor totally timid. She is given more than one chance to wash her hands of the matter or turn Leslie in, but doesn’t. But as per Leslie’s expectations, she continuously grows throughout the film, eventually fulfilling the destiny of “empowered woman.” 
From the very start of the film, you can feel her discomfort with the plan and her own inner insecurity. She constantly questions Leslie’s justification for murder, eventually working up the courage to get into a full blown battle with him about it. On the night of the planned killings, you can see that Taylor has just about had enough. By the time she interferes, and later battles for her life, she hardly resembles the girl we started with. 
Pushed to the edge, Taylor fearlessly takes on Leslie alone, and (seemingly) wins. 
Outside of Taylor, there are very few other female characters. We have the wife of Leslie’s mentor, a murdered librarian, (played by the lovely Zelda Rubinstein), and Kelly. Unfortunately, none of these women qualify as more than background characters; Kelly, the supposed lead, killed off mid-coatis at the start of the slaughter. 
In the end, I still like Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon. While it will never be a great feminist work, the plot, characters, and twists make it a fun watch. Anyone who grew up on the classic 70’s and 80’s slashers will be able to watch the cameos and obscure references with glee, and imagine a world in which the most well-known movie serial killers of all time actually make a living off their killings. 
Happy Halloween!
Libby White is a senior at the University of Tennessee, studying Marketing and Spanish full-time. Her parents were in the Navy for most of her life, so she got to see the world at a young age, and learn about cultures outside her own. Her mother in particular has had a huge influence on her, as she was a woman in the military at a time when men dominated the field. Her determination and hard-work to survive in an environment where she was not welcomed has made Libby respect the constant struggle of women today.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: James and the Giant Peach

This review by Libby White previously appeared at Bitch Flicks as part of our series on Animated Children’s Films

Based on the book by Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach has been a favorite movie of mine since childhood. After all, what kid wouldn’t love a cast of singing and dancing insects?
(Before I go into a review of the movie, I must state that I have never read the book, and do not know how closely the movie follows. Any comments I make are on the film alone, not the book.)
Directed by Henry Selick, the story revolves around a boy named James, who after the death of both parents, ends up a slave to his two cruel aunts, Sponge and Spiker. After an encounter with a strange man promising him “marvelous things,” James receives a bag of magical sprites, (crocodile tongues boiled in the skull of a dead witch for 40 days and 40 nights, the gizzard of a pig, the fingers of a young monkey, the beak of a parrot and three spoonfuls of sugar to be exact),  that inadvertently end up planting themselves within a barren peach tree. An enormous peach sprouts from the tree at contact,  which James later escapes into, turning into a claymation version of himself. Alongside a band of personified insects, the group sail across the ocean on the peach, encountering various trials as they head towards their destination in New York City.
The aunts, Sponge and Spiker, are two of the worst people to ever grace the silver screen, with their terrible abuse of young James setting the stage for the adventure ahead. They serve as the main antagonists of the story, chasing James across land and sea to recapture him.
The Aunts are horrific caretakers; starving, beating, and emotionally abusing James relentlessly. Mind you, this is a movie for children. And like in most children’s movies, the Aunts’ outward appearance reflects their inner evil. Both women are made to look terrifyingly cruel and yet simultaneously clown-like, dressed in orange-red wigs and slathered on make-up. During their first 20 minutes on screen, the two women participate in dozens of morally reprehensible practices, everything from shameless vanity to verbally attacking a woman and her children.
The fact that the villains are female does not bother me, nor that they are portrayed as greedy, selfish people. After all, women are just as capable as men of committing child abuse. However, while the style of the movie is very dark and Tim Burton-esque, I can’t help but wish that the Aunts’ appearances were not related to their evil.  Too often in the world of children’s movies a villain need only be identified by their ugly appearance, as if that is a symptom of inner ugliness. Just look at most Disney movies from the past century!
The women’s abuse of James was also very dramatic and purposeful, most likely so that the children watching the movie could understand James’ need for immediate escape. The film could have used the Aunts as an opportunity to delve into the other types of child-abuse, but instead meant to focus on the strong atmosphere of fantastical adventure. (With a story that involves death by Rhinoceros, skeleton pirates, and mechanical sharks, it is easy to understand why the people themselves are wildly unrealistic. The world itself is wildly unrealistic.) 
Transformed by the sprites themselves, James finds a group man-sized insects living within the giant peach, each with a unique personality that relates to their species. There is a smart, cultured grasshopper; a kind, nurturing ladybug; a rough-talking, comedic centipede; a neurotic, blind earthworm; a poetic, intelligent spider; and a deaf, elderly glowworm.
The spider, glowworm, and ladybug are all female, each very different and yet immensely likeable. It’s great to see several types of female personalities represented, though perhaps they are a little clichéd. Miss Spider is the typical sensual seductress, the Ladybug a doting mother-figure. The glow-worm has no real part except serving as a lantern inside the peach, and occasionally mishearing a phrase for laughs.
James: “The man said marvelous things would happen!”
Glowworm: “Did you say marvelous pigs in satin?”
Miss Spider in particular is a great female character; strong, smart, and willing to stand up for herself and those she cares about. Despite her reputation as a killer and cave-dweller, she repeatedly defends James and wards off the assumptions the other insects have made-about her.  From the moment she is introduced in her personified form, you can’t help but like her. She doesn’t take anyone’s crap.
Ladybug comes off as an older, traditional woman, complete with a flowered hat and overfilled purse. She is kindly, though strict about manners and being polite. When describing what each bug hopes to find in New York City, Ladybug is most concerned with seeing flowers and children. And while Ladybug does resemble an Aunt of mine to disturbing proportions, I felt like she had no purpose in the story other than to serve as James’ replacement mother/grandmother. While the other insects are having swashbuckling adventures and near death experiences, Ladybug is just scenery, screaming and cheering in the correct places. Which is odd, because every insect has a large amount of screen time devoted to their stories and transformation, minus the glowworm and ladybug. Both female characters. In the end, it was James, Miss Spider, Centipede, Earthworm, and Grasshopper who repeatedly saved the day. Ladybug was just there to reassure James of himself whenever fear or doubt overtook him.

Despite this unfortunate exclusion, I still would highly recommend the film to anyone who is interested. It is visually stunning, undoubtedly original, and teaches a lesson about family that is quite touching.
From a feminist perspective, my favorite thing about the film is that it doesn’t pay any attention to sex at all. At no point are the Aunts’ criticized for being a disappointment to the name of maternal women. At no point is Miss Spider treated differently because she is female. No, almost every character has an inner and outer struggle, each reaching a defining moment in the plot where they must test themselves to save those they love. Together, the insects and James form a makeshift family, each working equally with one another to build a happy life in their new home. (And the boy who plays James is too cute for words, all his emotions and inner growth come off as genuine. You can’t help but cheer for him as he finally stands up to his aunts.)
Overall, James and the Giant Peach is an excellent movie, and I would suggest it to any parent or person who likes stories of adventure and fantasy. Any warnings I would give would refer only to the dark nature of the beginning of the film, and to any people who may be afraid of giant, rampaging rhinoceroses.

———-

Libby White is a senior at the University of Tennessee, studying Marketing and Spanish full-time. Her parents were in the Navy for most of her life, so she got to see the world at a young age, and learn about cultures outside her own. Her mother in particular has had a huge influence on her, as she was a woman in the military at a time when men dominated the field. Her determination and hard-work to survive in an environment where she was not welcomed has made Libby respect the constant struggle of women today.

Animated Children’s Films: James and the Giant Peach

Based on the book by Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach has been a favorite movie of mine since childhood. After all, what kid wouldn’t love a cast of singing and dancing insects?
(Before I go into a review of the movie, I must state that I have never read the book, and do not know how closely the movie follows. Any comments I make are on the film alone, not the book.)
Directed by Henry Selick, the story revolves around a boy named James, who after the death of both parents, ends up a slave to his two cruel aunts, Sponge and Spiker. After an encounter with a strange man promising him “marvelous things,” James receives a bag of magical sprites, (crocodile tongues boiled in the skull of a dead witch for 40 days and 40 nights, the gizzard of a pig, the fingers of a young monkey, the beak of a parrot and three spoonfuls of sugar to be exact),  that inadvertently end up planting themselves within a barren peach tree. An enormous peach sprouts from the tree at contact,  which James later escapes into, turning into a claymation version of himself. Alongside a band of personified insects, the group sail across the ocean on the peach, encountering various trials as they head towards their destination in New York City.
The aunts, Sponge and Spiker, are two of the worst people to ever grace the silver screen, with their terrible abuse of young James setting the stage for the adventure ahead. They serve as the main antagonists of the story, chasing James across land and sea to recapture him.

The Aunts are horrific caretakers; starving, beating, and emotionally abusing James relentlessly. Mind you, this is a movie for children. And like in most children’s movies, the Aunts’ outward appearance reflects their inner evil. Both women are made to look terrifyingly cruel and yet simultaneously clown-like, dressed in orange-red wigs and slathered on make-up. During their first 20 minutes on screen, the two women participate in dozens of morally reprehensible practices, everything from shameless vanity to verbally attacking a woman and her children.
The fact that the villains are female does not bother me, nor that they are portrayed as greedy, selfish people. After all, women are just as capable as men of committing child abuse. However, while the style of the movie is very dark and Tim Burton-esque, I can’t help but wish that the Aunts’ appearances were not related to their evil.  Too often in the world of children’s movies a villain need only be identified by their ugly appearance, as if that is a symptom of inner ugliness. Just look at most Disney movies from the past century!
The women’s abuse of James was also very dramatic and purposeful, most likely so that the children watching the movie could understand James’ need for immediate escape. The film could have used the Aunts as an opportunity to delve into the other types of child-abuse, but instead meant to focus on the strong atmosphere of fantastical adventure. (With a story that involves death by Rhinoceros, skeleton pirates, and mechanical sharks, it is easy to understand why the people themselves are wildly unrealistic. The world itself is wildly unrealistic.) 
Transformed by the sprites themselves, James finds a group man-sized insects living within the giant peach, each with a unique personality that relates to their species. There is a smart, cultured grasshopper; a kind, nurturing ladybug; a rough-talking, comedic centipede; a neurotic, blind earthworm; a poetic, intelligent spider; and a deaf, elderly glowworm.
The spider, glowworm, and ladybug are all female, each very different and yet immensely likeable. It’s great to see several types of female personalities represented, though perhaps they are a little clichéd. Miss Spider is the typical sensual seductress, the Ladybug a doting mother-figure. The glow-worm has no real part except serving as a lantern inside the peach, and occasionally mishearing a phrase for laughs.
James: “The man said marvelous things would happen!”
Glowworm: “Did you say marvelous pigs in satin?”
Miss Spider in particular is a great female character; strong, smart, and willing to stand up for herself and those she cares about. Despite her reputation as a killer and cave-dweller, she repeatedly defends James and wards off the assumptions the other insects have made-about her.  From the moment she is introduced in her personified form, you can’t help but like her. She doesn’t take anyone’s crap.
Ladybug comes off as an older, traditional woman, complete with a flowered hat and overfilled purse. She is kindly, though strict about manners and being polite. When describing what each bug hopes to find in New York City, Ladybug is most concerned with seeing flowers and children. And while Ladybug does resemble an Aunt of mine to disturbing proportions, I felt like she had no purpose in the story other than to serve as James’ replacement mother/grandmother. While the other insects are having swashbuckling adventures and near death experiences, Ladybug is just scenery, screaming and cheering in the correct places. Which is odd, because every insect has a large amount of screen time devoted to their stories and transformation, minus the glowworm and ladybug. Both female characters. In the end, it was James, Miss Spider, Centipede, Earthworm, and Grasshopper who repeatedly saved the day. Ladybug was just there to reassure James of himself whenever fear or doubt overtook him.

Despite this unfortunate exclusion, I still would highly recommend the film to anyone who is interested. It is visually stunning, undoubtedly original, and teaches a lesson about family that is quite touching.
From a feminist perspective, my favorite thing about the film is that it doesn’t pay any attention to sex at all. At no point are the Aunts’ criticized for being a disappointment to the name of maternal women. At no point is Miss Spider treated differently because she is female. No, almost every character has an inner and outer struggle, each reaching a defining moment in the plot where they must test themselves to save those they love. Together, the insects and James form a makeshift family, each working equally with one another to build a happy life in their new home. (And the boy who plays James is too cute for words, all his emotions and inner growth come off as genuine. You can’t help but cheer for him as he finally stands up to his aunts.)
Overall, James and the Giant Peach is an excellent movie, and I would suggest it to any parent or person who likes stories of adventure and fantasy. Any warnings I would give would refer only to the dark nature of the beginning of the film, and to any people who may be afraid of giant, rampaging rhinoceroses.

Libby White is a senior at the University of Tennessee, studying Marketing and Spanish full-time. Her parents were in the Navy for most of her life, so she got to see the world at a young age, and learn about cultures outside her own. Her mother in particular has had a huge influence on her, as she was a woman in the military at a time when men dominated the field. Her determination and hard-work to survive in an environment where she was not welcomed has made Libby respect the constant struggle of women today.