Maggie Gyllenhaal – Bitch Flicks

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Check out what we’ve been reading this week–and let us know what you’ve been reading/writing in the comments!

Visual Pleasure at 40: Laura Mulvey in discussion at BFI

My reaction to Mad Max: Fury Road and the Utter Perfection That is Imperator Furiosa at nospockdasgay

Jill Soloway to female filmmakers: ‘Let’s storm the gates’ by Katie Hast at HitFlix

Shonda Rhimes and Jenji Kohan Honored at 2015 Global Women’s Rights Awards at Ms. blog

85 Films By and About Women of Color, Courtesy of Ava DuVernay and the Good People of Twitter by jai tiggett at Women and Hollywood

The Best Thing About “Tomorrowland” Is the Spunky Teen Girl Genius by Sarah Mirk at Bitch Media

Maggie Gyllenhaal: At 37 I was ‘too old’ for role opposite 55-year-old man by Ben Child at The Guardian

‘Girlhood’ Is Now Streaming on Netflix. We Spoke to the Director About Race, Gender & the Universality of the Story by Zeba Blay at Shadow and Act

Do you stand for gender equality in the film and television industry? (Petition) at ACLU

Cannes: Salma Hayek Talks Sexism in Hollywood at ‘Women in Motion’ Panel by Tatiana Siegel at The Hollywood Reporter

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Love Isn’t Always Soft and Gentle: Female Sexual Desire in ‘Secretary’

Sex and sexuality are complicated, whether we believe it or not. Most of us have experienced some type of same-sex attraction or participated in some kinky activity in the bedroom. Movies often help us to make sense of these feelings and experiences. However, too often, female sexual pleasure and arousal are still deemed unfit for viewing by mainstream film and television. America has a bipolar and hypocritical relationship with female sexuality. Our culture consumes copious amounts of porn and then doesn’t hesitate to slut-shame the women who create and act in pornographic films. Is this because pornography can be seen as objectifying women, while mainstream film humanizes them? Why does the marriage of sexuality and human intimacy feel so dangerous?

Written by Jenny Lapekas as part of our theme week on Representations of Female Sexual Desire.

The depiction of female sexuality and sexual desire in the offbeat romance, Secretary (Steven Shainberg, 2002), is central to its themes of dominance and submission. Lee (Maggie Gyllenhaal) can be read as “sexually uncontrollable” by some viewers and critics, but her sexuality complements Mr. Grey’s (James Spader), which is structured and contained. Lee finds she cannot be sexually aroused or satisfied by the traditional man she’s set to marry; not only is their sex centered on his laughable spasms on top of her, Lee can’t even pleasure herself while his photo sits by her bedside. We may say that he’s so bad in bed, he interferes with Lee’s orgasms even when absent.

Lee has just been released from a mental hospital, and she struggles to gain some independence as she moves back in with a hovering mother and a drunk father. Among her masochistic tools, we find a hot tea kettle and the sharpened foot of a ballerina figurine, a rather melodramatic image as she sits in a bedroom that is reminiscent of early girlhood, rather than that of a 20-something young woman. It’s no mistake that Gyllenhaal’s character has an androgynous name; when we meet her, she is not sexually realized, and the way the camera maneuvers around her small frame and conservative clothing communicates this very clearly.

Lee is giddy over her new title of “secretary.”

When Mr. Grey (50 Shades, anyone?) is “interviewing” Lee, he forwardly observes, “You’re closed tight.” Lee is so willing to do anything and everything Mr. Grey tells her that he cures her of her cutting simply by telling her that she is never to do it again. We may be tempted to label Mr. Grey rude or offensive, but his character is much more complicated than that, and Lee depends on his behavior to further develop throughout the film. He is seemingly cruel as he explains that her only tasks are typing and answering the phone, and yet she is incompetent since she routinely makes spelling errors and answers the phone without gusto. Lee wants desperately to please Mr. Grey. The film contains two masturbation scenes where we watch Lee climax at the memory of doing exactly as Mr. Grey tells her. Considering some of the recent controversy surrounding the censorship of female sexual pleasure on television, it feels daring and refreshing to find these scenes in a film. Gyllenhaal has also received criticism for playing the love interest in The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008) since viewers find her “cute,” and not “sexy” enough to take on such a role, which makes her portrayal of a sexually adventurous young woman all the more empowering.

Lee looks like a little girl playing dress-up as we watch her apply the eyeshadow anther woman at work leaves in the bathroom.

While Lee is shown to be a sexually submissive woman–parallel to the sexually dominant Grey–she discovers her own agency as she blossoms into a more complete person. She dramatically leaves her fiancé, Peter, and, while wearing her wedding dress, professes her love to Mr. Grey. She also slaps Mr. Grey across the face as he fires her and successfully fights off Peter when he interrupts her sit-in. Although Lee gets off on being subservient, she makes it clear that she isn’t afraid to let others know what she wants outside the bedroom; Lee literally runs to Mr. Grey and then screams at Peter to get out. Paradoxically, Lee’s emergence as a “submissive” accompanies the forming of her newfound independence.

Upon doing what she's told, Mr. Grey asks Lee if she's afraid he's going to fuck her. — Upon doing what she’s told, Mr. Grey asks Lee if she’s afraid he’s going to fuck her.

What this film shows us is that sexual submission is a legitimate practice of men and women alike. During Lee’s “sit-in,” we even see a women’s rights scholar (most likely a local graduate student) visit her to lecture about her apparently anti-feminist choice to obey Mr. Grey by sitting and waiting for his return. I think it’s unwise to dismiss Lee’s portrayal of a “sexual submissive” as inaccurate or ineffective since this is not an archetype we see very often on the silver screen. This film is subversive, transgressive, and feminist in its message, its imagery, and its challenging the popular belief that feminist sexuality is a one-size-fits-all cloak we all quibble over and clamber into when it’s time to play academic dress-up. We watch Lee masturbate, fall in love, and cure an alienated man of his debilitating need for space and order, so I think it’s safe to say that the more Lee embraces her desire to be dominated, the more she controls the events of her own life and discovers agency.

Mr. Grey finally admits he loves Lee by undressing her and bathing her.

The desire to be told what to do or to obtain permission to do particular activities is undoubtedly linked to sexual arousal and gratification in both men and women. Although Lee is sexually submissive, she alone pushes Mr. Grey out of his toxic bubble of isolation and shame; she declares her love for the brooding lawyer and kindly informs him that they are a match and can be themselves, together, every day, without embarrassment that their sexual preferences may be considered perverted or taboo by the dreaded status quo.

While this brand of complex female sexuality may not be readily understood by most, it would be reductionist to dismiss Secretary as a misogynistic film, especially when Gyllenhaal’s performance reflects a multi-layered persona and a powerful sexual identity that remains obscure in mainstream cinema. Lee finds sexual agency, and we stand by to watch and enjoy the pleasure she finds, along with the man who becomes her husband. The binary of dominance and submission, along with its negotiation of sexual boundaries, is what makes Secretary work.

Recommended reading: Thinking Kink: Secretary and the Female Submissive

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Jenny has a Master of Arts degree in English, and she is a part-time instructor at Alvernia University. Her areas of scholarship include women’s literature, menstrual literacy, and rape-revenge cinema. You can find her on WordPress and Pinterest.

The Women of ‘White House Down’

Written by Robin Hitchcock

Channing Tatum, Jamie Foxx, and a billion other dudes in White House Down.
I swear there are chicks, though.

Even though I’m running into the risk of painting myself into a month of themed posts about the women in dumb-but-entertaining movies about ‘MERICA, I have to write about the few, the proud, the women characters in White House Down. [Mostly because it is the only movie I’ve seen in the past week.]

White House Down has very few women on screen, and most of those (including the FIRST LADY) have no characterization and hardly any dialogue. Only three remain–and one is a one-scene wonder–but I still lapped up these scant offerings. [Unfortunately, I must admit my standards can get pretty low during summer movie season.]

A quick plot overview just to get you oriented: White House Down features terrorists taking control of ~~Nakatomi Plaza~~ the White House as part of an elaborate plot with a muddled endgame. But the bad guys didn’t count on ~~John McClane~~ John Cale, an under appreciated law-enforcement tough guy who was ~~just there for the Christmas Party~~ just there for a job interview. And this time it’s personal: our hero’s ~~estranged wife~~ tween daughter is one of the hostages.

Now on to the lady parts:

Special Agent Carol Finnerty (Maggie Gyllenhaal)

Carol Finnerty (Maggie Gyllenhaal)

Carol Finnerty is a character that could have gone horribly wrong in less skilled hands than Maggie Gyllenhaal’s. A top-ranking member of the President’s Secret Service detail, she’s one of those movie characters who is good at her job AND good-hearted AND beloved by all who know her (including the president)… and devoid of any depth. But Gyllenhaal plays to every square inch of this limited character and then some. When Finnerty must go head-to-head with military brass while responding to the crisis, tropes about women in power struggles abound: she’s more easily dismissed by the male military authority because she is a woman, but she also flashes a smile and “please help me eyes” at a male mark to get what she needs anyway. This might have annoyed me A LOT more if a less genuine actress were in the role. Gyllenhaal made it clear that flirting was a last-resort method, but one she was nevertheless willing to employ to save the life of the president.

Muriel Walker (Barbara Williams)

No images of this character or actress exist so I’m taking the Ms. Pac-Man approach.

You know that scene in these movies where the marginally-sympathetic bad guy’s wife is called in to talk him down from his evil plot? That scene happens in White House Down. But [spoiler alert] when Muriel Walker takes that call, it doesn’t go the way it normally does. This woman, already stunned by the terrorist attack unfolding around her, is told her husband is behind all of it. She’s clearly devastated. But when she gets him on the phone, and he explains he’s doing this to avenge the death of their son (killed in a failed black op authorized by the president), she incredulously asks, “You’re doing this for Kevin?” And I’m thinking, “Yeah, sister, it doesn’t make sense to me either.” But then her face sours and she awesomely says, “Then you do whatever it takes. You make them pay for what they did to our boy.” WHAT!? Look, this one line of dialogue does not a good female character make. But it was maybe THE ONLY surprising thing that happened in this entire movie, and I have to give them props for that. Muriel is led away with Finnerty swearing she’ll have her prosecuted to the full extent of the law and is never heard from again in this movie. But I gotta say I’d be addicted to the cable news coverage of THAT trial.

Emily Cale (Joey King)

Emily Cale (Joey King)

The hero’s aforementioned tween daughter, Emily, starts out as a sullen brat glued to her cell phone. But then she’s told she’s going to the White House so her dad can interview to join the Secret Service, and she starts overflowing with America Joy. And facts! So many facts she annoys her tour guide because she keeps stealing his lines. At this point I have to recuse myself from fairly judging this character. Emily Cale is basically everything I wanted to be as a child. Scratch that, she’s everything I want to be as an adult. And on top of the adorable know-it-all-ness, she’s brave and clever! She surreptitiously records video of the terrorists and uploads it to her YouTube channel, providing the good guys with vital intelligence. Her pint-sized badassery continues [More spoilers! Do you care?] when the main villain tries to get the President to nuke basically the whole planet by holding a gun to her head, and the President is like, “Sorry, kiddo, I like you and everything but not more than billions of innocent people,” and she’s ENTIRELY on board for this heroic sacrifice. She’s pretty much like, “Please don’t feel guilty for watching me get murdered in cold blood in your Oval Office, Mr. President.” And then she saves the president’s life and the White House itself with a flag twirling routine. Seriously. Like I said, I’m well past the point of nuanced feminist analysis here, but… EMILY CALE FOR PRESIDENT!

In sum, while White House Down isn’t really doing any favors for the sisterhood, I’m happy that its marginalized and one-dimensional female characters are at least one-dimensionally awesome. There are a lot of flaws in White House Down I had to overlook to enjoy the heck out of it, and the women weren’t even close to the top of the list. /faint praise out!

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who has never helped save the world with an upload to her YouTube channel … yet.

‘Away We Go’: Infertility and the Indie Film

Movie poster for Away We Go

This is a guest post by LD Anderson and appears as part of our theme week on Infertility, Miscarriage, and Infant Loss.

Away We Go (2009) was part of a spate movies a few years ago that were marketed as “Indie”—with hand-drawn title cards and twee soundtracks—regardless of the film’s studio or budget or anything else. When I finally watched it on DVD, having missed it in the theater, I was disappointed. One of the main reasons was how it treated the issues of infertility and miscarriage, but I’ll get to that.

John Krasinski (The Office) and Maya Rudolph (Saturday Night Live) play Burt and Verona, a struggling thirty-something couple who unexpectedly find themselves pregnant. Verona’s parents are dead, so when Burt’s parents announce that they’re leaving the country, Burt and Verona hit the road to visit friends in search of a chosen family for their child.

Burt and Verona

There are a few things that I like a lot about this movie, and I want to address those first. I liked the fact that Burt and Verona are an interracial couple. I appreciate the way that the movie takes the idea of chosen family so seriously. I liked the relationship between Burt and Verona, and the approach to parenting that they formulate, both informed by and different from everyone around them.

It’s everyone around them that bugs me.

In an early scene, Burt’s father—the one who’s about to bail on his first grandchild—talks to Verona about a sculpture he bought of a Native American woman. He’s not sure whether it’s Pocahontas or not, but he wants to honor indigenous people—even if he can’t pronounce “indigenous.” Later on, Burt and Verona spend time with Burt’s childhood friend, “LN,” and her husband, who practice Continuum parenting, which is a thinly veiled reference to Attachment Parenting. I’m not going to weigh in on Attachment Parenting here, but suffice it to say that it’s not portrayed positively in Away We Go. LN, however, also quotes from Alice Walker and Simone de Beauvoir.

Roderick, LN, and Bailey

Between the two scenes, the message seems to be that only the ignorant, the insincere and the hopelessly flakey would take an interest in people of different cultures, or the words of women.

I understand that LN and her husband were meant to be a counterpoint to the comically crude couple visited before them, who were not involved enough with their children instead of too involved. For me, though, the most problematic moment came with the third family that Burt and Verona visited, which was supposed to be the most balanced.

Burt and Verona’s friends, Tom and Munch, seem to have it all—a happy, loving home with three adoptive kids. When the adults go out without the kids, they end up at amateur night at a local strip club. Munch, clad in a black dress, begins to dance for her husband to a slow song, and Tom confides to Burt that she had her fifth miscarriage earlier that week. He then waxes philosophical, wondering aloud if they’ve been “selfish” for waiting so long to start their family.

Tom and Burt

There are so many problems with this scene, I don’t know where to begin. Whatever you believe about abortion, you can’t “owe” anything to someone who hasn’t been conceived yet. Also, women miscarry for many reasons not related to age. Infertile couples (meaning, for my purposes, couples who can’t carry a pregnancy to term as well as those who can’t conceive) suffer enough without movies telling them to second-guess themselves.

More importantly though, Tom and Munch already have a family. They are contributing the act of parenting to the world. But naturally, the subtext says, the three non-White and/or non-American kids they have at home are not enough to make them happy.

I found Tom and Munch to be hurtful caricatures of infertile couples. I understand that the desire to have children of one’s own loins is very natural, and that the inability to do so can be extremely painful. However, I would dare say that society’s insistence on considering adoption second-rate, and its complete failure to recognize childless couples as families, makes it far more painful than it has to be.

Verona and Burt

I understand, too, that in the story, Munch’s pain was fresh, and she had another woman’s pregnant belly in her face. That only makes it more insulting that Tom barely watches her dirge-like dance, but is more engaged in whining to Burt. The message is, infertile women aren’t sexy. They’re sad.

In the end, Burt and Verona move into her childhood home, although they don’t have any chosen family nearby that I can recall. She faces the demons of her parents’ death. Whatever. By that point I didn’t even care. Burt and Verona were the only characters in the movie that I really liked. Users on IMDB described the others as “overwritten,” and the movie itself as pretentious, and I have to agree. The fail was the most memorable thing for me about Away We Go. When it comes to movies where a couple deals with infertility, I’d rather re-watch Juno. You know—the one that ends with an adoption.

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LD Anderson is a health insurance industry professional living in Nashville, Tennessee. She has been writing professionally about popular culture since high school and currently contributes to Popshifter.com. You can follow her (intermittently) on Twitter at @LDA_writes.

Penetrating History in ‘Hysteria’

Written by Rachel Redfern

When I first saw the trailer for Tayla Waxter’s 2011 period comedy, Hysteria, I was incredibly excited; I awaited it’s US release for the past year hoping that it would fulfill my need for clever comedy with smart female characters. However, we might as well just get it over with–Hysteria fell short of my expectations.

The plot of this small independent film is a fictionalized account of the creation and distribution of the personal vibrator, an appliance that unbelievably has it’s roots in 19th Century England and was actually designed to abate the symptoms of female hysteria. Hysteria was considered a real condition during that time period and was assigned to troubled women (a quarter of the female population) who must then be driven to orgasm. Seriously.

I would suggest that everyone do a little Wikipedia search for ‘female hysteria’ because it’s some of the most entertaining and offbeat information I’ve ever heard. Doctors and midwives used to ‘massage’ women into orgasms (yes, male doctors and female midwives—how’s that for Victorian homoeroticism) to help with their anxiety, loss of appetite and even insomnia. During this period, it seems hard to believe that no one started some sort of morality campaign against the doctors who were pleasuring their wives in the name of science, but there you have it, folks. The fact that the entire European and American medical establishment willfully ignored the obvious logical conclusions about female sexuality (you know, that women like, need and enjoy sex just as much as men do) is both tragic and hilarious at the same time.

One hopes that this advertisement for an ‘Electro-Massage Machine’ was a bit tongue in cheek

One would believe then (or at least I did) that a film about such a ‘tragic and hilarious’ situation like female hysteria would be both comedic and portray some of the complications and harm that affected women because of these early medical beliefs. This of course leads to my fallen expectations: Hysteria was at most sweet and lighthearted, though from my viewpoint, naïve and lacking in any real substance.

Despite it’s very feminist-looking trailer and plot, the film still centers around the men who invent the vibrator and is, at it’s core, a romantic comedy with the guy getting the girl at the end of the day. The film lacks any kind of subtlety in the political messages that’s it’s pushing, nor does it expound upon complexities or gray areas. Maggie Gyllenhaal portrays the fiery, feminist, saintly Maggie Dalrymple who is a very positive representation of a ‘feminist’ character, though is what I would call Hollywood feminist ‘lite’: a glossy stereotype who strangely has few lines and a lack of screen time. Felicity Jones is prim and proper like a good English girl and then does an abrupt about-face into an independent modern woman just like a good character should, but without much struggle or enthusiasm. Hugh Dancy is the brilliant doctor, dashing but dull, who in a surprisingly original ending still saves the day and Maggie Gyllenhaal (sarcasm).

Maggie Gyllenhall and Hugh Dancy

There are some redeeming characters though: a lusty prostitute turned housemaid named ‘Molly the Lolly’ and Rupert Everett as the wealthy eccentric inventor who steals the show with his dialogues about the queen and the telephone (make of that what you will).

Sheridan Smith as Molly the Lolly and a vibrator

However, the movie is well made, well acted, with some clever dialogues and funny situations, which is really too bad because the plot and the idea of the movie had some incredible potential. While I know that not every movie needs to be The Hours, Hysteria was about as original as my title for this piece. The problem of the film is instead of exploring some of the more problematic and comedic situations, the film took the safe, clichéd route and left itself sweet, but mediocre.

The first test of the vibrator with Jonathon Pryce, Rupert Everett, and Hugh Dancy

Rachel Redfern has an MA in English literature, where she conducted research on modern American literature and film and its intersection, however she spends most of her time watching HBO shows, traveling, and blogging and reading about feminism.

‘Won’t Back Down’ Causes Mixed Feelings

Viola Davis and Maggie Gyllenhaal in “Won’t Back Down”

On September 28, 2012, Won’t Back Down will hit the theaters. This is a movie starring two well-known, respected actresses, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Viola Davis. It has two female characters. One of them is a woman of color. They are two characters who work together in the pursuit of a common goal. They have lives that do not revolve around men. Their eventual triumph is a triumph of female collaboration.

This movie sounds like a feminist’s dream come true. It will probably pass the Bechdel test with flying colors and show a realistic portrayal of two women who become close as they fight a common enemy. And this common enemy is one of the greediest, most evil foes in American history: the teachers’ union.

*sigh*

I really shouldn’t be surprised. We live in the age of Corporations Are People, so of course a film financed by a conservative activist is going to portray a teachers’ union as the villain. After all, Waiting for Superman didn’t succeed enough in its propaganda to demonize unions and public schools, so the producers have no choice but to try their hand at fiction instead.

This is not exaggeration. An February article from The New York Times, “In Reality and Film, a Battle for Schools,” states the following:

“For Walden, the film is a second shot at an education-reform movie. With Mr. Gates and the progressive-minded Participant Media, Walden was among the financial backers of the documentary ‘Waiting for ‘Superman.’ ”

That film, released in 2010, advocated, as potential solutions to an education crisis, charter schools, teacher testing and an end to tenure. But it took in only about $6.4 million at the box office and received no Oscar nominations after union officials and others strongly attacked it.

‘We realized the inherent limitations of the documentary format,’ said Michael Bostick, chief executive of Walden. Now, he said, the idea is to reach a larger audience through the power of actors playing complicated characters who struggle with issues that happen to be, in his phrase, ‘ripped from the headlines.'”

“Ripped from the headlines.” That’s an accurate description, as the story of the film is ripped from several different headlines about parent trigger laws (laws that allow parents to overturn public schools if they get enough signatures on a petition – 51%). “Inspired by a true story” also leads the audience to believe that this is a fictionalized version of a successful implementation of the parent trigger law – except that’s not the case. The parent trigger law has never been successfully been implemented, and moreover, Won’t Back Down takes place in Pennsylvania – a city that doesn’t have such a law in the first place.

But that’s not the only reason why Won’t Back Down appears to be problematic. Take a look at the trailer:

It’s only two and a half minutes long but I can’t keep count of all the cliches in such a short amount of time. I do think it’s interesting that the trailer only shows us two teachers – Maggie Gyllenhaal’s daughter’s Bad Teacher and Viola Davis’s Good Teacher – and we’re immediately led to believe that Davis’s character is the exceptional, rare Good one while the cartoonish Bad Teacher is indicative of most of the people at that school.

Of course, I haven’t yet seen the film myself. Other former teachers have, though, and they point out the way the film portrays teachers and unions as villains. Sabrina Stevens, in “Why ‘Won’t Back Down Just Doesn’t Stack Up’,” writes:

“I personally remember lots of overstuffed rolling tote bags (an especially popular option among teachers who needed to bring work home after school ended) and reusable coffee mugs (popular among us newbies who often worked such long hours we barely saw daylight during the fall and winter months) in the school I worked in. Likewise, the school day itself was often a whirr, with teachers bouncing around among 25, 30 or more students at a time during lessons; moving in and out of meetings, planning and professional development sessions; and making calls and handling other daily logistics during “free” periods.

Yet in the movie, it is repeatedly asserted that the union contract prevents exactly this kind of work from taking place. (I suppose all those graded papers, lesson plans, letters of recommendation and after-school activities just happen by magic?) In this school, the contract and the union that backs it are blamed for teachers not helping kids and refusing to work after school. And except for the two teachers closest to the desperate mother played by Maggie Gyllenhaal, these teachers don’t appear to do all that much during the school day, either. The dour, bitter teachers on display during the first two-thirds of this movie looked very little like the committed, passionate teachers I know– though I suppose it’s easy for a screenwriter to misread teachers’ bouts of fatigue or frustration as bitterness if they don’t understand where that frustration comes from. Managing 30 or so people at once requires a constant stream of attention and thousands of split-second decisions every day. Add to that inadequate resources and escalating demands, and formerly bright smiles will indeed begin to dim.”

The film seems to have an overwhelming anti-union message. So what does that have to do with feminism?

Well, frankly, I’m really annoyed that there’s a movie with two women in the lead roles – three, if you include Holly Hunter’s antagonistic eeeevil union leader – and I can’t go see it because of the teacher-bashing.

I like to see movies with women in the lead roles. I especially like to see movies that have two women in the lead roles. I want to financially support movies that give women storylines that don’t revolve entirely around men. And now there seems to be such a film, that also happens to be dedicated to kicking a group that’s already down.

I feel like Hollywood bought me a kitty cat, made me fall in love with that kitty cat, and then crept into my room at night and punched me in the face.

Thanks, Hollywood. Thanks a lot.

Motherhood in Film & Television: Sherrybaby

Maggie Gyllenhall in Sherrybaby

This is a guest review by Gabriella Apicella.

In all areas of our lives, women are neatly packaged into stereotypes that strip us of complexity and personality. Dating back to the original typecasting of Virgin vs Whore, there are other labels that fall along the same trajectory, just as inadequate and inaccurate: Wife, Mother, Slut, Gold-digger, Victim, House-wife, Lesbian, Office Bitch, etc. All of these unhelpful words have been embodied by countless depictions in film, from “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,” to “The Devil Wears Prada,” to “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” So much so, that there appear to be very defined ideas in society of how any one of these characters may or may not behave.

What is so extraordinary about “Sherrybaby” is the main character is so completely rounded and real that she bursts free from the predictable constraints imposed by stereotypes. The film follows Sherry Swanson, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal, as she tries to reconnect with her daughter after being released from prison. Yet although this provides the main motivation for virtually everything she does in the film, writer and director Laurie Collyer has brought to the screen a female character who is not just a passionate mother, not just a recovering addict, not just a victim of abuse, not just a sexually confident woman, not just a sweet primary school teacher, but ALL of these things.

Maggie Gyllenhaal in Sherrybaby

Even within my own circle of friends I have had conversations where they have expressed concern about how they should or should not behave now that they have become mothers. This revered state of Motherhood has them calling into question how much they should now drink, have sex, enjoy their careers: clearly something is very wrong if women are feeling that they are not free to be themselves, because they have become a mother. Other friends have confided to losing close friends since having a child – as if they are perceived as not even being the same person anymore!

Flaws within a mother are almost inexcusable by society: how dare they drink, have sex, work, put anyone but their child first 24 hours a day every day for the rest of their lives! Film and society at large have both upheld this unattainable expectation of virtuous behaviour, giving transgressors the harshest of punishments. In film “bad mothers” tend to end up dead, alone or insane, whereas the rates of women being imprisoned is climbing at an extraordinary rate, with nearly two-thirds of the prison population being mothers.

Director Laurie Collyer with Maggie Gyllenhaal

Watching the painstaking journey Sherry Swanson takes in “Sherrybaby” is almost unbearably moving at times. Her resolve to be with her child is steadfast throughout, yet as she makes attempts to reconnect with her, the audience is also shown the different sides to her personality; sexual, troubled, playful, over-sensitive, kind, immature, ruthless, Gyllenhaal’s performance is nuanced and raw.

Whilst she explodes into a violent rage at one of the bullying women harassing her in a halfway-house, she maintains her composure and diplomacy with the far more painful handling of a conversation with her sister-in-law, who has instructed Sherry’s daughter to call her Sherry instead of “Mom.” When her child Alexis appears to be scared of her, and is reluctant to spend a day with her, Sherry never loses her patience, and only displays love and tenderness to the child; entirely at odds with her declaration at an interview “I’ll suck your dick if you give me the job I want.”

Director of Sherrybaby, Laurie Collyer

There is no straightforward way to describe this character, as all the contrasting facets of Sherry’s personality are evident, and yet she remains consistent. Perhaps this has been the quandary of filmmakers, and the reason for stereotypes: how is it possible to reconcile so many different characteristics into one person? So “Moms” (and let’s face it, Women) are wholesome and good, or crazy and bad. But people are multi-faceted, as are Moms, and the sensationally real depiction of Sherry by Laurie Collyer demonstrates expertly that there is no need for the two-dimensional predictability we are used to from female roles.

Without using over-egged sentimentality, Collyer even affords Sherry the possibility of happiness, showing that despite her drug-taking, sexual misadventures and lack of parenting skills, she deserves a second chance. This compassion is certainly missing from film depictions of women, and is all too often missing from wider society also. Both must change so that women may smash through the stereotypes.

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Gabriella Apicella is a feminist writer and tutor living in London, England. She has a degree in Film and Media from Birkbeck College, University of London, is on the board of Script Development organisation Euroscript, and in 2010 co-founded the UnderWire Festival that aims to recognise the raw filmmaking talent of women. Her writing features women in the central roles, and she has been commissioned to write short films, experimental theatre and prose for independent directors and artists.