Megan Kearns – Page 2

Am I the Only Feminist Who Didn’t Really Like ‘The Heat?’ Or Why I Want My Humor Intersectional

Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy in ‘The Heat’

I was extremely excited to see The Heat. Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy, both of whom I love, headlining a comedy? As a huge fan of Bridesmaids, seeing self-proclaimed feminist Paul Feig direct another lady-centric comedy got me giddy with excitement. AND with Bullock and McCarthy??? Yes, please! I don’t care what anyone says, Sandra Bullock is a fantastic actor, even in shitty films. And McCarthy is hilarious.

I purposely saw it the weekend it opened to support women in film. Seeing films opening weekend sends a message to Hollywood which films matter to audiences. In this case, that female-centric films do sell, that they do matter.

Both FBI Special Agent Sarah Ashburn (Sandra Bullock) and Detective Shannon Mullins (Melissa McCarthy) excel at their jobs. Ashburn is in the FBI and while the men don’t respect her, she thinks they’re intimidated by her (which she’s probably right), she gets shit done. Mullins, a Boston cop, is feared by everyone at her precinct, including the chief of police. But she too gets shit done. Both women are top-notch at their jobs. And they clash when they first meet. Not because of catty bullshit pitting the women against one another, a common trope in way too many movies and TV shows. But because they both want to succeed at their jobs and they don’t want anyone getting in their ways.

But I have to be honest. I didn’t really like The Heat that much. After talking to quite a few feminists, I feel like the only feminist who didn’t love it.

I adore Bullock and McCarthy, and I loved seeing them on-screen together. They possessed an effortless chemistry. It was great seeing a film focusing on female friendship between two career-driven, successful women. And there were some funny parts. Don’t think that I didn’t laugh. I did. But for me, the movie suffered from weak dialogue and a weak plot. Can we finally please for-the-love-of-all-that-is-fucking-holy stop having debates as to whether or not women are funny?? Please??? To me this was a case of funny ladies in a not-so-funny movie.

What really tainted the movie for me was its preponderance of ableist, racist and transphobic humor. I was horrified when I saw these jokes continually occur one after another. Fuck that noise.

When we’re introduced to Mullins, she’s staking out drug dealing suspect Terrell Rojas. There’s something extremely bothersome in the first 15 minutes of the movie about a white cop driving after a black man running on foot set to upbeat music as if this is supposed to be funny. Then there are watermelon jokes (naturally). When Ashburn and Mullins run into Rojas later on, they end up holding him upside down by his feet over the railing of a fire escape. And then drop him. While the audience around me roared with laughter, I didn’t find it funny. At all. As Sarah Jackson said on Twitter, “celebrating police brutality and unfunny race jokes,” just isn’t funny.

No, no, no, just no

But the racism doesn’t stop there. While it’s great that there were people of color in the film, having a white woman, refer to a Latino character as Puss in Boots, alluding to the Antonio Banderas voiced character in Shrek (ugh, fuck no), undermines diversity with racism. Oh, but wait. I forgot it’s all okay because at one point in the film, Mullins says, “9 out of 10 guys I fuck are black.” Oh, the Lisa Lampanelli argument. You can do all sorts of racist shit and say horrific racist things but you CANNOT be a racist if you have sex with black men or have black friends. Riiiight.

Then there’s the extremely offensive transphobia. When Ashburn meets Mullins’ family, they ask her if she’s really a woman. When she tells them yes, they retort, “From the get-go? No operation?” and “How do you get such a close shave?” Oh ha ha ha, trans people are SO FUNNY. No, just no. Now I know people will say but Ashburn isn’t trans so it’s not a slight. Yes, it is most definitely a transphobic joke. Here the “joke” is that a woman looks masculine or androgynous. Her androgyny, her lack of conformity to stereotypical beauty norms automatically means she’s transgressing traditional gender roles, so that must make her transgender. Trans women and trans men are continually mocked, belittled and dehumanized in media and our society.

And there’s Mullins’ five-minute (supposedly humorous) tirade on the size of her boss’ balls. How his balls are little “girl balls.” That’s right, let’s insult a guy by insulting the size of his testicles. Only “real” men have balls. Wait no, only “real” men have big balls. Newsflash, masculinity isn’t tied to scrotum size. And trans men may not have balls at all. They’re still men.

Oh and we have to make fun of accents too. Hey, why not? Ashburn has a difficult time understanding Mullins’ brother saying the word “nark” because of his Boston accent. Oh accents are soooo funny!! Maybe I’m particularly annoyed by this because I live in Boston. And apparently all Bostonians have ties to crime, if I’ve learned anything from watching movies.

Then of course there’s DEA Agent Craig, aka The Albino. Did anyone else cringe at this?? God I hope so. Albinism is a disability. So now we’re making fun of people with disabilities for “looking like evil henchmen” and calling them “Snowcone??” Make it stop.

With all the offensive “jokes,” I was expecting fat-shaming jokes too. I loved that Melissa McCarthy’s weight was never an issue in the film. No jokes were made about her weight. Oh wait, I take that back. DEA Agent Craig tells her she looks “like the Campbell soup kid all grown up.” Really? We see Mullins as a sexually confident, assertive woman and we can’t get away without some fat-shaming snark? There is however an epic take-down of the horrors and toxicity of beauty culture in the form of Spanx. Yes, I’ve worn them, yes they are a demonic torture device. This was especially awesome considering the hideously disgusting fat-shaming vitriol Rex Reed spewed at McCarthy.

Screw you, Spanx!

But I have to say that while part of me is delighted to see different depictions of gender presentation, particularly non-stereotypical depictions of beauty (not every woman wants to wear dresses and lots of make-up), does Melissa McCarthy always have to be in slovenly clothes or ridiculous costumes in every movie I see her in?? She’s a beautiful woman. But it’s as if the films she’s in don’t believe that a plus-size woman can be. Why can’t we see a plus-size woman looking different? Or for that matter, why can’t we see more women of all sizes on-screen??

I did love Bullock and McCarthy’s camaraderie and watching their friendship unfold. And it’s fantastic to see two women over the age of 40 headlining a blockbuster movie. Especially when Hollywood abhors aging women and suffers from massive amounts of ageism. And you could tell they had a fucking blast making this movie. It was also awesome to not have a romance in the film, an aspect that delighted Feig as well. While there were flirtations, no romance upstaged the film. The ladies’ sisterhood took center stage.

Part of me was highly annoyed the film didn’t transcend the trappings of a buddy-cop comedy. Although Monika Bartyzel at Girls On Film asserts that critics have missed the point as The Heat breaks new ground by not being groundbreaking. And I get what she’s saying. But there’s something to be said for just showing women in film rather than having to analyze patriarchal oppressions.

While there’s very little commentary on gender and sexism, and an ass load of misogyny spewed by DEA Agent Craig — Sidebar, is that why it’s okay to make fun of his disability, because he’s a douchebag?? No, no, no — Ashburn and Mullins kind of “blow off misogynistic bullshit.” But thankfully there’s a very brief and subtle commentary on sexism in the workplace amidst a conversation between Ashburn and Mullins at a bar about how hard it is to be a woman in this line of work.

But did it have to follow in the shadow of buddy-cop movies by also containing transphobic, ableist and racist jokes? Couldn’t it have done without that??

Sadly I wasn’t a huge fan of ‎The Heat. I wish I had been. But I just couldn’t get past the extremely problematic humor. Sigh. I wish it hadn’t been so racist, ableist or transphobic. I wanted to like this, especially because it was written by Katie Dippold, a writer and producer of my fave feminist TV show Parks and Rec. But feminism isn’t just about gender equality and putting more women in film. Although that’s a huge start. It’s about combating all forms of institutional discrimination and oppression. And not perpetuating prejudice.

If only ‘The Heat’ could have been as awesome as these ladies.

Despite its flaws, I wholeheartedly believe we need more female-centric films. Way more. And you know what? I’d rather have a female-centric movie I’m not a big fan of rather than none at all.

I’ve read that author (and very funny tweeter) Jennifer Weiner doesn’t like to criticize or speak negatively about books by other female writers because she knows how difficult it is for women to get published. And then when they do, male authors get reviewed more often, and typically by male critics, since gender disparity exists in the critic world too.

And I totally get why she does this. Sisterhood and solidarity can be extremely powerful. There’s a dearth of female film directors, female-fronted films, female screenwriters, female film critics. So I always feel guilty when I don’t lavish a female-centric/penned/directed film. But here’s the thing. I really shouldn’t have to worry about whether or not my critique is going to derail other female filmmakers. Not that I’m saying my words carry as much weight as say NY Times’ Manohla Dargis or anything. But I don’t want to add to the din of voices hyper-scrutinizing women-led films.

Like my Bitch Flicks colleague Leigh Kolb, I too “want theaters to be packed with genre films with women at the helm — in character, with the writing credits, as directors.” I want to get to a point when we have an abundance of women in films — women of all races, ethnicities, sexualities, classes, abilities, etc. — in front of and behind the camera. Wouldn’t that be awesome?? Of course it would. Diversity and equality are good for all.

Then I can critique a film to my heart’s content without worrying that some asshat in Hollywood thinks they shouldn’t greenlight more women-centric films. Hollywood never thinks to stop making movies with male protagonists. One shitty dude-centric movie? Bring on more dude films. A shitty women-centric movie?? All lady movies must suck.

Gender shouldn’t be blamed for a film’s failure. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want my humor to be hilarious as well as feminist and intersectional. Trust me, I do. So here’s a tip filmmakers. You want to make a truly feminist film? Don’t muck it up with prejudicial bullshit. Feminism isn’t about women standing on the backs of other oppressed people in order to get ahead. I want to root for ladies on-screen without cringing the entire time I’m watching. Is that really too much to ask?

The Women of ‘Man of Steel’ and the Toxicity of Hyper-Masculinity

Amy Adams as Lois Lane in Man of Steel

Written by Megan Kearns.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Superman. Sure I grew up watching and liking the Christopher Reeve films. And I sure as fuck am NOT a fan of Zack Snyder and his frequent faux female empowerment, despite his protestations to the contrary. But I do adore Lois Lane. An intrepid, fast-talking, driven reporter? How could I not?

Lois has had many incarnations: feminist women’s libber, lovelorn damsel in distress, tough business woman. And she’s often a mélange of these traits. She has an extensive feminist history and “she has always reflected conflicting attitudes toward women, especially talented, independent women.” Throughout her history, it seems Lois has always been a crystallization of a woman immersed in a world dominated by patriarchy and sexism. So does Man of Steel give us “a Lois Lane we deserve?”

Lois is a smart, spunky, hard-hitting, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. In her first scene in Man of Steel, when there’s some bro-tastic bullshit being spewed, Lois replies, “Now that we’re done having a dick measuring contest.” Fuck yeah!! Love this Lois! When Lois is shown her Spartan quarters at a military outpost in the Arctic, she questions, “Where do I tinkle?” Did Lois really use the word “tinkle?” Since it was juxtaposed after her awesome “dick-measuring” throwdown, I believe it’s intended as a subtle commentary on how society views women as weak, coddled and needing lots of amenities. But who knows, maybe I’m giving the film too much credit.

Lois writes a story about the mysterious stranger who saves her in the Arctic, believing he is not of this world. When her editor Perry White (Laurence Fishburne, the first African-American to play the role…and sadly one of the few people of color in the film, which is a shame considering “Superman’s identity as a transnational adoptee”), won’t publish her story, she persists and leaks it to an online site. Lois refuses to let anyone get in the way of her career. And that’s incredibly admirable.

In the Superman films with Margot Kidder and Christopher Reeve, Lois is a better reporter than Clark. He can type faster but she’s a shrewd investigative journalist. He has the brawn while she has the brains. But both share a morality: he wants to save people in danger; she wants to tell stories to inform the public and expose injustice. Because of this, both are fairly equal despite Superman’s superhero, god-like powers. There’s an interesting change in Lois’ role in Man of Steel. In the comics and previous films, Lois suspects but doesn’t know Clark is Superman, or if she does know, Clark erases her memory of his true identity. But here she discovers the truth early on. It puts the two characters on more equal ground.

Lois (Amy Adams) in Man of Steel

Producer Deborah Snyder says Lois and Superman in Man of Steel save each other – he saves her physically while she saves him emotionally. Does that sate my need for equality? Notsomuch. Yes, it’s a step in the right direction. Yet it makes me uneasy as it relegates men and women to stereotypical gender roles. That men handle the “tough stuff,” while women the touchy-feely world of emotions.

I like that Lois makes up her mind and has an insatiable curiosity and is career-driven. Yet her life still revolves around Superman. Now some people will argue with me saying, “But the movie is named Superman, NOT Lois Lane!” Yeah, I know. I don’t give a shit. I want women in films to have their own personalities, their own lives, their own identities. Of course Lois’ path is intertwined with Superman’s or she wouldn’t even be in this film. But why must women continuously be reduced to damsels in distress, sidekicks or love interests? Wielding a gun or throwing a punch, isn’t automatically synonymous with power or agency.

Some will argue that Lois fights, playing a pivotal role in defeating General Zod. And she does. But it’s not her ingenuity or skills that enable her achievements. It’s Superman’s daddy via fancy hologram-consciousness instructing her how to defeat Superman’s enemies. Okay, so she can carry out orders. Is that really an improvement? It’s not her ingenuity or intelligence. And of course Lois still remains the love interest and frequent damsel in distress.

Faora (Antje Traue) in Man of Steel

What about Faora, Superman’s female Kryptonian, man-hating (in the comics) nemesis? She kicks some serious ass with a compelling fighting style. And it’s awesome. But again, she merely follows Zod, a dude, serving as his second in command. Why couldn’t she be in charge as the head villain? While she doesn’t have much personality, she does have an interesting exchange with Superman when she tells him he will always lose because he suffers the flaw of morality which she and her brethren have evolved past.

I initially thought this would be an annoyingly bro-tastic film with guidance and support strictly coming from the men in Clark/Kal-El’s life. But women play an equal role in the film. Unlike Star Trek Into Darkness where women remain mostly invisible or as sex objects, we see women in the military, women journalists besides Lois, and women on Krypton in leadership positions. “All of this may seem relatively minor, but it is rare for superhero movies to feature females in important, non-sexualized, non-damsel-in-distress roles.”

What is interesting though is Man of Steel’s commentary on masculinity. Throughout the film, Clark/Kal-El must wrangle with his emotions of identity and belonging. He wants to help people but his father keeps telling him he must hide his powers for people fear what they don’t understand, further underscoring the themes of immigration and xenophobia. When Clark is a young boy, he gets bullied. But he doesn’t fight back; he merely endures. He tells his father he wanted to hit the boy. His father nods and says that part of him wanted him to hit the bully. His father inquires, “But what would that accomplish?” When Clark is much older, traveling around and bouncing from job to job in anonymity, he again encounters a bully objectifying a female co-worker. He endures the bully’s taunts and walks away. There’s a continually dueling masculinity happening on-screen — a mature, calm and rational male who turns the other cheek and a toxic, aggressive, hyper-masculine male vying for supremacy.

Clark/Kal-El (Henry Cavill) and Martha Kent (Diane Lane) in Man of Steel

Both sets of parents — Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van and Jonathan and Martha Kent — influence their son. Man of Steel shows how Clark/Kal-El benefits from the influence of both his adoptive and biological father and mother. Although it would have been nice to see Lara’s consciousness in the Fortress of Solitude, not just Jor-El. Through much of the film, it’s Jor-El and Jonathon Kent providing guidance. But Martha Kent provides as strong an impact on Clark. She teaches her son to silence all of the chaos in his mind (brought on by his superpower senses of hearing, sight and smell), to focus only on the sound of her voice. In a genre that often features “absent mothers,” it’s great to see the power of motherhood here.

By showcasing the strength of his bonds with his father and mother, the film asserts that men need both feminine and masculine spheres in their lives. Superman finds inner peace when he learns of his past and when Lois believes in him. The men in Clark/Kal-El’s life teach him outer strength while the women in his life teach him inner strength.

The message underscoring the film is choice. That we can choose our destiny, choose the lives we lead. I found this especially compelling considering 2013 is shaping up to be the worst year for reproductive rights and the film’s subtle reproductive justice theme as Jor-El and Lara defy the laws of Krypton to conceive Kal-El/Clark. They choose to defy the eugenics of their society and have a child who can choose his own path, not merely follow the one laid out for him by society. They also choose to jettison their child to Earth in order to save his life. While we get to see Jor-El in all kinds of action scenes, Lara is the one who chooses to push the button launching Kal-El when her husband is threatened. By the end of Man of Steel, Superman must make a choice. He must choose Krypton or Earth. And he ultimately decides through a surprising violent act that runs counter to Superman’s moral code. When he breaks down because of his decision, Lois is there to comfort him.

Lara Lor-Van (Ayelet Zurer) in Man of Steel

While I liked it and it’s by far my favorite Snyder film (although trust and believe, that’s not saying much), it’s kind of a mess with tissue-thin characters and not being able to decide what it wanted to be. While it’s “criticial of hyper-masculinity and the violence it engenders” and “condemns sexual objectification and harassment of women,” the film’s last third contained such an onslaught of non-stop violent action it seems to contradict the theme of the perils of violence and aggression. Yet it’s nice to see a film argue that “choice saves the world.”

What does this mean? That men should choose to be gentle? That they should connect with femininity? That men should choose to use violence only when “necessary”? Perhaps it means that men don’t have to be aggressive bullies. They can choose another way as restraint, compassion and tenderness don’t strip men of their masculinity.

While it’s fantastic Man of Steel reinforces the importance of both femininity and masculinity and attempts to deconstruct hyper-masculinity, it’s unfortunate that the film still says women’s lives revolve around men through its failure of the Bechdel Test. Yeah, I don’t really count one-sided conversations of journalist Jenny saying to Lois, “Come see this,” or Faora instructing Lois about her breathing device. What’s annoying is that these conversations could have been fleshed out, along with the discussion between Martha Kent and Lois who talk to each other…but of course about Superman.

Some have hailed Man of Steel “the most feminist action film of the year.” Yes, it depicts women in various roles, boasts an intelligent female love interest and a kickass female villain, and questions toxic hyper-masculinity. Despite all its strides, can a film truly be feminist if it ultimately revolves around dudes?

Superman (Henry Cavill) and Lois (Amy Adams) in Man of Steel

I’m getting really fucking sick and tired of complaining about blockbuster films, particularly superhero films. I love this genre. I love comic books, sci-fi and action films. I want so desperately to have these films be awesome. And feminist. Which would make them even more awesome.

While we’re seeing more women-centric blockbusters like The Hunger Games, Bridesmaids, Twilight and the upcoming The Heat, we desperately need more, especially women in superhero movies (Wonder Woman, She-Hulk, Black Widow, etc, etc, etc). Hollywood has “pretty much entirely devoted itself to telling men’s stories.” It seems like filmmakers are kinda sorta beginning to listen to audiences’ desire for more empowered women on-screen. Yet I’m continuously annoyed that even when filmmakers claim their female roles will be more proactive or empowered, their attempts at appeasement still fail. They still don’t get it.

Some filmmakers and studios think merely increasing the number of women, featuring a female sidekick, or giving a woman a gun solves everything. How about some real empowerment? How about seeing complex female characters with agency? How about we see their perspective, hear their voice and see their struggles?

Man of Steel gets so many things right. Yet it still fails to portray nuanced female characters with agendas of their own who don’t exist to aid in the self-actualization of the men in their lives — roles Lois, Martha, Lara and Faora all serve. It’s a shame especially when you have an iconic feminist female role already embedded in the story.

Travel Films Week: In Defense of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’

Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love

Written by Megan Kearns. A version of this article was originally published at The Opinioness of the World. Cross-posted with permission.

I had been looking forward to watching Eat, Pray, Love ever since I saw the trailer. I read the book a few ago, its popularity piqued my curiosity. The prospect of leaving life behind to travel for a year intrigued the armchair traveler in me. I picked the book up…and couldn’t put it down. I loved it. Author Elizabeth Gilbert drew me in with her honesty, humor and raw vulnerability. So I was eager to see the film adaptation.

The film follows Elizabeth “Liz” Gilbert, a successful writer with a seemingly perfect husband and home. Yet as she attains more and more of what she thinks she wants, Liz’s unhappiness grows and her world begins to crumble. Liz endures a devastating divorce followed by a fling with an actor. When that relationship falls apart, her pain consumes her and she’s unsure where to turn. Yearning to reignite her passion for life, Liz decides to travel, living abroad for one year. She chooses to live for four months in Italy to focus on pleasure (“eat”), then India to connect with her spirituality (“pray”) and finally Bali to learn how to balance the two and ultimately lead a life in harmony (“love”).

Julia Roberts eating pizza in Eat, Pray, Love

Lush and gorgeous, the film exhibits breathtaking vistas. It spurs you to want to pick up, leave everything behind and move to Italy, India or Bali. And megastar Julia Roberts is likable, capturing Gilbert’s curiosity about the unfolding world around her. My inner foodie enjoyed the decadent food scenes, which are a big part of the book, reminiscent of those in Julie and Julia. The film boasts a stellar supporting cast, particularly Viola Davis (love her), Mike O’Malley and Richard Jenkins. However, Javier Bardem’s talents are wasted here.

In the book, we have the pleasure of Gilbert’s humorous and vulnerable voice to guide us. While it’s sort of present in the film, it’s somehow diluted. One of the most heartbreaking yet touching moments for me in the book is when Gilbert sobs on her bathroom floor, begging god for help, as she doesn’t know what else to do. She prays that she’s not pregnant, even though she thinks a baby is what she’s supposed to want. Although the film sadly erases her pregnancy scare. I never felt, as much as she tried, that Roberts captures Gilbert’s depression and how she hit rock bottom.

I’m glad the movie retains the female friendship between Liz and Wayan as well as Wayan’s struggle to buy a house in Bali after she leaves her abusive marriage. But in the book, Gilbert spends far more time with Wayan and her daughter Tutti than the movie would lead you to believe, preferring to focus instead on the romance between Liz and Felipe, a Brazilian businessman in Bali.

Gilbert, with the help of friends and teachers along the way, finds the answers she seeks. Yet she also finds them within herself. But the film ignores this important distinction. Especially at the end, it’s as if Liz needs others to tell her what to do, rather than coming to decisions on her own accord. The book, while ending on a fairy-tale ending, focuses on Gilbert’s self-transformation, shifting from always revolving around a man to finding herself and what she wants. She realizes that you have to truly love yourself before you can love another. Gilbert learns to forgive herself, lets go of her unhappiness and embraces life.

Eat, Pray, Love

The movie makes interesting commentaries on gender. When Liz eats dinner with Felipe, he tells her how he stayed at home with his kids while his wife worked. Liz calls him “a good feminist husband.” In Italy, there’s a great scene where Liz and her friends celebrate an American Thanksgiving dinner to say goodbye. Her Italian tutor’s mother asks if she’s married. When she replies no, the mother declares that she doesn’t understand why a woman would go off and travel by herself. Her friend Sophie comes to her defense saying that no one would say that to her if she were a man and calls her brave for traveling alone. Another woman at the dinner comments on the difficulty of women’s choices.

There’s a pervasive notion that women will go see movies in the theatre about men as well as films about women, while men will only go see films starring men. Women and Hollywood’s Melissa Silverstein writes about Eat Pray Love and how “if women like it, it must be stupid” all about how women’s stories and interests are devalued and treated as less important than men’s interests. Silverstein writes:

“Why is it that things that appeal to women are made to seem trivial, stupid and less than? Is it about the fact that large groups of women are embracing something? Is it a fear that if enough women like something we’ll figure out how screwed we’ve been on so many issues that we will all just come together and revolt? Pleeze. Newflash — we aren’t that organized. Shit, we buy more books and see more films, yet stuff that appeals to women is constantly demeaned. Aren’t our dollars as green as the guys?”

Eat, Pray, Love

In her articulate and fascinating Bitch Media article, “Eat Pray Spend”, Joshunda Sanders Diana Barnes-Brown look at the gender theme of Eat Pray Love in a different light. Talking about the book, they write about the pervasive problem of privileged literature (“priv-lit”), asserting that women like Gilbert, Oprah and other self-help gurus tell women to buy their way to happiness. She writes:

“Priv-lit perpetuates several negative assumptions about women and their relationship to money and responsibility. The first is that women can or should be willing to spend extravagantly, leave our families, or abandon our jobs in order to fit ill-defined notions of what it is to be “whole.” Another is the infantilizing notion that we need guides—often strangers who don’t know the specifics of our financial, spiritual, or emotional histories—to tell us the best way forward. The most problematic assumption, and the one that ties it most closely to current, mainstream forms of misogyny, is that women are inherently and deeply flawed, in need of consistent improvement throughout their lives, and those who don’t invest in addressing those flaws are ultimately doomed to making themselves, if not others, miserable.”

Sanders and Barnes-Brown raise many valid points on sexism and consumerism. There’s something to be said for how our capitalist culture continually purports money and possessions as the path to happiness. If we buy this skin cream that erases wrinkles…if we lose weight…if we buy new clothes…we’ll fix ourselves, shed all our problems and finally attain happiness. But in all their Eat Pray Love criticism, Sanders and Barnes-Brown fail to mention Gilbert was able to travel in the first place due to an advance on a book deal from her publisher. So technically, she was still working. Of course this crucial piece of information IS woefully absent from the film. And the Eat Pray Love “merchandising machine” certainly works to undercut existential messages in the film. Regardless of how Liz funded her trip, it doesn’t invalidate the lessons she learned. Gilbert didn’t intentionally write a self-help manual — she shared her individual experiences. Rather, she wrote a manifesto to let go of fear and follow your dreams, whatever they may be.

Now, I’m no fan of director Ryan Murphy. Too often he erases bisexuality, perpetuates racist stereotypes and reinforcing misogyny in his TV series. But I don’t think the film perpetuates the misogynistic idea that all women are flawed and must be fixed. Liz was incredibly depressed and unhappy in her marriage. She struggled to get pregnant only to realize she didn’t want to have children. She wanted to finally stop putting off learning Italian and embrace her love of yoga. Although it could certainly be because I read the book which shares Liz’s background and her internal monologue, many details which the film glosses over or eliminates. “But if all you have to go on is Movie Liz, she seems like kind of a selfish jerk, and that makes her voyage to better self-care very hard to care about.”

Eat, Pray, Love

While most people can’t jet off to Europe and Asia on a year-long trip (um, I sure as hell can’t afford that), I still think there are aspects of the film and Liz’s journey people can relate to. In addition to being eye candy, Eat Pray Love raises interesting questions about gender and expectations. Women are supposed to want marriage and babies. And yet what we want may differ from societal standards. Society rigidly dictates what women are supposed to want but may feel disillusioned when they achieve those goals and still aren’t happy. Too many women sacrifice their own happiness for others. There’s nothing wrong with putting yourself and your needs first.

Many people often let things hold them back from going after what they want. If people want to go back to school to earn their degree, they think they’re too old. If they want to travel, they think they don’t have the money or the time. As someone raised in a financially-struggling, working class household, who’s often worked two jobs to make ends meet, I’m well aware of the fiscal and time constraints in people’s lives. Yet I think Liz’s story is a testament to seize the moment, to pursue your passions. Walking away from the life you have always known to dare to try something different, to push yourself out of your comfort zone is not only daunting but incredibly brave.

Many will bemoan that Liz is a wealthy privileged white woman who could afford to take a year out of her life. And she is. But would anyone utter this complaint if she were a man? Gilbert emphasizes that you don’t need to travel around the world to find happiness. Despite its flaws, the film (and book) reminds us to chart our own course, no matter what anyone tells us. And that lesson is priceless.

Does Uhura’s Empowerment Negate Sexism in ‘Star Trek Into Darkness’?

Lt. Nyota Uhura (Zoe Saldana) in Star Trek Into Darkness

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: Spoilers ahead!

Yes, I am a Trekkie. I’ve been a huge fan of Star Trek ever since I was a kid. The camaraderie of Star Trek: The Original Series, the intellectual and moral conundrums on Star Trek: The Next Generation, the political intrigue and exploration of social issues on Deep Space 9 — I love them all.

I really enjoyed JJ Abrams’ Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness. Both are fun, gripping movies paying homage to the original series. While I enjoy the nostalgia and revisiting these characters, I can’t ignore Star Trek Into Darkness’ vacillating depiction of empowerment and sexism.

In the 60s original TV series, Lieutenant Uhura was a ground-breaking role. It was one of the first time audiences saw a black woman on TV who wasn’t a maid or a servant. She was also part of the first interracial kiss on TV, although that always bothers me as it was against her wishes due to mind control. Uhura’s occupation as the Enterprise’s Communications Officer inspired women (Dr. Mae Jamison, Sally Ride) and African-Americans (Dr. Mae Jamison, Guion Bluford) to become astronauts. We can’t be what we can’t see, one of the reasons media impacts our lives so deeply.

Yet the original Star Trek didn’t exactly delve deeply into Lt. Uhura’s personality. However, we can glean a few things about the Communications Officer. Adept at languages, she was ambitious, climbing through ranks to eventually become a Commander. She enjoyed music and loved to play instruments and sing. She doesn’t really have a tangible persona, not compared to roguish and rebellious Kirk, rational and logical Spock or emotional, metaphor-spewing Bones. So it’s great to see the extremely talented Zoe Saldana — who I will seriously watch in anything — imbue the iconic character with more complexity and depth as an opinionated and assertive woman.

In the original series, Kirk, Spock and McCoy form the central trio. But in Star Trek Into Darkness, Uhura replaces McCoy so now there’s a woman of color in the triad. A lady broke through the boys’ club barrier!! But won’t her ladyparts contaminate the brotastic bond??

Is Uhura in Star Trek Into Darkness a strong-willed, intelligent, assertive badass? Or merely relegated to the role of a dude’s girlfriend? She’s both.

Spock (Zachary Quinto) and Uhura (Zoe Saldana)

Uhura and Spock share an effortless chemistry. As we saw in the first Star Trek film, despite their difference in rank, they appear to be equals in their romantic relationship. Uhura possesses agency, despite her romantic involvement. She’s the one who demands Kirk let her negotiate with the Klingons rather than shooting first. She’s the one who insists on being beamed down to help Spock in the film’s climax. No one is making decisions for her. She’s making them. She’s not afraid to voice her opinion. When she’s pissed at Spock, thinking he held little regard for his life, she’s unafraid to confront him even though Kirk, her boss, is present.

Part of me loves that Uhura, a black woman, is the one in the romance. Too often we see white women play out that plot. Black women often remain on the sidelines as the feisty sidekicks, giving their white friends advice on love. Lucy Liu recently lamented about racist stereotypes in Hollywood, how people don’t think of her in a romantic comedy. While not a rom-com, it’s great to see a woman of color get the guy.

But it pisses off another part of me that Uhura’s role in Star Trek Into Darkness is ultimately defined by her relationship to a man, even though that relationship often takes “a back seat to the bromance between Spock and Kirk.” Uhura’s role as girlfriend exists to convey Spock’s humanity. Uhura is upset at Spock that he seems so cavalier in a life-threatening situation, not giving their relationship a second thought. He assures her that he cares deeply but doesn’t want to endure the anguish of fear. They have a genuine conflict that I wish had been explored more. In the emotional climax, Spock loses control of his emotions due to his feelings for Kirk, not Uhura. Again it feels like it’s all about a dude.

Even though the other female character in the film Dr. Carol Marcus, a weapons specialist for chrissake, she’s ultimately defined by her relationship to a man too — her father, an ambassador and head of Starfleet. She’s also been called the worst damsel in distress ever. Not sure I’d say the worst but yeah it’s pretty bad. Oh and of course we see her in her underwear, for no reason other than to show Kirk ogling her. (In case you’re not familiar with original Star Trek, Dr. Marcus also happens to be the mother of Kirk’s son — another way her character is defined by a man — although she’s also the creator of the Genesis Project, which is pretty badass. But who knows if this will even transpire in the subsequent reboot series.)

Dr. Marcus’ gratuitous half-naked, eye-candy shot has rightfully pissed off a ton of people. Screenwriter and frequent Abrams collaborator Damon Lindelof recently responded to the criticism, proving he doesn’t fully comprehend sexism or misogyny:

I copped to the fact that we should have done a better job of not being gratuitous in our representation of a barely clothed actress.
— Damon Lindelof (@DamonLindelof) May 20, 2013

We also had Kirk shirtless in underpants in both movies.Do not want to make light of something that some construe as mysogenistic.
— Damon Lindelof (@DamonLindelof) May 20, 2013

What I’m saying is I hear you, I take responsibility and will be more mindful in the future.
— Damon Lindelof (@DamonLindelof) May 20, 2013

Also, I need to learn how to spell “misogynistic.”
— Damon Lindelof (@DamonLindelof) May 20, 2013

While it’s nice that he acknowledges their folly, even after he apologizes, it’s more a half-assed excuse as he mentions Kirk is shirtless. No, no. I just can’t. I’m not going to go into all the reasons why reducing a woman who’s defined by men to a sex object specifically for the Male Gaze is so NOT the same as showing a man shirtless. Just trust me. It’s not the same. At all.

I complained in Iron Man 3 of Pepper Potts’ faux empowerment, essentially fulfilling the Damsel in Distress trope. While others have claimed Uhura becomes the Damsel in Distress too, I disagree. While women overall get a pretty shitty treatment in the film, Uhura’s agency is not stripped away. She voices her ideas, desires and annoyances. Unlike Pepper, Uhura fearlessly expresses her opinions and holds steady to them.

When Klingons surround Uhura, Spock and Kirk’s small spacecraft, Uhura decisively asserts herself. She tells hot-headed Kirk — who of course wants to charge out with guns blazing – that he brought her there to speak Klingon. “So let me speak Klingon.” Uhura wants to be the diplomatic negotiator resolving the situation. Huzzah! Oops, when negotiations go awry things, it’s testosterone to the rescue. And yes, Uhura gets saved by a dude. Annoying. However, in the ensuing melee, Uhura grabs a dagger off a Klingon who was going to kill her and kills him first in self-defense. Later in the film, she asserts herself again when she beams down to help Spock against villain Khan.

Uhura

Star Trek Into Darkness also makes an interesting commentary on stereotypical masculinity. While Ambassador Marcus is aggressive, looking to kill Khan, Kirk learns the importance of following the rules to ensure justice. It initially seems like a denouncement of toxic hyper-masculinity. Ahhhh but not so fast. The climax of the film, the showdown with Khan, isn’t resolved with logic or cunning. Nope, it’s with good old fashioned testosterone as Spock, now in touch with his anger after a Wrath of Khan reversal and the death of Kirk, beats the shit out of him.

Speaking of Khan, while it’s awesome to have an intelligent woman of color featured so prominently in the film, the egregious whitewashing of Khan cannot be ignored. In Star Trek the Original Series and the film Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Khan Noonian Singh was a genetically engineered human augment, a product of the eugenics wars. As a Sikh from Northern India, he was a composite of a variety of ethnicities played by the charismatic Ricardo Montalban, aka one of the awesomest villains. Ever. But in Star Trek Into Darkness, it’s a white dude. Sure Benedict Cumberbatch does an okay job. But this racist whitewashing “is a slap in the face” to the audience as well as Gene Roddenberry’s vision of bringing people together from around the globe and galaxy “by a mission of exploration and diplomacy.”

So why am I going off on a tangent about Khan when this is an article about Uhura? Because the ancillary racism and sexism bolsters the film’s message. The original Star Trek series was groundbreaking in its depiction of gender and racial diversity and exploration of social issues. But we don’t live in the fucking 1960s anymore. JJ Abrams clearly doesn’t want to do anything different or “boldly going” anywhere when it comes to dismantling oppression and heralding diversity.

JJ Abrams created strong female characters in Alias (a female-centric series) and Lost, two of my favorite TV series. He showcased female friendship between Sydney and Francie, Sydney and Nadia, Kate and Claire, Kate and Sun. And Lost would have been female-centric too if the networks hadn’t made him change the leader of the survivors from Kate (whose character was more like Rose) to Jack. However, when you start to look at his treatment of characters of color, sadly most of them die on both shows. But in Star Trek Into Darkness, he seems a bit too concerned with harkening back to the good ole’ days of yore. You know, the ones filled with sexism and racism.

Uhura

Is Uhura empowered? Yes. But does it matter when all other women in the film are silenced, absent or objectified? Does it matter when she’s defined by her relationship to a man?

It’s strange in a film that objectifies women and defines them by their relationship to men, we simultaneously see an intelligent, decisive and opinionated Uhura. Aside from Uhura’s rank as a lieutenant, we see no women in leadership roles. No women captains, no women ambassadors, no women number ones (second in commands to captains). Uhura possesses no female friends. She doesn’t talk to a single woman at all. Not one. Not even underwear-clad Carol.

No, Star Trek Into Darkness can’t pass the fucking Bechdel Test but it doesn’t pass up the opportunity to show Kirk having a threesome. A fucking threesome. Because women are nothing more than fantasies and sex objects. Can’t forget he’s a lady-loving, bad-boy rules-breaking playboy. Now, I love Kirk in all his swagger and bravado too. But if we’re going to show women on-screen, can it please for-the-love-of-all-that-is-holy NOT just be women in their underwear? Can we please not just focus on dude’s friendships, sexual conquests, struggles and tribulations?

As actor and nerd icon Felicia Day says, by Star Trek Into Darkness not showcasing women, “we are telling people that only men are worth centering storytelling around, and that’s just bullshit.” As I’ve written before, the Bechdel Test matters because the overwhelming majority of movies fail, indicating the institutional sexism and rampant gender disparity prevalent in Hollywood.

Yes, Uhura rocks. And yes, she asserts her agency. But no matter how opinionated, smart and fabulous she is, the gains made by Uhura begin to erode when you factor in the incessant sexism swarming around.

As I’ve said time and again, if you depict your female characters, no matter how empowered, as only talking to men and not other women, it reinforces the notion that women’s lives revolve around men. Even when women possess agency and intelligence and a budding career, Star Trek Into Darkness perpetuates the trope that women are not complete or whole unless they’re helping a man, looking sexy for a man, or a man stands at their side.

Bearing the name of an iconic boundary-busting, visionary series, I expect more.

Is Pepper Potts No Longer the "Damsel in Distress" in ‘Iron Man 3’?

Movie poster for Iron Man 3

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: Lots of spoilers ahead!

Superhero films often exhibit assertive, outspoken female characters. Yet they often simultaneously objectify women’s bodies, reduce them to ancillary love interests or perpetuate gender stereotypes. So when I heard that Pepper Potts would have a more active role in Iron Man 3, I was excited yet remained cautiously skeptical.

Gwyneth Paltrow eagerly talked about putting on the Iron Man suit and getting tired of the “damsel in distress”:

“I was really hoping that Pepper would be more engaged in this movie…So I was really happy, not only that she was wearing the suit, but that you see her really on equal ground with Tony in their interpersonal dynamic, and as a CEO, and then she’s got all this action… I think in order to move things forward and keep it fresh, you can only be the damsel in distress for so long, and then it’s old.”

Producer and Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige also said they wanted to “play with the convention of the damsel in distress…there is fun to be had with “Is Pepper in danger or is Pepper the savior?” over the course of this movie.” Okay, okay, this all sounds awesome to me.

Now I’m all for subverting gender norms. But is Pepper really empowered? Or does she really remain a rearticulation of the Damsel in Distress trope?

When Pepper puts on the Iron Man suit, it’s not of her own volition. It’s not because she cleverly thought of it. Tony, who can now recall his arsenal of Iron Man suits on command, remotely puts it on Pepper to save her during an attack. Once she’s in the suit of armor, Pepper does make the most of it as she gets scientist Maya (who of course has to have had a sexual past with Tony) to safety and protects Tony from a falling ceiling as well.

Tony Stark

However, when Gwyneth Paltrow discussed putting on the suit, I envisioned an assertive move by Pepper — that she boldly decides to put on the armor so she can go out and save Tony. Not something she passively has placed on her body by a man. What could have been an interesting exploration of Pepper and gender becomes a wasted opportunity.

Just because Pepper donned the Iron Man suit for like two minutes, doesn’t mean she isn’t a “damsel in distress.” She still is for a majority of the film. Archvillian Aldrich Killian kidnaps Pepper and ties her up, using her as bait to lure Tony and blackmail him. Yep, that sounds like a passive damsel to me.

In Iron Man, Pepper is Tony’s personal assistant and according to him, his only true friend. In Iron Man 2, she becomes the CEO of Stark Industries. By The Avengers, they co-exist as a team, partners both in romance and work as Pepper helps Tony develop Stark Tower and the Arc Reactor. In each film, Pepper grows and progresses to have a more important role. So how did Pepper — Tony’s friend, partner and brilliant CEO of Stark Industries — get reduced to an objectified and victimized “damsel in distress” yet again?

Gwyneth Paltrow in Iron Man 3

Discussing the Damsel in Distress Trope in video games, although it’s also completely applicable for film too, Anita Sarkeesian at Feminist Frequency talks about how the trope provides incentive and motivation for the male protagonist. The trope is also a form of objectification and is not synonymous with “weak” but rather a form of disempowering women, even strong ones, while empowering men:

“So the damsel trope typically makes men the “subject” of the narratives while relegating women to the “object.” This is a form of objectification because as objects, damsel’ed women are being acted upon, most often becoming or reduced to a prize to be won, a treasure to be found or a goal to be achieved…The damsel in distress is not just a synonym for “weak,” instead it works by ripping away the power from female characters, even helpful or seemingly capable ones. No matter what we are told about their magical abilities, skills or strengths they are still ultimately captured or otherwise incapacitated and then must wait for rescue. Distilled down to its essence, the plot device works by trading the disempowerment of female characters FOR the empowerment of male characters.”

Surprisingly, as it revolves around Tony, Iron Man 3 passes the Bechdel Test. Huzzah! A brief conversation transpires between Pepper and Maya, the botanist who invented the Extremis virus. Maya laments being naïve about science, just wanting to help people and how her ideals became distorted. Pepper reassures her, telling her that Stark Industries once carried out military contracts so she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. What a nice moment. But don’t get too cozy. This moment of sisterly bonding shatters when Maya betrays Pepper. Sidebar, it’s interesting that Maya has a change of heart not after talking to Pepper but after talking to Tony later in the film.

There’s a telling exchange near the end of the film when Killian tells Tony he injected Pepper with the Extremis virus because he wanted to make Pepper perfect. Tony, ever the good boyfriend, retorts, “That’s where you’re wrong. She already was perfect.” This could have been a nice albeit clichéd message about accepting and appreciating people how they are, rather than trying to change them. But 5 minutes later, when Pepper asks if she’s going to be alright because she’s got the unstable virus in her, Tony says he’s going to “fix” her because that’s what he does, he “fixes things.” Ahhh the mechanic imagery strewn throughout the film comes full circle.

Gwyneth Paltrow in the Iron Man suit

It’s a strange juxtaposition between “she’s perfect the way she is” and “I’ll fix you,” especially in proximity to one another. This dialogue could have easily been altered to show Pepper’s agency — that either she wanted to keep the virus and harness the superpower or have it removed. We could have seen things from her perspective. But instead, it’s all to convey how Tony is decisive and protective of his woman and how he’s grown emotionally.

Taking place after The Avengers, we see a changed Tony Stark. Due to the stress of combating aliens and traveling through worm holes, Tony suffers anxiety, insomnia and PTSD. I was pleasantly surprised at the film’s respectful depiction of mental illness. Although its treatment of people with disabilities is abhorrent. We see the weight of Tony’s obsession creating Iron Man suits straining their relationship. Pepper is frustrated that his suits come before her. But they never resolve their issues. It’s as if Pepper said, “Oh I almost died, got injected with some fiery shit and now you fixed me? Okay, we’re good now!” Um, no.

So what’s the lesson here? Don’t worry, ladies. The right man will fix you and all your problems.

Pepper isn’t an empowered, self-actualized character in Iron Man 3. Instead she’s used as an object for the two dudes to fight over. She’s used to show that Killian is a villain who never really loved her while she’s used as an incentive for Tony to fight and to realize what truly matters in life. Tony and Killian battle it out with Pepper as a trophy to the victor, aka the better dude.

As film critic Scott Mendelson said: “For Potts, the movie was about other men giving her temporary agency/power and then quickly taking it away again.” Despite her intelligence and success, she possesses no agency of her own. Men bestowed power upon Pepper. Any power she appears to exert stems from men. Now some superheroes (Spiderman, Wolverine) have their powers given to them by others, either by accident or against their will. But once they have their powers, they decide what to do with them. They decide through their intelligence or cunning how best to utilize their powers. But Tony and Killian make all the decisions for Pepper. She doesn’t make any for herself. Pepper doesn’t choose to don the suit. Tony does. Killian decides to inject her with the Extremis virus that grants superhero powers. She doesn’t choose to keep the Extremis virus or have it removed. Tony decides to remove the virus. Even though she has a brief romp with superpowers and briefly kicks ass, Pepper somehow remains less empowered in Iron Man 3 than in the other films. Men decide her fate.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Pepper Potts in Iron Man 3

If the film really played with the conventions of a “damsel in distress,” rather than playing out every other superhero trope, Pepper wouldn’t have been kidnapped or if she had, she would have saved herself, rather than needing Tony’s rescue. At the film’s climax, we do see Pepper, injected with the Extremis virus, kick ass and save Tony. Oh and of course she does it in a skimpier, sexy outfit. So even in the shadow of empowerment, Pepper must be anchored as a sex object, intertwining power and sexuality. Again, it isn’t about Pepper’s growth and development. It’s about how Tony sees her.

While she acknowledges it “isn’t perfect on gender issues,” Alyssa Rosenberg posits that Iron Man 3’s “progressive gender play is noteworthy when you consider the kinds of roles actresses in superhero movies usually get stuck with.” But no, no it’s not progressive. Did we watch the same movie? Having women scientists and women CEOs in your film, while a good start, isn’t smashing gender stereotypes if you ultimately reinforce the same old tired gender tropes and clichés. It isn’t actually showcasing powerful women if you continually undercut women’s agency.

While action sequences are enjoyable, fighting is probably not what audiences find empowering. It’s characters’ decisiveness, assertiveness, ingenuity, struggle to survive — all of which can be conveyed through a visual manifestation of action sequences.

Sure, it was nice to see Pepper kicking ass. But let’s be clear here. Just because a female character wields a sword or shoots a gun or uses her fists to punch a villain, doesn’t automatically make her emotionally strong or empowered. Possessing agency to speak her mind, make her own decisions, chart her own course — these are what make a character truly empowered.

The problem with the Damsel in Distress trope is that it strips women of their power and insinuates that women need men to rescue or save them. And yet again it places the focus on men, reinforcing the notion that society revolves around men, not women.

Maybe I’m a greedy feminist but four minutes of ass-kicking does not automatically make an empowered female character shattering gender tropes, nor does it satiate my desire for a depiction of a nuanced, complex, strong female character. Sigh.

Nothing Can Save ‘The Walking Dead’s Sexist Woman Problem

Michonne in The Walking Dead

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: spoilers ahead!

So the season 3 finale of The Walking Dead. What can I say? Is there less sexism than last season’s appalling anti-abortion storyline with Lori’s pregnancy? Did the addition of badass Michonne change the gender dynamics?

I’m going to warn you right now. This post isn’t going to be pretty. Not with all the misogyny. When it comes to its female characters and depiction of gender, The Walking Deadhas progressively deteriorated. It incessantly pisses me off with its rearticulation of patriarchy and sexist gender tropes. And no, it’s not a commentary on patriarchy. Rather it’s a defense of hyper-masculinity.

I’ve written before about The Walking Dead’s shitty job portraying women and its depiction of sexist retro gender roles. I was finally excited when Michonne (Danai Gurira) arrived as we hadn’t witnessed a fierce woman in any leadership role yet. Finally, we would see a fearless, powerful, clever, complex female character. And a woman of color! Yet I remained skeptical due to the tissue thin female characters and all of the sexism contaminating the show in the previous two seasons. My prediction came true: Michonne couldn’t save the show’s sexism.

In the comics, Michonne is a fan favorite. She’s complex, interesting, with resiliency and strength. Sadly we get little of that same warrior woman in the TV series. Yes, she’s a badass. Yes, she’s adept with a sword. But that’s pretty much it.

Michonne enters the show in an aura of mystery. Cloaked, sword-wielding, holding the chains of two Walkers. But typically we need to see beneath the veneer in order to care about a character. But we haven’t been allowed in to her backstory at all. We need to see their vulnerabilities, weaknesses, struggles, hopes. Even awesome Daryl is given moments to shine, like when he grieves for his brother Merle or holds baby Judith, nicknaming her Little Ass-Kicker. The only time we witness anything of the sort in Michonne is when she holds Andrea (Laurie Holden) in a tender embrace in the finale — before Andrea commits suicide to avert zombiehood – and we get a glimpse in the episode when Michonne protects Carl and reveals to Rick that she hears voices too, letting him know he’s not alone.

When we first meet Michonne, she saves Andrea, serving as a “black caretaker,” perilously playing out the “Magical Negro” trope. Even her friendship with Andrea became a missed opportunity, barely explored, something Laurie Holden, the actor who plays Andrea, laments as well. Michonne is regarded with suspicion by Rick’s Prison Camp Crew, even though other people, like the inmates, were considered to be “one of them.” And yes, I’m aware that they eventually bestow this distinction onto Michonne as well. But only after Carl — a 13-year-old boy — says so. When a teenaged boy gets more respect than the grown-ass women??? Can’t. Even. Deal.

When it comes to the potential for female leaders, the series does have Michonne who not only survived alone but also saved Andrea. But why must Michonne have to prove her worth in relation to saving Andrea, Carl or Rick — all the white characters? Michonne essentially proves her worth not by being a strong survivor, not through intelligence, not through empathy — but by how she rescues and serves white people on the show.

So how were the other women depicted this season?

Andrea in The Walking Dead

I know Andrea pissed off a ton of people with her ridiculous decisions. She continually annoyed me…and I liked her! I mean, c’mon, am I really supposed to believe such a smart woman would make such stupid choices when it came to men? Choosing psychopaths Shane AND the Governor?? Oh wait, women do choose shitty dudes in real life. But the problem here isn’t that Andrea makes the worst romantic choices; I mean who hasn’t made horrendous decisions?

No, the problem is that Andrea’s life didn’t revolve around her friendship with Michonne, the woman who saved her, or her friendships with the people at the prison. Ultimately, the outspoken woman who strived to make the moral choice, a woman who was a lawyer before the zombie apocalypse, her life eventually revolved around dudes. Correction, in season 3, just one dude: The Governor. That’s right, the same dude who sexually assaulted another female character.

In probably the most heinous act of the season, in the episode “When the Dead Come Knocking,” Maggie (Lauren Cohan) and Glenn have been captured by the Governor. The Governor separates the two of them and interrogates Maggie alone. But his interrogation quickly dissolves into full on sexual assault. He terrorizes her. He forces her to undress. He bends her over and slams her against a table. He threatens her with rape. He uses intimidation and humiliation to exert his power and dominance.

Sexual assault should never be used as a plot device. What purpose did this incident serve? To show what an unhinged, misogynistic douchebag The Governor is? Perhaps. But it was completely unnecessary. And don’t tell me that Michonne is raped in the comics so what Maggie endures isn’t that big a deal because it was just the threat of rape. Yeah, it’s a big fucking deal. Women are raped and sexually assaulted and harassed daily. Our rape culture normalizes violence against women and conflates violence with sexuality.

It’s also interesting to note that the writers changed the sexual assault survivor from a black woman to a white woman. Too often, the media erases the narratives of black women rape and assault survivors, choosing to focus on white women survivors.

Maggie in The Walking Dead

Maggie started off last season so ballsy and opinionated. But she’s devolved as the show progresses to being fairly deferential to Glenn. If she became quieter, more withdrawn and introverted after the trauma of her sexual assault, that would make sense. But her passivity started happening long ago. Maggie, who was promoted to series regular this season, was given nothing of a storyline other than hot sex with Glenn and surviving the trauma of sexual assault. And we only get a brief moment where she lashes out at Glenn because of that trauma. The rest of the time, we see how it affects Glenn, not Maggie. As if it matters more how the Governor’s rape tendencies impact Glenn (the dude) more than Maggie, the one assaulted.

And the depiction of masculinity is problematic too. Glenn wasn’t “a real man” until he was tortured. And let’s not forget that Glenn is an Asian American man which plays into the pervasive stereotype that depicts Asian American men as emasculated in U.S. media.

But women aren’t just punished with sexual assault, but also by death. Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) doesn’t have a huge role this season. She argues with Rick and Carl and laments to Hershel that they hate her. She worries that something will go wrong and she’ll die in childbirth. Which she does. When she’s losing a lot of blood, she asks Maggie to perform a C-section, knowing she will bleed out. Then Lori is killed by her son, aka potential-sociopath-in-training Carl, so she won’t come back as a walker. Lori must be punished for her infidelity (and insipid annoyance) in the previous seasons. And so she dies. Shameful slut!

In addition to Lori’s death, we also have Andrea — who’s an excellent shot and warrior, and never would have gotten bit — bitten by Mitch. She then dies by a self-inflicted gunshot to the head so she won’t become a walker. Will Andrea’s death catalyze vulnerability in Michonne? Or will it be leveraged to show how Rick and the other dudes handle pain??

Now, I’m not saying that female characters can’t or shouldn’t die. It’s a zombie apocalypse. Of course there’s going to be brutal deaths. But when the women’s deaths exist as a vehicle to convey the pain of the men, that’s a problem.

Lori and Carl in The Walking Dead

What we’re witnessing with the women of The Walking Dead is the Women in Refrigerators Syndrome — women killed, raped, stripped of their power — in order to propel the plot and show the progression and struggles of the male characters. Also, as T.S. Christian told me on Twitter, in a Black Girl Nerds podcast, @TheRayVolution astutely asserted that women always die to illustrate the horrendous state of the world.

Again, it’s all about the men. The women, even the awesome ones, are nothing more than props to propel the male characters’ emotional journeys and transformations.

So what about the other women on the show? Thankfully, we’re starting to see Carol in a more assertive role. She speaks up and voices her opinion and seems to be more resourceful. We also meet Sasha, a good shot who teases her brother Tyreese. Oh yeah and then there’s the blond girl, Maggie’s sister, whose name I can’t even remember, that’s how unforgettable she is. Why? Because all she does is sing and hold the baby. Seriously.

None of the women are truly respected on the show. None of their opinions are valued or considered. When Rick has a problem, he confides in Hershel and Darryl. He listens to their advice. None of the women sway him. And of course none of the women lead, nor can we even consider them as leaders, as we saw when Glenn talked about how he was second in command. Um, okay.

So why can’t ladies lead in a post-apocalyptic world? Well according to Robert Kirkman, it’s science. I shit you not. In fact The Walking Dead comics creator and TV producer/writer said in an interview:

“I don’t mean to sound sexist, but as far as women have come over the last 40 years, you don’t really see a lot of women hunters. They’re still in the minority in the military, and there’s not a lot of female construction workers. I hope that’s not taken the wrong way. I think women are as smart, resourceful, and capable in most things as any man could be … but they are generally physically weaker. That’s science.”

Here’s a hint to all you mansplainers out there. It’s never, ever, ever a good idea to start your statement with “I don’t mean to sound sexist.” Why? Because clearly you’re about to drop some shit that is indeed sexist. So women remain a minority in the military and as construction workers because of science. You know, not because of sexist gender prejudices about women’s physical abilities. Right. Silly me. Why didn’t I think of science??? Must be because of my ladyparts.

Now to be fair, that interview was about the comics and it transpired 4 years ago. But as evidenced by the repetition of sexist tomfoolery in the TV series, which is interesting considering the depiction of women is much better in the comics, Kirkman obviously hasn’t changed his stance on gender. Nor have any of the other TV writers apparently. It explains so much.

Hmmm so which season is worse? The season 2 horrendous handling of emergency contraception and its anti-abortion plotline? Or is it Season 3 with sexual assault used as a plot device and women dying to propel men’s emotional journeys? It’s all bullshit.

It’s very apparent The Walking Dead doesn’t care about exploring gender dynamics in any meaningful way or deconstructing gender roles to explore societal limitations. And to an extent that’s fine. Not everything has to be some massive social commentary. Although believe me, I’d be delighted. But as I’ve written before, when you’re dealing in the realm of fantasy or playing with the bounds of reality, why depict sexism? Why not imagine something different?

And don’t even get me started on the idiotic argument, “Well, that’s life. That’s what would happen during an apocalypse of any kind.” I call bullshit. Am I really supposed to believe that if the shit hits the fan, women can’t or won’t be able to pull themselves together and not only survive but take leadership roles? Obviously that’s ludicrous.

With Robert Kirkman reinforcing the notion that sexism builds the foundation of the series, my hope that The Walking Dead will improve regarding its depiction of women, race and gender has shattered. So I’ll stop hoping it will get better and just keep on hate-watching it.

In ‘Game of Thrones’ the Mother of Dragons Is Taking Down the Patriarchy

While many women orchestrate machinations behind the scenes, no woman is openly a leader, boldly challenging patriarchy to rule. Except for one. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

Emilia Clarke as Daenerys in Game of Thrones

Written by Megan Kearns for our Infertility, Miscarriage and Infant Loss Week. | Warning: Spoilers ahead!

When I first wrote about Game of Thrones two years ago, I wrote about its vacillation between showcasing strong, intelligent female characters and its sexist objectification and misogynistic rape culture.

I received an exorbitant amount of comments on my criticism of the show — even though I simultaneously lauded its brilliant acting and interesting characters and dialogue. Some told me I didn’t understand anything about the show. Others told me to wait, just wait as it would get better. While the show suffers serious problems, particularly in its sexposition and depiction of graphic female nudity, as the show has progressed, it has indeed become more and more feminist.

We witness more of the women expressing their disdain for their lot in life due to their gender. We see women buck gender norms (Arya, Brienne, Yara Greyjoy) and we see women scheme to surreptitiously assert their power (Margaery Tyrell, Cersei Lannister, Olenna Redwyne) or even just to better their lot in life (Shae, Ros, Sansa).

While many women orchestrate machinations behind the scenes, no woman is openly a leader, boldly challenging patriarchy to rule. Except for one. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

When I first wrote about Dany (Emilia Clarke), I was captivated by her. She drew me in immediately and became my favorite character. I loved watching her transformation from meek and timid, bullied by her creepy brother Viserys, to a powerful yet kind-hearted Khaleesi (Queen). Each episode she grows more bold and assertive. Yet she continually strives to be fair and just. Watching her growth has been the most enjoyable aspect of the series.

Daenerys marries Khal Drogo in an arranged marriage in order to secure Viserys, rightful heir to the Iron Throne after the murder of their father the king, an army so he can claim the throne. Viserys uses Dany, telling her he would have all 40,000 Dothraki rape her if it garnered him an army. Nice guy.

After a rapey wedding night (Sorrynotsorry, fans. It is), Daenerys and Drogo eventually form a bond and fall in love with one another. (I know, I know, but bare with me). Dany grows more confident and assertive both with her sexuality and her authoritativeness in giving the khalasar (clan or tribe) commands. Months later, when Viserys hits her, she hits him back and tells him if he strikes her again, she will have his hands cut off.

When Dany becomes pregnant with a son, she eventually convinces her husband to cross the sea, something the Dothraki fear, in order to claim the Iron Throne and rule. Both Daenerys and Drogo believe their son Rhaego will be the heir to the throne, calling him the “Stallion Who Mounts the World,” because according to a Dothraki prophecy he will be a great khal (king) of khals, uniting the Dothraki as one khalasar (clan or tribe) and conquer the world.

Game of Thrones

After Khal Drogo’s khalasar conquer a village, Daenerys — growing more confident and outspoken — prevents the men from raping the enslaved women. When challenged by her husband, she boldly defends her decision, trying to advocate for the women’s rights. Rather than crediting his wife’s penchant for advocacy, Drogo tells her she grows fierce as their son grows in her womb, “filling her with fire.”

But after her husband has a wound, Mirri Maz Duur an enslaved shaman whose life Dany spares, treats his injury. Yet he falls deathly ill. Mirri tells Dany how to save him, by using blood magic, something forbidden by the Dothraki. Dany follows her instructions. Yet she goes into labor and passes out. When Dany awakens, her advisor Jorah tells her that her son was born dead and deformed with scales. She’s been “rewarded” by having Drogo a shell of his former self in a catatonic state. When Dany confronts the shaman, asking when she will be reunited with her husband, Mirri replies:

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”

Mirri’s spell took the life of Daenerys’ unborn son as revenge for the Dothraki attack on her village. Also inherent is an infertility curse, that Dany will not have any of her own children. She loses the lives of both her husband and her unborn child.

With nothing left to lose, Daenerys resolves to make a bold and drastic decision which showcases her resolve and empowerment. As Angela Smith wrote on bereaved mothers at Bitch Flicks:

“It’s not uncommon for women to feel empowered to make drastic changes after losing a child. They may, understandably, become far less tolerant of others due to the realization nobody at all can break them down any further than they’ve already been broken.”

Dany has one of her Khalasaar place 3 dragon eggs she was given as a wedding present on the pyre. As the fire burns, she steps into the flames, despite the protestations of Jorah. In the morning, a new day has dawned. Dany emerges from the ashes unharmed, and the eggs have hatched with the 3 dragons perched on her body.

Daenerys becomes the Mother of Dragons

But now that she has lost her son, Daenerys decides she will take the Iron Throne herself and rule the Seven Kingdoms. After all the men in her life — her husband, son and brother — have died, she claims the throne for her own.

Dany becomes the metaphorical phoenix rising from the ashes, purging the last vestiges of her former timidity to transition into her life as a powerful leader.

At the end of season one, I’ll admit I worried that her magical powers were somehow explaining away her awesomeness. But now I see that no, it’s merely to highlight the importance of her role in Game of Thrones — as a woman leader challenging sexism.

Daenerys is continually called the Mother of Dragons, spoken with awe and reverence. In many cases, women are allowed to lead or be ruthless as lioness mothers. And while Dany lost her son, and she may be cursed with infertility by Mirri, she still remains a mother figure. She envisions herself as the mother to her 3 dragons. In the second season’s episode “Prince of Winterfell,” Dany’s dragons are kidnapped in the city of Qarth. When Jorah tells her to abandon them, that they are not her children, and escape, Dany replies:

“A mother does not flee without her children…They are my children, and they are the only children I will everhave.”

Daenerys risks her life to save her dragons, and they save her life and free her when she’s captured as well. The mysterious masked woman Quaithe tells Jorah that “dragons are fire made flesh…and fire is power.” Daenerys has given birth to power. Power contains a duality – it can subjugate and torment or it can crush oppression and yield justice.

Speaking with confident assuredness, Daenerys tells those that doubt her:

“When my dragons are grown, we will take back what was stolen from me and destroy those who have wronged me! We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground!…I will take what is mine, with fire and blood!”

In season 3, after having survived the treacheries in the city of Qarth, Daenerys looks to procure an army in the city of Astapor in order to take the Iron Throne. Despite her steeliness, she has not lost her kindness. She tries to give water to a dying slave. She doesn’t hide her horror and disgust during negotiations when she hears that murdering a newborn in front of the infant’s mother is a component of the training for the highly skilled slave warriors, the Unsullied. To her advisors, she expresses her unease over buying slaves for an army. She doesn’t want the “blood of innocents” on her hands.

Daenerys with advisors Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Selmy

In last week’s episode “And Now His Watch Is Ended,” Game of Thrones turned a corner in perhaps the most feminist episode of the series.

Daenerys makes a trade for all 8,000 Unsullied warriors, appearing as if she’s going to give up her dragon Drogon to make the exchange. But it’s all a ruse. When the brutal slaver Kraznys — who has insulted Dany with sexist, slut-shaming insults, erroneously thinking she didn’t understand the Valeryian language — is irritated that her dragon doesn’t obey him, she retorts that of course he doesn’t, “a dragon is a not a slave.” Dany then orders the Unsullied, now in her command, to murder the slavers and break the chains off the slaves. She frees the enslaved warriors, asking them to fight for her as free men. Daenerys then drops the whip equating ownership of the slaves. In essence, she drops the symbolic weapon of tyranny and oppression, heralding rebellion.

If there was ever any question, Daenerys is clearly here to dismantle the patriarchy.

Not only is she a woman leader, her very existence challenging the status quo. But Daenerys openly questions and challenges patriarchal norms. She refuses to abide by societal gender limitations mandating men must rule. She’s determined to forge a different path. Rather than follow in the footsteps of leaders embodying toxic masculinity, she’s determined to rule through respect, kindness and fairness — not through intimidation or fear. Daenerys refuses to enslave people. She wants to emancipate them.

The Mother of Dragons cares for the dragons as if they were her own babies. Could it be that Daenerys will become the archetypal mother of humanity? Perhaps. She’s wielding justice, crushing oppression and protecting the weak. Yet it is the loss of her son that enables Daenerys to envision herself in the role of leader. No longer is she supporting a man to be a great leader. She has become that leader.

The princess has become a queen.

Dany being a badass. Boom.

‘How I Met Your Mother’ One of the Few TV Shows to Explore a Childfree Life for Women

Written by Megan Kearns as part of our Infertility, Miscarriage and Infant Loss Week. Originally published at The Opinioness of the World. Cross-posted with permission.

I was ready. Poised to be pissed. For the first half of last season’s How I Met Your Mother (HIMYM) episode “Symphony of Illumination,” I sat on the couch, scowling perpetually.

In the previous episode “The Rebound Girl,” we learn journalist Robin Scherbatsky (Cobie Smulders) and playboy Barney Stinson (Neil Patrick Harris)’s adulterous one night stand (although is it really a one night stand if you’ve slept together and dated before?? But I digress…), resulted in Robin telling Barney she was pregnant.

Throughout the entire series, Robin has proudly declared she never wanted kids. In all 7 seasons of Ted’s monologues to his children about how he met their mother, Ted has never once mentioned Robin having children. Nada. Zero. Zilch.

Would Robin have an abortion? Would her pregnancy be a false alarm? As abortions are a common medical procedure yet rarely seen in movies or TV shows, I was hoping for an abortion storyline. But I knew that if Robin was in fact pregnant, the writers would give her a child. So when Monday’s episode opened with Robin narrating to her future kids, I was bullshit.

Why the fuck does EVERY woman in movies and TV series want children?! Ugh.

As an unmarried woman in her 30s with no children, I’ve chosen to not get married and not have children. I’ve never really wanted them. Yet I’ve been told repeatedly (I cannot stress repeatedly enough) that I will eventually change my mind and have children. As if my choice is some cute and trendy passing phase. It’s the same bullshit response I’ve received from ignorant peeps when they find out I’m vegan. Oh, you’ll start eating meat or at least dairy some day. Oh, you’ll start having babies one day. Gee, thanks for enlightening me about MY life choices, asshole.

Now, I’ll admit that as I creep ever so closely to 35, my biological clock (god I hate that term but it does fit here) has been softly ticking. I know the statistics. My chances of having children drop substantially after age 35. In last week’s episode”Symphony of Illumination,” Robin struggles with this very same dilemma when she discovers not only is she not pregnant, she can’t have children. At first she’s relieved. But then she starts to mourn her infertility.

Instead of telling her friends the truth, Robin tells them she just learned she can’t be an Olympic pole vaulter. Later, when best friend Lily asks if she’s alright, Robin tells her she’s taking the news harder than she thought. Lily asks her if she ever even wanted to be a “pole vaulter.” Robin explains:

“No, I was always adamantly against having a pole vaulting career, even though it’s what most women want…In Canada, it’s very big up there. You know, it’s meet a nice guy, get married, vault some poles. But I never wanted that.

Of course it’s one thing not to want something. It’s another to be told you can’t have it. I guess it’s just nice knowing that you could someday do it if you changed your mind. But now, all of a sudden that door is closed.”

Later, Robin reveals:

“So I can’t have kids. Big deal. Now there’s no one to hold me back in life. No one to keep me from traveling where I want to travel. No one getting in the way of my career. If you want to know the truth of it, I’m glad you guys don’t exist. Really glad.”

Robin had been telling her story to imaginary kids. At the end of the bittersweet episode, Ted narrates that Robin never did become a “pole vaulter.” She became “a famous journalist, a successful businesswoman, a world traveler” and briefly a bull fighter…”but she was never alone.”

These scenes broke my heart. Tears streamed down my face (yes, I’m a weeper). I was sad Robin couldn’t have children. But a wave of relief washed over me. FINALLY, a TV series depicted a female character choosing a different path.

The HIMYM writers could have had Robin become a parent through adoption instead like Monica and Chandler on Friends and Carrie and Doug on King of Queens. Robin laments her infertility not because she wanted children. But because her choice, the choice to change her mind, was taken away. It’s one thing to not want something. But it’s quite another when the possibility of that thing that you didn’t even want is gone. Robin’s dialogue – her worries, her hopes, her fears – eerily echoed my own.

What if I wake up one day and regret my decision? What if I want a daughter or son to read to, cook vegan food for, play games with, take to museums, teach feminism to (hey, it could happen)? But what if I don’t? Do I want to uproot my entire life? Wouldn’t my life be just as complete if I never have kids? Yep. It would. And therein lies my problem with the media.

Through movies, TV series and ads, the media perpetually tells us all women want children. If they don’t, they must be damaged, deluding themselves or they just haven’t found the right man yet. Because you know silly ladies, our lives revolve around men. Tabloid magazines repeatedly report on female actors’ baby bumps. As Susan J. Douglas argues in Enlightened Sexism, “bump patrols” reduce women to their reproductive organs, reinforcing the stereotype that women aren’t real women unless they procreate.

Now, please don’t mistake me. If you’re a woman (or man) who wants kids or has kids, congrats. Mazel Tov. Seriously. I love my friends’ children. I love seeing their cute pics online. I love playing with them…and giving them back at the end of the day. Children are adorbs (sometimes) with their rambunctious spirits, incessant questions and inquisitive natures. But not everyone wants kids. And that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you if you don’t.

Choosing to be childfree is on the rise as 1 in 5 women (up from 1 in 10 in the 70s) in their 40s doesn’t have a child. But you wouldn’t know it from watching TV. The only TV shows that come to mind where a female character questions whether or not to have children and chooses not to are Samantha on Sex and the City, Elaine on Seinfeld, Emily on The Bob Newhart Show, Jane Timony on Prime Suspect (the original with Helen Mirren) and Christina Yang on Grey’s Anatomy.

Jessica Grose at Slate points out Whitney differs from HIMYM in its portrayal of a woman questioning her child-free choice. Independent Whitney doesn’t want to get married or have children. But in the episode “Up All Night,” she completely reverses her position and concedes once she discovers having no kids is a deal-breaker for her boyfriend Alex. The message is that Whitney “has to agree to consider all the trappings of traditional womanhood” to be considered “a person.”

HIMYM suffers many gender problems. Yes, it infuriated me Lily received so much backlash when she went to LA to pursue her dream of an art career. Almost everything Barney says or does – his sexist stereotypes, objectification of women, and fat-shaming – pisses me off. And yes, it bugs me that Robin’s unconventional female personality of Scotch drinking, hockey loving, cigar smoking and gun ownership has been pinned on her father raising her as a boy…even going so far as to name her Robin Charles Scherbatsky, Jr. But the show hasn’t fallen into the sexist trap that a woman isn’t a “real” woman without a baby.

When Ted shares with his kids (and us the audience) that Robin never had children, he highlights the full life she led. Her life wasn’t empty because she didn’t become a mother. Women are socialized to want to get married and have babies. But what if you don’t want babies? Is something wrong with you? Or is something wrong with the system reinforcing the notion that all women want to be moms?

Ladies, you’re not broken, incomplete, unfeminine or any other nonsensical bullshit if you choose not to have children. Whatever you decide, whatever is right for you…well, that’s just fabulous. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Quote of the Day: Mister Rogers’ Inspiring Message Amidst Tragedy

Still from Mister Rogers

Written by Megan Kearns.

I live in Boston. Yesterday’s bombings at the Boston Marathon rocked the beautiful city I call home.

I spent the day tweeting, Facebooking, texting and calling — getting out information and checking in on loved ones. I experienced a range of emotions from shock, panic, worry and waves of relief after hearing people I knew were safe. I woke up with a grateful yet heavy heart this morning, still drained.

But helping me get through it all is hearing about the bravery of first responders, doctors, police officers and “ordinary” people who ran toward the blast and helped those in need. It’s been humbling reading about the random acts of kindness transforming people into heroes, strangers into community. Thank you to all the amazing people making a difference. Thank you to people donating blood and offering their homes to those displaced. Thank you to everyone who’s expressed concern, who’s said they stand with Boston or that their hearts go out to Boston. We appreciate your support and solidarity more than you know.

Believe it or not, the words of Mister Rogers are also helping me get through this tragedy:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.”

Media impacts our daily lives in ways seen and unseen. It entertains and educates. It infuriates and inspires. And sometimes, it can even help us heal.

Thank you, Mister Rogers. Thank you.

No, ‘Oz the Great and Powerful,’ We Don’t Need More Male-Centric Fairy Tales

Written by Megan Kearns.

After seeing Oz the Great and Powerful, I was annoyed. And angry.

Everything in the film revolves around one dude: James Franco as Oscar Diggs aka Oz. Bleh. It’s a patriarchal dream come true.

Women in the film fawn over Oz, swoon over him, make googly eyes at him, get enraged by him and arguably wreck their lives because of him. Glinda (Michelle Williams), Evanora (Rachel Weisz) and Theodora (Mila Kunis) all repeat throughout the film that Oz is there to save them. Even after Glinda who’s wise to his shenanigans, knows he’s not really a wizard, she still perpetuates the façade that he’s a savior, the one person who will bring the land salvation. Oz literally puts a female character, the broken China Girl, back together. Oz catalyzes Theodora’s destructive transformation from naïve and sweet, albeit with a quick temper, to heartless and wicked. Oh and of course we get women pitted against each other. Just for funsies.

The film is boring and vapid. The tissue-thin characters lack depth, wasting the tremendous talents of Rachel Weisz, Michelle Williams and Mila Kunis. Hideous gender stereotypes get tossed around. In her fantastic review, Natalie Wilson points out the film’s many weaknesses, including reinforcing the trope that women are wicked and erasing the feminism of the books.

One of the reasons that made Wicked and The Wizard of Ozso special — they focus on the women for a change. As Bitch Flicks writer Myrna Waldron astutely points out, the Oz series boasts powerful women in leadership roles. The women aren’t princesses (aside from Princess Ozma in the books of course). The women are either “ordinary” or witches, dismantling the “all witches are evil” trope. The women in Oz lead, give advice, scheme, make decisions on their own, go on journeys, forge friendships. They may work cooperatively with men but they don’t sit around and wait for men to save them.

So how did this happen? How did a female-centric, feminist series devolve into male pandering? It comes down to an aspect of the film’s production that to the best of my knowledge I haven’t seen anyone else raise: the need for “a fairy tale with a good strong male protagonist.”

Producer Joe Roth — who didn’t realize The Wizard of Oz was just the first in a series of 14 books, — shares what drew him to develop Oz the Great and Powerful:

“When [screenwriter] Mitchell [Kapner] starts talking about that man behind the curtain and how he got there, this storyline immediately strikes me as a great idea for a movie for a couple of reasons. One was because I love The Wizard of Oz. But this character is only in the last few minutes of that film and we have no idea who he is.

“And the second reason was — during the years that I spent running Walt Disney Studios — I learned about how hard it was to find a fairy tale with a good strong male protagonist. You’ve got your Sleeping Beauties, your Cinderellas and your Alices. But a fairy tale with a male protagonist is very hard to come by. But with the origin story of the Wizard of Oz, here was a fairy tale story with a natural male protagonist. Which is why I knew that this was an idea for a movie that was genuinely worth pursuing.”

So only films with a “natural male protagonist” are worth pursuing? Roth has also produced Alice in Wonderland, Snow White and the Huntsman and the upcoming Angelina Jolie film Maleficent – all female-centric fairy-tale films. So maybe he’s tired of all the ladies. And of course he can personally pursue any story he wants. But to take such an iconic series with a plucky female protagonist, full of complex female characters and a female ruler (Ozma) and then strip it of its female empowerment and nuance all to focus on a dude?? Stop. Just stop.

What’s great about Dorothy is she’s not a princess. She’s a “regular” girl on a quest and an emotional journey, something we too often see men and boys embark on. Now I understand if they didn’t want to rival the Judy Garland classic. But why not film one of the other books in the series? Or why not film the musical Wicked, a story revolving around the bonds of female friendship?

So what about Roth’s assertion, that it’s difficult to find male leads in fairy tale films? Nope, it’s really not that hard. Jack the Giant Slayer, Shrek, Aladdin, Mickey and the Beanstalk, Pinocchio, Peter Pan, The Sword in the Stone, Hercules, hell even Beauty and the Beast all feature male leads in fairy tale films.

As I’ve written before when I wrote about my excitement for Brave, too many children’s films, particularly animated films, don’t feature girls and women in leading roles. “Originally titled Rapunzel, Disney’s Tangled, the most recent animated film featuring a girl, was renamed a gender-neutral title to be less girl-centric. Its marketing didn’t just focus on Rapunzel but featured “bad-boy” thief Flynn Ryder in order to lure a male audience. Male characters dominate animated films.” Wreck-It Ralph, Ice Age, Rango, Kung Fu Panda and aside from Bravethe entire pantheon of Pixar’s films (Toy Story, Up, Wall-E, etc.), put male roles front and center.

As of 2010, “family films exhibited a gender disparity as only 29% of speaking roles belonged to female characters in the top grossing films within the past few years.” Superhero films (Spiderman, Iron Man, Batman, The Avengers aside from Black Widow), and swashbuckling adventures (Pirates of the Caribbean, Star Wars) — all with huge audiences of children — also feature male protagonists. Most movies for kids are just sexism in training.

In fairy tale films, the female characters we do see are princesses (Brave, Snow White and the Huntsman, The Little Mermaid, The Princess and the Frog, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty). While there’s nothing wrong with having characters as princesses — and with Brave we got a huge step for female empowerment — as a collective they contribute to princess culture. Princess culture typically celebrates female objectification, reifying the stereotype that women’s and girls’ worth should be tied to their beauty. It also perpetuates the pressure of perfection — women and girls must be everything to everyone. And princess culture follows girls into womanhood with wedding obsessions and the fairy tale myth of finding Prince Charming.

In too many films for both children and adults, female characters’ fall into tropes of damsels in distress, femme fatales, and manic pixie dream girls. Their stories often revolve around men, just like in Oz. The women talk about men. They wax about finding love. They yearn to be rescued, looking to men to fix their lives.

With the pervasive lack of female protagonists, media implies that girls and women don’t matter. It teaches girls they should serve as supporting roles in real life, rather than lead themselves. In a film with three powerful sorceresses, the message shouldn’t be that a “good man” can save us all.

So no, we don’t need any more films, fairy-tale or otherwise, revolving around men.

It’s Our 5-Year Blogiversary!

BF co-founders Steph and Amber at the 2010 Athena Film Festival

We can’t believe it, but today marks five years since we started Bitch Flicks.

In March 2008, we started a blog with the wink-and-a-nudge name, Bitch Flicks. In that first year, we wrote a whopping seventeen posts, eight of which were actual film reviews.

In 2012 we published 557 posts–and “we” consisted of a dozen people, not to mention numerous guest writers.

We want to thank our Editor and Staff Writer Megan Kearns.

We want to thank our staff writers: Erin Fenner, Robin Hitchcock, Leigh Kolb, Carrie Nelson, Rachel Redfern, Amanda Rodriguez, Lady T, Max Thornton, and Myrna Waldron.

We want to thank everyone who has ever contributed to Bitch Flicks, whether by writing a post, designing a logo, donating, commenting, or sharing a piece you read with someone else.

Everyone mentioned here has been a part of what has made this project continue.

Finally, we want to thank every one of you reading this–and we hope you’ll stay with us in years to come.

–Steph and Amber

Foreign Film Week: Female Empowerment, a Critique of Patriarchy…Is ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ the Most Feminist Action Film Ever?

Written by Megan Kearns. | Warning: Spoilers ahead

Can an action film portray exquisitely choreographed fighting scenes, badass fully dimensional ladies, tragic romantic love and make a searing social statement? Yes, yes, yes. One of my favorite films, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is an undoubtedly feminist action film with a potent gender commentary woven throughout.

In Ang Lee’s lyrical, Oscar-winning wuxia masterpiece, the lives of 3 women warriors are embroiled in the quest for a prized missing sword. Easily labeled a feminist film with its “slant on feminist empowerment,” Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon “advances a revolutionary agenda of female equality.”

Shu Lien (the amazing Michelle Yeoh), a famous warrior, exudes a quiet strength and dignity. She knows her abilities and what she wants. Yet she feels bound by duty, loyalty and patriarchal norms, unable to follow her heart. A governess by day, a thief and murderer by night, the bitter and vengeful Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei) frantically wants control. She’s filled with fury and vengeance over her denial to learn the ways of the revered Wudang skills due to her gender. Zhang Ziyi as Jen, a governor’s daughter and secret protégé of Jade Fox, steals the show. Fiery, impetuous, strong-willed, she’s a fierce warrior, desperate to break the chains of gendered aristocratic expectations placed on her by her family and society. Whether her lover, a friend or a warrior she admires, Jen stubbornly refuses to yield, obey or acquiesce to anyone. More than anything, she wants to make her own decisions, to live her own life.

While Li Mu Bei (Chow Yun Fat), a dude, is considered the most respected warrior, women are unquestioned in their capacity to be skilled warriors. A man who just had a baby girl says he hopes his daughter will be half as strong as Shu Lien. But while women are respected and admired, society simultaneously expects them to obey certain norms.

Jen strives to live the life of a warrior. She doesn’t want to be shackled by an arranged marriage. Jade Fox wants power and to rule, to not let her gender hold her back. Jen and Shu Lien both yearn for freedom, to freely love who they choose. But sexist patriarchy holds each woman back from attaining what each desires.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon continually questions stereotypical gender roles for women.

Jen laments her monotonous future as an aristocratic wife with both Shu Lien and Jade Fox. She must marry into a noble family in order to boost her father’s business. Jen says she hasn’t yet lived the life she wants. Jen reveals to Shu Lien how she envies her life, even though Shu Lien explains it’s not as romantic as it seems:

Jen: “It must be exciting to be a fighter: to be totally free.”
Shu Lien: “Fighters have rules too: friendship, trust, integrity. Without rules, we wouldn’t survive long.”

Jen craves a sisterhood between her and Shu Lien. The two discuss gender and marriage and how society views it as “the most important step in a woman’s life.” Jen questions if Shu Lien is married and then realizes that if she “probably couldn’t roam around freely” if she was a wife. Jen says to Shu Lien:

“I wish I were like the heroes in the books I read, like you and Li Mu Bai. I guess I’m happy to be marrying. But to be free to live my own life, to choose whom I love, that is true happiness.”

Jen thinks the key to her freedom is in remaining unwed and following the warrior’s path. But Shu Lien shares her own pain of thwarted love. Due to her warrior duties, she did not want to dishonor the memory of her murdered fiancé and pursue her love for Li Mu Bai:

“So the freedom you talk about, I too desire it. But I have never tasted it.”

Jade Fox’s gender, that she’s a female criminal, surprises people. Like Jen and Shu Lien, Jade Fox also bemoans the sexist constraints placed on her not being allowed to pursue her career. So she took matters into her own hands and stole the precious Wudang secrets. When Li Mu Bei confronts Jade Fox for her thievery and for murdering his master, she says:

“Your master underestimated us women. Sure, he’d sleep with me but he would never teach me. He deserved to die by a woman’s hand!”

In her eyes, she was good enough to fuck but not good enough to be an equal.

Women are expected to enter marriage, to strive to be wives and mothers. Societal norms dictate women should be nurturing and gentle, women should support the men in their life and they shouldn’t be too outspoken or too unruly. If they transgress these societal norms, they’re often punished. But here, we see the women speak out and push back against the hypocrisy and strains of sexism. We witness a delicate balance exists of respecting tradition while pursuing personal happiness and fulfillment, along with continued resistance to patriarchal norms.

Feminema’s Didion discusses the film’s “overwhelming” and “explicit” feminism:

“So that’s the first thing: the contrast of the yearning, reserved restraint of Yeoh/Chow, and the woo-hoo! of Zheng/Chang. The second thing is the feminism, which is so overwhelming and explicit I can’t believe no one made much of it at the time. And it’s not just that the fight sequences always feature women — who win — nor that the best sequence faces off Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi in the very best, funniest, most exciting matchup ever. The heart of the story relies on the fact that its three main female characters (Jen, Shu Lien, and Jen’s governess, Jade Fox) have each been foiled in their attempts to live as they desire because they are women. Each takes a different approach in response, and they inevitably find themselves in opposition with one another as well as with men.”

As Didion points out, the women all end up opposing one another. It’s interesting in the beginning of the film, Jen starts off as friends with both of the other women. Jade Fox mentors her and she yearns to forge a friendship with Shu Lien and emulate her life. Eventually all women are at odds with each other. Jen feels betrayed by Shu Lien that she wants her to return to her parents. Shu Lien is disappointed with Jen as she’s unappreciative of her support, Shu Lien and Jade Fox are at odds. Jade Fox feels jealousy and betrayal after she discovers Jen hid her talents in combat, particularly because she was the older mentor, the supposed wiser one bestowing knowledge, not the other way around.

Despite the fighting and rivalries, it never felt catty in the typical way the media depicts women as tearing each other down. Rather it feels like an indictment of sexist patriarchy that wants to pit women against each other. It’s up to us women to remember to nurture and support one another.

Based on a novel, Lee said it’s “one of the rare cases where we take the emotional tour with the women. We take their point of view, and they get to carry the story.” But while he calls martial arts a “very male-dominant” and “macho genre,” actor Michelle Yeoh offers a different perspective. When asked about Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon called a “feminist martial arts film” and “the role of women,” Yeoh said:

“If you read a lot of Chinese literature, there has always been very strong women figures — warriors, swordswomen — who defended honor and loyalty with the men. So it’s not new to our culture, it’s always been very much a part of it. It’s good that now the Western audience would have a different image of the Chinese women. Where for a while, it was very stereotypical — the demure, very quiet, strong in a very silent way.”

The film runs shows 3 strong, assertive, outspoken women – which counters Western media’s pervasive stereotypes of Asian women as docile and subservient.

In theory, women action heroes break that mold. But in reality, most female film characters don’t shatter gender stereotypes, ultimately succumbing to stereotypical gender roles. As researcher Katy Gilpatric discovered, women in action movies rarely lead as heroes, usually serving as props to the male protagonists, and serving as love interests. She also found women often meet their death, frequently by self-sacrifice, by the end of an action film.

But in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, the women are the stars. And not just one woman. 3 women. Of different ages and different socio-economic statuses. Sure, there are men, romance and star-crossed lovers. But the female characters aren’t objectified for the male gaze or reduced to their sexuality. The women don’t sacrifice their identities in order to love or be in romantic relationships.

I don’t automatically find female action characters empowering. I find assertive, intelligent, self-reliant, female survivors empowering, whether they strap on a gun or wield a sword or not. But what makes these female characters and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon so feminist? We see their stories, their perspectives. We also get an indictment of patriarchy and a staunch argument in favor of gender equality.

Li Mu Bai calls Jen a dragon, and Jen refers to herself this way as well. On the symbolic color of green, director Ang Lee said that “anything green is hidden dragon, desires and repression…” The film is about repressing your desires — the pain it causes when you do (Shu Lien and Li Mu Bai) and the price you pay if you don’t (Jen). Jen runs away and steals the Green Destiny sword, calling herself the “Invincible Sword Goddess,” defeating a slew of dudes in the process. She taps into her hidden desires and literally wields and shapes her own destiny.

Li Mu Bai realizes the capacity of Jen’s skills and wants to train her in the Wudang way. When Shu Lien reminds him that they don’t accept women, he says they will have to make an exception. Li Mu Bai, who has also felt trapped by his duty and honor, impeding him from following his heart and confessing his love for Shu Lien, finally realizes the ridiculousness of stereotypical gender roles.

You can interpret the ambiguous ending — Jen leaping off the balcony over a cliff — as Jen committing suicide, unable to bear the thought of the damage her yearning for freedom has wreaked. Lo, Jen’s lover, tells her a story about a boy who made a wish and it came true after he leapt off the side of a cliff because his heart was true.

But I never saw the ending as her suicide. I saw it as Jen’s liberation. Jen’s choice conveyed her refusal to be tied down, her transcendental awakening rejecting society’s gender norms and patriarchy and embracing her individualism. She refused to live a life of obedience. She wanted to follow her heart and live life on her own terms. But Jen also realized that if she was the wife of a nobleman or perhaps even the wife of a rebel, she would still be immersed in patriarchy. Even if Jen and Lo reunite — his wish — she won’t be a docile, servile wife. She will be her own person.

But Jen also learned that she didn’t want to turn her back on female camaraderie, refusing Shu Lien’s help, the way her mentor Jade Fox turned on her through betrayal. Jen’s initial shunning of sisterhood ultimately led to Li Mu Bai’s death.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon focuses on the lives of different women on different paths with parallel obstacles. Ultimately, each woman forges her own path. When Shu Lien and Jen reconcile at the end, she doesn’t advise Jen to be loyal or obedient. She tells her that no matter what, Jen should remain true to herself. And that’s precisely what Jen does.

Ultimately, the film argues that sexist gender roles trap us all. Sexism remains a toxic barrier to happiness and enlightenment. And that’s what makes this film so empowering. Women must be true to themselves in order to achieve freedom and happiness.