Tag: Megan Kearns

Foreign Film Week: ‘Lemon Tree’ Unites Two Women from Palestine and Israel

Written by Megan Kearns. Originally published at The Opinioness of the World. Cross-posted with permission.

Arab culture has always captivated me. In college, I took classes on gender and Islam, Arab women’s movements and Middle Eastern History — classes which opened my eyes to diverse cultures and perspectives. People possess passionate opinions about the ongoing conflict between Palestine and Israel. With so much chaos and oppression, observers as well as those personally involved may not truly comprehend the other side’s plight.

The film Etz Limon (Lemon Tree) attempts to bridge the divide and present both sides of the story through two women’s lives.

Starring the always powerful Hiam Abass (The Visitor, Amreeka), she effortlessly exudes dignity and grace no matter the role. She captivates the audience, fully expressing her thoughts and feelings with her eyes, never having to utter a word. Abass won several awards, including Best Actress Award of the Israeli Film Academy, for her portrayal of Salma Zidane, a Palestinian widow who tends a lemon grove that’s been in her family for generations.

When the new Israeli Defense Minister moves in next door to her (on the Israeli side of the border) with his wife, Mira Navon (Rona Lipaz-Michael), the Secret Service advises him that the lemon trees are a security risk. Fearing a sniper could be obscured by the trees, the Defense Minister orders Salma to cut them down.

Salma (Hiam Abass) in Lemon Tree

A woman who’s lost her husband, who’s children have grown up and moved away, Salma is not about to lose her source of income nor her identity. With quiet yet fierce determination, she enlists the help of a young lawyer to fight the court order. Her decision to go against the State of Israel sends ripples throughout the lives of those involved.

Simultaneously, Mira faces her own struggle as she attempts to adapt to life in her new home and her new role as a politician’s wife. She’s often in solitude as her daughters are married, her son lives in the U.S. and her husband is preoccupied with his career. She ultimately becomes an unlikely ally in Salma’s crusade. As the court case gains more notoriety, Mira gives interviews speaking in favor of Salma, defying her husband, much to his chagrin.

Mira (Rona Lipaz-Michael) in Lemon Tree

Directed by Eran Riklas (The Syrian Bride), this beautiful and understated film, based on a true story, simultaneously conveys the daily oppression of the Palestinians as well as the fears of the Israelis. Discussing the film, Riklas said,

“The Middle East is constantly changing although when you really think about it, perhaps it isn’t…hope, optimism, pessimism, breakthroughs, new horizons, a new day, the future, the past – all words used on a regular basis to describe the situation in a region that has seen it all. Trees have always been around to witness what mankind has been doing…this is really a film about solitude as it is reflected in the lives of the two women – Salma on the Palestinian side and Mira, the Defense Minister’s wife, on the Israeli one…as well as all the other characters involved who somehow represent so many issues and subjects but all of them suffer from a kind of loneliness which is part of their lives on a personal and national level.”

I was pleasantly surprised at Lemon Tree‘s balanced treatment of both Palestinian and Israeli perspectives, considering the volatile and intertwined history of religion and bloodshed. No stereotypes exist here. No judgments passed on who’s right and who’s wrong.

While not originally intended as a feminist film, Lemon Tree ultimately is as we see the world through each woman’s eyes — we see their battles, their journeys. Too often, there’s a fallacious stereotype that exists in the U.S. that women in the Middle East are passive or subservient. Not true. In the film, both Salma and Mira find their voice and fight for what they believe.

Salma and Mira are both neighbors and mothers. Two separate scenes in the film show each woman climbing over the wire fence to the other side’s border, perhaps symbolizing their ensuing empathy for each other and their desire for liberation. Separated by language and the physical wall between Palestine and Israel, Salma and Mira remain united in their bond of compassion and respect for each other.

Each woman contends with loneliness as they find their inner strength, striving to navigate their lives in the constraints of their imposed physical and emotional boundaries. Each woman struggles to literally and metaphorically tear down confining walls with the hope of achieving freedom and peace.

WAM! It Yourself Conference for Feminist Media Makers

Written by Megan Kearns.

As you could have probably guessed, I’m obsessed with feminist media. Not only do I write about gender, race and class here at Bitch Flicks, but also at my own blog and for Fem2pt0. I pretty much eat, sleep, and breathe film and television and deconstructing gender analysis. I incessantly talk online and in real life about female characters, the Bechdel Test, the need for more female filmmakers, and for greater diversity of roles on-screen. And yes, I’m constantly telling my friends about women-centric and women-directed films they must see.

So I’m thrilled that WAM! (Women, Action, & the Media), is hosting their 4th annual WAM! NYC Feminist Media Conference on Saturday, March 23, 9am – 5pm at The Hive at 55, 55 Broad St. Founded in 2004 with the amazing activist Jaclyn Friedman as Executive Director, WAM! is “an independent national nonprofit dedicated to building a robust, effective, inclusive movement for gender justice in media.”

Here’s a description of the conference from WAM!’s website:

“Are you feminist journalist or media activist? Love creating, consuming and critiquing race, gender, and class in media? Want to learn more tools, strategies and ideas to do your work better and meet other print, online, multimedia journalists and activists doing awesome work.”

Speakers include feminist media powerhouses Gloria Feldt, Quinn Heraty, Jina Moore, Lauren Wolfe, Jenn Pozner and Deanna Zandt. Panels include:

  • Diversity and Justice in Media Representation
  • Lights, Camera, Talking Points: Media Training
  • Negotiating 101: Salary, Contracts and More
  • Responsible Reporting
  • Acing Your Freelance Life
  • J-School Crash Course
Tickets are $12. Plus, WAM! is hosting a pre-conference happy hour on Friday night so you can mingle with other feminist journalists and media activists. If you’re in the NYC area, get your tickets today!

Don’t live in NYC or can’t attend, there are WAM! events in Austin, Boston (my home-town where they’re hosting the WAM! Boston Film Festival), Camden, NJ, Chicago, DC, Los Angeles, Ottowa and Vancouver. Or start a chapter in your area!

We have a huge media problem. Women are overwhelmingly underrepresented in the media.

Of the top 250 grossing films in the U.S. in 2012, women comprise 9% of directors, 15% of writers and make up 18% of all directors, executive producers, producers, writers, cinematographers, and editors. For documentary directors at major film festivals, women are 39% of directors. Only 33% of films’ speaking roles belong to women. Most film reviews in mainstream media are written by men. 88% of video game developers are male even though 47% of gamers are women. 30% of women are TV news directors. Talk radio hosts are overwhelmingly male. Newspapers are more likely to quote men than women. On Sunday TV talk shows, women are 14% of those interviewed and 29% of panelists. Female authors’ books get reviewed far less than men’s and male literary critics are published far more than women.

So it’s time for us to do something about it.

You can’t be what you can’t see. It’s crucial for us to come together, strategize and support one another as we navigate the terrain. We must create our own media and analyze existing media through an intersectional feminist lens. It’s vital to highlight women’s voices and experiences.

Ava DuVernay’s ‘Middle of Nowhere’ a Complicated, Transformational, and Feminist Love Story

Written by Megan Kearns.

I often talk about how I want to see more female-fronted films, created by female filmmakers, including women of color on-screen and behind the camera. I want complex, strong, intelligent, resilient, vulnerable, flawed women characters. I want more realistic depictions of love: tender, supportive yet complicated. I want my films to make a social statement if possible. In Ava Duvernay’s award-winning, poignant and evocative film Middle of Nowhere, she masterfully displays all of the above.

Middle of Nowhere is such a brilliant film – quiet yet intense – I worry my words won’t do it justice.
When we meet the intelligent, persistent and amiable Ruby (Emayatzy Corinealdi in a captivatingly powerful performance), she’s living for her husband Derek (Omari Hardwick). She has put her life, her career, her education, her dreams on hold. All so she can emotionally and financially support Derek. Ruby quits medical school after her husband Derek faces an 8-year prison sentence. She wants to visit her husband in prison on weekends and doesn’t want to miss his weekday calls. Ruby envisions them as a team, a united front. But Derek wants her to let go and move on with her life.
These two exchanges in the beginning of the film punctuate the disparity in Ruby and Derek’s views:
Derek: “You were on your way to doing something. Don’t stop.”
Ruby: “We were on our way.”
 
Derek: “I want you to keep going with your life…Don’t stop for me.”
Ruby: “You are me.”
You want Ruby to succeed. You want her to find happiness. But she can’t move on. Derek isn’t the only one trapped. Ruby is imprisoned, haunted by the beautiful memories of the past, determined to survive the present, waiting it out for her happily reunited future.
Ruby must adapt to her new life. She bonds with another wife of an inmate on her weekly bus ride to the prison, the two support one another through their ordeal. Ruby tells her mother Ruth (Lorraine Toussaint) she’s taking night shifts at the hospital so she can support Derek as he’s going through a tough time. Her mother skeptically questions this as she knows her daughter struggles and sacrifices too. Frustrated and angry, she believes Ruby is throwing her life away for a man who doesn’t matter.

Ruth: “Oh he’s going through a tough time? I see. Then, by all means, sit home and wait to comfort him. That makes a lot of sense.”

 

It’s also “radical,” although it shouldn’t be, to see a loving black relationship on-screen. A beautiful yet heartbreaking love story, Ruby and Derek passionately love each other. We see Ruby and Derek cooking together, playful and tender, in Ruby’s memories. We witness her bittersweet words to Derek as she writes in an anniversary card, “Next year, I’ll whisper this in your ear. Happy anniversary. I love you.” Throughout the film, Ruby imagines Derek sleeping next to her, holding her. When Ruby visits Derek in prison, their love hangs in the air, unspoken yet palpable.

When we see a prison story, it follows the inmates, rarely their families. My mother worked at a prison, doing payroll for correctional officers. So I grew up hearing stories of inmates and COs. But what about their families? DuVernay was curious about all those women who visit their loved ones in prison. Where do they go? What are their stories? It’s a story seldom told. In an interview, DuVernay said:

“I’m from Los Angeles and I know countless women who live this kind of life every day, year after year. You see women struggling to keep it all together while a loved one is in jail. But we don’t hear about them or their struggles in a way that resonates with others. Their stories are so compelling. It’s as if they are in their own little world and no one else sees them.”

 

I had the pleasure of seeing Middle of Nowhere at the Athena Film Fest a few weeks ago. In her Q&A at the festival, Duvernay — the first African-American woman to win Best Director at Sundance — talked about the travesty of the prison system. How prisons charge an obscene amount of money for inmates to call their loved ones. How they place inmates in prisons far from their families. When asked in an interview if she’s a feminist filmmaker, DuVernay responded:

“I’m a black filmmaker. That covers all my politics.”

 

While DuVernay may not call herself a feminist or identify as one, this to me was an undoubtedly feminist film. Boasting a strong, intelligent female protagonist, the film raised intersectional issues of gender, race, class, incarceration, marriage, fidelity and motherhood.
We see everything from Ruby’s perspective, witnessing her journey. DuVernay isn’t afraid to allow silence in the film, to let Ruby’s emotions sink in. Middle of Nowhere is a “complicated love story” yet passes the Bechdel Test with ease. While Derek at times consumes her thoughts and words, Ruby converses with her sister Rosie and her mom Ruth about other topics besides men. Ruby and Rosie’s relationship nurtures yet challenges one another. The two sisters unite against their complicated relationship with their mother. Ruth tries to steer her grown children to not follow in her footsteps making the same mistakes she made. She wants her daughters to not be afraid to ask for help. She demands Ruby live her own life, wanting her to stop being afraid to speak up for herself.

With each character, you see their mistakes and flaws. You understand the circumstances that led them to make the choices they have made. Yet Middle of Nowhere villainizes no one. Derek, the easiest character to potentially demonize, retains his dignity and humanity.

We witness Ruby’s fierce passion when she confronts Derek’s lawyer and Derek’s friend Rashad. While she seems more comfortable to speak up on Derek’s behalf — although these encounters obviously impact her future too — Ruby eventually becomes more at ease articulating her needs.
Brian (David Oyelowo), the bus driver who unexpectedly enters her life, tells Ruby she expects a fairytale ending. But like reality, there is no magical fairytale ending. No one’s going to rescue Ruby. She must decide what’s right for herself.
After Ruby experiences a devastating betrayal by someone she loves, she realizes she must go after what she wants. She can’t keep living in the shadow of memories, hoping for a reality that may never materialize.

Ruby: “We are somewhere in between, in a middle place…The past has disappeared. And the future? It doesn’t exist, until we get there.”

When do you stay? When is it time to move on?

I loved Middle of Nowhere, one of my favorite films of 2012. The haunting story boasts complex, fully dimensional characters. Poetic yet realistic dialogue emanates, draped in vivid images and lush, stirring music. The bittersweet yet satisfying ending brought me to tears.
While a romance, it doesn’t fall into the stereotypical gender traps: a woman changing for a man, a woman trying to catch a man, a woman throwing her life away for a man. Putting the pieces of her shattered heart back together, Ruby emerges from a woman living for her husband to living for herself. Middle of Nowhere transcends the usual boundaries of a love story between a woman and a man to become a transformational story about loving yourself. And that’s incredibly rare and powerful.

Women of Color in Film and TV Week: A Girl Struggles to Survive Her Chaotic Homelife in ‘Yelling to the Sky’

Written by Megan Kearns.

Yelling to the Skystruck a visceral chord with me. I related to it in a way I often don’t with films. I’m not a biracial woman growing up impoverished, who turns to selling drugs as a means of survival. But I grew up with an absent father and a single mother struggling with mental illness, feeling trapped by my surroundings, desperate to break free. 

All the actors give stellar performances in this emotionally raw and gritty film. Zoe Kravitz in particular captivates with a nuanced, powerful performance as the smart, struggling Sweetness O’Hara, trying to survive in a whirlwind of turmoil. Sweetness and her older sister live in a troubled home with unstable, unreliable parents: their white father, an alcoholic and their African-American mother who suffers from mental illness.

Yelling to the Sky opens with a jarring scene. Sweetness is getting bullied and beaten up in the street by her classmates. Latonya (Gabourey Sidibe) taunts her for the lightness of her skin and her biracial heritage – briefly raising complex issues of race and colorism. But she’s rescued by her older sister Ola (Antonique Smith in a scene-stealing powerhouse performance) who we see, as the camera eventually pans out, is very pregnant. This juxtaposition of a brawling pregnant woman, a fiercely protective sister, makes an interesting commentary on our expectations of gender.

Sweetness’ unpredictable father Gordon (Jason Clarke) vacillates between affectionate charisma and volatile violence and rage. He verbally and physically abuses every woman in the household. He tries to make amends for his deplorable parenting later in the film. But since he’s caused so much trauma, it might be too late for forgiveness.

Unfortunately, we never really learn about Sweetness’ mother Lorene (Yolanda Ross) who seems numbed by medication and/or depression beyond Sweetness asking if she was hospitalized in a mental institution when she “went away.” I wish the film had explored more of their relationship.

While I was disappointed the film didn’t explore mother-daughter relationships, it does show the bonds of sisterhood. The relationship between Sweetness and Ola is my favorite part of the film. We see the girls joke, play, challenge and comfort one another. Both rely on one other for support. Ola leaves home to live with her boyfriend, leaving Sweetness to fend for herself alone. But she’s not the only one trapped. Months later, Ola must return home with her baby, now a single mother. Her dreams of escape nothing but nebulous memories.
Yelling to the Skyis a searing portrayal of one girl’s pain. Of her frustration at being confined and trapped in a world not her choosing. Sweetness doesn’t focus on her education or her future. She deals with the immediacy of her pain. She starts selling drugs as a way to make money. She numbs herself with drugs, alcohol and surrounding herself with a cadre of bullies and drug dealers. Sweetness desperately yearns to escape. But where to? Where can she go?

Mahoney said she wanted to evoke feelings of claustrophobia when Sweetness spent time at home. And she succeeds beautifully. You feel just as trapped as Sweetness, chained by loneliness, fear and desperation. When she’s out in the streets, it feels frenetic with drunken stupors, drive-by shootings and drug deals gone wrong.

Zoe Kravitz as Sweetness O’Hara in Yelling to the Sky

Is the film perfect? No it definitely falters at times. I wish we had learned more about each of the characters. It feels very much like a snapshot, a voyeuristic peek through the window into their messy and complicated lives. Just when you’re lured in, the window abruptly closes. But the biggest flaw? I wish it had more deeply explored the issue of race without resorting to stereotypes.

A painful history of colorism and skin shade hierarchy— dark vs. light skin — exists amongst black women. When the media portrays black women, we often see women with lighter skin, straighter hair and more Caucasian features. Both L’Orealand Ellephotoshopped black to make their skin appear much lighter. The media often whitewashes black women, continually perpetuating the unachievable attainment of the white ideal of beauty. “The myth of black beauty” and the preference for lighter black skin can be traced back to slavery.

While light-skinned biracial and black women possess privilege, they may also face a backlash and be deemed not “black enough.” While the jarring opening scene of Yelling to the Sky certainly alludes to this, it is never explored further. Instead, the film resorts to racial stereotypes: “dark(er)-skinned black people are mean and like to victimize light(er)-skinned black people,” “girls/teenagers/women who are “authentically” black are bad” and “interracial relationships are dysfunctional.”

I cringed seeing Sidibe depicted as the dark-skinned, mean, overweight bully terrorizing a lighter-skinned petite girl. When the roles reverse and Sweetness beats the shit out of Latonya, I get the sense that it should feel like vindication for her earlier torment. But it feels empty and hollow. But maybe that’s the point, that retribution and violence are empty and hollow. As this is a semi-autobiographical film, perhaps these circumstances transpired in writer/director Victoria Mahoney’s own life, especially as she’s a biracial woman. But as these racial stereotypes occur over and over in media, it would have been great to have them deconstructed or not appear at all.

We don’t see enough female protagonists, women of color in film or female filmmakers of color. We don’t see enough films exploring issues of gender and race. And we should. In an interview, Mahoney (a promising new filmmaker who is certainly one to watch) shared her inspiration for the film:

“Stemming from my teenage obsession with Chekov’s Three Sisters and a connection to the theme of “manufacturing illusions in order to sustain day to day life.” I related on a gut level to the notion of joy and opportunity, existing elsewhere while in the same breadth knowing it was a lie. The illusion of “one day it’ll be different” is what kept me alive and smashing that illusion might’ve been my death. Putting this film out is important because (yet another generation of) young people are facing the exact same isolation, confusion, neglect, inquiry, desire, and heartache. All these years later, there’s little to no progress or solution. Adults have become freakishly focused on ‘self’, so much so, that we’re failing our responsibilities to participate and aid in the development and advancement of young people’s spiritual and intellectual growth.”

This is what I related to and why I’m so thankful for Yelling to the Sky. I may be a white woman and I may not have made the same choices Sweetness made, but it showed me I wasn’t alone. It felt cathartic watching.

My childhood existed of treacherous terrain to navigate. My mother was preoccupied by her own problems. I never knew what I was walking into when I went home. So I focused on the future. I clung to the hope that one day things would be different. That was the sole reason I survived. It’s the one thing that kept me going. While my mind was fixated on the future, my actions were grounded in the present. Like Sweetness, I skipped classes and almost didn’t graduate high school for I wanted to numb my pain. It’s this delicate dance of present angst and future hopes that Mahoney captures so well.

Sure, some people may find Yelling to the Sky bleak or hopeless. It’s heartbreaking to watch Sweetness spiral out of control. Sweetness clamors to escape, to break free. Yet there’s nowhere to go. Echoing real-life, the film ends with ambiguity and uncertainty. You don’t know how her life will turn out. Sweetness’ story – her struggle to survive amidst the chaos swirling around her, desperate to cling to any semblance of community – is one worth telling. And it’s one we don’t see often enough.

2013 Oscar Week: Feminism and the Oscars: Do This Year’s Best Picture Nominees Pass the Bechdel Test?

Written by Megan Kearns.

When people watch movies, they often think it’s just entertainment. That they don’t really matter. But media impacts our lives tremendously. Films reflexively shape and reflect culture. Feminist commentary is vital. 

It might seem like they don’t but the Oscars matter. The Oscars are the most visible celebration of filmmaking in U.S. and possibly the world. They can also positively impact career trajectories in financing and future themes in film. Called “liberal Hollywood,” they continue to exhibit conservative and sexist values and norms.

Too often, films depict misogyny, sexist gender roles, damsels in distress, women killed, and women’s bodies objectified. The Oscars typically reward women for playing roles that support a central male character in films.

The Academy is 94% white, 77% male, often perpetuating sexism and racism with their white, dude-centric accolades. Women and people of color are rarely nominated for — and even more rarely win — major awards. Although the actor – male or female – with the most acting nominations is Meryl Streep (nominated 17 times) and the actor – male or female – to win the most Oscars for acting is Katherine Hepburn (won 4 times).

Only 6 black women — Hattie McDaniel (Gone with the Wind), Whoopi Goldberg (Ghost), Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls), Halle Berry (Monster’s Ball), Mo’Nique (Precious), Octavia Spencer (The Help) — have ever won for acting. Sadly the roles they won for are “maids, single mothers on welfare and one trickster con artist.”

Only 4 women in 85 years have been nominated for a Best Director Oscar — Lina Wertmüller (Seven Beauties), Jane Campion (The Piano), Sofia Coppola (Lost in Translation), Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker). In 85 years, Kathryn Bigelow the only woman ever to win Best Director Oscar. Ever. No women of color have been nominated as Best Director.

In 85 years, only 7 women producers have won the Best Picture title, all as co-producers with men — Julia Phillips for (The Sting), Lili Fini Zanuck (Driving Miss Daisy), Wendy Finerman (Forrest Gump), Donna Gigliotti for (Shakespeare in Love), Fran Walsh for (The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King), Cathy Schulman for (Crash), Kathryn Bigelow for (The Hurt Locker).

This year Quvenzhane Wallis is the only female of color nominated for acting. Lucy Alibar who co-wrote Beasts of the Southern Wild, is the only woman nominated for Best Screenplay. No women are nominated for Best Director. There are women directors who could have (and some should have) been nominated – including Kathryn Bigelow (Zero Dark Thirty), Ava DuVernay (Middle Of Nowhere), Sarah Polley (Take This Waltz) and Lynn Shelton (Your Sister’s Sister).
The Academy often overlooks female directors and female-centric films.

Women’s dialogue and plotlines rarely focus on other women or even themselves. If women talk to each other, it’s usually revolving around men. This is why the Bechdel Test – while not perfect or automatically indicating feminism – matters. The Bechdel Test: film must 1) feature two named female characters, 2) who talk to each other, 3) about something other than a man.

Now the Bechdel Test doesn’t measure whether or not a film is good or even if it’s feminist or female-centric. And it’s not just about judging films on an individual basis. The Bechdel Test matters because the overwhelming majority of movies fail, indicating the institutional sexism and rampant gender disparity prevalent in Hollywood.

So let’s look at each of this year’s Best Picture nominees:

The heartbreaking Amour focuses on the marriage and love between wife Anne and husband Georges after Anne suffers a stroke. Their daughter Eva and Georges argue about putting her into medical facility. Eva talks to Anne after her stroke but it’s more of a one-sided conversation. It may not pass the Bechdel Test but it’s arguably a female-centric film as Anne is often the focus.

Argo has a woman problem (and perpetuates Iranian stereotypes) as the women are pushed to the background. The two female hostages never interact with each other alone (the way the men do), only as a group, and we never really hear their opinions or views. The Canadian diplomat’s wife and their housekeeper Sahar — a pivotal female character who’s not initially trusted or credited with bravery — talk extremely briefly. Just like the other women in Argo, Sahar’s opinions and views are erased. Her importance truly lies in how she relates to men, again reifying the exultation of men.

The breathtaking and unusual Beasts of the Southern Wild boasts a unique, nuanced, fierce female protagonist of color. While the film focuses on Hushpuppy’s relationship to her father Wink, her relationship to her absent mother is equally important as we see in her wearing her jersey and searching for her. She also has conversations with her teacher Miss Bathsheeba. We often see boys and men in films that showcase a hero’s journey or transformation. But here we see a journey with a strong-willed, opinionated girl. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Django Unchained features a black male protagonist spurred on by “heroic love.” It’s wonderful to see a black married couple who love each other onscreen. And Django captures the “psychological and emotional terrorism” blacks endured. But from a gender perspective, women don’t interact with one another aside from a white woman ordering a female slave. Broomhilda – the catalyst of Django’s journey – is ultimately a damsel in distress rescued by her husband.

Les Miserables boasts feminist themes showcasing plight of women – poverty, sacrifice, sexual slavery. Fantine is a pivotal character. While Eponine and Cossette are in the film, they never interact with each other. Rather there’s a love triangle with Marius in the middle. Despite the large cast of characters, Les Mis ultimately revolves around Jean Valjean – one man’s redemption and salvation.

While his mother impacts his life throughout the film, Life of Pi revolves around an Indian boy’s survival on a shipwrecked boat with a tiger and his search for religion and spirituality.

Obviously, Lincoln is about a dude….Lincoln. And yes, his wife Mary Todd Lincoln is depicted as “his intellectual equal.” But again she revolves around him. Also the film whitewashes the abolition of slavery with the omission of Frederick Douglass. Really? How the hell can you discuss abolition without Douglass?? Even when we do see two women together – Mary Todd Lincoln (Sally Field) and Elizabeth Keckley (Gloria Reuben) – they barely converse. That’s right, only white dudes have impacted or changed history.

Silver Linings Playbook features the unconventional friendship and attraction of a Tiffany and Pat, both struggling with mental illness. We learn that Tiffany is a widow who’s been on medication with an unnamed illness. We see Tiffany and her sister Veronica talk with each other about their lives. I loved this movie. Jennifer Lawrence is once again an outstanding badass. And who knew Wedding Crashers’ Bradley Cooper (although I did love him as Will on Alias) was this good? I’m thrilled that we’re starting to see more nuanced portrayals of mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder – Homeland, Friday Night Lights. But when it comes to gender, while Tiffany is complicated, confident and vulnerable, we get a few details here and there about her life. The predominant focus remains on Pat.

The most controversial (and outstanding) film of the year, Zero Dark Thirty revolves around a strong, complex, intelligent female protagonist. Many have disputed its feminism because they believe it condones torture. While it doesn’t condemn torture is vehemently as it could or should, it raises complex questions. Throughout the film, Bigelow shows that not only does she not condone torture, but ultimately makes a bold and damning statement against the U.S.’ War on Terror. Friends Maya and Jessica debate strategy, challenge each other and unwind. Zero Dark Thirty makes an interesting commentary on gender politics, showcases female friendship and a complex female protagonist struggling to assert her voice in a male-dominated world.

So 3 films pass the Bechdel Test. It’s interesting, although not surprising, that two of those films, which are the most female-centric films nominated this year – Beasts of the Southern Wild and Zero Dark Thirty – are also the two with a woman co-screenwriter or woman director.

I’m really, really, really tired of the white dudefest.

It’s really hard to ignore the correlation between the lack of female-centric films and how few women write and direct.

Of the top 250 grossing films in the U.S. in 2012, 9% of directors were women and 15% were writers. Women 18% of all directors, executive producers, producers, writers, cinematographers, and editors working on top 250 films. Only 33% of films’ speaking roles belong to women

Despite the fact that women buy 50% of movie theatre tickets (as of 2010), most films feature male protagonists. When a female character exists, usually she’s some guy’s lover, spouse or sidekick. Or she’s the damsel in distress he’s going to rescue, validating his virility and masculinity. Male characters do talk about women but they exist as one topic in the spectrum of dialogue. When we see female characters, they serve as “damsels in distress, pining spinsters, fighting fuck toys,” sexy seductresses or “manic pixie dream girls.” Men’s films are seen as universal. Women’s films are seen as niche. That has to change.

All of these objectifying tropes exist for the male gaze, implying that women’s lives must revolve around men. We need to see more women on-screen and behind the scenes. Hopefully then we’ll see more diversity in female characters in age, class, race, sexual orientation as well as personality traits. 

This past Wednesday, Bitch Flicks guest-hosted Women’s Media Center’s weekly tweetchat #sheparty where we dialogued about women and the Oscars. We discussed the problem, the abysmal stats, focus on male-centric films, and solutions. We also debated if Zero Dark Thirty — which has faced a sexist backlash — would have been universally acclaimed if directed by a dude. I say without a doubt yes. Explaining why talking about gender disparity matters, Melissa Silverstein of Women and Hollywood said, 
“People don’t think about whether a film is directed by a man or a woman. We need to help folks understand why it is important. We need to make people understand in terms they can process about the gender disparities in Hollywood. People don’t think about whether a film is directed by a man or a woman. We need to help folks understand why it is important.” 
So can we change the gender dynamics in Hollywood? Yes, we can. 
Female filmmakers can support and mentor other women. As the recent Sundance Institute study showed, networking is vital, studios must be more supportive of work/life balance for women, and we need to make people realize a gender disparity exists in the first place. We as moviegoers can attend opening weekends for female-fronted or women directed movies. We can support independent filmmakers through Indiegogo, Kickstarter and other crowdfunding campaigns. At #sheparty, Spectra of Spectra Speaks said, 
“Taking on the big bad Oscars is important, but so is doing our part as individuals to support women filmmakers. Write about them. Independent filmmakers need actual support — reviews they can show distributors, social media buzz to coax funders.” 
It’s important to deconstruct and analyze and laud mainstream movies. But we film writers must be sure to write about female-centric films and women filmmakers – both mainstream and indie – too. 
When we see more diverse female filmmakers, we see more diverse female protagonists. We need to see women of different races, classes, sexualities and women with abled as well as disabled bodies. We must demand to see more films featuring strong, intelligent complex women living life on their own terms, whose lives don’t revolve around men. We also need to recognize films featuring women and created by women in awards shows.

Women’s stories matter. Women’s voices must be heard. It’s long overdue for the Oscars to realize that too.

Happy Galentine’s Day! Why It’s So Important to See Ladies Celebrating Ladies

Written by Megan Kearns.

Hey, ladies! It’s that time of year…Happy Galentine’s Day!! 

If you’re a fan of Parks and Rec (and if you’re not watching, you should really ask yourself why — I mean it’s only the best, most feminist show on TV), then you know all about the holiday commemorating female camaraderie…and waffles! 
Here’s how Leslie Knope defines the holiday: 
“What’s Galentines Day? It’s only the best day of the year! Every Feb 13th, my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home and we come and kick it breakfast-style. Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lilith Fair, minus the angst. Plus frittatas.” 
A holiday just for ladies celebrating ladies?? Count me in. 
Too few films and TV shows feature female leads. It’s even rarer to see a focus on female friendship, just one of the many reasons why Parks and Rec is such an important series. Creators Greg Daniels and Michael Schur conceived the show to revolve around Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins’ friendship, fitting since Amy Poehler and Rashida Jones are real-life friends.
Leslie is all about supporting other women. She started Camp Athena and the Pawnee Goddesses, programs for teen and tween girls. She idolizes strong women leaders like Hillary Rodham Clinton, Madeline Albright, Condoleezza Rice and Nancy Pelosi. She even made a Geraldine Ferraro action figure as a kid. Leslie has mentored Amber to help her find her career ambition. She compliments and uplifts Ann, gives her advice in her love life, and (after hilarious meddling) embraces her decision to have a baby even though it deviates from Leslie’s perceived path to happiness. So it should come as no surprise Leslie would create a holiday solely to honor and support her female friendships.

Too often we see media depict women as catty and backbiting towards one another or the Smurfette principle with only one woman in a film or TV cast. So it’s great to see the women on Parks and Rec all get along with the crux of the show residing in a female bond. 
We need more media reflecting the fact that women’s lives don’t revolve around men. Women have got their own shit going on. Galentine’s Day reminds us to celebrate our lady friends. Because after all, they are pretty awesome. 

Classic Literature Film Adaptations Week: A Love Letter to ‘Anne of Green Gables’

Megan Follows as Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables (1985)
I’ve admired strong, intelligent and assertive women and girls for as long as I can remember.
When I was 3 years old, I danced to my mom’s Tina Turner albums while donning my Wonder Woman Underoos or my Princess Leia gown. I proudly asserted my female identity – even changing my name to “Girl” when I was a toddler. But my favorite pastime by far? Reading. Books transported me to another world, spiriting me away from my painful childhood. I was especially drawn to strong female protagonists: Karana in Island of the Blue Dolphins, Miyax in Julie of the Wolves, Jo March in Little Women, Meg Murray in A Wrinkle in Time, and of course Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables.
Anne of Green Gables was my favorite book growing up. Featuring one of my literary idols, Anne Shirley is a 13-year-old orphan sent to live with Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert on a farm on Prince Edward Island, Canada in the early 1900s. When I watch the 1985 mini-series based on Lucy Maud Montgomery’s beloved series, I relive that childhood love all over again. I usually prefer books to their film adaptations. But in this case, both versions complement each other perfectly. Megan Follows embodies Anne, capturing her feisty, intelligent, sensitive, compassionate and defiant personality.

I saw so much of myself in Anne. A loquacious and opinionated chatterbox, she talked too much which often got her into trouble. She devoured books, acting out her favorite scenes. She excelled at school and strived to be the top in her class. Stubborn and bold, Anne is a drama-queen – sometimes describing her situation as “the depths of despair” – with romantic dreams, a vivid imagination, quick temper and an insatiable curiosity.

Forever quirky, she asked to be called “Cordelia” and insisted people write her name with an “e,” as she swore her name without that crucial letter was just too plain. She loathed people making fun of her red hair, letting her fiery fury flare when she slammed a slate board over Gilbert Blythe’s head after he calls her “carrots”and pulls on her pigtails. (Hey, keep your hands to yourself Gilbert).

Anne is also vain. She’s obsessed with appearances, wearing fashionable puffy sleeves and laments the curse of her crimson mane, which she accidentally turns green after attempting to dye it raven black. She doesn’t grow out of her beauty obsession. Rather her hair eventually darkens to an “appealing” auburn and people begin to remark on her attractiveness.

Now Anne’s beauty obsession would seem to detract from her feminism. While this is annoying, I liked that she wasn’t a paragon of perfection. Also, while I’m not sure this was the intent, it seems as if the film and book are commenting on the toxicity of beauty culture. Despite Anne’s proclamations that she would “rather be pretty than smart,” Anne’s intellect, creativity, kindness and loyalty are what win people over. Her relationships and her aspirations are what bring her joy. Not her appearance.

Female relationships are highlighted in Anne of Green Gables, which is great to see in our male-centric media. Anne anoints the amicable Diana Barry her kindred spirit and “bosom” friend. The two female friends nurture and support one another. When Anne is about to recite a poem in public, Diana tells her, “You’ve never failed at anything, Anne Shirley.”

We witness an interesting display of gender with Anne’s guardians, Marilla and Mathew Cuthbert. Matthew was kind, gentle and nurturing while Marilla was strong, disciplined and stern – reversing stereotypical gender roles.

Boys often seem to be revered in media and culture. But Anne of Green Gables challenges that notion. The brother and sister wanted to adopt a boy who would help them on the farm. Instead they got Anne, a boisterous girl. Anne tells Matthew, “If I’d been the boy you sent for, I could have spared you in so many ways.” But he replies, “I never wanted a boy. I only wanted you from the first day. Don’t ever change. I love my little girl. I’m so proud of my little girl.” When Matthew says to Marilla it was “lucky mistake” they got Anne, Marilla replies, “It wasn’t luck; it was Providence. He knew we needed her.” My favorite author Margaret Atwood points out that it’s not Anne but Marilla who goes through the greatest transformation. Anne teaches her how to not only love but how to express love. A boy didn’t save them; a girl did.

While we merely see a blossoming friendship, Anne’s eventual romance with Gilbert Blythe in the following film (and books) Anne of Avonlea, is still my ideal to this day. Despite being written over 100 years ago, it’s still refreshing to see an egalitarian partnership. Gilbert is Anne’s intellectual and emotional equal. He supports, nurtures and challenges her, pushing her to be her best. How could a feminist not search for her own Gilbert Blythe?

Dedicated to her career, Anne relentlessly advances her education with the goal of becoming a teacher. Always independent, she wants to forge her own path and pursue her dreams. She also hopes to fall passionately in love. Yet her aspirations, career, family and female friendships matter equally.

While the word “feminist” is never uttered (or written) in Anne of Green Gables, I have no doubt in my mind that Anne is a feminist, albeit “a stealth feminist.” As Chloe Angyal so eloquently writes:

“On the surface, she adheres to all the requirements of turn early twentieth century Canadian womanhood. She’s domestic, as is expected. She’s feminine and elegant, as is expected. She’s polite and courteous, as is expected, except for those occasions on which her temper gets the better of her. But underneath all that, she’s quite a rebellious young woman. She’s determined to be as educated as she possibly can – as educated as a woman was permitted to be in those days. Anne is an opinionated young lady, and she isn’t afraid to voice her opinions out loud when so many of her girl friends defer to men and to tradition.”

But as Angyal points out, Anne is also “a model for those of us who work for social justice.” Anne struggled through her early childhood, living with a cruel family until she’s 13. Never knowing love at all, she recites, “My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.” Yet despite her pain and loneliness – or perhaps because of it – she seeks to make the world a better place:

“Anne is capable of turning pain into beauty, and injustice into love. She is able to imagine a better world. More than that, she views it as her duty and her delight to create that better world, through teaching and learning or even, simple though it might sound, through treating people with kindness and empathy and love.”

Children need role models. But girls especially need strong female role models because of the inundation of sexist and misogynistic media. Children’s (and adults’) movies and TV shows too often suffer from the Smurfette Principle, revolving around boys. In our pink sea of princess culture saturating girlhood, it’s refreshing to watch and read a bold, intelligent and unique – and feminist – character like Anne.

Even though I wasn’t an orphan, I related to Anne. With my tumultuous childhood – my parents’ divorce, moving in with my grandparents and my mother struggling with mental illness – I was a lonely and opinionated only child, never feeling like I belonged, never feeling loved. I desperately yearned to find my place in the world, just as Anne did. It was comforting to see, even if only on-screen and in the pages of a novel, that I wasn’t alone after all. I had a kindred spirit in Anne.

Classic Literature Film Adaptations Week: ‘For Colored Girls’ Reveals Power of Sisterly Solidarity & Women Finding Their Voice

Written by Megan Kearns, originally published at The Opinioness of the World.

I was excited to see For Colored Girls. A film about 9 women, as a feminist, how could I not be? But I have to admit, I questioned whether or not I should even be writing this review. Writing about a film revolving around African-American women, based on a seminal play on race, and I’m not a woman of color…would it be inappropriate? Would I be breaking some kind of taboo? But then I realized after reading the play and watching the film, while it speaks to women of color and the experiences they endure, it portrays myriad experiences women face.

I don’t want to diminish the unique racial struggles that women of color encounter in this film and in life for that matter. I will never know what it’s like to be followed in a store because of the color of my skin. I will never be told that I should have babies with a white man so my children will have lighter skin and be prettier. But I think this is an important film for women and men to see for the commentary it makes on gender and race and the struggles women of color endure.

For Colored Girls follows 9 African-American women whose lives intersect in a New York City brownstone. A mosaic of stories as their lives weave together. Janet Jackson is an unyielding corporate magazine mogul with intimacy issues; Loretta Devine, a nurse opening a non-profit clinic dating an unreliable boyfriend; Anika Noni Rose, an effervescent and optimistic dance instructor; Kerry Washington, a happily married social worker who can’t have the one thing she so desperately wants; Kimberly Elise, Jackson’s personal assistant and a mother of two living in an abusive relationship; Phylicia Rashad, the all-knowing wise neighbor; Whoopi Goldberg a devoutly religious woman and mother of Thandie Newton, a promiscuous woman with a thirst for life and a painful past, and Tessa Thompson, a teen who aspires to be a dancer. Almost every aspect of a woman’s life is shown: sex, losing virginity, abortion, rape, falling in love, jealousy, domestic violence, murder, sisterhood, motherhood, infidelity, infertility, break-ups and friendship.

The film For Colored Girls is Tyler Perry’s adaptation of the critically acclaimed Obie award-winning 1974 play and choreopoem For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf written by Ntozake Shange. I had never even heard of the play until a couple of years ago when my co-worker Nai adamantly insisted that I must read it. I was so glad she did as I was blown away by Shange’s brutally honest yet devastatingly beautiful prose. It’s raw and rhythmic, moving with a fierce visceral cadence. In the play, each woman is represented by a color: red, blue, yellow and so on. With striking visuals, the film incorporates this theme by having each of the women who signify wear outfits and garments that symbolize that color. When one of the women is raped, she stops wearing her bright color, donning black clothing instead, as if the trauma had drained her color, her vibrancy. Each woman was so unique: different classes, ages, shades of black (as my co-worker pointed out). It’s rare to find a powerful woman lead a film; it’s almost unheard of for a film to tell nine women’s distinctive tales. The movie and the play both open with these pleading words:

“somebody / anybody sing a black girl’s song bring her out to know herself to know you but sing her rhythms carin / struggle / hard times sing her song of life she’s been dead so long closed in silence so long she doesn’t know the sound of her own voice her infinite beauty she’s half-notes scattered without rhythm / no tune sing her sighs sing the song of her possibilities sing a righteous gospel…”

Perry incorporated most of the play’s language into the dialogue of the film. The powerful poetry is so strikingly beautiful and haunting, so lyrical, that at times it can yank you out of the film, reminding you that it’s not real.All of the women gave fantastic performances, particularly Thandie Newton, whose portrayal could have meandered into a caricature yet never did, Anika Noni Rose, yielding a heartbreaking depiction, and Kimberly Elise, whose restrained and poignant performance made it feel all the more authentic. I noticed that the dialogue separated the decent actors from the outstanding ones. The phenomenal actors (Rashad, Newton, Jackson, Divine, Rose, Elise), inhaled Shange’s words, tasted them and exhaled seamless monologues, making them truly their own.

Women knowing their own worth and finding their voice are messages continually conveyed. Thandie Newton utters one of my fave lines (which differs slightly from the play’s text),

“Being alive and being a woman is all I got, but being colored is a metaphysical dilemma I haven’t conquered yet.”

While it speaks to the unique intersectional experiences of race, gender and identity black women confront, I found I could still relate. I’m proud to be a woman; my gender shapes my identity yet I don’t want it defining who I am. Shange wrote the play in 1974, just after Roe v. Wade had been passed. Yet the material still rings true today. It was surprising to see one of the characters not only seeking an abortion but actually obtaining one. As I’ve written before, it’s still rare for a film or TV show to portray women getting abortions. When describing a back-alley abortion, one of the women cries:

“…metal horses gnawin my womb / dead mice fall from my mouth…”

Some of the characters contend with unspeakable hardships. When one of the characters is raped, she has to defend her actions to a police officer, how she didn’t ask for it. She whispers:

“the stranger we always thought it would be, who never showed up, cuz it turns out the nature of rape has changed…”

But watching the scenes with Kimberly Elise, in which she tiptoes, avoiding upsetting her abusive boyfriend, were some of the hardest for me to sit through, especially as a domestic violence survivor. Elise’s subtle performance makes the pain that much more palpable.
The film shows how far many women will go to please men. For Colored Girls doesn’t blame women. Rather, it shows the responsibility women bear in navigating their lives through the choices, good and bad, they make. When the hilarious Loretta Devine finally has had enough with her cheating boyfriend letting her down, she yells:

“I got a real dead loving here for you now, because I don’t know anymore how to avoid my own face wet with my tears! Because I had convinced myself that colored girls have no right to sorrow!”

She goes on to tell the women at her clinic:

“somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff…like a kleptomaniac workin hard & forgettin while stealin this is mine / this ain’t your stuff…did you know somebody almost got away with me / me in a plastic bag under their arm…”

Many women often do too much for men, putting up with too much mediocrity. Janet Jackson experiences a similar epiphany when she tells her husband that she’s tired of hearing his apologies. She says,

“…I got sorry greeting me at my front door you can keep yours …I’m gonna haveta throw some away I can’t even get to the clothes in my closet for all the sorries… …well I will not call I’m not goin to be nice I will raise my voice & scream & holler… …& I wont be sorry for none of it”

Perry’s film has been simultaneously criticized and lauded with reviewers at both ends of the spectrum. Some have called it a “choppy mess”, claimed he “butchers” Shange’s play while others have criticized it for its men bashing. While the overly negative depictions of men may be valid, the point of the play was that men can and do inflict pain and suffering on women. Women need to look for happiness and fulfillment not with men but in themselves. But maybe some people have a problem with a film in which the men are superfluous. Manohla Dargis of the NY Times gave a favorable review discussing the tragic storylines:

“That might sound unbearable, but done right it’s thrilling — specific in its pain, universal in its reach — and Mr. Perry works very hard and gets it mostly right.”

Matt Zoller Seitz at Salon praised the film and Perry:

“[Perry] gathers together some of the greatest African-American actresses in America — actresses who are lucky to get one or two scenes in a film with a predominantly white cast — in leading roles that let them chase dreams, make mistakes, fall in love, have their hearts broken, flirt, seduce, manipulate, preen, pout, rail against injustice, and endure and transcend Old Testament-level suffering. And they reward Perry with performances so heartfelt, and often so accomplished, that they make all of his films worth seeing no matter what you think of him as a director.”

For those who hated it, I can’t help but wonder that if the tribulations these women confronted were faced by men, people would have enjoyed the film more. Perhaps people are uncomfortable seeing this much pain, this much torment. But women do experience these painful situations, even the shockingly horrific domestic violence scene near the end of the film. I think people miss the movie’s point by scoffing at it for being too depressing. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and claim it’s not gut-wrenching and horrific. Oh it is, at times dipping into the melodramatic. And yes, I felt like a mack truck had run me over halfway through the film. Yet the ending was ultimately hopeful, a testament to sisterly solidarity amongst women.
In the beginning of the film, the women fight with one another and can’t get along. I was worried saying to myself, “What the hell has Tyler Perry done to Ntozake Shange’s beautifully feminist play?!” But my fears were unfounded. Women in the film face a crossroads in their lives. They suffer unspeakable tragedy and then must find a way to move forward. After the women brave wave upon wave of heartbreak and terror, the film ends, as the play does, with the women coming together; a united front, knowing their self-worth. Kimberly Elise declares,

“…I wanted to jump up outta my bones & be done wit myself leave me alone & go on in the wind it waz too much I fell into a numbness till the only tree I cd see took me up in her branches held me in the breeze made me dawn dew that chill at daybreak the sun wrapped me up swingin rose light everywhere the sky laid over me like a million men I waz cold / I was burnin up / a child & endlessly weavin garments for the moon wit my tears I found god in myself & I loved her / I loved her fiercely”

I was initially apprehensive about Tyler Perry directing and writing this adaptation, as was Shange who said in an interview that she was “worried about his characterizations of women as plastic.” While a more adept filmmaker might have done something different or even better, I don’t think people are giving Perry due credit. He portrayed fully dimensional characters, showing the respect for women I’ve always assumed he feels despite his previous lackluster films. Perry added some important pieces to the film, like Whoopi Goldberg, as my co-worker Nai pointed out, divulging how her father gave her to a white man as he didn’t want ugly grandbabies. He also added Janet Jackson’s line where she says, “Women give up too much of their power.” I think Perry did a fantastic job of knowing what to keep and what to leave out. He remained faithful to the play, capturing its breathtaking essence.
Professor and writer Reza Aslan said in an interview on the Colbert Report:

“the best way to reframe perceptions is not through information or knowledge or education…but through the arts, through literature, through film. These are the things that really break down the boundaries and borders between us…”

Making this argument tangible, in Elle Magazine’s Women and Hollywood November 2010 issue, director/actor Victoria Mahoney (Yelling at the Sky) said that if we want to see more women’s films, we must go and see them; we need to vote with our dollars, a sentiment uttered by Melissa Silverstein at Women and Hollywood. If we want to see women on-screen, if we want to open the dialogue on racism and sexism, if we ever hope to open our minds to experiences that both differ from and echo our own, then we need to support films with women and women of color as protagonists.
The theme of a woman’s voice echoes throughout the film. Women being silenced…by shame, fear, abuse, their mothers, the men in their lives, society…is threaded throughout. Shange’s play and Perry’s film testify the power of women finding solace, self-acceptance and strength in themselves and reclaiming their voice. It’s time we listened to women’s voices and hear what they have to say.

2013 Athena Film Festival Lineup: Films on Women & Leadership

Here at Bitch Flicks, we’re super excited by the 3rd annual Athena Film Festival! We’ve attended each year, watching fearless and inspirational women on-screen and listening to brave and bold filmmakers. The festival features narrative films, documentaries, short films along with panels and workshops for filmmakers — all focusing on women’s leadership. Co-founded by Melissa Silverstein and Kathryn Kolbert, the festival runs from February 7-10 in New York City at Barnard College.
Kathryn Kolbert, Athena Film Festival Co-Founder and the Constance Hess Williams Director of the Athena Center for Leadership Studies at Barnard College, said:

“We are proud to announce such a robust lineup for this year’s Festival. The variety of films and filmmakers at the festival this year exemplifies the increasing presence of female leaders in the industry.” 
Melissa Silverstein, Athena Film Festival Co-Founder and Artistic Director and head of Women and Hollywood, said:

“The balanced mix of films represents the breadth and depth of the Festival’s mission. Each year we strive to selectfilms that inspire filmmakers and industry members. This year’s slate is our strongest yet and continues to convey this focus.”

With only 5% of women directing films, female writers comprising 24% of all writers in Hollywood and women in only 33% of speaking roles in films, women’s experiences and perspectives are often missing. Women don’t just sit on the sidelines. They lead, advocate and inspire. The films featured at the Athena Film Fest celebrate women’s diverse lives yet their common goal to catalyze change.

Purchase tickets and passes here.

FEATURE FILMS

Beasts of the Southern Wild
Director: Benh Zeitlin
Run Time:
Language: English

In a forgotten but defiant bayou community cut off from the rest of the world by a sprawling levee, a six-year-old girl is in balance with the universe, until a fierce storm changes her reality. Buoyed by her childish optimism and extraordinary imagination, and desperate to save her ailing father and sinking home, this tiny hero must learn to survive unstoppable catastrophes. Hailed as one of 2012’s most original films, Beasts of the Southern Wild appeared on many critics year-end top 10 lists.

Brave
Director: Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman
Run Time:
Language: English

Determined to make her own path in life, Princess Merida defies a custom that brings chaos to her kingdom. Granted one wish, Merida must rely on her bravery and her archery skills to undo a beastly curse.

Fast Girls
Director: Regan Hall
Run Time: 91 minutes
Language: English

When a sassy streetwise runner meets an ambitious, wealthy competitor, their two worlds collide with explosive results. As the fast girls strive to qualify for the World Championships, they battle adversity and rivalry on a dramatic, heartwarming and inspirational journey. 

Future Weather
Director: Jenny Deller
Run Time: 100 minutes
Language: English

Abandoned by her single mom, a teenaged girl becomes obsessed with ecological disaster, forcing her and her grandmother, a functioning alcoholic, to rethink their futures. Inspired by a New Yorker article on global warming, Future Weather uses the refuge of science and the environment as a backdrop as the two women learn to trust each other and leap into the unknown.

Ginger and Rosa 
Director: Sally Potter
Run Time: 90 minutes
Language: English

London, 1962. Two teenage girls — Ginger and Rosa — are inseparable. They discuss religion, politics, and hairstyles, and dream of lives bigger than their mothers’. But, as the Cold War meets the sexual revolution, and the threat of nuclear holocaust escalates, the lifelong friendship of the two girls is shattered –by a clash of desire and the determination to survive.

The Girl
Director: David Riker
Run Time: 90 minutes
Language: English, Spanish with English subtitles

Emotionally distraught from losing custody of her son and running out of options to earn a living to win him back, single mother Ashley (Abbie Cornish) becomes desperate when she loses her job at a local Austin megastore. So when the risky opportunity arises to become a coyote—smuggling illegal immigrants over the Texas border—she takes it. The harrowing experience results in unforeseen rewards and consequences, as Ashley forges an intense bond with a young Mexican girl who forces her to confront her past, accept the mistakes she’s made, and look to the future.

Hannah Arendt
Director: Margarethe von Trotta
Run Time: 113 minutes
Language: English, German with English subtitles

Hannah Arendt is a portrait of the genius that shook the world with her discovery of “the banality of evil.” After she attends the Nazi Adolf Eichmann’s trial in Jerusalem, Arendt dares to write about the Holocaust in terms no one has ever heard before. Her work instantly provokes a furious scandal, and Arendt stands strong as she is attacked by friends and foes alike. But as the German-Jewish émigré also struggles to suppress her own painful associations with the past, the film exposes her beguiling blend of arrogance and vulnerability — revealing a soul defined and derailed by exile.

Middle of Nowhere
Director: Ava DuVernay
Run Time: 97 minutes
Language: English

When her husband, Derek, is sentenced to eight years in a California prison, Ruby drops out of medical school to focus on ensuring Derek’s survival in his violent new environment. Driven by love, loyalty, and hope, Ruby learns to sustain the shame, separation, guilt, and grief that a prison wife must bear. Her new life challenges her identity, and propels her in new, often frightening directions of self-discovery. Winner of Best Director Award at 2012 Sundance Film Festival and Best Actor at the 2012 Gotham Awards.

La Rafle
Director: Roselyn Bosch
Run Time: 115 minutes
Language: French, German, Yiddish with English subtitles

This film is the story of the infamous Vel’ d’Hiv roundup in 1942 when French police carried out an extensive raid on Jews in greater Paris, resulting in the arrest of more than 13,000 people — including 4,000 children. Told from the perspective of the children and the nurse who cared for them, this is an emotionally astute and sensitive exploration of a long taboo subject in France — one that caused former French President Jacques Chirac to issue a public apology in 1995. 

Violeta Went to Heaven (Violeta Se Fue A Los Cielos)
Director: Andrés Wood
Run Time: 110 minutes
Language: Spanish and French with English subtitles

This is the extraordinary story of the poet and folksinger Violeta Parra, whose songs have become hymns for Chileans and Latin Americans alike. Director Andrés Wood traces the intensity and explosive vitality of her life, from humble origins to international fame, her defense of indigenous cultures, and devotion to her art.


DOCUMENTARIES

Band of Sisters
Director: Mary Fishman
Run Time: 88 minutes
Language: English

The work of two nuns outside a Chicago-area deportation center introduces us to the tumultuous and engaged world of U.S. Catholic nuns in the fifty years following Vatican II. From sheltered “daughters of the church” once swathed in medieval dress to activists for social justice, Band of Sisters follows the journey of these religious women as they work for civil rights, and immigration reform, and become increasingly relevant and visible in aid of the poor and disenfranchised. 

Birth Story: Ina May Gaskin and The Farm Midwives
Director: Sara Lamm and Mary Wigmore
Run Time: 95 minutes
Language: English

Birth Story: Ina May Gaskin and The Farm Midwives captures a spirited group of women who taught themselves how to deliver babies on a 1970s hippie commune. They grew their own food, built their own houses, published their own books, and, as word of their social experiment spread, created a model of care for women and babies that changed a generation’s approach to childbirth. Today, as nearly one-third of all U.S. babies are born via C-section, they labor on, fighting to preserve their knowledge and pushing, once again, for the rebirth of birth. 

Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has To Travel
Director: Lisa Immordino Vreeland
Run Time: 86 minutes
Language: English

The legendary Diana Vreeland was the arbiter of the fashion world for four decades. From her early days as a columnist at Harper’s Bazaar to her eight-year reign as Editor-in-Chief at Vogue beginning in 1963, Vreeland’s larger-than-life personality and flair for the slightly outrageous gave her the final word in pushing fashion forward. 

Granny’s Got Game
Director: Angela Alford
Run Time: 74 minutes
Langauge: English

Granny’s Got Game tells the story of six fiercely competitive women in their seventies who battle physical limitations and skepticism to keep doing what they love. The film follows the inspiring women for a year as they compete for another National Senior Basketball Games Championship.

Inocente
Director: Sean Fine and Andrea Nix Fine
Run Time: 40 minutes
Language: English and Spanish with English subtitles

At 15, Inocente refuses to let her dream of becoming an artist be thwarted by her life as an undocumented, homeless immigrant. The extraordinary sweep of color on her canvases creates a world that looks nothing like her own dark past — punctuated by a father deported for domestic abuse, an alcoholic and defeated mother of four, an endless shuffle through San Diego’s homeless shelters, and the constant threat of deportation. Neither sentimental nor sensational, Inocentewill immerse you in the very real, day-to-day existence of a young girl who is battling staggering challenges. But the hope in Inocente’s story proves that the hand she has been dealt does not define her, her dreams do.

I Stand Corrected
Director: Andrea Meyerson
Run Time: 84 minutes
Language: English

Watch Jennifer Leitham perform and it’s obvious the striking redhead is an original. When this world-famous jazz bassist takes center-stage, she’s a special talent made all the more unique because Jennifer Leitham began her life and career as John Leitham. I Stand Corrected explores Leitham’s enlightening story of success and survival, of betrayal and compassion, and the risks she takes to embrace who she truly is. 

Putin’s Kiss
Director: Lise Birk Pedersen
Run Time: 85 minutes
Language: Russian with English subtitles

Putin’s Kiss portrays contemporary life in Russia through the story of Masha, a 19-year-old girl who is a member of Nashi, a political youth organization connected with the Kremlin. Extremely ambitious, the young Masha quickly rises to the top of Nashi, but begins to question her involvement when a dissident journalist whom she has befriended is savagely attacked. 

Women Aren’t Funny
Director: Bonnie McFarlane
Running Time: 78 minutes
Language: English

Female comedian Bonnie McFarlane sets out along with fellow comedian and husband Rich Vos (and their adorable 3 year old) to find out once and for all if women are funny and report her unbiased findings in this important documentary film. Working around stand up gigs, quarrelling with her husband and parenting their daughter, Bonnie manages to squeeze in interviews with a wide range of comedians, club owners, talent bookers and writers about why there remains such a pervasive, negative stereotype about women in comedy.

WONDER WOMEN! The Untold Story of American Superheroines
Director: Kristy Guevera-Flanagan
Run Time: 62 minutes
Language: English

Tracing the fascinating evolution and legacy of Wonder Woman and superheroines in film from the birth of the comic book superheroine in the 1940s to the blockbusters of today, WONDER WOMEN! examines how popular representations of women reflect society’s anxieties about women’s power and liberation. Goes behind the scenes with Lynda Carter, Lindsay Wagner, comic writers and artists, and real life superheroines as well.

SHORT FILMS 

Shorts Program 1
Shorts Program 2
Shorts Program 3
Works in Progress

PANELS AND DISCUSSIONS

A Hollywood Conversation with Gale Anne Hurd

Hear from this year’s winner of the Athena Film Festival’s Laura Ziskin Lifetime Achievement Award, Gale Anne Hurd, as she discusses her career and experience as one of the industry’s most respected and innovative film and television producers. Hurd has developed and produced films that routinely garner Academy Award nominations, and TV programs that win Emmys and shatter ratings records. She has carved out a leading position in the male-dominated world of the blockbuster, and become a recognized creator of iconic cultural touchstones including the blockbuster cable hit, The Walking Dead, and such iconic films as The Terminator, Aliens, The Abyss and Terminator 2: Judgment Day.

In Her Voice: Women Directors Talk Directing

In Her Voice is the first book to ever take the words and experiences of celebrated women film directors and put their voices front and center. This unique volume of interviews presents more than 40 feature and documentary directors from around the world including Debra Granik (Winter’s Bone), Courtney Hunt (Frozen River), Callie Khouri (Mad Money), Sally Potter (Rage), Lone Scherfig (An Education) and Lynn Shelton (Humpday).

Sundance Institute Presents: Women Directors in Independent Film

The Sundance Institute has partnered with Women and Film to examine the submissions and selections for the Sundance Film Festival and for Sundance Institute Feature Film and Documentary Film Programs to determine whether gender makes a difference. After examining data from multiple years, the research identifies systemic obstacles that hinder women directors at key stages in their independent film careers. The research was released at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival. Keri Putnam, Executive Director of the Sundance Institute will participate in the discussion.

Tina Fey? Amy Poehler?? Why I Can’t Wait for the Golden Globes

Words cannot adequately express my excitement, my elation, my….well, you get the point…that Amy Poehler and Tina Fey will be hosting this Sunday’s Golden Globes. Am I excited because two women will be hosting? Two feminists? Two hilariously funny people? Yes, yes and yes.
After Amy Poehler’s continued awesomeness at the 2011 Emmys — complete with comical commentary on institutional sexism and female camaraderie — I have no doubt the two real-life best friends, aka the “Cagney and Lacey of comedy,” will make the film and TV awards show both feminist and entertaining. Especially after last year’s Golden Globes replete with dick jokes and sexual harassment. Not only is it great to see two strong, intelligent and talented women on-stage, but it’s wonderful to see those same two women admire and support each other.

Old-timey Hollywood banter, imaginary conversations with Angelina Jolie, photo-bombing Harrison Ford? How could this not be amazeballs??

In one of the videos, Amy and Tina talk about why they want to host. Tina says:
“It’s a very sloppy, loud party and that seems like our kind of thing.”
 
Oh yes, ladies, that’s most certainly my kind of thing too.
———-
Bitch Flicks will be live-tweeting the 2013 Golden Globes on Sunday, January 13th at 8pm ET/5pm PT. Follow us on Twitter at @BitchFlicks! And be sure to follow Bitch Flicks regular contributor Myrna Waldron at @SoapboxingGeek who will be live-tweeting too!

2013 Golden Globes Week: ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ Raises Questions On Gender and Torture, Gives No Easy Answers

Jessica Chastain as Maya in Zero Dark Thirty

Written by Megan Kearns. | Warning: Spoilers ahead!!

Driven, relentless, bad-ass women in film always hold a special place in my heart. Ripley from Alien and Aliens, Patty Hewes from Damages, Carrie Mathison from Homeland. Maya, the female protagonist of Zero Dark Thirty, is no exception. But can a film be feminist if it depicts horrific violations of human rights?

Played effortlessly by Jessica Chastain, Maya is a smart, tenacious and perceptive CIA analyst who navigates the 10-year hunt for al-Qaeda terrorist leader Osama bin Laden. Intense and focused, she relentlessly pursues her work with one singular goal: finding bin Laden. Unyielding, she refuses to give up. She’s a cinematic version of Carrie Mathison. Interestingly both women have an irrefutable compass when it comes to being right. They boldly trust and follow their uncanny instincts.
Zero Dark Thirtyis riveting, fascinating and jarring. It assaults the senses with evocative images, haunting music, booming explosions and chilling 911 calls on 9/11. Powerful and exquisitely crafted by Kathryn Bigelow, it is unrelenting in its vision.

As Candice Frederick asserts, Maya anchors and propels the film. With a woman at the center of this story, it’s hard not to question gender. Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t overtly discuss gender politics, as Bigelow points out. Yet it reveals gender dynamics in subtle and important ways.

In the beginning of the film, Maya appears queasy about torture. Yet she refuses to turn away. When Dan (Jason Clarke), another CIA analyst, says she can watch the interrogation on video, she insists on being in the room. Early on, a colleague calls her a “killer,” a moniker that doesn’t quite seem to fit her composed demeanor and soft-spoken voice. Or is that supposed to challenge our stereotypical gender assumptions? But it certainly fits as the film progresses.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

We witness a hyper-masculine environment in which Maya’s boss George (Mark Strong) slams his fist on the desk screaming at CIA analysts, “I want targets. Do your fucking jobs. Bring me people to kill.” After years in the field, after her friends have died, after relentlessly pursuing bin Laden, Maya swears, screams at a superior and boldly tells the CIA Director (James Gandolfini) in a room full of men, “I’m the motherfucker that found this place, sir.” Inoo Kang asserts this one statement draws attention to her gender: “anyone can be a motherfucker, man or woman – just like anyone can find bin Laden.” Does she adopt stereotypical masculine behavior to adapt? Or is her aggression merely a manifestation of her frustration and obsession? Or is she merely a bundle of contradictions, like most people?

Writer Katey Rich said she was fascinated how Maya’s “femininity is never talked about out loud, but influences everything she does and the way her colleagues react to her.” All of the male colleagues and superiors refer to her as the infantilizing term “girl” rather than “woman.” Yet Maya engenders enormous respect from her colleagues and superiors. Two times in the film, a superior asks one of Maya’s colleagues if she’s up for the job. In each instance, she’s described as “a killer” and “intelligent,” although James Gandolfini as the CIA Director dismisses that assertion by saying, “We’re all intelligent.” A Navy SEAL trusts Maya’s judgment on bin Laden’s location because of her unwavering confidence.

One of the best things about having a female director? Not only do we see an intelligent and complex female protagonist. We also see female friendship. Passing the Bechdel Test, we see Maya and her colleague and friend Jessica (Jennifer Ehle) debate, strategize, unwind and challenge each other. Reinforcing their friendship with a visual cue, Maya’s screensaver on her computer is a picture of her and Jessica.

Jennifer Ehle as Jessica in Zero Dark Thirty

After Maya becomes convinced that a vital lead is dead, it’s young analyst Debbie (Jessica Collins) who makes a crucial discovery through researching old files. She tells Maya that she’s been her inspiration. It was nice to see female admiration and camaraderie, even if Maya is too busy, too focused on work to acknowledge her compliment.

When Jessica asks Maya if she has a boyfriend or is sleeping with a co-worker, Maya firmly tells her no. Jessica encourages her to get a little somethin’ somethin’ to take the edge off. She says, “I’m not that girl that fucks – it’s unbecoming.” Now I’m not exactly thrilled with that statement. But I’m delighted Maya isn’t defined by her relationship to a man. She defines herself.

Some have called Zero Dark Thirty “a feminist epic” based on “the real women of the CIA.” But it’s also been criticized for its perpetuation of the Lone Wolf Heroine trope. When asked about the role of Maya’s gender, Bigelow – who was pleasantly surprised to discover how many women were involved in the CIA’s search for bin Laden – said “the beauty of the narrative” is that Maya is “defined by her dedication, her courage, her fearlessness.”

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

I’m honestly not entirely sure if Zero Dark Thirty is a feminist film. But with its subtle gender commentary, female friendship, and female protagonist who’s defined by her actions rather than her appearance or her relationships, it’s hard for me to say it’s not.

Bigelow is a talented filmmaker who made an exceptional film. Which is why it’s shocking she didn’t receive an Oscar nomination. Kathryn Bigelow has continually faced sexism, whether it’s with asshat writer Bret Easton Ellis calling her overrated because she’s “hot,” or by not being awarded an Oscar nomination, despite winning numerous film awards. It’s also unfortunate because the Academy so rarely nominates directors of women-centric films.

Only 4 women have ever been nominated for a Best Director Oscar: Lina Wertmüller (Seven Beauties), Jane Campion (The Piano), Sofia Coppola (Lost in Translation) and Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker). Out of these 4, only the Piano was female-centric. Bigelow is the only woman to ever win. Ever.

Did the Academy ignore Kathryn Bigelow because of sexism? Did they not want to honor a female director twice? Or was it because of the raging shitstorm of controversy regarding the film’s depiction of torture? Or was it because of the pending Senate investigation? And would the Senate have even investigated Zero Dark Thirty had it been directed by a man? I have a sneaking suspicion that sexism resides at the root of each of these questions.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

Many have raised the question whether Zero Dark Thirty excusesor glorifiesor endorses torture while others have refuted these claims, arguing it depicts but doesn’t defend torture or is ambiguous in its stance. Some of the same people who didn’t give two shits about torture and halting human rights atrocities in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo – including Senator John McCain, himself a torture survivor with a “spotty record on torture” as he speaks out against torture yet votes in favor of it  — are the same vocalizing outrage over Zero Dark Thirty. Both Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal have vehemently denied the film being an endorsement of torture. Yet Bigelow has been called a Nazi making propaganda, “torture’s handmaiden” as well as having “zero conscience.” Wow. That’s ridiculously harsh, don’t you think? While I’m all for critiquing art, as Stephen Colbert (of all people!) pointed out, why are we railing against a filmmaker rather than the government who still hasn’t fully investigated the use of torture in the War on Terror?

Now does depicting horrific atrocities equate approval? Absolutely not. Films like The Accused and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo portray rape graphically yet exist to combat victim-blaming rape culture. What matters is in the film’s portrayal.

Zero Dark Thirtydoes not shy away from graphic depictions of torture. Bigelow said that while she wished torture “was not part of that history,” it was. Within the first 20 minutes, we witness detainee Ammar (Reda Kateb) waterboarded, beaten, humiliated, starved, sleep deprived, stress positions by being forced into a tiny box, disoriented with lights and heavy metal music, and walked around with a collar and a chain like a dog. Later, we see other detainees in jumpsuits with wounds and scars. The abuse is horrifying and disturbing to watch. It’s repulsive to see the culmination of the racist, xenophobic colonialism that spurred the use of torture against Muslim Arabs.

Torture does not yield accurate information. Yet Dan repeatedly says to Ammar, “You lie, I hurt you.” When Ammar begs Maya for help, she tells him, “You can help yourself by telling the truth.” Not only does it subvert our gendered assumptions that she would be sympathetic to him. It puts the onus on the tortured detainees, not on the racist atrocities committed by government officials.

Admiral Bill McCraven (Christopher Stanley) and Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

But Zero Dark Thirtyalso shows the inefficacy of torture. When Ammar is put into the box, he lies that he doesn’t know if there will be another attack. And yet we quickly see an attack in Saudi Arabia. We see CIA analysts uncovering intelligence without torture. After Ammar has been abused, demoralized and dehumanized repeatedly for months (years?), Maya and Dan eventually treat him with a modicum of decency and respect. Only then does he finally provide accurate and vital information.

Most tellingly, Dan says he’s leaving as he no longer can torture people. He says he wants to go to DC and do something “normal.” He warns Maya not to be “the last one holding a dog collar when the oversight committee comes.” This sense of awareness doesn’t acquit Dan’s or Maya’s actions. But it does convey that Dan knows that torture is fundamentally wrong.

But Zero Dark Thirtyalso portrays characters who repeatedly say that they can’t do their job without torture — or as they put it “enhanced interrogation techniques” — even after finding leads without torture and even after torture fails to stop terrorist attacks, which undercuts the message that torture is ineffective and reprehensible. It frames torture more as a Machiavellian means to an end: it’s not pleasant but still kinda necessary. But maybe that’s the point — to showcase the traditional thinking of the CIA in how to obtain intelligence, even when everything points in the opposite direction. While it certainly doesn’t condone torture, sadly Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t outright condemn human rights atrocities either.

It is this back and forth, this ambiguous juxtaposition of narratives and views that makes it difficult to analyze and open to interpretation. Zero Dark Thirty has been called a “reverse Rohrsach test” where everyone will see in it “something they would rather not see, but no one can agree on what’s wrong.” Take the opening: some will see replaying voices calling 911 on 9/11 as inciting fear and terror, while others (aka me) will see it as transporting us back to that time, reminding us why we as a nation reacted – right or wrong – the way we did. Bigelow herself said “there’s certainly a moral complexity to that 10-year hunt” for bin Laden. Bigelow and Boal didn’t spell everything out for us and “didn’t spoon-feed their opinions to the audience in a way that made for easy digestion.”  They expect us to complete the puzzle for ourselves.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty
However, the biggest clue as to the film’s overall stance appears in its finale. Zero Dark Thirtymay not criticize torture as much as it could or should. But that doesn’t mean it panders to politics. Rather it questions the course the U.S. has taken. It makes a bold and damning statement critiquing post-9/11 failures and the emptiness of the War on Terror. When bin Laden’s compound is invaded and he’s killed, it’s a taut and suspenseful albeit disturbing sequence. In the end, there’s no rejoicing, no celebration.

The last image we see is Maya, alone shedding silent tears. She allows herself a much-needed emotional release. While she should be satisfied at the culmination of her life’s work, pain tinges this moment. Lost and forlorn, she doesn’t know where to go next.

Zero Dark Thirtydoesn’t provide any easy answers. Rather it asks complex questions. Like any masterful work of art, it challenges us and pushes us, at times in uncomfortable ways. It forces us to look at ourselves as a nation, to our collective pain and to our response to tragedy. Zero Dark Thirty essentially asks us if it was all worth it. It asks how we can move forward. Just like Maya, where do we go from here?

2013 Golden Globes Week: ‘Les Miserables,’ Sex Trafficking & Fantine as a Symbol for Women’s Oppression

Anne Hathaway as Fantine in Les Miserables
Written by Megan Kearns.

Some writers, like professor Stacy Wolf, have enjoyed yet criticized the film adaptation of Les Miserables for not being feminist enough and turning the female characters into “bit players.” While others have lauded its feminism. Sure it irks me yet another film focuses on the journey, salvation and redemption of a man. We clearly have enough of those. But that ignores the importance of women in Les Mis. It ignores how, as Bitch Flicks writer Leigh Kolb astutely points out, a film featuring poverty and class struggles is feminist. 

I have loved Les Miserables for years. After reading it in junior high, the book absorbed me — the horrific tragedy, pain and oppression. The vivid characters and their stories stirred and moved me. I immediately went out and bought the soundtrack, falling under its spell. 5 years later I saw it on Broadway, it mesmerized me. So when I heard a film adaptation of the musical? With Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman? With live singing?? Hearing Samantha Barks as the awesome Eponine belt out “On My Own?” Oh yeah. Saying I was psyched was definitely an understatement.

Sure the numbers 24601 will always be synonymous with Jean Valjean and the cruel incarceration he faced for stealing a loaf of bread. And yes, I love the standoff between Valjean and Inspector Javert or the passion of Enjolras at the barricades. But the person who has haunted me the most throughout the years? It wasn’t any of the men. It was Fantine.

Anne Hathaway embodies the tragic role, giving a phenomenal, powerful and transcendentperformance. She deserves all the hype and accolades she’s received. I’ve always been a fan of Hathaway in anything from Rachel Getting Married to The Devil Wears Prada. But she takes acting to a whole other level in this devastating performance. In “I Dreamed a Dream,” the show-stopping tragic song — which btw, made me weep in ragged sobs in the movie theatre…oh fuck, who am I kidding, even when watching the trailer too — Hathaway pours every emotion, every ounce of herself into the role. She trembles, rages, weeps. Her voice wavering from angelically soft to ragged and hoarse. Her performance alone is reason to watch the entire film. No joke. She’s that outstanding.
Fantine is the archetypal sacrificial mother, giving up everything for her daughter Cosette. But Fantine transcends merely rearticulating tropes and archetypes. Fantine is downtrodden. Life has beaten her down. The tigers at night have torn her hopes apart and crushed her dreams. Hathaway imbues Fantine with a fiery passion balanced with forlorn desperation. She’s angry at her circumstances, angry at her pain, desperate to save her daughter.

Fantine also illustrates the plight of single mothers. Single mothers are 5 times as likely to be in poverty, many working in low-wage jobs without paid sick leave. Fantine struggles to make ends meet to pay for Cossette who lives with the greedy and villanious Thenardiers, at the expense of her own health as she eventually gets ill with tuberculosis.

Fantine works in a factory and is fired after the lecherous foreman discovers through her gossipy coworkers (gee, thanks for the female camaraderie, ladies) that she has a daughter out of wedlock whom she sends money. When she’s thrown out on the streets, Fantine has nowhere to turn. She eventually sells her locket and her prized luscious locks. But then she sells the thing that always makes me shudder. Her teeth. And then, when she has nothing left to sell, she sells her body becoming a prostitute. She sells herself.

Anne Hathaway tried to relate to her character but couldn’t as their lives wildly diverge. But she realized that while Les Mis is a period piece, it parallels the struggles women face today, particularly with Fantine being forced into sexual slavery. Hathaway (who has come out in support of the One Billion Rising campaign to fight violence against women) said:

“There was no way I could relate to what my character was going through. I live a very successful, happy life. I don’t have any children that I’ve had to give up…or keep.  So I tried to get inside the reality of her story as it exists in our world.  And to do that, I read a lot of articles and watched a lot of documentaries and news clips about sexual slavery. And for me, and this particular story, I came to the realization that I had been thinking about Fantine as someone who lived in the past, but she doesn’t. She’s living in New York City right now, probably less than a block away.  This injustice exists in our world.  So every day that I was her, I just thought ‘This isn’t an invention. This isn’t me acting. This is me honoring that this pain lives in this world.’ I hope that in all our lifetimes, we see it end.”

As Ms. Magazine‘s Natalie Wilson points out, the distinction between prostitute and sexual slave is crucial:
“Her framing of Fantine as a sexual slave, NOT a prostitute, is key, as it refuses to glorify or joke about what is so often swept under the rug regarding sex work: that the majority of women do not “choose” it but are forced into it.”

Traditionally, people view the sex industry in two ways. There exists a range of ways to be in it, either by choice, circumstance or coercion, but regardless it’s work and we must make it safe for sex workers and regulate disease. Or the sex industry is a form of violence against women and girls, exploitative and a form of gender-based violence.

Choice is the keystone in the argument. Do people choose sex work? Or are they forced into it via trafficking? Or do they choose it only because they have no other options or means to earn a living, negating its categorization as a “choice?”

In the book Half the Sky, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn “confront theliberal myth that prostitution is a voluntary vocation for women.” As a reproductive justice advocate, I believe a woman’s body should be her legal and personal domain. While some sex workers may choose their profession willingly, too many women – 3 million women and girls – are forced into sex trafficking. Traffickers coerce, beat and rape women into submission. Trafficking is human slavery, a human rights travesty. Numerous women, children and men are savagely sold. Whether people choose sex work willingly or are trafficked, they shouldn’t face criminalization. People who’ve survived trafficking lose jobs or can’t get jobs due to convictions.

Les Mis fuses these two views. It shows that sexual slavery is exploitative and a human rights violation — Fantine enters prostitution for she has no other choice, she has no other way to earn money. But it simultaneously reinforces that we shouldn’t punish sex workers for their circumstances. Les Mis doesn’t devalue, demonize or erase the humanity of those in sex work.

Some assert Les Mis suffers from outdates gender roles and gender stereotypes. Sure it’s set in 1810s-1830s Paris and Victor Hugo wrote it in 1862. But that doesn’t mean we can’t or shouldn’t critique Les Mis through a current lens, especially considering the film is current. But I don’t think Les Mis is chained to the past.

Sexual slavery and oppression aren’t merely in history books. Women today face poverty, trafficking, domestic abuse, rape, assault. Even if we don’t personally confront these struggles, we all must deal with binding constrictions of sexism and rape culture, which Les Mis illustrates.

When Anne Hathaway infamously (and awesomely!) shut down Matt Lauer’s douchebaggy slut-shaming on the Today Show after paparazzi took a crotch shot of her, she said:

“Well, it was obviously an unfortunate incident. Um, I think — It kinda made me sad on two accounts. One was that I was very sad that we live in an age when someone takes a picture of another person in a vulnerable moment and, rather than delete it, and do the decent thing, sells it. And I’m sorry that we live in a culture that commodifies sexuality of unwilling participants, which brings us back to Les Mis, because that’s what my character is — she is someone who is forced to sell sex to benefit her child, because she has nothing and there’s no social safety net. And I— Yeah, so, um, so let’s get back to Les Mis.”

Hathaway is right, Fantine — and so many other women like her — have no safety net. Without healthcare, education, paid sick leave, adequate day care and social assistance programs, today’s impoverished single mothers have few options.

Les Mis also sheds light on rape culture. After Fantine fights back against a man harassing her, putting snow down her dress, she’s the one punished, not the assailant. Inspector Javert wants to arrest Fantine, reinforcing a victim-blaming rape culture which criminalizes and demonizes women’s behavior and punishes victims/survivors, rather than the perpetrators of abuse and assault. With the global rape epidemic now taking center stage — Steubenville, Jyoti Singh Pandey in India, Notre Dame’s rape cover-up — we must question how we as a society perpetuate and enable violence against women.

Feminism and social justice push us to not only see the world from our own perspective and privilege. But to see it from others’ perspectives and circumstances as well. Now I recognize it’s problematic that Fantine can only achieve salvation and peace in death. Or that she becomes a saintly prostitute, a symbolic Mary Magdalene. But through Fantine’s eyes, we see the horrors of poverty, trafficking, sexism and rape culture. She symbolizes the oppression women combat — throughout history and today.
Fighting oppression, looking at the intersectionality of gender and class, critiquing – these are the core of Les Mis’ message. Isn’t that what feminism is all about?