Michael Fassbender – Bitch Flicks

Alicia Vikander Stars As World War I Feminist and Pacifist in James Kent’s ‘Testament of Youth’

Director James Kent: “People offer me these projects and I’m immediately intrigued by the woman’s story in history because often I think women are written out of in history because they are the underdogs. Often it’s a better story than the one who’s king; he’s got it all his way. “

This is a guest post by Paula Schwartz.

Featuring an interview with director James Kent

Alicia Vikander, who recently embodied female robotic perfection in Ex Machina, stars in James Kent’s circa 1914 drama Testament of Youth. The movie is adapted from the World War I memoirs of British pacifist and feminist Vera Brittain, who spoke for her generation when she chronicled her wartime struggles and losses. Brittain, contrary to the wishes of her family and what was expected of women at that time, pursued an Oxford education instead of a husband. Instead she fell in love with her brother’s friend, Roland (Kit Harington from Game of Thrones), and deferred her education to serve as a nurse on the French War Front. Sweepingly romantic and seemingly old fashioned on the surface, the feistiness and determination of the heroine gives the story a modern kick.

Vikander is having a moment, and the director, making his feature film debut, lucked out in his timing. At a recent press event to promote the film, he told me that if he had cast Vikander now he wouldn’t be able to afford her. The Swedish actress first came on everyone’s radar as Denmark’s queen in A Royal Affair, while the sci-fi Ex Machina propelled her to the next level. She seems to be everywhere with at least five other films scheduled for release this year. She will soon appear with Eddie Redmayne in Tom Hooper’s highly anticipated film, The Danish Girl.

Vikander is dating Michael Fassbender, whom she met when they made The Light Between Oceans, also scheduled for release this year. The 26-year-old actress was staying at the same hotel where she and the director were promoting the film. Now with her sudden celebrity, paparazzi circled outside the Crosby Street Hotel for hours in hopes of getting shots of Vikander and Fassbender leaving together.

Following are highlights from my interview with director James Kent about his film, his inspirations and especially his star:

Talk about the movie’s pacing and how you told the story.

James Kent: It’s not rushed, so you enter the film and you have these moments where you think, I’ve got a moment to think about what I’ve just seen. Otherwise it’s like plot, plot, plot, and you can’t stay in her head. And there’s a slightly reflective quality to the film that allows, hopefully, certain elements of the audience who get it to feel that it speaks to them singularly. Otherwise it could be boring.

Also I had never made a feature film. I made documentaries and television dramas, so this was my first feature I was obviously anxious to prove that I would be able to shed the televisual side, which is different, although it’s more cinematic now than it’s ever been. There’s a sort of different type of vernacular for television than cinema, and I wanted to make a film that felt like cinema.

You didn’t get the memo that audiences don’t want to see female heroines in film?

I didn’t get that memo and you know what, I think cinema isn’t getting the memo either at the moment. There’s Far From the Madding Crowd. There’s going to be the Suffragette movie. There’s Brooklyn with Saoirse Ronan and Mad Max: Fury Road starring Charlize Theron. I think, finally, they are waking up to the fact that most of the audience is actually women.

This is your first narrative film, but you’ve made television movies featuring women, including Maggie about Margaret Thatcher. Are you especially drawn to woman protagonists?

People offer me these projects and I’m immediately intrigued by the woman’s story in history because often I think women are written out of in history because they are the underdogs. Often it’s a better story than the one who’s king; he’s got it all his way. What’s a better story than Joan of Arc? And I also happen to be a gay man and I think that gay men also are underdogs, so maybe there’s a connectivity I feel is there between myself and the women’s experience. I also think women are much more psychologically alert and emotionally alert.

World War I is not an especially known subject for Americans. Were you concerned it would find an audience here?

It was a challenge, but what I’m hoping is that the power of Vera’s story and her pioneering spirit, which is largely in a love story but beyond that because Roland dies, it’s about a woman who powers herself and inspires herself to do what she always wanted to do, which is to become a writer. I think that’s a universal story. That’s not a World War I story.

Also the way I filmed it–because it’s filmed in a very subjective way–it’s very much her interior mind, and I think that modernizes that story. It’s not a 100-year period film. It’s a story about love and loss and rebuilding. You could have done that in modern dress.

You have a wonderful supporting cast but your star, Alicia Vikander, is basically the whole film. Your timing couldn’t be better. You got her right after A Royal Affair and Anna Karenina and before Ex Machina. She has about five other films coming out this year.

What can I say? It’s her film. We were fated. God smiled on us. Alicia Vikander was free, available, affordable, willing. And it was my first film! What more could a first film director want? And then to have her and then to have Taron Egerton, who’s in Kingsman, also on the rise. And Kit Harington, who’s in Game of Thrones, phenomenally successful, but all fresh, all not seen in the cinema world by big English language audiences.

I think Alicia produces a very specific Vera. There’s a sort of gritty determination, powerhouse there. You know she was a ballerina with the Swedish Royal Ballet from the age of 9. Now think of Black Swan. There’s a particular kind of girl who has that fortitude to be a dancer. They’re ambitious. They’re also very determined. And they set themselves the highest standards. And that’s what Vera did, and I think Alicia immediately focuses us on those qualities. An actress, what they do is they allow the audience to immediately focus on a particular aspect of that person that the film’s about. Another actress will alter that. It doesn’t mean they won’t do a great role, but you’ll have a different impression of that person. Alicia brings out some of the core qualities of Vera really within the first few seconds of meeting her. You know. You sense because that’s what Alicia’s like.

The scenes where Vera and her brother and Roland and a friend are bathing in the pond are particularly effective because of what happens later to all of them. Were the water scenes as much fun to shoot as to watch?

There was no joking around. That water was 8 degrees. And we’re talking February in England. I mean that was a lot of production panic because of my desire to have them in the water. Luckily we shot that part late because we didn’t want to kill off our actress. But she has no body fat. I mean her body double for the close-ups, she could stay in there. But Alicia because she’s so slim, that water went straight to her bones and so she was in and out. She never complained. Incredible.

You came into the project rather late, in 2012 when there was already a script in place. Did you make major changes?

It shifted. My agent told me as a first time film director I would only have a certain element of power. If it goes well, the second film you’ll have a lot more power. And that’s how it works. You desperately want the film to happen. I’m also in love with the script and it so happened coincidentally a great friend of mine, Juliette Towhidi, had written the script, so I did love the script but there were things that I wanted changed. I wanted more internalizing on the script, more subjectivity from her viewpoint. I wanted the War to be clarified. I didn’t want to stint on the warfare and the suffering that the audience would have but I didn’t want it to be too much either.

The love scenes are so understated, which makes them even sexier. What inspires you?

I’m quite good at romance. Some of my television projects are about romance and I’m very good at asking actors to do follow my direction that less is more, but to do it with their eyes, and with their mouth, and with their hands. Like that scene in the café, where they touch fingers, that was straight out of David Lean’s Brief Encounter for me.

I was very inspired by that movie. That’s a movie with Celia Johnson and she has this sort of internal voice and it’s like a close up and it’s all about trains and separation. These are the things Testament has in it and I love the lavish amount of romanticism of Brief Encounter. It was radical for its time to do that, to have internal voices and the way it’s shot. It’s just so radical, and I found that inspiring.

What I do, I try desperately to look for film references because you’re trying to give your crew and actors something to watch and say, “Look, it’s got a semblance of this.” I find it really hard to find things that I love. I love movies but I find it really hard to find something specific for the one that I’m making, but that came closest. And also as you can tell, a bit of Gone With the Wind. Because I think there’s also something about Vera and Scarlett O’Hara, there’s something about her feistiness, she won’t be told what to do by men.

Paula Schwartz is a veteran journalist who worked at the New York Times for three decades. For five years she was the Baguette for the New York Times movie awards blog Carpetbaggers. Before that she worked on the New York Times night life column, Boldface, where she covered the celebrity beat. She endured a poke in the ribs by Elijah Wood’s publicist, was ejected from a party by Michael Douglas’s flak after he didn’t appreciate what she wrote, and endured numerous other indignities to get a story. More happily she interviewed major actors and directors–all of whom were good company and extremely kind–including Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Morgan Freeman, Clint Eastwood, Christopher Plummer, Dustin Hoffman and the hammy pooch “Uggie” from The Artist. Her idea of heaven is watching at least three movies in a row with an appreciative audience that’s not texting. Her work has appeared in Moviemaker, more.com, showbiz411 and reelifewithjane.com.

Facing the Horror of ’12 Years a Slave’

Spirituals and folk songs were essential in African American history–they allowed slaves to communicate and to collaborate. They were a subtle way to resist slavery and develop community (which was exactly what chattel slavery sought to demolish). White people–as the aforementioned overseer demonstrates–often co-opt these important black cultural pastimes, which is something to keep in mind as we seek to hear and see–but not take–African American stories.

Written by Leigh Kolb

As we walked out of the theater from seeing 12 Years a Slave–still tear-stained and overwhelmed–a wealthy-looking white couple filed out behind us.

“That didn’t seem like 12 years,” the woman said.

“It seemed like it to me,” the man replied.

My husband and I discussed which comment was worse–hers, that seemed to diminish Solomon’s terrible journey, or his, that indicated the film was too boring or long.

I wondered what would have compelled this couple to come see this particular film. Awards buzz? Prestige? I don’t know, but I was both horrified and unsurprised at their reaction.

While I don’t imagine their response was shared by most, or even many, audience members, there was something about that retirement-aged white man in a crisp popped collar that made me seethe.

I think, more than anything, this couple represents the response of so many whites in the face of our brutal history.

Because our American history–built on slavery–is so frequently whitewashed, we are not confronted enough with our short-term memory loss and the privilege of not hearing or seeing the cruelties of our recent past.

White audiences rarely have to feel uncomfortable. We are typically the protagonists, the victors, the complex characters. Our stories are universal–or at least they’re marketed as such.

Hopefully, this is starting to change.

12 Years a Slave is the first time a slave narrative has been given the Hollywood treatment, which is almost unbelievable. The slave narrative at its very core is a hero’s journey, and the fact that filmmakers have not looked to these first-person accounts as screenplay material points to a much larger issue in our society.

White America is so deeply ignorant and/or ashamed of its history, these stories are pushed aside, relegated to African American Literature classes. These stories are otherized, even though they are our history.

12 Years a Slave–which will surely be nominated for and win its fair share of awards–is an amazing film. The acting and Steve McQueen’s directing are brilliant, the score is perfect, and its importance is poignant. It is interesting, though, that the director and most actors are not American (with the exception of Brad Pitt, who plays the good-guy Canadian who helps Solomon regain freedom). Chiwetel Ejiofor, who plays Solomon, is incredible. Michael Fassbender’s Edwin Epps is horrifying.

It’s difficult to see our white American selves as the enemy, and for black American directors, I can’t imagine the obstacles against telling those stories. (I’ll think there’s been some kind of real breakthrough when a Nat Turner film gets made for mass audiences.)

Solomon, kidnapped and sold into slavery, with Epps

One of the powerful aspects of the film is its score. The first half of the film features Hans Zimmer’s punctuated horror music, which seems mildly out of place but also perfect, because we are watching a horror film. The vocal music we hear–painfully infectiously–is a white overseer singing “Run, N-gger, Run.” It fits well with the horror theme. This folk song, however, began as a song that slaves would sing, and then it was co-opted as a threat instead of a chant. At this point in the film, everything that Solomon had, that was his, is gone and has been sold.

Another perfect soundtrack choice during these scenes is when Bible verses and sermons are spoken as an abused slave is wailing, or the cruel overseer is spewing pejoratives. This is a not-so-subtle reminder that slavers and those who supported slavery used Christianity to defend the practice.

We only start hearing slave spirituals and folk songs sung by the slaves themselves about halfway through the film–in resignation, almost, as if there is nothing we all can do except cope with the terrible situation. When Solomon starts singing along to “Roll Jordan Roll” after a fellow slave dies in the cotton field, we know he has changed.

Solomon’s story isn’t over there, thankfully, but when he starts singing, we know he has changed.

And so have we.

At least we should.

Solomon has–to an extent–resigned and begun to see himself as part of the groups of slaves (more so than when he was lynched, which was one of the most excruciating scenes, next to the rape and whipping of Patsey, played by an incredible Lupita Nyong’o). He is now part of a community, which he wasn’t before, and this makes his return to freedom painful–because they are still enslaved. Spirituals and folk songs were essential in African American history–they allowed slaves to communicate and to collaborate. They were a subtle way to resist slavery and develop community (which was exactly what chattel slavery sought to demolish). White people–as the aforementioned overseer demonstrates–often co-opt these important black cultural pastimes, which is something to keep in mind as we seek to hear and see–but not take–African American stories.

Black Americans have many other stories besides the tragedies that are starting to seep onto the big screen. It’s incredibly important that we be forced to see these tragedies because we are still so remarkably racist, and we haven’t learned our history.

However, we need more than that. We need much more than the “lonely slave narrative” to actually effect change.

One of the previews before 12 Years a Slave was for All is Lost, which was being promoted heavily at the theater. This film is about a man who gets lost at sea. That’s it. No dialogue, no other characters–just one white man being tousled about in the ocean.

While I’m sure it’s a lovely film (and I’m SURE crisp-shirt Richie Rich will love it), it’s amazing that these films can get made–repeatedly. “White man has problem.” “White man has problem.” “White man has problem.”

However, with black films we’re slipping into “Important Black Film” territory–and we need more than that. We need films that accurately portray the years of suffering that we’ve denied. And from a screenplay perspective, what rich source material we have to work from.

Then, and only then, can we move from the jarring and uncomfortable horror music to songs sung in harmony–songs of mourning, of celebrating, of coping, of togetherness. Only when we face the horror can we go forward together.

Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

‘The Counselor’ and the Feminist Commentary of Ferrari Fucking

The honesty of a man saying, “What the hell was that?” when a woman is trying to do what society expects her to do to be sexy is a pretty clear indication of how our raunch culture makes fools out of women who try to fit into it.
If Reiner had loved it, I think I would have found that scene incredibly Problematic From a Feminist Perspective™. But he didn’t. This otherwise misogynistic character was baffled and troubled by this kind of display.

The Counselor poster — *The Counselor* poster

Written by Leigh Kolb

As press began trickling out about The Counselor, headlines about how “Cameron Diaz fucks a car” (a Ferrari) dominated my news feeds.

I did not expect that scene to be brilliant. But it kind of was.

The Counselor is by no means the “worst movie ever made.” The writing–Cormac McCarthy’s first screenplay venture–was lovely, if at times a bit much (as one might imagine a script by a novelist would be). The acting was incredible. Ridley Scott’s direction is poignant. This also isn’t the best film ever made, but it has enough strong points.

The two prominent women characters did fit into the problematic virgin/whore dichotomy, but overall I was surprisingly pleased at the depictions of female sexuality on screen, and the larger meaning of those scenes.

The opening scene (which The New York Times describes in loving detail) finds the audience in bed with our protagonist, the Counselor (Michael Fassbender) and his soon-to-be fiancée, Laura (Penélope Cruz). Their exchange is intimate, and he wants her to tell him what to do to her. While she’s slightly shy and hesitant, they are comfortable together. He retreats downward to perform oral sex on her, and she orgasms. Enthusiastically.

In the opening scene, we see a focus on female pleasure that is often foreign in heavily masculine films like this. They have just woken up, but he doesn’t want her to “tidy up.” Their white-sheet-wrapped love seems meaningful and real.

The bulk of the film, of course, follows the Counselor (he is nameless; other characters refer to him only in relation to his identity as a lawyer) and his decision to enter into a drug deal to make some fast money. This descent into a different world happens toward the beginning of the film, and what follows is a classic morality play, in which our prince falls, bringing those around him down with him. The dialogue, like the morality play itself, is Shakespearean, which is a bit much for most modern audiences. (There is a lot of talking…)

Hero, moral dilemma, advice from dubious sources, downfall, pile of dead bodies. Yeah, sounds pretty Shakespearean.

The two women characters are also quite Shakespearean with their subtle complexities and clear contrasts, which push us to consider what feminine power is and how we are supposed to judge the characters who surround them by their relationship with women. The Counselor deeply loves Laura and acts baffled when Reiner (Javier Bardem) speaks with disrespect/bawdiness about women. The Counselor loves giving women pleasure. Reiner sees women as dangerous liabilities.

Malkina, left, and Laura reveal their characters as they discuss diamonds and sex.

Reiner’s girlfriend–who we meet as she’s riding a horse across the desert with a cheetah by their side–is Malkina (Cameron Diaz). She is certainly a cheetah herself–gorgeous, fast, sleek, frightening, and threatening. Her role is impressive and important.

But about that Ferrari scene.

We see the scene as a flashback while Reiner is talking to the Counselor about something he’d “like to forget.” That something is the time that Malkina fucked his yellow Ferrari.

Malkina is trying really hard. Really hard. She slips off her panties and tells him she’s going to fuck his car. She climbs up on the windshield, descends into the splits, and goes to town right above Reiner’s face.

This scene–in which a gorgeous woman has sex with a luxury automobile to try to be really sexy and get off (on the luxury itself?)–is telling in how absolutely ludicrous it is. Reiner is “stunned”–and it doesn’t seem like he’s stunned in a good way. It’s just ridiculous.

(And OK, Reiner’s “catfish” description from his vantage point was funny–when he talks about the “gynecological” display upon the glass in terms of one of those “bottom feeders you see going up the way of the aquarium sucking its way up the glass,” that just intensifies how stupid the whole thing is.) Variety has the dialogue from that scene.

LOL — In its stupidity lies its feminist commentary.

Malkina’s immorality is essential in this morality story. The power she wields is significant–she’s certainly more malicious and skillful than our leading men. However, we are not supposed to be rooting for Malkina (even though we can find her wiles pretty amazing).

The symbolism of her fucking a Ferrari, and getting off in the process (the Counselor is very interested in whether or not she was able to orgasm), shows us just how materialistic she is. It’s not about human pleasure, it’s about object pleasure.

It’s not about genuine, self-aware female sexuality. It is ridiculous. And Reiner’s description of the fish on the aquarium? That’s exactly what it would look like. So dammit, I think it’s hilarious. The honesty of a man saying, “What the hell was that?” when a woman is trying to do what society expects her to do to be sexy is a pretty clear indication of how our raunch culture makes fools out of women who try to fit into it.

If Reiner had loved it, I think I would have found that scene incredibly Problematic From a Feminist Perspective™. But he didn’t. This otherwise misogynistic character was baffled and troubled by this kind of display.

Laura and Malkina aren’t as fully developed as they probably could have been (early on it’s clear that Laura=good and Malkina=bad when the two are having a conversation and Malkina can give Laura all of the details about Laura’s engagement diamond–and Laura doesn’t even want to know how much it’s worth–and their conversations about sexuality make Malkina seem the whore and Laura seem virginal).

In the promo stills, the men were allowed to have wrinkles, the women were not.

I did appreciate, though, how the women were their age. As disturbing as the marketing for the film was, these women are presented as neither younger than they actually are nor trying to be younger. While they are beautiful, they have wrinkles. While they are sexy, they are not 20. This is refreshing.

The Counselor isn’t the best–or the worst–film ever made. However, its artistic merit as a modern-day morality play and its representation of and commentary about femininity and female sexuality make it stand out.

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Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

Indie Spirit Best International Feature Nominee: Shame

Shame (2011)

This is a guest post from Clint Waters.

“We’re not bad people. We just come from a bad place.”

Shame, Director Steve McQueen‘s second feature-length film (which he also co-wrote the screenplay for) tells the tale of Brandon Sullivan, played by Michael Fassbender. This is McQueen and Fassbender’s second film working together, the first being Hunger (2008). Mr. Sullivan is a successful bachelor who has struck a tremulous balance between his professional life and his secret addiction to sex. The comfortable routine that he has settled into is disturbed, however, when his sister Sissy Sullivan, played by Carey Mulligan, decides to crash at his place for a few nights.

Although that little synopsis might not sound so riveting, it is McQueen’s writing/direction along with Fassbender and Mulligan’s acting abilities that makes this a truly awesome film. And I don’t mean to say “awesome” in the watered-down, lackluster way that it is used every day. I was literally awe-struck for at least 9/10s of the movie. Although it gets off to a slow start and the narrative isn’t necessarily complicated, the two main characters will put you through a gamut of emotions.

Aside from excellent performances, the cinematography of this piece is responsible for every stricken nerve. This is due to the camera’s unapologetic presence in each scene. Sometimes over the shoulder or sneaking from the side, each shot is generally in the characters’ faces, quite literally.

For example, in a scene where Brandon and his boss (who turns out to be a real sleaze) go to see Sissie sing at a ritzy establishment, the camera is intimately close to her:

Carey Mulligan as Sissy Sullivan

That picture doesn’t necessarily serve the scene justice, as at one point Mulligan’s face is the only thing visible, almost invoking the famous singing lips of the Rocky Horror intro. The camera’s (pardon the pun) in-your-face position subjects the viewer to every minuscule tremor of emotion present in the lips and eyes. It is almost unsettling, as it does not offer a safe place to rest your eyes (which, of course, makes it a magnificent tactic).

You may notice that I use words like “uncomfortable” or “unsettling” a lot throughout this review. The music doesn’t do anything to alleviate the general discomfiting feel of the film. Saying that the score of Shame is sparse might be an understatement. Disquieting scenes are made all that much more upsetting because there isn’t any music to lean upon. However, when instruments are finally introduced it is in the classical style, lending a juxtaposition between the emotionally horrific subject matter and the music we associate with beauty and grace.

Perhaps the film’s most impressive aspect is its treatment of sex. As mentioned above, Brandon is a sex addict. However, there is nothing even remotely “sexy” about the numerous (and I mean numerous) sexual encounters that Brandon achieves. Shame is a masterful character study and is very informative about a subject that we don’t really talk about as a society or that we dismiss readily. People joke that if they had to be stricken with an addiction, sex would be their choice. I would recommend they watch this film before making such haughty claims.

On a very basic level it is a downward-spiral narrative as seen is other addiction-based films. However, unlike a film such as Blow, where drug addiction has its peak then descends into madness and poverty, Shame is one long “all is lost!” moment, degrading from “manageable” to an almost primal need to score (in Brandon’s case, engage in sexual activity). This is where the amazing acting comes into play with Fassbender’s hauntingly hollow and hurt gazes toward the camera, ergo the viewer. It is evident that although Brandon is addicted to the pleasure of intercourse, he doesn’t enjoy it. The addiction has become a crippling factor of his psyche, as he can’t even ride the subway or have access to a computer without actively seeking sex or pornography.

In the first portion of the film’s climax we see Brandon on the subway, looking a little worse-for-wear: flushed and sporting a gash on his cheek. The film takes a risk here, as the otherwise linear narrative breaks apart, allowing us to see just how he made it to this moment. Without giving too much away, allow me to say that when it is revealed how his face got cut, we see the otherwise sympathy-worthy character turn himself over to the addiction and become someone else entirely. Someone sinister and ultimately disgusting. And he doesn’t stop there. By the end of the flashback sessions we find him pull out a last resort and cruise a gay bar/sex den.

I will pause the review in order to address the mild controversy that has arisen from this segment of the film. I will say that although Brandon’s all-time-low is engaging in homosexuality, this isn’t meant to paint a negative picture of homosexuals. Instead, it is only used to illustrate the lengths and personal boundaries that Brandon will sacrifice in order to get his fix. Throughout the film, Brandon is depicted by an exclusively heterosexual man. As a gay man, I rationalized it thusly: for Brandon, having sex with a man is equivalent to a homosexual having heterosexual sex, a.k.a. something uncomfortable and not very enjoyable. If Brandon’s character had been a homosexual, perhaps this rock-bottom moment would be conveyed using a run-of-the-mill night club and some heavy-handed seduction of a lady.

Resuming the review. A mysterious but cringe-worthy aspect of this film is the dynamic between Brandon and Sissie. The quote that I used to open this review is from Sissie on a voicemail to Brandon just before the final gut-punch of the film (which I most certainly will not give away). I think this is a reference to Brandon and Sissie’s shared early life, which may or may not have been sexually abusive. This particular plot point is my only negative critique. Although I don’t oppose including such an element to the character’s back-story (as it would flesh them out and perhaps give another empathetic foot-hold for viewers), instead I am disappointed at how much of a mystery they left it.

Fassbender and Mulligan

There is a particularly nail-biting scene where Brandon and Sissie are sitting on the couch. The camera (of course) is positioned just behind them so their profiles or on either side of the screen, the television just visible beyond them. Within this scene their characters are deepened a considerable amount, as they explore the obligations present in being siblings but overall the responsibilities we have as people. However, the film misses this great opportunity for one of them to mention what about their childhood could turn Brandon into a sex addict and Sissie into a fly-by-night codependent.

All in all, Shame is certainly worthy of any award it is nominated for. The characters are riveting despite the missed chance at depth, the camerawork inspires an almost invasive yet voyeuristic feel and it is one of the very few films that deal with sex addiction in a mature manner.

Clint Waters is a creative writing major, German minor at Western Kentucky University. He is in his final year and hopes to pursue any career that remotely deals with writing in a creative fashion. Visit his blog at redintooth.tumblr.com

‘Haywire’ Review: Gender and an Ass-Kicking Woman

Gina Carano as Mallory Kane in ‘Haywire’

Who is Gina Carano? That question might haunt you after watching Haywire or seeing its trailer. We need more women in films, especially in the action genre. But is having a film revolve around a tough, smart female protagonist who kicks ass enough to change gender roles on-screen?

With an impressive supporting cast (Michael Fassbender, Ewan McGregor, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas), Haywire centers around Gina Carano as Mallory Kane, an ex-Marine black ops expert assigned a dangerous mission to rescue a journalist. When she’s double-crossed, she goes on the run, playing a deadly game of cat-and-mouse to uncover the truth. Told in a non-linear narrative, the interesting plot ensnares you in the action and web of deceit.

Carano gives a solid performance in a good (not great) movie, especially considering she has practically no acting experience. Like stuntwoman-turned-actor Zoe Bell, she didn’t get her start in acting. Instead, Carano forged her career in MMA (mixed martial arts). Nicknamed “Conviction,” Carano is known as the “Face of Women’s MMA,” a title she herself refutes. In only her second film, Carano headlines Haywire, catapulting her into the Hollywood limelight.

Director Steven Soderbergh said he was frustrated as a filmgoer. He was tired of watching action films lacking visual aesthetics. So he set out to create an action film “beautiful to look at.” As he flipped through the TV channels one night, Soderbergh stumbled upon Gina Carano beating the shit out of another woman in a match. She struck a chord in him and he wanted to build a project around her, an authentic action film. Rather than having a female actor undergo grueling training or hire a stunt double, he submerged Carano, a highly accomplished champion Muay Thai fighter, into method acting, including having a former Mossad (Israeli intelligence) agent ambush her outside a hair salon. Okay, that’s just ridiculous! Soderbergh asked Ryan Kavanaugh, head of Relativity Media:

“’Why is Angelina Jolie the only female action star in the world?…Because someone made her that way, and I’m going to make Gina into one of the biggest action stars in the world.”

Yes, my sentiments exactly! Why is there only one female action star in the world?? It’s about time a male director wonders the same damn question I ask myself on an almost daily basis. While many women appear in action films, they often fall prey to gender trappings and stereotypes. But women in films don’t have to be pigeon-holed as demure or dainty. Mallory, who “doesn’t like to leave loose ends” on an assignment, unwinds by drinking a glass of wine and cleaning her guns. In fact the film even went so far as deepening Carano’s voice. And women don’t have to be relegated to the sidelines as the rescued victim or the hero’s girlfriend. We need to see more empowered, competent women take charge in films.With a Spartan script, Soderbergh puts the best thing front and center: Carano’s action sequences. Some great scenes unfold when Carano is opposite Michael Fassbender, a truly amazing chameleon, effortlessly sinking into any role. They share a very Mr. and Mrs. Smith-esque moment as two spies dressing up for a black tie affair. But of course the best scenes are when Carano fights. Or runs. There’s an incredible shot of her running as fast as she can through the streets of Barcelona. Her moves astonish. No wires, no stunt doubles. It’s all Carano herself. And that’s pretty fucking awesome.

Mallory Kane (Gina Carano); ‘Haywire’ still frame

Haywire reminded me of Salt or a grittier Alias. But the difference is Salt was originally written for a man. When Angelina Jolie wanted the role, they altered the character. The protagonist Salt was originally supposed to have a child. But Jolie said that no mother would ever become a CIA operative (hmmm not sure about that) so the child was erased from the script. When she’s trying to escape a building, she’s wearing a skirt and slips off her underwear to cover up the surveillance camera. After she’s injured, she goes into a bathroom and rips out the tampon/sanitary pad machine. Then she straps a few pads to her bloody wound. Gendered moves like these don’t exist in Haywire.But maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, maybe it’s awesome that there’s no gender commentary but that the film simply revolves around a woman. In fact, the only time gender is mentioned happens when SPOILER -> Michael Fassbender tells Ewan McGregor, “I’ve never done a woman before,” meaning he’s never killed a woman. McGregor assures him not to think of her as a woman. I’m reminded of The Professional and how Jean Reno’s character refused to assassinate women or children. Society views women differently simply because of their gender.

The film contains some brutally graphic fighting sequences. I found the opening scene especially jarring. While I love action films, I abhor the glorification of violence against women. But it never felt like that. Instead I found it refreshing for the action scenes to not be softened because of Carano’s gender.

But regardless of her gender, Mallory Kane is clearly the best of the best in the film’s universe. Michael Douglas’s character pays an exorbitant amount of money to take her out of another assignment in order to hire her for his own project. She combats men (and wins), chokes people with her thighs, leaps across buildings, shoots guns, rides motorcycles, runs up a wall, drives a car backwards in the snow and disarms guns from law enforcement. There’s seriously nothing Mallory (and probably Carano) can’t do.

Another interesting component happens when Mallory seduces a man. I usually don’t like when a woman has sex in an action film as it usually reduces her identity to her sexuality and her relationship with a man defines her. But here it’s unusual because you don’t often see women as the initiator, not for any other motives other than she wants to have sex. I kinda like that.

Sadly, besides Carano, Haywire is adrift in a sea of men, men, men as far as the eye can see. Her employers, colleagues, villainous foes, the guy she accidentally carjacks….all men. Salt suffered that problem too. But Hanna, another female ops action film, not only had several women in it but included female friendship and cooperation. Sadly, that’s lacking here. They could have included both her parents in the film so we at least see her interact with another woman. But nope. It’s only her dad…yet another dude.

Putting a tough, smart and capable woman front and center, Haywire is a step in the right direction. And I always love seeing fierce ladies kick ass. But we don’t live in a world that revolves around men. Oh wait, yeah we do. It’s time we changed that…on-screen and in reality.