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‘Game of Thrones’ Week: The Roundup

Check out all of the posts from our ‘Game of Thrones’ Theme Week here.

Bowed, Bent, and Broken: Examining the Women of Color on Game of Thrones by Clara Mae

With the women of color being so scarce in the show, it’s just as important to look at the quality of these portrayals. While Game of Thrones does give us some strong women of color, many of them are portrayed problematically in their own ways: either put into subservient roles, exoticized, demonized, or otherwise discarded by the narrative in ways that the white characters aren’t.

Let’s Talk About the Children: War and the Loss of Innocence on Game of Thrones by Amy Woolsey

Children have always figured prominently in Game of Thrones, but their presence seems especially meaningful this [fourth] season, as we get a clearer glimpse of the war’s effect on bystanders, people not entrenched in political intrigue and behind-the-scenes strategizing.

Game of Thrones: Does It Feel Worse to Cheer For or Against Daenerys? by Katherine Murray

It’s hard to ignore that this is a white woman from a foreign nation who feels it’s her birthright to teach a bunch of brown people how they should behave. … On the flip side, watching a woman lose power on Game of Thrones always seems to involve watching her be sexually victimized somehow, which I can’t really get on board with, no matter how awful she is.

Why I Will Miss Ygritte’s Fierce Feminism on Game of Thrones by Jackie Johnson

Ygritte was fierce, she was vibrant, and she didn’t take any shit. Ygritte’s feminism was multi-dimensional, and for me she will always be missed.

When Brienne Met Jaime: The Rom-Com Hiding in Game of Thrones by Victoria Edel

But in that web of gloom, there’s this beautiful shining light: Brienne and Jaime. And while rom-coms are not often praised for their realism, to me, this couple is the most grounded, sensible thing about the show.

Game of Thrones: Catelyn Stark and Motherhood Tropes by Sophie Hall

Catelyn Stark’s main function in the show is to be a mother to Robb Stark, a prominent male character, whereas in the book series, A Song of Ice and Fire, she is so much more than that. … The show creators are here relying on mother tropes in order to set up the characters; Catelyn is now the nag who only cares about her family and nothing else, whereas Ned is now the valiant hero who wants to seek justice.

Game of Thrones: Is Jon Snow Too Feminine for the Masculine World? by Siobhan Denton

Whilst ostensibly male in terms of gender, Jon Snow’s character is arguably definably feminine through his actions, motivations and interactions with both female and male characters. … This is not to suggest that Jon’s character is not masculine; certainly his actions in battle signal him to be a hero in the archetypical sense, but I am suggesting that Jon Snow’s masculinity coexists with a feminine expression…

In Game of Thrones the Mother of Dragons Is Taking Down the Patriarchy by Megan Kearns

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

Another Dead Sex Worker on Game of Thrones by Amanda Rodriguez

Even after the finale of its fourth season, the HBO series Game of Thrones continues its reputation for unpredictability and for subverting our genre expectations. However, a glaring pattern of predictability is emerging: all sex workers with significant roles will die horribly. Think about it.

“Love No One But Your Children”: Cersei Lannister and Motherhood on Game of Thrones by Sophie Hall

Cersei Lannister is cunning, deceitful, jealous and entirely about self-preservation. Yet, her show self seems to tie these exclusively with her relationship with her children… Why is motherhood the go-to in order to flesh out her character? Why can’t she be separate from her children, the same way the father of them, Jaime Lannister, is?

The Occasional Purposeful Nudity on Game of Thrones by Lady T

In fact, the difference between gratuitous nudity and artistic nudity is not that difficult to discern. Even Game of Thrones, the show that puts the word “tit” in “titillation,” occasionally uses nudity in a way that isn’t exploitative and adds to a scene rather than detracting from it.

Controversy is Coming for Game of Thrones by Rachel Redfern

Here’s the thing–for all of its controversy (which isn’t hurting the show’s viewership, I’m sure), people are still connecting to this show and are connecting to the terrible, senseless, often difficult situations that they have to struggle through. Game of Thrones offers us, and its characters, no clear way out of mess, no neatly tied up episode endings, hell, even the most devoted fans can only speculate on the series’ ending. This show hosts both the unknown future and the sadly familiar past of familial dysfunction and bad romantic choices.

Sex Workers Are Disposable on Game of Thrones by Gaayathri Nair

When we are introduced to Ros, she is working in Winterfell but as war approaches she decides to try her luck in King’s Landing expressing the view that if all the men leave for war there is not going to be much for her in Winterfell. Once there she goes from being “just a sex worker” to getting involved in the politics of the realm by becoming the right hand woman of Little Finger and subsequently double crossing him by becoming an agent for Varys. However despite her many interesting qualities and potential for interesting storylines, Ros basically exists for one reason to provide exposition regarding male characters on the show while naked. She is sexposition personified.

Masculinity in Game of Thrones: More Than Fairytale Tropes by Jess Sanders

Boys are judged on their ability to swing a sword or work a trade, criticised for showing weakness, and taught to grow up hard and cold. Doesn’t sound unfamiliar, does it? Masculinity is praised in Westerosi society, as it is in our own.

Game of Thrones: The Meta-Feminist Arc of Daenerys Targaryen by Amanda Rodriguez

The journey of Daenerys Targaryen is a prototype for female liberation, one that charts women’s emancipation over the centuries and encourages us to push harder and dream bigger for even more freedom now.

Here There Be Sexism?: Game of Thrones and Gender by Megan Kearns

I recognize that there’s a difference between displaying sexism because it’s the time period and condoning said sexism. But this IS a fantasy, not history, meaning the writers can imagine any world they wish to create. So why imagine a misogynistic one?

Motherhood in Film & Television: Spawning the World: Motherhood in Game of Thrones by Rachel Redfern

One of the aspects that struck me in the show though, is the portrayal of motherhood. Far from being absent or swept to the side, the film’s mothers are a driving force in the plot development and are some of the most multi-dimensional of the series (credit has to be given to the actresses who play them).

Gratuitous Female Nudity and Complex Female Characters in Game of Thrones by Lady T

Yes, Game of Thrones is a show that loves its nudity. HBO is known for gratuitous displays of naked ladies in many of its show, but Game of Thrones might as well exist on a network called HBOOB.

Game of Thrones Season 2 Trailer: Will Women Fare Better This Season? by Megan Kearns

Luckily, Season 2 will see an influx of new characters, including lots of female roles. Huzzah! The “Red Priestess” Melisandre of Asshai (Carice van Houten), female warrior (!!!!) Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie), noblewoman Lady Margaery Tyrell (Natalie Dormer), Ygritte (Rose Leslie), the Ironborn captain (double !!!!) Yara Greyjoy (Gemma Whelan) named “Asha” in the novels. Wait, a sorceress, warrior and ship captain?? More women in leadership roles?? Sounds promising!

‘Goodbye To Language’: The Case for Women To Watch “Uncommercial” Films

I never believed the big film executives who, just six years ago, seemed to have unshakeable faith that 3-D technology would save blockbuster films from piracy and audience indifference. It didn’t, the same way 3-D in the 1950s didn’t save big films from losing a lot of their audience to television. But ‘Goodbye To Language’ is the third 3-D art film made by a master I’ve seen (the others are Werner Herzog’s exploration of prehistoric cave paintings, ‘Cave of Forgotten Dreams,’ and Wim Wenders’ magnificent tribute to the work of modern dance choreographer Pina Bausch in ‘Pina’). The jury’s still out on whether this technology will “save” the art film, but great directors are doing creative and unexpected things with it.

Written by Ren Jender.

When I told people I was going to see Goodbye To Language-–the latest film (in 3-D) from 84-year-old, legendary writer-director Jean-Luc Godard (it won him the Jury Prize at Cannes as well the US National Society of Film Critics award for Best Film)–the first question they asked me was, “What’s it about?” I had to confess that most of his films I’ve seen I remember well, but still really couldn’t say what they’re “about”. Godard’s films, except for his first, Breathless, a crime drama, don’t have clear cut plots but are instead a collection of original ideas and scenarios. All of the subsequent Godard films I’ve watched: Weekend, Masculine Feminine, Alphaville, and Contempt from the ’60s (which I saw in the ’80s and ’90s) and Passion from the ’80s (which I also saw in the ’90s) contain indelible images and sequences I think of often, even now, decades later.

Although Godard has continued to make films throughout his life (a glance at his IMDb page shows that he has directed an average of about two films a year since his first feature 55 years ago) many of them have received mixed notices, have failed to get real distribution in the US or both. In the ’60s, ’70s, and early ’80s, subtitled “art” films were much more a part of cultural currency. Instead of treatises on Mad Men, US critics then wrote about the latest from Bergman, Truffaut, Buñuel–or Agnès Varda. But in more recent decades the assumption from film distributors has been that hardly anyone wants to read subtitles–even though lots of us like to read–and the best foreign language films continue to be more interesting than their American counterparts as well as more likely to focus on women and queer characters. Subtitled films’ reputation as “uncommercial” became a self-fulfilling prophecy at theaters and in the home video market.

Godard himself seems aware of this turn of events when toward the beginning of Goodbye To Language he poses the question: what happens to art that becomes “outdated”? He shows two people looking at used paperbacks, discussing Solzhenitsyn, a Soviet dissident whose novels were on American bestseller lists and won awards in the ’60s and ’70s, who has since been eclipsed by the likes of Jonathan Franzen. No matter how much I hate Franzen, I’m not nostalgic for bygone days (no woman or queer person can afford to be) and Godard doesn’t seem to be either. Language’s later scenes, where he shows Mary Shelley, may be his only cinematic foray (out of his 118 stints as director) into the past–and Shelley’s scenes are just a small part of this compact (70 minute) feature.

I never believed the big film executives who, just six years ago, seemed to have unshakeable faith that 3-D technology would save blockbuster films from piracy and audience indifference. It didn’t, the same way 3-D in the 1950s didn’t save big films from losing a lot of their audience to television. But Goodbye To Language is the third 3-D art film made by a master I’ve seen (the others are Werner Herzog’s exploration of prehistoric cave paintings, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, and Wim Wenders’ magnificent tribute to the work of modern dance choreographer Pina Bausch in Pina). The jury’s still out on whether this technology will “save” the art film, but great directors are doing creative and unexpected things with it.

I haven’t sat through a film in which 3-D knives and guns and spurts of blood seem to invade the audience and I probably never will. But at one point during Goodbye To Language I wondered why a chair was suddenly blocking the screen in the theater–I was trying to look around it–until I realized the chair was part of the film, much like the empty onscreen red theater seats of Pina dissolved into the real seats in front of the screen.

In Language Godard seems to be reflecting life as most of us, who rarely if ever indulge in gun or knife play, know it. We see simple moments: a hand grasping a railing or a boat moving through the water and they overlap our own memories, more real and more evocative to us than gore and weapons. I roused myself from nodding off several times (something I hadn’t had to do during previous Godard films) and my subconscious thoughts began to blend with the film, the way in those first few seconds of waking in bed one believes one’s dreams actually happened.

Five days before, I watched a preview screening of a good, funny, feminist action-adventure film (Spy starring Melissa McCarthy, which I’ll review in June, when it’s released), and I was very aware of the difference between the two viewing experiences. As much as I enjoyed Spy, it, like other films of its genre, was too cluttered and noisy to give me the time or space for any thoughts of my own.

Godard plays with our expectations. He seems to be saying, “You want action? I’ll give you action!” We hear a gunshot, dramatic music (his use of music here reminds me a little of how music was used in Under The Skin) and some yelling. We see some blood as well as nudity and sex. He, along with his expert cinematographer, Fabrice Aragno, recognize some of the foibles of 3-D technology, like the airplane in the distant sky in Forgotten Dreams that through 3-D glasses seemed like an insect in front of our faces and corrects them–and overcorrects for faded color (especially noticeable in Herzog’s film). In some of Language’s scenes they gradually dial up the brightness and saturation to make the sky, grass and leaves into abstractions.

A woman (played by Zoé Bruneau) is at the center of a number of the scenes. Women are the focus in many of Godard’s other films and as in those films we see Bruneau’s nude body from every angle–except perhaps the soles of her feet. We see her naked in mundane situations, the way one sees the nude body of a romantic partner. Meanwhile, her naked male partner usually has his crotch out of camera range or in “tasteful” shadow. The woman, “Ivitch,” is often the one talking, but she’s not the protagonist, any more than the dog (Godard’s own dog, Roxie) at the center of many other scenes is.

Because of middling reviews I avoided other recent Godard releases–when a critic who is easier on films than I am describes a movie as “frustrating” I know to stay away. Other critics complained of the “sour” outlook in those films, which seems absent in Language, perhaps in part because of the calming, clear-eyed presence of Roxie in front of the camera. Whenever people talk about or share photos of their dogs, cats, and babies, they risk being bores (I am also a bore when I talk about my cat–she’s so cute and her fur is so soft!), but they are also trying to show us their best selves, the ones that have tender feelings for beings smaller and more vulnerable than they are, beings who also rely on them for their survival. Godard doesn’t ridicule us–or himself–for our obsession with animals, but shows us why we love them. If Roxie trusts Godard, we feel like we should too.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mB5Grs_neA”]

Ren Jender is a queer writer-performer/producer putting a film together. Her writing. besides appearing every week on Bitch Flicks, has also been published in The Toast, RH Reality Check, xoJane and the Feminist Wire. You can follow her on Twitter @renjender

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recommended reading: Thinking Kink: Secretary and the Female Submissive

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

‘Girls’ Season 3: Recap and Roundup

There’s been some uproar, some talk, some criticism, and a lot of excitement about the return of ‘Girls.’ Lena Dunham’s insanely successful show (which for a show about a unsuccessful 20-something girl, strangely leaves me feeling even more unsuccessful as a 20-something girl who doesn’t have my own HBO show), while receiving fairly universal acclaim, has also been the recipient of some harsh criticism: where is the show’s diversity? And why is Dunham always naked?

Written by Rachel Redfern

*Spoiler Alert

[youtube_sc url=”http://youtu.be/wnU13ZHxjGk”]

There’s been some uproar, some talk, some criticism, and a lot of excitement about the return of Girls. Lena Dunham’s insanely successful show (which for a show about a unsuccessful 20-something girl, strangely leaves me feeling even more unsuccessful as a 20-something girl who doesn’t have my own HBO show), while receiving fairly universal acclaim, has also been the recipient of some harsh criticism: where is the show’s diversity? And why is Dunham always naked?

To be fair, both are valuable observations of the darkly comedic show; if you’re going to spend a lot of time naked on screen, what are the reasons? And, for a show about the millennial experience in New York City, why does the show only have white people?

First, for the commentators on the amount of nudity in Girls, I disagree; Dunham’s instances of sex (much like Masters of Sex) appear as way to further the character development, rather than give the audience “sexy times.” Jessa going down on another woman in the second episode, “Truth or Dare,” didn’t feel pandering or exploiting like most “girl on girl” sex scenes are; instead, if felt like an exposure of Jessa using sexuality, along with another person, in order to fulfill her own interest. Or as the Los Angeles Times said, “Dunham is forcing us to reconsider what bodies we value and why. It isn’t just nudity. It’s revolutionary.”

Second, there have been a lot of shows about white women in New York City, so yes, I think it’s time for change. Hopefully in the near future HBO and other prominent networks will expand into more varied character territory. Also, I think Dunham’s been fairly aware of the criticism leveled at the popular show and in her words, “We need to talk about diversifying the world of television. We are trying to continue to do it in ways that are genuine, natural, intelligent, but we heard all of that and really felt it deeply.” I feel it’s too Dunham’s credit as a writer that she “diversify” Girls in a way that flows naturally from the story.

More importantly though, Jessica Williams of The Daily Show glory will have a few spots in Girls season 3 (there’s no way this can turn out badly), and had some amazing thoughts on the situation: “It’s her art and it’s her voice. It’s not her responsibility to write from my experience.” I suggest you read it for yourself, since she says it so much better than I ever could.

nepotism girls — “A little nepotiz” noticed by internet meme people.

There’s also been that nepotism controversy with Dunham, which could be true, but oh well. So Dunham made a TV show with her friends, does it make it any less well-done? Are the children of famous people destined to live a life away from ambition just because their parents were famous? No, (but to be fair, let’s be honest, the saying “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know” is a thing for a reason).

Now, on to the show.

Girls has a more sitcom feeling this year, moving past a lot of the darkness that characterized season two: Hannah’s OCD behavior, Marnie’s failure at everything, and Jessa’s inexplicable disappearance. Season three wraps all those issues up nicely and quickly picks the show up and runs along (though whether a good choice to keep the show moving, or losing key plot and character moments remains to be seen).

Surprisingly, Adam and Hannah’s relationship seems to have mellowed and Adam is by turns deeply disturbing and charming, though more charming than disturbing; which is good since I found his odd rape references in season one really problematic.

But the first few episodes raise some good questions for the audience: what seem to be the most prominent themes of season three? Jessa’s storyline seems to have been built up this year, which I hope for more of as Jessa’s bluntness is, hands down, one of the best things on the show.

As to Marnie, will she find her way out of the wilderness? I especially liked the quick scene of Marnie waiting for the bus in the ‘burbs, a quick moment to show us the alienation that she feels from the city and her former life.

Also, since when was Adam a love guru? Giving impossibly bad advice about making immediate connections with people and “Just knowing that they’re right for you” seems a little off, cause, you know, love at first sight and overwhelming feelings of immediate love were never a bad idea.

One thing to note this season though, is how Dunham has changed as a director. Three years of experience in directing with a first-rate network (HBO) have obviously enhanced the ways that she’s expressing scenes. Dunham and the Girls crew seem much more willing to invest in longer shots and monologue, interjected with quicker moments of character exposition, i.e.: Marnie waiting for the bus, Jessa on her older friend’s bed with a disarmingly sincere smile, Hannah curled up in the leaves listening to This American Life.

Everyone is either bored or geekin' out. Sort of like real life. — Everyone is either bored or geekin’ out. Sort of like real life.

This season seem to be picking up quickly in the arena of gender commentary, most notably in the way that women interact with each other, and the way that women are seen as interacting with each other. Early on Adam voices his opinion on how women behave, saying, “Women get stuck in this vortex of guilt and jealousy with each other that keep them from seeing situations clearly.”

Also, Amy Schumer was there with a weird bit about pregnancy that was terrifying, awkward, hilarious, and probably everything you’ve ever wanted to say to an ex.

Unexpectedly, people seem to be over the Marnie storyline and are instead focusing on Shoshanna, a character viewed as sort of trivial, but who is growing up and into herself by exploring her sexuality after losing her virginity (raise your hand if you’ve been there), while also juggling school and remaining inordinately optimistic about her post-graduation options (oh my god, it’s me).

I can’t wait to see Shoshanna next season when she’s looking for a job.

But, hands down, the best line of the two-episode premier, proving that the show has a few laughs ahead, comes from the indomitable Hannah Horvath: “This rocking chair is so pointed it’s just not giving me any room to express myself.”

Yes Hannah, me too.

See also at Bitch Flicks: Let’s All Take a Deep Breath and Calm the Fuck Down About Lena Dunham, by Stephanie Rogers

The Occasional Purposeful Nudity on ‘Game of Thrones’

In fact, the difference between gratuitous nudity and artistic nudity is not that difficult to discern. Even ‘Game of Thrones,’ the show that puts the word “tit” in “titillation,” occasionally uses nudity in a way that isn’t exploitative and adds to a scene rather than detracting from it.

Written by Lady T.

Much has been said about the gratuitous nudity on Game of Thrones. Several feminist critics (such as yours truly) have written about the objectification of the female characters, and how the writers use naked women as objects for male fantasy or to develop male characters.

Challenging the use of nudity in a TV show or film will predictably result in accusations of prudishness and pearl-clutching, as though feminist critics are nothing but live-action versions of Helen Lovejoy.

“Won’t somebody please think of the children?!”

It’s easy to assume that critics are ranting because they’re too squeamish and repressed to look at pictures of naked women without feeling embarrassed. Leaping to that conclusion is much more comfortable than acknowledging the problematic aspects of using naked female bodies as decoration and masturbatory fodder.

The accusation of prudishness is also a strawman argument, assuming that viewers who object to objectification can’t tell the difference between gratuitous nudity (where naked bodies are used for spank bank material) and nudity that serves an artistic purpose.

One such example can be found in the story of Daenerys Targaryen, a character who is more frequently naked than most other characters on the show. The very first time we see Daenerys, she is a pawn in her brother’s game to earn the throne he feels is rightfully his. Stripped naked, Daenerys steps into a bathtub, her eyes haunted and her expression blank. She is the sacrificial lamb and she knows it, and her nakedness is symbolic of her status as an object.

The last time we see Daenerys in the first season, she’s naked again–except this time, she has just emerged from flames and hatched three dragon eggs. The fire that consumed her enemy and her clothes has left her skin smudged but unburnt. Her nakedness is no longer a symbol of her vulnerability–it’s a symbol of strength.

The Mother of Dragons, Daenerys the Unburnt

Daenerys doesn’t have to be naked for the viewer to understand the change in her character, but the nudity in both scenes highlights and reinforces the dramatic growth she’s had over ten episodes.

Another scene that includes purposeful nudity takes place in the third season, where Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth, captive of Stark family allies, bathe in the tub (though sitting on opposite sides). Jaime, having lost his swordfighting hand, is even more sarcastic than usual, insulting Brienne’s prowess as a fighter and implying that her former king died because she wasn’t a good enough knight. At this, the maid of Tarth leaps to her feet, completely naked in front of the Kingslayer, staring him down until he apologizes for impugning her honor.

This is a great moment for Brienne’s character–only moments before, she was embarrassed to share a bath with the Kingslayer, but when he insults her, she wastes no time in asserting herself. When she rises to her feet, naked as the day she was born, she isn’t subject to the same male gaze as the chorus of nameless prostitutes on Game of Thrones. She’s still a warrior, and being stripped of her armor doesn’t change that fact one bit.

And the scene only gets better from there. Jaime Lannister, used to being the strongest and most skilled person in the room (in both swordplay and wordplay), is stripped in every sense of the word. He’s vulnerable in a way he’s never been before, confessing the truth about his reasons for killing the Mad King, and he eventually faints into Brienne’s arms, whispering, “Jaime. My name is Jaime.”

Brienne hears Jaime’s tale of killing the Mad King

Much like Daenerys’s scenes at the beginning and end of season one, the nudity in this scene represents both strength and vulnerability. In this scene, Jaime Lannister reveals more of himself than he’s revealed to any other person, and this only works if they’re both literally stripped bare.

Now imagine how much MORE powerful these scenes would be if the frequent use of gratuitous boob shots hadn’t turned this aspect of the show into a running joke.

Despite strawman arguments that claim the contrary, it’s really not all that hard to discern the difference between gratuitous nudity and nudity that serves an artistic purpose. People who claim otherwise are not confused; they’re deliberately disingenuous.

Lady T is an aspiring writer and comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

The Occasional Purposeful Nudity on ‘Game of Thrones’

Written by Lady T.

“Won’t somebody please think of the children?!”

The Mother of Dragons, Daenerys the Unburnt

Brienne hears Jaime’s tale of killing the Mad King

Now imagine how much MORE powerful these scenes would be if the frequent use of gratuitous boob shots hadn’t turned this aspect of the show into a running joke.

Lady T is a writer with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

Gratuitous Female Nudity and Complex Female Characters in ‘Game of Thrones’

Yes, ‘Game of Thrones’ is a show that loves its nudity. HBO is known for gratuitous displays of naked ladies in many of its show, but ‘Game of Thrones’ might as well exist on a network called HBOOB.

Written by Lady T.

Ros from Game of Thrones. Full frontal nudity in 3… 2… 1…

[Yes, I have read the books.]

Game of Thrones, the HBO series based on George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire novels, premiered in April 2011. Since then, the show has received attention for its sprawling scope, large cast, morally complex characters, strong acting (particularly the performance of Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister), and the numerous shots of prostitutes and naked boobs in almost every episode.

Yes, Game of Thrones is a show that loves its nudity. HBO is known for gratuitous displays of naked ladies in many of its show, but Game of Thrones might as well exist on a network called HBOOB. The series premiere alone had more boob close-ups than a Girls With Low Self-Esteem video (yes, that was an intentional reference to Arrested Westeros!) Numerous feminist writers have commented on the gratuitous nudity of the show, with Melissa McEwan at Shakesville and Madeline Davies at Jezebel nicknaming the program “Game of Boners.” (I prefer Game of Tits, myself).

Doreah: not nude in this scene, but give her a minute

Now, Game of Thrones is hardly the first show or film to show a lot of gratuitous female nudity, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. What I find interesting about the criticism of Game of Thrones’ gratuitous female nudity is that it’s not limited to feminist outlets and blogs. Mainstream television critics and humor outlets are talking about the soft-porn quality of the nudity and sex scenes:

Myles McNutt, critic and academic blogger, coined the term “sexposition” to describe the nudity on Game of Thrones, a term adopted by Alan Sepinwall and used in other criticisms of the show.

Someecards came out with a Game of Thrones-related “romantic” card that reads, “I want to get you as gratuitously naked as a Game of Thrones character.”

The Onion wrote about the season premiere with an article entitled, “Game of Thrones’ Season 3 Opens with Every Character Getting Fingered While Discussing the Arrival of Winter.”

Saturday Night Live did a sketch last year about Game of Thrones and its two creative consultants: author George R.R. Martin, and a 13-year-old boy who adds naked women in the background of every scene.

Apparently, all this talk of sexposition displeases and even offends the producers:

“A frustrated Weiss responded to a question about the amount of sex and nudity on the show, and the commentary about it, by saying, ‘We put in the show what we think belongs in the show. There are going to be people who think there’s too much of something, or not enough. If you create a show with a committee of a million people, you’re not going to make a very good show. We do what’s right to us.'”

Well. I’m satisfied. *cough*

Still, even though I’m glad to read these criticisms, I can’t help but wonder–why this show? Why is Game of Thrones unable to escape the “sexposition” jokes when other shows with gratuitous nudity are praised for grim dark realism?

I have a couple of theories about that, but I think the main reason Game of Thrones‘ nudity has become a popular punchline has to do with the show’s wide array of complex female characters.

Daenerys Targaryen, between one nude scene and another

Game of Thrones is not like Lord of the Rings or other popular fantasy series that forget that women exist. Women are prominent in the society of Westeros, whether behind the scenes or fighting on the fields.

Game of Thrones has traditionally feminine characters like Catelyn and Sansa Stark, Cersei Lannister, and Margaery and Olenna Tyrell, queens and noblewomen who exist mostly in the domestic sphere but also show keen shrewdness about the way the world is stacked against them.

Game of Thrones also has female characters who break traditional gender roles, who would rather fight with a sword or a bow and arrow than get married and have children: Arya Stark, Osha, Yara Grejoy, Ygritte, Meera Reed, and Brienne of Tarth.

Game of Thrones has Daenerys Targaryen, a woman who combines traditionally feminine traits and a fierce warrior spirit by coining herself as the Mother of Dragons. (She’s also one of the few female characters who has had nude scenes that actually served a purpose.)

Game of Thrones even allows some of its female characters more complexity and development than they received in the book. Shae, a prostitute and Tyrion’s paramour, is a giggly non-entity of a character in the novels. On the show, she is a sharp observer of human behavior and compassionate to Sansa.

Game of Thrones has a scene where a female knight pledges fealty to a woman. How many times has that occurred in television history?

Considering the presence of so many complex women in Game of Thrones, it seems like critics might save their nudity-related complaints for other programs that populate their shows with mere ciphers (if they cast any women at all). So why are we still talking about nudity on THIS show?

I think our culture has become so accustomed to seeing naked women used as props in advertising, film, television, and in other forms of media, that we don’t always notice objectification anymore. Those of us who are actively feminist will notice unnecessary boobage in a show, but more casual consumers of media and popular culture might not pick up on the objectification in such displays of nudity, because the objectification is everywhere.

Game of Thrones, however, gives us scenes with characters like Cersei and Catelyn and Arya and Brienne and Daenerys, shows them as complex and complicated and morally gray as any male character on the show–and two minutes later, gives us a scene where a male character talks to a woman who exists as nothing more than a naked giggling prop.

The shift is jarring, as if the show is saying, “Women are complex, just like men–now here are some more boobs in soft glowy lighting, brought to you by The Male Gaze™.” It’s jarring enough that even a casual viewer is more likely to notice. You can’t be oblivious to the naked giggling props when there are so many fully-clothed, complex human beings around, reminding us that women are people.

Or maybe the most casual of viewers can look at a scene where a man exposits all his schemes and dreams to one prostitute finger-fucking another prostitute and think, “Okay, that’s a little too much, even for me.”

———-

Gratuitous Female Nudity and Complex Female Characters in ‘Game of Thrones’

Written by Lady T.

Ros from Game of Thrones. Full frontal nudity in 3… 2… 1…

[Yes, I have read the books.]

Doreah: not nude in this scene, but give her a minute

Myles McNutt, critic and academic blogger, coined the term “sexposition” to describe the nudity on Game of Thrones, a term adopted by Alan Sepinwall and used in other criticisms of the show.

Someecards came out with a Game of Thrones-related “romantic” card that reads, “I want to get you as gratuitously naked as a Game of Thrones character.”

The Onion wrote about the season premiere with an article entitled, “Game of Thrones’ Season 3 Opens with Every Character Getting Fingered While Discussing the Arrival of Winter.”

Saturday Night Live did a sketch last year about Game of Thrones and its two creative consultants: author George R.R. Martin, and a 13-year-old boy who adds naked women in the background of every scene.

Apparently, all this talk of sexposition displeases and even offends the producers:

“A frustrated Weiss responded to a question about the amount of sex and nudity on the show, and the commentary about it, by saying, ‘We put in the show what we think belongs in the show. There are going to be people who think there’s too much of something, or not enough. If you create a show with a committee of a million people, you’re not going to make a very good show. We do what’s right to us.'”

Well. I’m satisfied. *cough*

I have a couple of theories about that, but I think the main reason Game of Thrones‘ nudity has become a popular punchline has to do with the show’s wide array of complex female characters.

Daenerys Targaryen, between one nude scene and another

Game of Thrones has a scene where a female knight pledges fealty to a woman. How many times has that occurred in television history?

———-

On Entertainment Weekly’s "42 Unforgettable Nude Scenes"

This morning I found myself reading old NYT news-alert emails, surfing Facebook, and, finally, browsing a slideshow from Entertainment Weekly called “Bodies of Work: 42 Unforgettable Nude Scenes” which was published earlier this month. (It was a productive morning, see?)

We talk a lot at Bitch Flicks about female bodies in films (and especially in film marketing, as evidenced in our posters series), and how bodies are offered up for viewers’ consumption. There are a few things that strike me about the scenes that EW highlights. I haven’t seen every film mentioned, so there may be more complexities in some of the examples, but there are certainly identifiable trends.

I recommend looking through the slideshow before you continue reading, but you can always go back and look through it afterwards. There is very little nudity in the screen shots from the scenes, so I’d label the slideshow safe for work.

Uma Thurman in The Adventures of Baron Munchenhausen

1. Male bodies are comedic, female bodies are sexy.

There are, of course, a few exceptions, but this is overwhelmingly the case in these scenes. Photo after photo reveals male actors in comedic situations. Whether it’s the odd object hiding genitals (Ryan Gosling with Steve Carell’s head in Crazy, Stupid, Love; John Cleese with a picture frame in A Fish Called Wanda; Peter Sellers with a guitar in A Shot in the Dark) or the uncomfortable display of homophobia (Sacha Baron Cohen in Borat; Ed Helms in Cedar Rapids; Tyler Nilson in Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story), the naked male body is often played for laughs. At the same time, a majority of the female actors are shown as beautiful objects to look at, including women showering (Jessica Alba in Machete; Beverly D’Angelo in National Lampoon’s Vacation; Phoebe Cates in In Paradise) and women revealing themselves for a man (Kate Winslet in Titanic, or, as the article states “in almost anything”; Uma Thurman in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen; Halle Berry in Monster).

This tells us something we likely already know: the female body is most often presented for male viewers’ consumption, yet the male body is also being presented for male viewers–most often in a comedic way that reinforces heterosexuality. This emphasizes the notion that Hollywood employs the male gaze, and that films are being made for a (white, heterosexual) male audience. Which leads me to my next point…

2. “Unforgettable” bodies are white bodies.

There is a lot of tokenism going on in EW‘s piece. There is one Asian man (Ken Jeong in The Hangover II), one Black woman (Halle Berry), one Hispanic woman (Jessica Alba)–and every other person on the list is white. Let me say that again. Out of 42 scenes, there are 3 people of color. Three. Uno, dos, tres. Oh, there’s also Bart Simpson, who is yellow, but also a cartoon. (Update: I left Jaye Davidson of The Crying Game off the list, so there is also one Black man–who is, incidentally, not the person prominently shown in the image for that film/scene. Thanks to reader Soirore for pointing this out to me.)

This speaks to the cultural desirability (and also the perceived comedic potential*) of bodies belonging to people of color. Although people of color are often objectified and exoticized for consumption, none–or very few–of these incidents have been deemed “unforgettable” by the fine folks at EW. On one level, it’s good that we don’t see the vulgar objectification of people of color here, in a piece that is essentially based on objectification (or, EW might argue, celebrating memorable nude scenes), but it also peculiar and disturbing that the list is so damn white.

*I also want to note that for nude bodies to have comedic potential, those bodies have to have a certain amount of cultural privilege. We can laugh at the white male body because laughing at the white male body poses no threat to men, precisely because white men have the privilege and power to laugh and be laughed at.

David Kelly in Waking Ned Devine

3. Male bodies are active, female bodies are passive. Thus, men are active and women are passive.

This is very close to the first conclusion highlighted above, but it’s worth separating because it’s so prevalent in our culture and in this piece. Two comedies–The Full Monty and Calendar Girls–exhibit the divide perfectly. Both films play the nude body as comedic, but also subvert the comedy and allow for some moments in which bodies generally not considered desirable by mainstream standards are both sensual and wanted. However, Calendar Girls features a group of older women who are photographed for a (nude) calendar (read: the female body as a static, passive object), while The Full Monty shows a group of men performing a stage show (read: the male body in motion, in action).

It’s not just these two examples in the list, either. You have a man riding a motorcycle nude (David Kelly in Waking Ned Devine), a man running down the street nude (Will Ferrell in Old School), a man riding a horse nude (Russel Crowe in Hammers over the Anvil), a man fighting (Viggo Mortensen in Eastern Promises), etc.

4. EW has an interesting definition of the word “scene.” They actually mean “person.”

It seems that the piece is mistitled, and that the word “person,” or even “performance” more accurately describes their interest. Nearly every picture features a single person, even if that person isn’t the only nude one in the scene, with only a few exceptions: Sandra Bullock & Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal; Mike Meyers & Elizabeth Hurley in Austin Powers; “The Old Gals” in Calendar Girl; “The Men” in The Full Monty; and Julian Sands, Rupert Graves & Simon Callow in A Room with a View (probably the most subversive example in the piece, as the scene features the three men frolicking together, comfortably nude, in a lake).

Thus, “unforgettable” images of nude bodies are ones that are generally individual people, for the viewers’ consumption, and there is very little interest in portraying (or viewing) sensuality or healthy sexuality.

There are a lot of other things I could say about this collection of nude scenes. There’s certainly something interesting about violence and the male body, and it can’t go unmentioned that there is only one example (from The Crying Game) or maybe two (if you include the scene from A Room with a View) that is not explicitly heteronormative.

What else do you notice about the scenes and/or bodies offered up in EW’s slide show?

Also, we can play the same game as EW: What unforgettable scenes are missing from the original list?