Tag: Older Women

‘Grace and Frankie’ and the Binary of Bisexual Erasure and Representation

What makes it even more exciting to me, as a queer woman, is that not only are we being treated to these stories of our elders but that queerness is acknowledged and exists amongst older people in this television series. … My one bone to pick with ‘Grace and Frankie,’ for all of my true and deep love, is the decision to make Sol and Robert come out as being gay after 40 years of consummated, loving marriage to their wives. Surely, there was a possibility they were in fact bisexual?

Grace and Frankie

This guest post written by Leena van Deventer appears as part of our theme week on Bisexual Representation.

Advancing women’s representation in film and television is without a doubt a noble cause, as is improving the representation of many different marginalized groups. Our media should reflect the community the story is about, and our communities are full of people of different genders, races, ages, sizes, and sexual orientations. Failure to do so can contribute to the greater erasure, dehumanization, and intentional ignorance of a marginalized group’s existence, which can have devastating effects on marginalized folks in our society.

Cheers can be heard all through the internet every time a new movie is announced with a strong female character as the lead role. But those roles have changed over the last 20 or so years, and if we’re concerned with raising a generation of girls readying themselves for the coming feminist revolution, we need to consider whether we’re doing them a disservice by holding up this combat and conflict-driven Lone Wolf Badass as Finally The Female Character That Will Deliver Us From Evil and Seize the Means of Production While Looking Fabulous.

When I look back at the movies I held dear as a teen (no judgment okay), I’m reminded of The Craft, Thelma and Louise, Sister Act (1 & 2), A League of Their Own, Now and Then, or Steel Magnolias. A common thread through all of these stories was that of women’s friendship. These women knew they would live and die for each other; they knew they were better off together than alone. This has probably subconsciously affected my feminist practice, and influenced how much Molly Lambert’s article, “Can’t Be Tamed: A Manifesto,” resonated with me on a molecular level. It’s a tool of the patriarchy to convince women that women are their own worst enemies and can’t get along; it’s a radical act to actively push against that and love harder than you ever have before.

Imagine how much more Hermione Granger could have achieved if she had a Thelma to her Louise? A smart or brave or rough best friend who would do anything for her? What about Katniss Everdeen or Bella from Twilight? Who would they spend Galentine’s Day with? Who would die to protect her? While it’s inspiring to see badass women, like Rey, Furiosa, or possibly even a new Rocketeer (which is exciting as the sequel will star a Black woman), it’s easy to see the narrative being easily hijacked from women’s collective advancement to one of insular capitalist bootstrapping, a narrative which broadly prioritizes men (and stereotypically masculine qualities) over women. We shouldn’t be leaving a trail of bodies behind us, we should be amassing an army along the way.

The modern tale of female friendship I was looking for popped up in an unexpected place, to minimal fanfare, and has now officially taken up residence in a permanently rent-controlled corner of my heart. Netflix’s Grace and Frankie is a tale of female friendship and strength, with season two recently dropping and a third season on its way. It’s a tale of two septuagenarian women being bound together by adversity to find the good in each other and potentially resign to the fact that they may be the last great loves of their lives.

The first season introduced the main characters: Robert and Grace Hanson (played by Martin Sheen and Jane Fonda), and Sol and Frankie Bergstein (played by Sam Waterson and Lily Tomlin). These couples were brought together by Sol and Robert working together as partners in their law firm, and as such, both families spent a lot of time together over their 40 years of marriage, including their now adult children, who all have cousin-esque relationships with each other for the most part. They bought a shared beach house, which after Sol and Robert come clean that they have in fact been in love with each other for the last half of their marriages, becomes the primary residence of the now-displaced wives, Grace and Frankie.

Season one had many saccharine moments that I have no doubt turned a lot of people off continuing to watch, but Season two doesn’t make that same mistake. It’s sharper, wittier, and we get to see more of what makes these women tick. They know each other’s routines and quirks now, after living together for so long, and they’ve grown more fond of each other. What was once a one-dimensional joke about a control freak, push-your-feelings-down, Type A woman living with a pot-smoking, tie-dye wearing, hippie (Ho ho! The odd couple! What hijinks will ensue?) has now become less about how different the two women are and more about how they can parlay their respective strengths and weaknesses into finding a way to be there for each other no matter what.

Grace and Frankie understand the importance of banding together, and we see this in the episode where Grace catches up with some snooty country club friends after not being in contact since the break-up. The women scoff at what it must be like to live with a strange eccentric like Frankie, and Grace reminds them that she’s the only person who understands what this situation feels like, and the only person who reached out to help her, before telling them they’re assholes and leaving to go hang out with Frankie instead. The second season is underscored by a commitment between these two women; they will be there for each other to the end.

Grace and Frankie

It’s thrilling for me to experience the stories of these women. As a 31-year-old woman, I cannot possibly comprehend what it would be like to lose a friend I’d loved deeply for 40 years. I was yelping and hooting and hollering at the closing scene, as Grace and Frankie walk in slow motion out of the house, onward to their new sex-toy-making empire that markets vibrators to older women (dishwasher-safe with large font instructions and comfortable grips to compensate for arthritis). We don’t hear these stories about older people enough.

What makes it even more exciting to me, as a queer woman, is that not only are we being treated to these stories of our elders but that queerness is acknowledged and exists amongst older people in this television series. Homophobia is so often linked with being old-fashioned; more prolific in previous generations. Queer stories of our elders are crucially important to our history, a sentiment further impressed upon me at the recent screening of Winter and Westbeth, a stunning and uplifting documentary about queer older people and the rich, full lives they led as artists in public housing in New York’s West Village. We need more older characters on-screen, especially LGBTQ people and people of color.

While we may be coming in leaps and bounds in terms of LGBTQ representation, I fear we still have a long way to go for equal acceptance for the “B” (and definitely the “T”) portions of that acronym. My one bone to pick with Grace and Frankie, for all of my true and deep love, is the decision to make Sol and Robert come out as being gay after 40 years of consummated, loving marriage to their wives. Surely, there was a possibility they were in fact bisexual? Was it because gay is easier for audiences to understand than “those confusing bisexuals”? Bisexual erasure frequently occurs in media and is common even within our own activist circles. People (even prominent LGBTQ activists) make biphobic comments about how bisexual teens are just confused; or bi people are promiscuous, greedy, and can’t be monogamous; or the very tired quip, “Bisexuality is just a truck stop on the road to gay,” as if bisexuality doesn’t exist and people must choose. So I can understand how difficult it can be for us who are bisexual to have some issues with representation when we struggle with representation in our very own dedicated spaces.

Grace and Frankie

With a lack of bisexual characters in film and television and damaging tropes about bi people in media, it would have been great to see two bi men in Grace and Frankie, especially two older men. Bi men characters and queer characters who are older are both rarely depicted in film and television.

Because I do love the show so much, perhaps I would like to imagine the decision to make Sol and Robert gay as opposed to bisexual is because of the history of the (undeserving, cruel) association between bisexual people and infidelity, given that the men in this show engaged in a 20-year affair with each other. Perhaps co-creators Marta Kauffman (who has absolutely managed to inject more heart into this show than previous works such as Friends) and Howard J. Morris wanted to avoid contributing to that damaging stereotype? But that’s probably being too kind.

We have a long way to go with representation of all kinds: race, gender, age, size, disability, sexuality. We can get better at advancing this cause by being critical of the things we love. We can write as many strong female characters as we like in the hopes it will advance feminism, but a lone wolf isn’t going to get much done. We also need more female characters who aren’t just young, cis, straight, white women. We need to inspire girls by showing them inclusive representation and the power of women’s friendship, and we need to show them that those women can be of any age, and that strength isn’t always about picking up a bow or aiming the crosshairs at the bad guys. Sometimes it’s about holding your best friend’s hand while you do something scary.

Leena van Deventer is a game developer, writer, and educator from Melbourne, Australia. She has taught interactive storytelling at RMIT and Swinburne Universities and is co-author of Game Changers: From Minecraft to Misogyny, the Fight for the Future of Videogames with Dan Golding for Affirm Press. You can find her on Twitter @LeenaVanD.

Sisterhood with a Capital “S”: ‘The Triplets of Belleville’

Sisterhood is powerful, magical, and resilient: that’s the sororal message in the celebrated 2003 animated film… Character distinction between the sisters as individuals is not a major focus for writer/director Sylvain Chomet, although each Triplet has different functions/feelings at specific times. The bond of the sisters as a more monolithic force is depicted instead: Chomet presents the unity of sisterhood. … The agency of older women, including the eponymous trio, is vital to ‘The Triplets of Belleville.’

The Triplets of Belleville

This guest post written by Laura Shamas appears as part of our theme week on Sisterhood. | Spoilers ahead.

Sisterhood is powerful, magical, and resilient: that’s the sororal message in the celebrated 2003 animated film The Triplets of Belleville (Les Triplettes de Belleville), written and directed by Sylvain Chomet. The film was nominated for two Academy Awards in 2004 in the categories of Best Animated Film and Best Music/Best Original Song (for “Belleville Rendez-vous”), and won many other awards.

Initially presented in nostalgic sepia and white tones, the fictional city of “Belleville” is a combination of Paris and New York. When the film begins, the youthful Triplets are a singing jazz sensation, part of a smashing show at the “Swinging Belleville Rendez-vous,” featuring Josephine Baker, Django Reinhardt, and Fred Astaire, whose own shoes devour him.

Chomet’s film is nearly dialogue-free, and the repeated chorus of the sisters’ hit song underscores the importance of engine motion to the women, and to the film: “Swinging Belleville rendez-vous/Marathon dancing doop dee doop/Vaudou Cancan balais taboo/Au Belleville swinging rendez-vous.” In a 2004 interview, Chomet said the lyrics are onomatopoeic, without meaning, and drawn from English and French. So the music “swings,” and evokes a train and train whistle; there’s a suggestion of movement in it musically and lyrically.

The Triplets of Belleville

The story then shifts to the older woman Madame Souza and her melancholy toddler grandson Champion, who watch the famous Triplets sing on television; the “present” is depicted by a shift to color in the animation. Widowed Souza, who raises orphaned Champion, nurtures the boy’s love of cycling and devotes herself to training him, most notably by blowing a loud whistle as she trails along behind him. She also gives him a puppy named Bruno. When we first see their little home, it’s in the middle of farmland, a pastoral setting. But after Champion and Bruno mature, trains run right next to their home, and Bruno barks at them all day long. “Progress” has arrived.

As “mother,” trainer, and de facto mechanic, Souza balances the wheels of Champion’s bicycle each evening, after she gives him a post-workout rubdown with a vacuum cleaner. She spins a tire wheel at the dinner table — an image that evokes a spinning “wheel of fortune” or perhaps the classical image of the Fates, who were depicted with a spinning loom as they decided an individual’s future by cutting the Mother thread of Life.

At a remote mountaintop, Champion is kidnapped from his Tour de France race by the mafia, and forced onto a huge ship along with two other cyclists in the race. Souza, Bruno, and a driver find Champion’s abandoned bike on the peak — the only clue to his disappearance. The grandmother and dog paddle across the ocean in a small rented boat, and track the ship to Belleville. Bruno sniffs the way, detecting Champion’s scent. Eventually, Souza and Bruno find themselves down and out at night in Belleville, sitting around a lonely fire in a deserted part of town, unsure of Champion’s location. A forlorn Souza spins her wheel rhythmically in a back alley, as a full moon rises.

The Triplets of Belleville

The Triplets of Belleville suddenly appear and perform their hit song to the percussion of Madame Souza’s wheel. Much older, they still sound great. The trio kindly takes in Madame Souza and Bruno.

The three eccentric women live together in one-bedroom apartment near a train track, decorated with posters from their former glory days. At home, the trio let down their long silver hair, brushing it out, in one case. When the Triplets start to make supper, hungry Souza and Bruno anticipate a traditional meal. Instead, one of the Triplets goes into a nearby marsh and collects frogs to boil, via a stick grenade thrown into a pond that propels frogs into the air. She catches them with a net. The five then feast on frogs, prepared in a large pot.

Afterwards, Souza offers to help clean up the kitchen, but discovers that the fridge is completely empty; a Triplet indicates that the appliance mustn’t be touched. Likewise, the vacuum cleaner is puzzlingly off-limits to Souza, too; a newspaper must not be read or tossed, either. The sisters soon retire to their one bed, which they share; they watch an old bicycle race on television and laugh. The grandmother and Bruno sleep in the other room, with Souza on the couch.

The three sisters are presented in two different eras in the film: young, when they are big stars at the Rendez-vous club, and then, at this later point, as elders. In fairy tale terms, they appear in the second part of the film as “crone” characters, related to witches. They show up at night; they eat boiled frogs from a cauldron-like pot. Their work is “nocturnal,” as they still have music gigs, and there are three of them, like William Shakespeare’s Weird Sisters in Macbeth. But even though the Triplets are no longer in their heyday, they have stayed together as a collective, and seem content. They are still experimental musicians with regular gigs in Belleville.

Character distinction between the sisters as individuals is not a major focus for Chomet, although each Triplet has different functions/feelings at specific times. The bond of the sisters as a more monolithic force is depicted instead: Chomet presents the unity of sisterhood.

The Triplets of Belleville

The Triplets invite Souza to join them onstage at a restaurant, playing her spinning bike wheel so that it sounds like a xylophone; they instantly become a quartet. As experimental music-makers, the three sisters subvert traditional tools of domesticity; they play the unused refrigerator, the vacuum cleaner, and the newspaper as musical instruments in an avant-garde performance. This is also part of the sisters’ special powers; they transform everyday objects by finding new functions for them, and in the process, they create something brilliant together, not as individuals.

Members of the mafia come to this venue to dine; Bruno and Souza track the criminals later, and surmise that Champion and two other cyclists are being used as part of a bizarre underground betting scheme. Three chained, exhausted bikers pedal to power a movie projector that displays an open road on film. Bets are placed on their never-ending race by a shouting unruly mob, maintained by the mafia. The four women, with Bruno, formulate a plan to free Champion. The Triplets and Souza maneuver their way into the rowdy betting arena, dressed as one of the syndicate guys (who, throughout, have been visually distinctive as black square “suits”).

One exhausted cyclist is shot. In a scuffle, Madame Souza and the sisters manage to free the pedaling platform, throw another stick grenade, and escape together to the road. One sister steps onto the vacated empty bicycle and they bravely pedal the platform into Belleville’s streets. Pursued by the mafia, Souza and the sisters block incoming bullets with a frying pan — again, subverting a tool of domesticity into something else. In the chase scene, a train intercedes to slow the bad guys down, and finally, on a steep hill, Souza trips one remaining foe with her big clog. The Triplets, Souza, Bruno, Champion, and the other cyclist all pedal away up a hill into the nighttime, with the film of an open road still projecting on a screen in front of them.

The film concludes with Champion, now an old man, watching this very film on television. He turns and answers a question posed by Souza at the very beginning: “Is that it, then? Is it over? What do you think?” Champion: “I think that’s probably it. It’s over, Grandma.”

The Triplets of Belleville

The agency of older women, including the eponymous trio, is vital to Chomet’s The Triplets of Belleville. Familial sisterhood becomes “Sisterhood” with a capital S in this film. Chomet’s Sisterhood is inclusive, because it’s not just the Triplets; by the end, Souza’s in it, too. One foreshadowing of their symbolic Sisterhood is Souza’s early use of a vacuum cleaner as a post-workout rubdown tool; like the Triplets, Souza, subverts a domestic tool for another purpose.

The idea of engine/wheel motion, prevalent throughout the film in “swinging” music, trains, bicycles, and separate wheels, is also part of this powerful Sisterhood. It represents the agency Sisters have to go places and do things; they solve mysteries and bring down the mafia, all while making their music. Spinning wheels also represent a connection to a wheel of Fortune and Fate/the Fates: these Sisters know how to work with it. The Triplets fearlessly “swing,” have a train whistle motif in their anthem, and live by a train track. Souza, too, lives by a train, manages a cyclist, and balances a spinning wheel each night, which she eventually turns into a musical instrument.

When they hit hard times, the Sisters are resilient and resourceful. They always find a way. They use domestic tools for music (the Triplets), or post-workout massages (Souza), or as shields (as in the final mafia chase). Magical sisters stick together and get things done; one elderly sister is magical enough to be able to pedal along with Champion and the other outstanding cyclist in the final sequence.

Sisterhood is long-lasting: Chomet opens with the Triplets as young stars, and ends with them as heroines in their dotage, with a new Sister in Souza. The ending is happy, as we see the long-term results of their adventure: Champion has lived into old age, and is grateful to them. He honors their story by watching it with us.

Laura Shamas is a writer, myth lover, and a film consultant. For more of her writing on the topic of female trios: We Three: The Mythology of Shakespeare’s Weird Sisters. Her website is LauraShamas.com.

‘The Golden Girls’: The Legacy of a Lifetime of Wisdom and Laughter

In 1985, television audiences were reminded that women of a certain age are just as vibrant, sexual, and as full of life as women half their age. They may also share a few life lessons along the way. The TV series ‘The Golden Girls’ — which aired for seven seasons — reminded audiences of all ages that life does not end at fifty for women.

Golden Girls

This guest post written by Adina Bernstein appears as part of our theme week on Ladies of the 1980s.

Picture it: Brooklyn, 1991. My sister and I, aged 10 and 7 are spending a Saturday night at our widowed grandmother’s apartment. Her favorite show is The Golden Girls.

My grandmother was not a young woman at that point. The youngest daughter of Russian Jewish immigrants, my grandmother had been through quite a lot, starting with the death of her parents when she was a teenager. Marrying my late grandfather (who passed away the year before) in the late 1940s, she raised two sons (my father and uncle). My grandmother watched her sons grow up, get married, enter the working world, and become successful adults. She and my grandfather had a hand in raising her grandchildren (my sister and I). Through that lifetime of experience, my grandmother was and still is a beacon to our entire family.

Once upon a time, older women were revered for the experience, knowledge, and wisdom that take a lifetime to accumulate. Those days, unfortunately, belong in the distant past. Once she reaches a certain age, a woman is more likely to be discarded for a “newer model,” thought to be senile, or viewed only through the lens of her role as a wife, mother, and grandmother. Who she is as a woman, what she has accomplished in life, and the lessons she can teach to those younger than her is often deemed meaningless in society.

In 1985, television audiences were reminded that women of a certain age are just as vibrant, sexual, and as full of life as women half their age. They may also share a few life lessons along the way. The TV series The Golden Girls — which aired for seven seasons — reminded audiences of all ages that life does not end at fifty for women.

Blanche Devereaux (Rue McLanahan) was the Southern belle rarely without a date. Rose Nylund (Betty White) was the innocent Midwesterner who never quite got the joke. Dorothy Zbornak (Bea Arthur) was originally from New York who always quipped the smartass one-liners. Sophia Petrillo (Estelle Getty) was Dorothy’s mother originally from Sicily who escaped the nursing home and whose age allowed her to be as far from politically correct as she wanted to be.

With television (and the media in general), then and now, most older women are not seen as vivacious, independent, capable human beings who can still contribute to the world. They are expected to quietly retire (if they did work outside of the home), take care of their spouse, children, and grandchildren. Their work is done. It’s time to sit in the rocking chair, knit a blanket or sweater, and watch as the next generation steps up to the plate.

They say that sixty is the new forty, that means that forty is the new twenty. People also say that age is just a number. I prefer the latter. Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia were just as dynamic, sexual, and spirited as women on-screen who are half their age. In fact, their age made them even more appealing.

The Golden Girls

The Golden Girls touched on many subjects over the course of seven years: friendship, dating, menopause, being a parent to grown children who may make decisions not approved of, LGBTQ rights, the relationships between family, etc.

Looking back I can see the crack that The Golden Girls put in the glass ceiling. It was a small crack, but an important one. The lesson was clear: just because a woman is over fifty does not mean she is unimportant. What she brings to the table is priceless; there is no dollar sign on life experiences or wisdom. There is nothing more attractive than a person who combines life experiences, intelligence, and confidence to be who they are. Perhaps that is what made The Golden Girls appealing to all audiences and perhaps why there was a string of boyfriends and potential boyfriends that passed through the house.

When I watch The Golden Girls in reruns, I notice several things. I see my childhood and my late grandmothers, who were of the same generation as the characters. I remember the wisdom and experience my grandmothers had, that only someone who lives for fifty plus years can possess. I see four women who not only get along, but are able to maintain a very strong friendship despite their differences. I see four independent and self-reliant women with full social lives and romantic lives. I see four women who are funny, real, and full of life. I see the reminder that when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade.

In Jane Austen’s classic novel, Sense and Sensibility, Marianne Dashwood, says, “A woman of seven and twenty… can never hope to feel or inspire affection again.” Granted, this statement is coming from a girl of sixteen, but the sentiment reflects an overall cultural value about women and aging. Women, especially women of a certain age, are supposed to eventually step aside. The Golden Girls did not step aside, nor did they quietly accept the limitations that women their age are supposed to accept. Their declaration was loud and clear: older women can do anything that a woman of thirty can do. In fact, they may be able to do more, not only because of a lifetime of experiences, but because they are free of the responsibilities that come along with a career (although 3 of the women still had careers) and raising a family.

After my grandfather died, my sister and I spend many Saturday evenings with my grandmother.  Looking back on those memories, I wouldn’t change them for the world. I also would not change the lessons about age and taking life by the balls that The Golden Girls taught their millions of fans.

See also at Bitch Flicks: How ‘The Golden Girls’ Shaped My Feminism

Adina Bernstein is a Brooklyn born freelance writer and blogger at Writergurlny. You can find her on Twitter @Writergurlny and Instagram.

Superheroines Week: The Roundup

Check out all of the posts from our Superheroines Theme Week here.

BF Superheroines Week Roundup

How the X-Men Films Failed Iconic Black Female Superhero Storm by Sara Century

To me, this is where the X-Men films utterly fail Storm as a character. While her comic form is definitely a sympathetic and understanding person, more importantly, she is a warrior trained in hand-to-hand combat, an orphan, a divorcee, a Black woman in a leadership role on a team of mostly white men, a wife, a mentor, and an activist.

‘Supergirl’ and Room for the Non-Brooding Superhero by Allyson Johnson

There is an indisputable charm to Kara’s strong will that can go toe to toe with the might of her fist. Here is a young woman that believes so strongly in her fellow being that she tries talking to many of the baddies of the week rather than immediately resorting to fighting. Her kindhearted and giving spirit is ultimately what sets her apart from the other heroes that have populated television and movies for the last few years…

Catwoman, Elektra, and the Death of the Cinema Superheroine by Heather Davidson

Now, don’t get me wrong – neither Catwoman nor Elektra are by any means good movies. The first is silly, the second dull, and both are confusing and ugly, with little interest in their source material and an odd propensity to give characters magical powers. They deserved to fail – but they didn’t deserve to take an entire gender down with them.

Top 10 Superheroines Who Deserve Their Own Movies by Amanda Rodriguez

So few superheroines are given their own movies. I’m officially declaring that it’s high time we had more superhero movies starring women. The first in a series of posts, I’m starting with a list of my top 10 picks for super babes who deserve their own flicks.

Why Scarlet Witch May Be the Future of Women in the Marvel Cinematic Universe by Maddie Webb

Having a superhero grapple with the right use of their power is hardly a new theme and it’s central to the broader narrative of Captain America: Civil War. But allowing a female superhero to tackle the same dilemma on a deeply personal level feels quietly subversive. …Women superheroes can be inhumanly powerful without being reduced to a boringly infallible female badass caricature.

Elektra in Daredevil: Violence, White Masculinity, and Asian Stereotypes by Kelly Kanayama

And then there’s Elektra Natchios, half-Asian, half-white, sexual, violent, dangerous, and in some ways, the most problematic character on the show. … Yet there is something strangely compelling about Elektra, not as an extension of the show’s tired prejudices against Asian people, but as a woman who despite her questionable origins transcends the limiting Strong Female Character trope. …Her presence in and of itself disrupts the masculine hegemony of violence in the show.

Daisy Johnson, Superheroine of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. — And Why She Matters by Lee Jutton

What makes Daisy special among superheroes is that she embodies all of these tropes as the centerpiece of a network television series — and is also a woman. Not only that, she is a mixed-race woman — and not a token one, but one surrounded by other women, of various ages, races and backgrounds.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Humanization of the Superheroine by Kaitlyn Soligan

Often carrying the burden of representation in a genre overrun with male characters, superheroines were strong or weak, clear-headed or in constant need of saving, but rarely complex or allowed complicated internal lives, and even more rarely truly relatable. Buffy changed all that.

Supergirl’s Feminism and Why the Series Works by Dennis R. Upkins

Even with her powers, Kara is the underdog who has to evolve to overcome insurmountable odds, thus making her relatable to viewers. With the series being entitled Supergirl, it shouldn’t be a surprise that feminism is a prevalent theme. What is a pleasant surprise is how well the series tackles it.

Barbarella and the “Savagery” of Futuristic Sexual Politics by Olga Tchepikova

One version of Barbarella draws her as a progressive, sex-positive, and role model-worthy character that saves the universe. … Barbarella the character might be the worst example of a superheroine by many of our contemporary expectations for a female lead not least because of the ambiguous dynamics of her (sexual) agency. … ‘Barbarella’ as a film remains a superheroine movie with a mission: save the future of sexual politics.

How Hawkgirl Saved Me by Maggie Slutzker

This is about my favorite chess-playing, mace-wielding, war-crying, winged superheroine role model: Shayera Hol. … Hawkgirl taught me to be observant. She taught me that it’s possible to come through trying times. She taught me that being able to think was just as important as being able to fight, and that good and evil aren’t always absolutes.

Why Black Widow Is the “Realest” Superheroine of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (Yes, Even After All Those Tropes) by Kayleigh Watson 

It is this factor alone why Black Widow is so important. She is the longest standing female protagonist within the Marvel film franchise, having starred in Iron Man 2, The Avengers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron and most recently, Captain America: Civil War. She was the only female Avenger in both Avengers films (until Scarlet Witch switched sides at the end of Age of Ultron), and as such was subject to being the onscreen vessel of female representation in a superhero super-team otherwise occupied by straight white men.

How Does Vixen Collide with Race, Gender, a Black Sense of Home, and the Video Vixen? by Tara Betts

…There is more to be said about how essentializing African identities around myth, folklore, the continent, and animals can impose limits on how Black people, particularly Black women, can be written, and how those Black characters are experienced in a more accessible, mainstream outlet. In other words, even Black superhero characters, carry the burden of limitations if the racial stereotypes outweigh the plot and character development. In this case, Vixen has room for more episodes, a potential live-action series, and delving deeper into a host of issues on identity, power, and defining home.

Brown Girls Can Be Heroes Too: Why We Need a Ms. Marvel Movie by Bhavna Vasnani

I’d internalized the rather damaging notion that only white girls deserve to have their stories told. Only white girls can slay the patriarchy without breaking a nail. Only white girls get to be the heroes, and get to be heroes of their own stories. And the rest of us? We don’t matter. … It’s important for young South Asian girls to see that just because they’re South Asian doesn’t mean that they have to be relegated to the sidelines, to being the sidekick, to being the brainy Indian doctor, and so on. They can be superheroes too.

Stop the Fridging: The Invisible Feminism of Arrow by Becky Kukla

So while Arrow seems pretty reluctant to move away from the traditional stance on women existing to be love interests and to be rescued, the individual female characters themselves sometimes show some hints of progressiveness… if only they’d be allowed to live long enough!

Show Me a (Woman) Villain by Mary Iannone

We all recognize the gross disparity of women superheroes, in the Marvel canon and beyond. But I would argue that the cinematic landscape is even less primed to allow women supervillains. … Women are generally presented as easily manipulated and too emotional to be true villains. It is yet another characterization of the “soft” woman, dictated by her emotions, propelled by a propensity to nurture rather than destroy. But we need stories of women who hunger for power, who are willingly selfish, and who stick to their principles, no matter the cost. … No more scenes of men talking women into saving the world. Let them try their best to destroy it.

Batgirl / Oracle: A Superheroine with a Disability and Representation by Adam Sherman

There aren’t a lot of superheroes with disabilities; many of the ones who do gain powers from their disabilities. … Barbara Gordon as Oracle is a more accurate and positive representation of people with disabilities. She’s way more real because despite the fact that she sometimes needs the help of more able-bodied people, like a real person living with paralysis from the waist down, she still lives a positive and active life.

Where Are All the Superheroines Who Are Getting Too Old For This Shit? Ageism and Superhero Movies by Celey Schumer

Even in the rare superhero films with more gender-balanced casts, the age gap between male and female performers can be seen time and time again. Men are allowed to age, to become grizzled, world-weary with experience, or stew for years on a plot of vengeance. … Their women counterparts, however, must remain lithe, “hot,” and never over the age of 40.

Go ahead, try and find a superheroine or female supervillain over 40. I’ll wait. Great. Now that we’re all done pointing at Halle Berry as Storm — who was 46 at the release of X-Men: Days of Future Past — and Famke Janssen as Jean Grey/Phoenix — who was 41 at the release of X-Men: The Last Stand — let’s look at the bigger picture.

Scarlet Witch and Kitty Pryde: Erased Jewish Superheroines by Sophie Hall

While Black Widow’s portrayal remains true to her comic book origin, Scarlet Witch’s does not, as her comic book counterpart is Romani and Jewish. … Not only is erasing Judaism a disservice to both Scarlet Witch and Captain America, it’s also disrespectful to the Jewish writers who invested so much in making a statement about Jewish resistance in their artistic expression. …

In the comics, Kitty Pryde is a feisty, spirited, and proudly Jewish member of the X-Men. …The filmmakers missed out on a more poignant story. Kitty Pryde would have faced what her ancestors faced generations ago; where they were targeted for their religion, Kitty was now being targeted for her mutation.

Superheroines of Color and Empowerment in Fantasy on TV by Constance Gibbs

It’s a rare sight to see women of color as superheroes, but rarest, probably, on television. … Superheroines are important. The desire for women to be seen as heroes, as strong, as capable, as desired, as everything transcends race. But when women of color are constantly told they have to wait or aren’t given the same chances, it does the same thing as when it’s men vs. women. …

Why can’t we have a Black or Asian or Latina or Arab or Native heroine acting as a universal hero for all girls of all races? Why must white continue to be the universal standard and everyone else is relegated to a niche audience? People of color want the empowerment fantasy too.

Where Are All the Superheroines Who Are Getting Too Old For This Shit?

Even in the rare superhero films with more gender-balanced casts, the age gap between male and female performers can be seen time and time again. Men are allowed to age, to become grizzled, world-weary with experience, or stew for years on a plot of vengeance. … Their women counterparts, however, must remain lithe, “hot,” and never over the age of 40.

Storm and Jean Grey Phoenix_Xmen

This guest post by Celey Schumer appears as part of our theme week on Superheroines.

Sexism in Hollywood is not a new phenomenon. At this point, girl power, famous women starting their own production companies, and the call for more (and more three-dimensional) female characters, are all reaching fever pitch. Whether this cultural spotlight will result in an improved landscape for women in film and TV remains to be seen, but the optimist in me believes the needle is pointing generally upward.

Ageism is a natural part of this sexism conversation, yet it often gets added as one sentence of a larger “viral video.” The average age of leading women is 33 years old whereas the average age of leading men is 42 years old. In Dr. Martha Lauzen’s Celluloid Ceiling report looking at the top 100 grossing films of 2015, “the majority of female characters were in their 20s and 30s,” while “the majority of male characters were in their 30s and 40s.” Men 40 and over were “54% of all male characters” while women 40 and over were “34% of all female characters.” Looking at dialogue in film by gender and age, dialogue “decreases substantially” for women as they get older. The problem with this is that when we limit the ages (not to mention race, sexual orientation, and size) of characters that women can play, we severely limit our talent pool of badass female actors, and the longevity of their careers. It also erases the visibility of older women, underscoring the notion that only younger women matter.

Captain America Civil War posterXMen Days of Future Past poster 2

Superhero films, the beast that keeps on beasting, are among the worst perpetrators of this double-standard. Here is one category for which the argument, “Well, what about Meryl Streep?” does not apply. Even in the rare superhero films with more gender-balanced casts, the age gap between male and female performers can be seen time and time again. Men are allowed to age, to become grizzled, world-weary with experience, or stew for years on a plot of vengeance. Lookin’ at you Ian McKellen, Robert Downey Jr., and Alfred Molina. Their women counterparts, however, must remain lithe, “hot,” and never over the age of 40. Seriously. Go ahead, try and find a superheroine or female supervillain over 40. I’ll wait. Great. Now that we’re all done pointing at Halle Berry as Storm — who was 46 at the release of X-Men: Days of Future Past — and Famke Janssen as Jean Grey/Phoenix — who was 41 at the release of X-Men: The Last Stand — let’s look at the bigger picture.

Storm_ Xmen Days of Future Past 2

The most recent superhero behemoth, Captain America: Civil War features a leading cast of 11 men and 3 women. Don Cheadle/War Machine and Robert Downey Jr./Iron Man are the oldest male heroes at 51, with the youngest being 33-year-old Sebastian Stan/Winter Soldier and 19-year-old Tom Holland/Spider-Man. Scarlett Johansson/Black Widow is our oldest female hero, just edging out the TEENAGER Holland, at a ripe old 31 years of life. Elizabeth Olsen/Scarlet Witch is 27, and Emily VanCamp/Sharon Carter (not a superhero, but an important character who will seemingly get to kick ass later on) clocks in at 30. While Batman v. Superman features more women over 40 (Amy Adams/Lois Lane, Diane Lane/Martha Kent, and Holly Hunter/Senator June Finch), the only woman superhero is Gal Gadot/Wonder Woman, who is 30 years old.

We could run down the list of all major superhero releases of the past 15 years, but the script stays shockingly stable. Men play villains and heroes. Do-gooders and power-hungry scientists. Spry teens and grizzled vets. The women play heroes (sometimes), girlfriends (mostly), mothers (occasionally), and villains (rarely), usually between the ages of 23 and 37, and always before their mid-life crises. This is true for Guardians of the Galaxy where Glenn Close/Nova Prime’s 4 minutes of screen-time is almost single-handedly holding down the fort for women over 60, and isn’t even a “hero” per se; Sally Field/Aunt May in The Amazing Spider-Man films is the only other woman over 60. It is true for Ant-Man, where Evangeline Lilly — noted 36-year-old land-mermaid and future superhero Wasp — plays the ONLY female character that is not a 5-year-old child or nagging ex-wife. It is true in The Avengers, Avengers: Age of Ultron, every Thor film, Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man, Man of Steel, and The Amazing Spider-Man reboots. Even the X-Men film series, the ensembliest of all ensembles, features male characters with a huge age range — from venerable older men Patrick Stewart/Professor X and McKellen/Magneto in their 70s, to bright-eyed teen Tye Sheridan/Cyclops — and female characters with a range from… uh… Halle Berry/Storm, Famke Janssen/Jean Grey, Rebecca Romijn/Mystique (under 40 for all films she was in) to 20-year-old Sophie Turner/Jean Grey. Wow, such range, very diverse. Ten points to Slytherin!

Jean Grey Phoenix_Xmen Last Stand 4

Now, I’m not saying these young, gorgeous, badass women should not get to play superheroines and supervillains, and that we need to recast every role with older women for the sake of age-diversity. Like much of Hollywood, and perhaps more than most, the superhero genre is built on pleasing aesthetics, tight costumes, and muscles, muscles, muscles. I get it. It’s why you bought the ticket. And I swooned as much as anyone during the Civil War helicopter scene.

The lack of diversity (gender, racial, LGBTQ, and disability) in Hollywood sci-fi and fantasy blockbusters is “staggering.” But why oh WHY can films manage to fit in a wider range of roles on only the male side of the script?! And shit, it’s not as if the male side of superhero movies are beacons of tactfully executed diversity, but they’re certainly “better” than the ladies, with more ages, body types, and races/ethnicities represented in men’s roles. Could it be because there are just MORE roles for men? That certainly helps. Or, is it because we can make our peace with a graying gentleman kicking ass, yet cannot fathom a “cool,” dangerously competent woman who is not also inconceivably fit, young, and gorgeous? If the absurdly tight leather costume fits…

There are fewer film roles for women, even fewer for women over 40, and EVEN FEWER for women over 40 in what is arguably the entertainment industry’s most profitable genre. With that in mind, is it any wonder so many actresses are willing to inject a little extra collagen or shave a few years off their high-school graduation date? We can do better. It’s about damn time we did.

Celey Schumer is an actress, comedian, and writer. She is embarrassingly good at Harry Potter and Friends trivia. Her degrees in physics (Middlebury College) and structural engineering (University of Washington) look very impressive while they collect dust. She was definitely not eating chocolate as she wrote this. You can follow her on Twitter @CeleySchumer.

‘Grace and Frankie’: Sexuality for Seniors and Life After Marriage

Tomlin and Fonda’s onscreen chemistry is absolutely spot on, giving life to moments that may otherwise have fallen flat. One of the most refreshing things about Grace and Frankie is its attitude to female sexuality in older women. Life (moreover, sex) doesn’t have to stop because you’re getting older. The series illustrates this with frankness and honesty, and we don’t shy away from seeing the woman in that light.

 

Grace and Frankie 2

This is a guest post by Becky Kukla.

Something really special is happening in Netflix’s new baby Grace and Frankie. The series aired in its entirety a few weeks ago with relatively little promotion, considering the impressive cast involved. Grace and Frankie marks the return of Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin to comedy television. Not that either of them ever really left the comedy world, though the last time we saw them together was in the ’80s film 9 to 5, which is by all accounts wonderfully funny and female centric. Tomlin and Fonda both starred in 9 to 5 and have been reportedly BFF’s ever since. In a way, following their 2015 Golden Globes presentation, they are almost a pre-cursor to the female comedy duos of today. Think Tina and Amy, Ilana and Abbi, and Wiig and Rudolph. If anyone set the standard for the hybrid hilarious BFFs/comedy duo, it’s Tomlin and Fonda. So, does Grace and Frankie live up to the hype?

Tomlin and Fonda play Frankie and Grace respectively, two women who are shocked to discover that their business partner husbands have been having a secret affair for the past 20 years. They have decided to divorce their wives and marry each other, after the law changes and “we can do that now.” Sol (Sam Waterston) and Robert (Martin Sheen) begin to make a life with each other, whilst Grace and Frankie are left to pick up the pieces. The first episode, aptly titled “The End,” begins with the moment that Robert and Sol break the news to their wives – over dinner at an expensive restaurant (oh the middle-class!). Grace and Frankie are only friends because of their husband’s partnership-turned-relationship, and the only thing they both have in common is that they are both belong to a group of women who are white, mature, middle-class and are generally ladies of leisure; they don’t work and rely on their husbands’ income. Grace is your typical vodka-infused, uptight, emotionless Lucille Bluth type, and Frankie embodies new-age hippie culture and is more at home smoking a joint than “doing lunch.” The set-up of the show is nothing new; we expect the laughs to come from either tired stereotypes surrounding homosexuality or from Grace and Frankie bickering. It’s a pleasant surprise to find that Grace and Frankie doesn’t rely on old and unfunny cliches to make us laugh (or cry).

Whilst Grace and Frankie could easily have tailed off into a comedy about the titular character’s love/hate relationship, the main focus of the series is actually two women supporting each other and pulling one another through an incredibly painful time. The theme of age and the fear of growing old alone is prevalent through the series, reinforcing society’s stigmas about lonely spinsters. Television often has little time for older women, but Grace and Frankie explores the heartbreak and isolation that comes with going through a divorce after 40+ years. Whilst Grace and Robert seem to hate each other (and have done for some time), the saddest story is that of Frankie and Sol. At times gut-wrenching, we see two people who have formed a relationship on the best of a friendships and having to learn to live without it. Tomlin pulls of a phenomenal performance, and epitomizes the highs and lows of such a life changing event. There is a moment in “The Funeral” where Frankie accidentally gets into Sol’s car, forgetting for a moment that they won’t be going home together. It’s a small action, but so significant and Tomlin handles it with perfection.

Grace and Frankie 5

Even with all the seriousness, Grace and Frankie still has comedy at its heart. There are some wickedly funny lines (that mostly come from Tomlin’s Frankie) and provide plenty of occasions to laugh out loud. The gags don’t come thick and fast, unlike most contemporary comedy scripts, but Kaufman is clearly very happy to let the punchlines linger. It works superbly well because it allows the show to be incredibly funny without having to instantaneously move on to the next joke. At times it almost feels that there should be a laugh track within those pauses, but the absence of one actually helps to cement the reality of Grace and Frankie’s newfound situation. We are laughing because it’s the only way we can deal with this. Who hasn’t been there? There are also some hilarious recurring themes–Frankie’s relationship with technology, Grace’s exploration into sexuality and home-made lube, and the constant quips that the women throw at each other. Tomlin and Fonda’s onscreen chemistry is absolutely spot on, giving life to moments that may otherwise have fallen flat. One of the most refreshing things about Grace and Frankie is its attitude to female sexuality in older women. Life (moreover, sex) doesn’t have to stop because you’re getting older. The series illustrates this with frankness and honesty, and we don’t shy away from seeing the woman in that light. They aren’t just mothers, grandmothers or wives; they are women, with desires and emotions. It would have been great to see more of this, and more of Jane Fonda looking fucking amazing in lingerie!

The supporting cast are very likable, but Grace’s daughter Brianna (June Diane Raphael) is the standout star, often delivering the best lines of the series. The ensemble cast work incredibly well together, providing a neat backdrop for Tomlin and Fonda. Having said that,  the romance/non-romance between Coyote (Frankie’s son) and Mallory (Grace’s daughter) was one of the only issues I took with the series. I’m all for sub plots, but neither Coyote or Mallory are particularly engaging characters hence their “affair” seemed incredibly uninteresting, especially in comparison to the far more engaging main narrative.

Grace and Frankie could have also spent more time with its title characters -the show is about them, but a monumental amount of scenes were dedicated to Robert and Sol and the blossoming of their relationship. Whilst it was great to see a gay couple (especially an older gay couple) transcend camp cliches, I couldn’t help thinking that the show isn’t supposed to be about them. Certainly, the series feels more at ease when Tomlin and Fonda are onscreen and I just wished we had seen more of that, instead of the men.

Grace and Frankie triumphs because it doesn’t utilize the gay characters as a trope or a way to increase viewership. Sexuality doesn’t become a selling point. There is more to Robert and Sol than just their relationship, and there is far more to Grace and Frankie than just jilted middle-class ex-wives. It’s a sweet, easy to watch series which not only makes us laugh out loud but also gives us an insight into characters that are usually simply tired stereotypes. It’s probably not going to push any boundaries or make a statement, but enjoyable and well written. I, for one, can’t wait for Season 2.

Becky Kukla is a 20-something living in London, working in the TV industry (mostly making excellent cups of tea). She spends her spare time watching everything Netflix has to offer and then ranting about it on her blog.

13 Disappointing Things about ‘Grace and Frankie’

On the eve of the release of season 3 of ‘Orange is the New Black,’ and while the rest of the world’s feminist media critics still struggle to sort out ‘Sense8,’ I decided to take a look at one of Netflix’s least-buzzed-about original series: ‘Grace and Frankie,’ which premiered in May to little fanfare outside a late night tweet from one Miley Cyrus. ‘Grace and Frankie’ stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin as the title characters, whose husbands Robert and Sol (Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston) leave them for each other after admitting to a 20-years-running affair. Grace and Frankie move into the beach house the couples shared and forge an unlikely friendship while navigating the single life for septuagenarians. The show has its charms, such that I might have watched the entire season without journalistic integrity as a motivation, but ‘Grace and Frankie’ let me down in a lot of ways:

Promo image for 'Grace and Frankie'
Promo image for Grace and Frankie

On the eve of the release of season 3 of Orange is the New Black, and while the rest of the world’s feminist media critics still struggle to sort out Sense8, I decided to take a look at one of Netflix’s least-buzzed-about original series: Grace and Frankie, which premiered in May to little fanfare outside a late night tweet from one Miley Cyrus. Grace and Frankie stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin as the title characters, whose husbands Robert and Sol (Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston) leave them for each other after admitting to a 20-years-running affair. Grace and Frankie move into the beach house the couples shared and forge an unlikely friendship while navigating the single life for septuagenarians.  The show has its charms, such that I might have watched the entire season without journalistic integrity as a motivation, but Grace and Frankie let me down in a lot of ways:

You may also need vanilla ice cream bathed in whiskey, as enjoyed by Lily Tomlin as Frankie
You may also need big bowl of vanilla ice cream and whiskey, as enjoyed by Lily Tomlin as Frankie

 

1. The premise turns out to be rather boring. It is easy to imagine a late 90s pitch meeting, where “It’s like The First Wives Club—but their exes are gay. For each other!” is met with applause and pats on the back for cooking up something so “edgy.” And given that the creators of Grace and Frankie are 90s sitcom powerhouses Marta Kauffman (Friends) and Howard J. Morris (Home Improvement), you might expect something embarrassingly old-fashioned along those lines. Fortunately this is not the case, but Grace and Frankie overcorrects: everyone is so accepting of Robert and Sol coming out, and breaking up their marriages to do so, that most of the dramatic interest is obliterated.

2. This blandness coincides with an unfortunate case of bi-erasure. No one ever uses the B-word, even though Robert and Sol seem to have truly loved their wives romantically and sexually before falling for each other. [Spoiler alert!] A late-episode plot development will probably force reconsideration of this issue in season 2, but I’d rather bisexuality not be addressed through a negative stereotype like unfaithfulness.

She's a kooky free spirit, she's uptight and snobby!
She’s a kooky free spirit, she’s uptight and snobby!

 

3. The odd couple dynamic between Grace and Frankie is alarmingly unimaginative. One is a WASP and one is a hippie! Can you imagine the peyote-fueled hijinx that must follow?

4. It leans heavily on the HILARITY of old ladies saying dirty words while rarely bothering to weave those dirty words into otherwise funny dialogue.

"If anybody is gonna sit on Ryan Gosling's face, it's gonna be me!"
“If anybody is gonna sit on Ryan Gosling’s face, it’s gonna be me!”

 

5. And yet the series is remarkably chaste outside of its discussion of sandy vaginas and yam-based personal lubricants. Grace and Frankie wants to be celebrated for acknowledging the sex lives of seniors, but the most sexual chemistry we see on screen is between Lily Tomlin and the Scripps National Spelling Bee.

6. The characters are in the very boring As-Perpetually-Seen-on-TV Upper Upper Middle Class, and the show never engages with how the characters’ economic privilege intersects with their aging or sexual identity.

7. The first episode rips off the How to Get Away With Murder scene where Annalise removes her wig and makeup, which a) is significantly less meaningful with a white woman b) undermined by the drastically incomplete removal of Jane Fonda’s makeup. This is her “deconstructed” look:

Jane Fonda's "bare" face
Jane Fonda’s “bare” face

 

8. And for a show whose main selling point is celebrating women of a certain age, it is a shame they felt the need to shave eight years off Jane Fonda’s age and five years off Lily Tomlin’s to make both protagonists 70 years old. And then have Grace list her age as 64 on a dating website.

9. The one person of color in the cast is the least-developed character. That’s one of Sol and Frankie’s adopted sons, Nwabudike “Bud” Bergstein (Baron Vaughn). It feels like the one chance we get to know him is through his chemistry with his future sister-in-law Brianna (June Diane Raphael), but that relationship is sidelined in favor of…

June Diane Raphael and Baron Vaughn as Brianna and Bud
June Diane Raphael and Baron Vaughn as Brianna and Bud

 

10. The creepy “I stalk you because our love is so pure” “connection” between the other cross-section of future step-siblings: Mallory (Brooklyn Decker, who has surprising comic timing) and Coyote (Ethan Embry, who is disturbingly 20 years older than he was in Empire Records WHERE DOES TIME GO). Mallory has a hunky doctor husband and Coyote is a drug-addicted loser, but I think we’re still supposed to root for those two crazy kids to work it out? I am only rooting for a restraining order.

Brooklyn Decker and Ethan Embry as Mallory and Coyote
Brooklyn Decker and Ethan Embry as Mallory and Coyote

 

11. And June Diane Raphael is as underused as she normally is, in keeping with her place as television’s Judy Greer.

12. There is an episode in which some of the main characters are trapped in an elevator and one of the characters unexpectedly delivers a baby outside of a hospital setting, but these two storylines occur at different times and places. How dare you tease us with the cliché singularity, show, and not follow through.

Duty calls, Dolly!
Duty calls, Dolly!

 

13. Dolly Parton does not guest star, denying us the 9 to 5 reunion we want—no, need—no, DESERVE. This better be corrected in season 2.

Robin Hitchcock is a writer based in Pittsburgh who can personally attest to the deliciousness of whiskey-soaked vanilla ice cream.

Physical and Mental Health in ‘Orange is the New Black’

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Sophia leads the inmates in an episode-long exploration of “which hole” pee comes out of and the importance of knowing your body. This season really attempts to get at life in America’s underfunded and overcrowded minimum security prison system. While there’s still a ways to go in achieving a realistic portrayal of the dire reality many incarcerated women face, it’s the only piece of pop culture striving to do so.

Orange is the New Black on Netflix
Orange is the New Black on Netflix

This guest post by Scarlett Harris originally appeared on The Scarlett Woman and is cross-posted with permission.

Whereas last year’s inaugural season of Netflix’ women’s prison effort, Orange is the New Black, introduced us to the myriad characters in Litchfield Penitentiary through the incarceration of the WASPy Piper Chapman, this year is all about the more diverse women that wear orange (well, mostly beige).

Specifically, we see the challenges of staying physically and mentally healthy in America’s prison industrial complex.

Last season we did see some of these issues come to light; transgender inmate Sophia Burset, played by the incomparable Laverne Cox, had her hormone medication limited due to concerns about the drug’s side effects, while Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren’s mental illness was a comedic calling card for the show.

The incomparable Laverne Cox as Sophia Burset
The incomparable Laverne Cox as Sophia Burset

 

This year Suzanne’s backstory gets more airtime, as well as an explosive trajectory for Lorna Morello, which reveals that though both women probably need psychological counseling, they’re not going to get it at the indebted Litchfield. Instead, their issues fall through the cracks so much so that only Nicky is privy to exactly what Morello did to land her in prison.

Season two has been applauded for giving more airtime to the minor characters who also happen to be from racial minorities: Gloria, the Hispanic cook who took over the kitchen from Red and is serving time for welfare fraud, and her Latina cohorts; Vee, Taystee and Poussey’s familial-love triangle cum drug ring; and Rosa, the bank robber with terminal ovarian cancer.

 

Lorna Morello
Lorna Morello falls through the Litchfield cracks

 

There’s also been an influx of older women this season, whom feminist writer Sady Doyle describes as a “knitting circle” with “an alarming tendency to shiv people.” This includes dementia-ridden Jimmy, who wanders the grounds (and even inadvertently escapes!) looking for her presumably long-dead husband, Jack. Due to her deteriorating mental state, Jimmy is given “compassionate leave” which is revealed to be not-so-compassionate when you take into account that she has no family to look after her and is without the mental faculties to secure herself a home or care. Inmate Frieda predicts she’ll be out on the streets and “dead within a week.”

OITNB Elderly Inmate
Jimmy is released on “compassionate leave”

Jimmy’s release is apparently due to the above mentioned “budget cuts,” which seem to be happening all too regularly at Litchfield. Reporter Andrew Nance contacts Piper’s ex-fiance, writer Larry, and later Piper herself, to see if he can get the inside scoop on the missing millions from Litchfield.

There was talk of the building of a new gym, but that money—along with the gym—is nowhere to be found. The inmates’ bathrooms are leaking raw sewage and they have no heating in the Eastern winter. The prison’s dire financial state comes to a festering head in the penultimate episode of the season as a storm rips through Litchfield, leaving the prison flooded and without power, a backup generator, or whatever functioning plumbing they had left.

These appalling conditions contribute to newcomer Brooke Soso, Yoga Jones, Sister Jane and some girls from Pensatucky’s former laundry crew going on a hunger strike. Sister Jane’s past as an activist comes to light, and let’s just say she’s not as selfless as she makes herself out to be. Having said that, though, she berates prison administrator Caputo for releasing Jimmy with no accountability:

“The elderly are the fastest growing population in prison and they have special needs. So-called ‘compassionate release’ in lieu of care is completely unacceptable. You can’t dump sick old ladies on the street. It’s unconscionable, inhumane and illegal.”

Surely Rosa would be a better candidate for compassionate release as she has weeks to live?

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Sophia leads the inmates in an episode-long exploration of “which hole” pee comes out of and the importance of knowing your body. This season really attempts to get at life in America’s underfunded and overcrowded minimum security prison system. While there’s still a ways to go in achieving a realistic portrayal of the dire reality many incarcerated women face, it’s the only piece of pop culture striving to do so. If it keeps heading in that direction, who knows the depths season three will plumb, so to speak.

Scarlett Harris is a Melbourne, Australia-based freelance writer and blogger at The Scarlett Woman, where she muses about feminism, social issues, and pop culture. You can follow her on Twitter.

‘Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me’: Being a “Difficult” Older Woman

I remember a woman artist friend talking about Barbra Streisand: “When people called her ‘difficult’, it was probably just because she asked for a microphone that worked.” Broadway musical star Elaine Stritch’s reputation for being “difficult” is familiar even to those of us who can’t stand Broadway musicals. But all through the documentary ‘Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me’ (directed by Chiemi Karasawa who first met Stritch in a hair salon) I couldn’t help wondering if an 87-year-old man behaving the way Stritch (who was 87 when the documentary was shot) does in the film would be denigrated the way she has been (men are rarely called “difficult”–no matter what they do).

Elaine_Stritch_NoMakeup

I remember a woman artist friend talking about Barbra Streisand: “When people called her ‘difficult,’ it was probably just because she asked for a microphone that worked.” Broadway musical star Elaine Stritch’s reputation for being “difficult” is familiar even to those of us who can’t stand Broadway musicals. But all through the documentary Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me (directed by Chiemi Karasawa, who first met Stritch in a hair salon), I couldn’t help wondering if an 87-year-old man behaving the way Stritch (who was 87 when the documentary was shot) does in the film would be denigrated the way she has been (men are rarely called “difficult”–no matter what they do). Certainly the men Stritch has worked with in her long career don’t seem easygoing. In one scene Stritch reads aloud a letter Woody Allen wrote her in the ’80s listing point by point the circumstances under which he’ll work with her. One of his many conditions is that she can’t second-guess his wardrobe choices. Earlier we see Alec Baldwin have a hissy fit on camera because he thinks Stritch is stepping on his laugh line (Stritch is playing his character’s mother on 30 Rock). When he stalks out she laughs at him–as does the crew.

Stritch_Curlers

This partially Indiegogo-funded film has some superficial resemblance to Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, another documentary that followed a famous older, “difficult” woman as she prepared for and performed in shows, but Stritch doesn’t seem interested in using the film as a tool to bolster her image, the way Rivers did. Shoot Me has no scenes as cringe-worthy as the one in which Rivers takes her grandson to deliver meals to people with AIDS (as if Rivers headlining a fundraiser wouldn’t be a better use of resources) or the one in which Rivers mentions that she pays for the private school tuition of her employees’ children.

Stritch makes her home in a hotel, never had children, and her husband died 30 years ago, so she is free to focus on her own health, career and legacy–and doesn’t feel the need to launch a revisionist propaganda campaign. Stritch isn’t afraid to mumble wry asides when fans in the street approach, and she raises her fists in victory when she learns that she will still be paid for a gig canceled in the wake of a hurricane.

Stritch_Makeup_Hat

Stritch’s legendary directness and humor are aimed right at the filmmakers and audience, when, in the middle of talking about something else, she looks up to say, “Don’t you think that camera is awfully close?” When the camera pulls back she continues, “We’re not making a skin commercial here.”

Like many other artists, Stritch is working decades beyond the age most people retire. But the activities many senior citizens take up after they stop working–travel, singing, dancing, and acting–have been the staples of Stritch’s career since just before the end of World War II. When she was based in London (a fact that doesn’t make its way into the film though she even starred in a successful TV series there), she worked with the great English actor Sir John Gielgud (in the 1977 film Providence), who made his last film appearance in 1998 when he was 94. Gielgud was able to temper the exertion of his later work by taking smaller roles in films and also acting in radio dramas. For Stritch, her continued career is much more demanding: song and (in a limited way) dance in live appearances where she is the show.

Elaine Stritch, Triumphant During Her Live Show
Elaine Stritch, triumphant during her live show

Stritch has diabetes and some memory loss (her recall of long-ago events like her improbable–but photo-verified–two dates with a very young John F. Kennedy is razor-sharp) as well as an unsteady gait (she sometimes uses a cane and although she is unassisted while onstage, she needs assistance to make it there) and her voice shows the effects of age, but she’s still an effective performer. Before I saw the film I thought that audiences must go to her shows for nostalgia or for the same reason people in the mid-1990s went to see Courtney Love live, to see if she made it all the way through her act without collapsing or having a breakdown onstage.

Some of the film’s reviews seem to want to reframe the film as a pathetic spectacle with Stritch as an object of pity. They call Shoot Me “grim,”  “painful,” and “about aging and its myriad horrors.” These reviewers seem determined to review their own fears of aging (or what they imagine the life of an older woman is like) instead of what is actually onscreen. In the same way that disabled and older people shouldn’t be called “inspiring” just for living their lives in ways many of us who aren’t disabled or very old do, the film shows us that the effects of aging for Stritch aren’t tragic–any more than they are advantageous–but just inconveniences and obstacles for her to work around. Stritch herself says of her worry about forgetting song lyrics, “The fear is part of the excitement.”

Excerpts of the show in the film, as well as vintage clips of her recording her signature “Ladies Who Lunch” for a cast album, and even a clip of her acceptance speech for winning an Emmy show that she lets the audience (or in the cast recording, her songwriters) not just see her vulnerabilities, but share them and empathize with them. We see her in rehearsal for the show forgetting the lyrics to “I Feel Pretty” repeatedly and then, during the show, she forgets again, but makes the moment a comic one, getting the audience to root for her as she (eventually) comes up with the next line.

Stritch and her musical director, Rob Bowman
Stritch and her musical director, Rob Bowman

Stritch has a lot of friends, many of whom are much younger than she is: every time we see a shot of her bed at the hotel where she lives we also see a wall covered in post-it notes of names (some of them well-known to us through movies and television) with the phone numbers digitally blurred. Though Stritch has no children we see unrelated, younger people pitch in to help her: during the show and rehearsal, musical director, Rob Bowman, for an upcoming dedication, an assistant who sorts through old photos and other memorabilia and for miscellaneous errands a woman who sat next to her at an AA meeting long ago and in spite of Stritch’s demands (Elaine not only wanted a ride home from the woman; she told her she needed to clean up her car before picking her up again), credits Stritch with helping her maintain sobriety.

Stritch, after many years of recovery, informs us that she allows herself one drink a day, then after a hospitalization (for diabetes) stops drinking again, then during a birthday party at the end is back to “one drink a day.” But the definition of alcoholism is the inability to have just one drink. The revelation that since her retirement (always just around the corner in the film, which was shot two years ago, but as of last year, when she did one last show and moved out of New York seems permanent now), she has upped her limit to two drinks is worrying. In the film she argues that at 87 a limited amount of drinking won’t harm her and is something she feels like she deserves. She says, “It’s wonderful being almost 87. You can get away with just about anything.” Now that she’s 89, she might be right.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQysjiUA68U”]

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Ren Jender is a queer writer-performer/producer putting a film together. Her writing has appeared in The Toast, xoJane and the Feminist Wire. You can follow her on Twitter @renjender.

Cute Old Ladies Who Talk Dirty in ‘Nebraska’ and ‘Philomena’

But Payne doesn’t seem to give much thought to Kate’s situation. In all but one scene Kate is called on to be testy and not much else. Even though we laugh as she chirps the cause of death of a late, but not lamented relative and we feel satisfied when she cusses out greedy members of Woody’s family, the character is more of an exclamation point than a person.

June Squibb as Kate in Nebraska

The women in the films of writer/director Alexander Payne are a mixed bag. I enjoyed his early film, Citizen Ruth but the contempt he seemed to have for most of the women characters seeped into–and made me hesitate to laugh at–the movie’s comedy. I hated Election in spite of a pre-stardom Reese Witherspoon in the lead and the cool, teenaged lesbian character in a prominent supporting role: what some other critics have called misanthropy in Payne’s body of work seemed to me more like misogyny.

I skipped About Schmidt  because Jack Nicholson and Alexander Payne didn’t seem like a woman-friendly combination, a hunch confirmed when even male critics used the m-word to describe the film. I thought I’d also avoid Sideways with its manchild protagonist, but when I saw the movie, late in its run, I loved it: the same care had gone into developing the Virginia Madsen and Sandra Oh characters as Payne had put into creating the roles played by Paul Giamatti and Thomas Haden Church. Payne’s next film, The Descendants had a comatose, unfaithful “bad” mother at its crux but also showed her willful, smart-mouthed daughters (Shailene Woodley played the older of the two) at their most vulnerable. So I went into Nebraska, nominated for a slew of Oscars including Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actress and Best Director, hopeful but cautious. But in this film Payne seems to be going not sideways, but backwards.

Will Forte and Bruce Dern in 'Nebraska'
Will Forte and Bruce Dern in Nebraska

The film’s focus is on the relationship between two men: addled, alcoholic Woody (Bruce Dern, nominated for Best Actor) and his son David (Will Forte, who many know from his days on Saturday Night Live). David ends up taking his father on a quixotic road trip to collect the money Woody mistakenly and stubbornly believes he’s won through a letter from a company that is very much like Publishers’ Clearing House. We see many scenes that demonstrate the challenge Woody’s drinking and encroaching dementia are for his son (who seems to be around 40 and able-bodied), but David never considers that the trip might be a chance for his own mother to have a break from being Woody’s sole caretaker. Instead, David repeatedly says he agreed to drive his father over two states because the trip might be the last chance for the two of them to spend some time together.

June Squibb plays Woody’s wife and David’s mother, Kate, and is the film’s nominee for Best Supporting Actress (she also played Jack Nicholson’s wife in About Schmidt). She has the kind of face that moviegoers are used to seeing everywhere but onscreen: an 80-something woman who doesn’t appear to have undergone any plastic surgery and doesn’t look like she’s just come from a session with a team of makeup artists and hair colorists.

Bruce Dern and June Squibb
Bruce Dern and June Squibb

Anyone who has known an older woman left alone to take care of a husband in declining health will recognize the exasperated tone and facial expression Kate uses whenever she speaks to Woody. David, in contrast, is unfailingly patient and calm, like a cross between a therapist and Mr. Rogers, when he talks to his taciturn and pigheaded father, perhaps because he knows when the trip is over, his father’s care will go back to being Kate’s responsibility and will remain so until he dies–or she does.

We can see that Kate, direct and bereft of tact, is supposed to be a refreshing change from the smiling, always forgiving grandmothers of yore, but seeing her yell and swear reminds me of every role Betty White has played in recent years, the same role that goes to many other actresses once they hit 65. Dern’s character is also often angry and uses crude language, but as limited as his character is we do see other aspects of him, both in Dern’s performance and in exposition from the other characters. So much of our time and focus goes to this character, we think that his opaque and maddening surface will crack so that he can can finally show some affection and gratitude toward his son or to his old girlfriend whom his son encounters in the town where he was raised, but Woody remains selfish, irascible and without redeeming qualities to the end.

Parents and son

A better and more interesting movie would have included more about Kate. In spite of the women all around us who take care of men when they get old and sick (even though these women are often not young themselves) we very rarely see movies about a woman who is a caretaker: off the top of my head the only film I can think of is Marvin’s Room.  But Payne doesn’t seem to give much thought to Kate’s situation. In all but one scene, Kate is called on to be testy and not much else. Even though we laugh as she chirps the cause of death of a late, but not lamented, relative and we feel satisfied when she cusses out greedy members of Woody’s family, the character is more of an exclamation point than a person.

That we, in the audience, aren’t as sick of the Grandma Who Talks Dirty trope as we are of the Magical Negro or the Sassy Gay Best Friend shows that the culture either isn’t paying attention or doesn’t care how older women are portrayed. Philomena is another Oscar-nominated film (for Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Score) which features an older woman, and it left me frustrated for slightly different reasons.

DenchCoogan

Although Philomena is based on a true story about the title character (Best Actress nominee Judi Dench), it’s equally about the journalist, Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan), who helps in her search for the son who was taken from her (sold to American “adoptive” parents) when she was a young, single mother. Philomena Lee was sent to a Magdalen laundry (run by the Catholic Church but also supported by the Irish state) to have her baby and afterward forced, along with many other girl and women “sinners”, to work washing clothes for years afterward with no pay–a part of Irish history which receives a more detailed treatment in 2002’s The Magdalene Sisters.

I understand why the film makes Sixsmith an equal player in the story (the film is, after all, based on his book and was brought to the screen by Coogan), and the culture clash between romance-reading Philomena and Oxford-educated Martin is mildly entertaining, but this film reminded me a little too much of films from the 1980s like Mississippi Burning and Cry Freedom, in which stories about Black people were told through a white-guy main character and savior. I had the feeling if Sixsmith’s character had taken his rightful place as a background figure no producer would have put up the money for this film.

The real-life Sixsmith and Lee
The real-life Sixsmith and Lee

In Philomena, we again have an older woman with a surprising vocabulary: I guess I should be grateful that a mainstream movie features a lead actress (especially one of Judi Dench’s stature) saying the word “clitoris,” but I wish the scene weren’t played for a cheap laugh. Philomena Lee embodies contradictions that many of us have seen in our own families: women who remain devoted to the Catholic Church after years of being mistreated by it (with the people now around them pointing out that mistreatment), whose ideals are also more liberal than the church’s dogma.

I wanted to see more of the women I knew in Dench’s performance, but she’s miscast. She doesn’t sound any more Irish than…Judi Dench (and though some Irish people of Lee’s generation who moved to England made sure to lose their brogues–Lee wasn’t one of them–they didn’t then adopt Dench’s Received Pronunciation). Dench doesn’t speak in the same rhythm as someone from Ireland, or even as someone whose parents are from Ireland (though Dench’s mother was Irish). So Dench’s portrayal of Lee’s faith and forgiveness also fall flat. I have not seen any other review that notices how wrong Dench (as great as she has been in other roles) is for this part, the same way straight critics never seem to notice when two women playing lovers in a film have zero chemistry together. We’re supposed to be sated by seeing these women characters in a film at all. We aren’t supposed to want older women in films to do what they do in our lives outside movie theaters: to charm us, to move us, to sustain us.

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Ren Jender is a queer writer-performer/producer putting a film together. Her writing has appeared in The Toast, xoJane and the Feminist Wire. You can follow her on Twitter @renjender.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

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

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Take the Tarrant Test for 2014 Super Bowl Ads! at Ms. blog

Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth premieres nationally Friday, February 7 at 9 p.m. on PBS

Telling women’s stories will change the world, Sundance filmmakers say by Ellen Fagg Weist at The Salt Lake City Tribune

Watching Downton Abbey With an Historian: Birth Control by Mo Moulton at The Toast 

Study: Female Movie Stars’ Paychecks Decrease Rapidly After Age 34 by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Don’t Be a Dick: A Comic About the History of Lady-Centric Comics by Ladydrawers at Bitch Media

Harvey Weinstein: Quentin Tarantino producer vows to stop making excessively violet films by Tomas Jivanda at The Independent

Reel Girl’s List of Top 10 Movies Starring Heroic Girls to Show Your Kids at Reel Girl

Five Theories For What ‘American Horror Story: Coven’ Was Actually About by Alison Willmore at Indiewire

Watch This Anita Hill Documentary Trailer and Remain Calm, I Dare You by Hillary Crosley at Jezebel

7 Ways Stars Can Change Hollywood This Awards Season by Holly L. Derr at Role/Reboot

Shonda Rhimes on her DGA Diversity Award: ‘We’re a tiny bit p-ssed off that there has to be an award’ by Lindsey Bahr at Entertainment Weekly

4 Films about LGBT Muslims Everyone Needs to Watch at QWOC Media

Margaret Cho cast in Tina Fey-produced comedy by Sandra Gonzalez at Entertainment Weekly

Sexed up Powerpuff Girls point to Cartoon Network’s girl problem at Reel Girl

 

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

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

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

recommended-red-714x300-1

 

Women on screen aren’t allowed to grow old erotically by Lynne Segal at The Guardian

Infographic: Women and Hollywood – Better Luck Next Year… Or Next Decade by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

It Was a Good Year for Women on TV by Margaret Lyons at Vulture

TV’s (Slowly) Widening Race Lens by Teresa Wiltz at Colorlines

The Big O: Can a Woman Win an Oscar Without Falling in Love? by Susan Wloszczyna at Women and Hollywood

“Help, My Eyeball Is Bigger Than My Wrist!”: Gender Dimorphism in Frozen by Philip N. Cohen at Sociological Images

Watch Hour-Long C-SPAN Interview w/ ‘Free Angela’ Documentary Filmmaker Shola Lynch by Sergio at Shadow and Act

Paul Dini: Superhero cartoon execs don’t want largely female audiences by Lauren Davis at io9

Feminist Filmmaking Means NC-17 Rating from MPAA by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Black Girls Hunger for Heroes, Too: A Black Feminist Conversation on Fantasy Fiction for Teens by Zetta Elliott at Bitch Media

TRICKED: A Chat With The Filmmakers by Melissa McGlensey at Ms. blog

 

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