‘Mission Blue’: “No Ocean, No Us”

Audiences have to look to documentaries like ‘Particle Fever,’ about the discovery of the Higgs boson, to see women scientists in prominent roles on film. The Netflix documentary ‘Mission Blue’ focuses on one woman scientist, Sylvia Earle, a former chief at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and pioneering oceanographer and marine biologist who is on a quest to save the world’s oceans from dying.

MissionBlueCover

This (slightly edited) repost by staff writer Ren Jender appears as part of our theme week on Women Scientists.


When characters on TV shows or in feature films encounter “a scientist,” that person is usually a man. The rare times when actresses play scientists in mainstream films (besides the obvious recent example of Ghostbusters) they’re more likely to be a punchline than a real character, like Denise Richards in the James Bond film The World Is Not Enough. Audiences have to look to documentaries like Particle Fever, about the discovery of the Higgs boson, to see women scientists in prominent roles on film. The Netflix documentary Mission Blue focuses on one woman scientist, Sylvia Earle, a former chief at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and pioneering oceanographer and marine biologist who is on a quest to save the world’s oceans from dying.

If that last sentence seems like an exaggeration, you should probably see this film. Earle, (now 80, but 79 when the film was released nearly two years ago) has been scuba diving as part of her research for the past 60 years (where she got her undergrad degree was one of the first places to adopt this “new” technology) and has seen firsthand the destruction that pollution and overfishing have wrought — even in areas “in the middle of nowhere” we (and she) think might be unaffected. She points out plastic bags and bottles she encounters on the ocean floor along with long stretches of dead coral and hardly any fish in places where both previously flourished.

She asks, “How can we use the ocean and not use it up?” She’s not afraid to take on the fishing industry, describing her stint at NOAA: “I went to one meeting of the fisheries council. And I was never allowed to go again.” When she warned of the (still) impending extermination of bluefin tuna (because of overfishing) she earned the nickname, “The Sturgeon General.” She resigned from her government position so she could further ocean conservation without being tethered by politics.

The film isn’t all doom and gloom. We also see, in some stunning underwater cinematography (both reminiscent of the Jacques Cousteau documentaries and surpassing them) places where ocean life is plentiful: huge schools of fish that seem like shimmering silver walls along with harmless whale sharks and sea turtles touchingly unwary of divers. Earle is a great advocate of everyone exploring the ocean in this way, theorizing that people care more about wildlife and its environment if they can see it: if wildflowers, birds, trees and deer were hidden away from us we might not have many protections for them either. Earle points out that even though she’s not “big and muscly,” she’s been diving her entire adult life and was able to convince her own mother, at 81, to give it a try. She loved it.

SylviaWhaleSharkBlue

The film shows us the deep sea animals that Earle first encountered over 30 years ago in a special atmospheric diving suit she, along with her third husband, helped design. The natural flashing luminescence of fish and other sea creature at these depths look like city neon signs and gaudy Christmas displays all at once.

We also hear of Earle’s own journey first as a child allowed to explore, alone and for hours at a time, the wild places around her home (as few children now get the chance to do) and later her career as a scientist. She is careful to include herself when she says repeatedly that no one foresaw the depletion of a resource — the ocean and its inhabitants — that seemed too vast for human beings to impact. But now Earle says, “No ocean, no life. No ocean, no us.”

MissionBlueFish

Earle became a scientist before second-wave feminism, when hardly any women entered that profession and we see in the media coverage of her accomplishments (when she was often the first or only woman but usually called a “girl”), the sexism of the era, which she undoubtedly encountered on the job as well. But the film’s co-director and interviewer Fisher Stevens (yes, the same one who acted in films like Short Circuit — but more recently was a producer for The Cove) doesn’t ask about these instances, only gushes about how “beautiful” she was. Earle is polite to him, but, at 79, she might be wondering when she will finally be excused from the unofficial beauty pageant all women are subjected to.

This film could use more women. We barely see Earle interacting with other women scientists or divers in Blue (except very briefly in Australia and in vintage footage of her time as part of an all-woman team of researchers) though many more women are in the field now than when she started her career. Not enough women are behind the scenes either: the film was directed and written by men. When we consider Earle is not just a scientific pioneer, but also writes books about ocean conservation for the general public (including one released to coincide with this documentary — as well as children’s books) and is an effective enough speaker for lay audiences that she won a substantial monetary award as part of TED Talks, the omission of her from the film’s writing team is baffling. If her own writing had been included, some elements, like a casual mention of the acidification of the ocean (thanks to carbon dioxide emissions) might have been better explained.

BlueColor

I also would have appreciated more of Earle’s take on her personal life. She was married three times and had three children (with the addition, for about a decade, of stepchildren too) but as her daughter (who now runs the deep sea equipment company Earle founded) tells us she “wasn’t June Cleaver.” Earle was taking part in underwater expeditions halfway across the world from her family at a time when wives and mothers were expected to make their homes and their husbands (and their husbands’ careers) their first priority. Her marriages suffered because of her absences, even though each of the husbands shared her interests. In this era of Lean In and “having it all,” I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like to hear in more detail about the experience of someone who attempted this balancing act before most of the so-called “experts” were born.

When we see the “Happiness is being in over your head.” sticker (illustrated with a scuba diver) in her office we think Earle may be a lot more interesting than the documentary makes her (an impression that Earle in interviews seems to confirm), but she’s still able to get in some good, informative quotes like, “What we’re doing to the ocean, what we’re doing to the planet as a whole comes back to us in bigger storms, more powerful storms, more frequent storms.”

A better film might have tied in Earle’s past status as an outsider (when she was one of the few women in her field) and rebel (in not conforming to the ’50s and ’60s cultural expectations of what a wife and mother should be) to her current role as an environmentalist. When we see (in graphic footage) gleeful fisherman cutting the fins off living sharks and then dumping their mutilated bodies into the ocean to die, we can’t help thinking that this boys’ club gives its members permission to behave badly — as most boys’ clubs do. Because she’s never been one of the boys, Earle can see their cruelty — and its consequences — more clearly: she even films a fishing boat “vacuuming” up its catch — from the vantage point of the fish.

In spite of its flaws, Blue is well worth seeing — and succeeded in making me want to try scuba diving. Some of the shots in the film seem more magical than the brightly colored, hologram illustrations in my childhood copy of The Little Mermaid. As Stevens accompanies Earle through storybook seascapes I thought, “This is the ‘beauty’ he should be gushing over.”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1wp2MQCsfQ”]


Ren Jender is a queer writer-performer/producer putting a film together. Her writing. besides appearing 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.

‘Walking and Talking’ With Non-Toxic Women Friends

A short clip at the beginning of writer-director Nicole Holofcener’s first film, 1996’s ‘Walking and Talking,’ lets us know that Amelia (Catherine Keener) and Laura (Anne Heche) have been friends since adolescence. Both are in their 30s and living in New York City–Laura with her boyfriend Frank, and Amelia alone in the sort of sunlit airy apartment someone with her job, even in a pre-gentrified New York (which, like many films from then and now is also mysteriously bereft of people of color), would never be able to afford.

WalkingTalkingCover

This post by Ren Jender appears as part of our theme week on Female Friendship.

The pathetic lack of movies that pass the Bechdel test highlights another deficit in films: the screenwriter often forgets to give the women characters close women friends. An alien from another planet trying to figure out human behavior would get the impression from most movies (and a lot of TV) that women barely spend any time with other women. The alien would never guess that that the person an unpartnered woman (or one with a partner) is likely to confide in, to call in times of crisis or to just relax with, is not her guy “friend” (the one she might end up having sex with) but another woman, perhaps someone who she has been close to for years.

A short clip at the beginning of  writer-director Nicole Holofcener’s first film, 1996’s Walking and Talking,  lets us know that Amelia (Catherine Keener) and Laura (Anne Heche) have been friends since adolescence. Both are in their 30s and living in New York City–Laura with her boyfriend Frank, and Amelia alone in the sort of sunlit airy apartment someone with her job, even in a pre-gentrified New York (which, like many films from then and now is also mysteriously bereft of people of color), would never be able to afford.

Catherine Keener (in one of her first prominent film roles) and Anne Heche (before she dated Ellen DeGeneres) both look beautiful in most of the scenes without looking fussed over. Heche wears overalls and at one point wears a t-shirt with a hole in it to bed (much more likely sleepwear than the lingerie we see movie and TV women in long-term relationships wearing) while Keener, who has a job at the classified section of a newspaper (which, along with the landline phones–and long-distance bills–places this film firmly in the ’90s) wears–gasp–the same outfit more than once to her workplace.

The two women are allowed to be flawed in ways that women and girls in films rarely are. Laura is a therapist (she’s still in school but is close enough to getting her degree that she sees clients) and we can see that she’s neither great nor terrible at her job: she forgets one of her clients has a child–even though she had previously advised him to build a closer relationship with his son. During a session with another client, while he describes an angst-ridden sexual encounter, she becomes distracted as she fantasizes about fucking him.

WalkingTalkingWedding

Amelia has a penchant for saying the wrong thing: when she first sees Laura’s engagement ring she says it looks “fake,” but rushes to apologize and make amends when she realizes her mistake. She’s also surprisingly game and sweet with her ex-boyfriend’s father, who suffers from Alzheimer’s. When he repeats the same idea twice, she answers both times, “That sounds great,” with equal, unforced enthusiasm. Keener has worked with Holofcener in each of the director’s films but Amelia is both much funnier and kinder than the characters Keener played in Lovely and Amazing and Holofcener’s most recent release, the overrated Enough Said.

The women’s complexity also colors their relationships with men. We see Laura at turns deeply in love and irritated with the man who becomes her fiancé, Frank (Todd Field, who is better known now as a writer-director: his films include In The Bedroom and Little Children). Walking does a good job of showing how, especially in long-term relationships, those two emotions can be close to the surface at the same time.

Amelia is single and we see her mixed feelings about her best friend’s upcoming marriage from the beginning. I could have done without the heavy-handed symbolism of the 14-year-old cat, Big Jeans, the two women apparently shared when they were roommates–before Laura moved in with Frank–who is stricken with cancer (and given little chance of recovery). Still the film’s sharp wit saves even these scenes as when, just after they get the diagnosis Laura gently tells Amelia “I think you should put her down.” When Amelia motions to let the cat out of her arms, Laura says, “No, I mean…”

walking-and-talkingcat
The two friends are so close they even share a cat

Laura and Amelia are allowed to behave imperfectly the way male characters are allowed to be in many films, but women hardly ever are: Laura accepts the invitation from a waiter who has a crush on her to see him in a play and hangs out as his “date” afterward. Amelia has sex with the video clerk who has a crush on her (Kevin Corrigan, who was also excellent in a similar role in Slums of Beverly Hills ) even though she describes him as “the ugly guy” to Frank and Laura.

More importantly, Holofcener doesn’t let the characters wander too far from their core as decent human beings (something at which she has been less successful in her other films). When a screenwriter concedes a woman has woman friends, the “friends'” sole purpose can sometimes be to betray the friendship, so I was pleasantly surprised that when Amelia drops by to see Laura (when she’s out with the actor/waiter) and finds Frank alone (and ends up sharing hits off a bowl with him), they didn’t have sex, even though in everyday life most people are able to be friends with their friends’ partners–without ever fucking them.

The film captures the shifting dynamic of a single person’s interaction with a couple, sometimes finding a surprising affinity with a friend’s partner, sometimes the third wheel. And sometimes forming a united front with her friend, as when Frank, during a road trip, asks, “Do we have to listen to this vagina music all the way?” Both women simultaneously tell him, “Yes.”

We also see Laura cuts her “date” short, and Amelia decides she actually likes “the ugly guy”–and no longer thinks he’s ugly. We hear, at one point, in the background, Liz Phair (during her Exile in Guyville era): a good musical equivalent for the ups-and-downs of these women’s messy, romantic lives.

When it was released the film was a cornucopia of great, new talent: besides Holofcener herself (who has never made another film nearly this good), Heche, Keener and Field, Liev Shreiber (in one of his first film performances to receive any notice) plays Amelia’s ex-boyfriend, Andrew, and manages to make the character’s sad-sack neurosis charming. The film shows that all of these actors have a great gift for comedy–and makes me wish more movie comedies were worthy of them.

Although the women have tense moments and sometimes argue, they, like Frank and Laura, always eventually make up–and nothing they say or do to one another is bad enough that their friendship seems toxic, also a welcome surprise. Walking and Talking makes clear how important their relationship is to both women, even as they enter different stages of their lives. At the end when, just before Laura walks down the aisle, Amelia, wearing a pretty dress, hands her a shot of whiskey, we know these women–and their friendship–will be just fine.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veN5fuM-AwI”]

___________________________________

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.

‘Mission Blue’: “No Ocean, No Us”

When characters on TV shows or in feature films encounter “a scientist,” that person is usually a man. The rare times when actresses play scientists in mainstream films, they’re more likely to be a punchline than a real character, like Denise Richards in the James Bond film ‘The World Is Not Enough.’ Audiences have to look to documentaries like ‘Particle Fever’ (released earlier this year) about the discovery of the Higgs boson, to see women scientists in prominent roles on film. The new Netflix documentary ‘Mission Blue’ focuses on one woman scientist, Sylvia Earle, a former chief at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and pioneering oceanographer and marine biologist who is on a quest to save the world’s oceans from dying.

 MissionBlueCover

When characters on TV shows or in feature films encounter “a scientist,”  that person is usually a man. The rare times when actresses play scientists in mainstream films, they’re more likely to be a punchline than a real character, like Denise Richards  in the James Bond film The World Is Not Enough. Audiences have to look to documentaries like Particle Fever (released earlier this year), about the discovery of the Higgs boson, to see women scientists in prominent roles on film. The new Netflix documentary Mission Blue focuses on one woman scientist, Sylvia Earle, a former chief at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and pioneering oceanographer and marine biologist who is on a quest to save the world’s oceans from dying.

If that last sentence seems like an exaggeration, you should probably see this film. Earle, now 79, has been scuba diving as part of her research for the past 60 years (where she got her undergrad degree was one of the first places to adopt this “new” technology) and has seen firsthand the destruction that pollution and overfishing have wrought–even in areas “in the middle of nowhere” we (and she) think might be unaffected. She points out plastic bags and bottles she encounters on the ocean floor along with long stretches of dead coral and hardly any fish in places where both previously flourished.

She asks, “”How can we use the ocean and not use it up?” She’s not afraid to take on the fishing industry, describing her stint at NOAA: “I went to one meeting of the fisheries council. And I was never allowed to go again.” When she warned of the (still) impending extermination of bluefin tuna (because of overfishing) she earned the nickname, “The Sturgeon General.” She resigned from her government position so she could further ocean conservation without being tethered by politics.

The film isn’t all doom and gloom. We also see, in some stunning underwater cinematography (both reminiscent of the Jacques Cousteau documentaries and surpassing them) places where ocean life is plentiful: huge schools of fish that seem like shimmering silver walls along with harmless whale sharks and sea turtles touchingly unwary of divers. Earle is a great advocate of everyone exploring the ocean in this way, theorizing that people care more about wildlife and its environment if they can see it: if wildflowers, birds, trees and deer were hidden away from us we might not have many protections for them either. Earle points out that even though she’s not “big and muscly,” she’s been diving her entire adult life and was able to convince her own mother, at 81, to give it a try. She loved it.

SylviaWhaleSharkBlue
Sylvia with a whale shark

The film shows us the deep sea animals that Earle first encountered over 30 years ago in a special atmospheric diving suit she, along with her third husband, helped design. The natural flashing luminescence of fish and other sea creature at these depths look like city neon signs and gaudy Christmas displays all at once.

We also hear of Earle’s own journey first as a child allowed to explore, alone and for hours at a time, the wild places around her home (as few children now get the chance to do) and later her career as a scientist. She is careful to include herself when she says repeatedly that no one foresaw the depletion of a resource–the ocean and its inhabitants–that seemed too vast for human beings to impact. But now Earle says, “No ocean, no life. No ocean, no us.”

MissionBlueFish
We see the ocean in this film as a living thing.

Earle became a scientist before second-wave feminism, when hardly any women entered that profession and we see in the media coverage of her accomplishments (when she was often the first or only woman but usually called a “girl”), the sexism of the era, which she undoubtedly encountered on the job as well. But the film’s co-director and interviewer Fisher Stevens (yes, the same one who acted in films like Short Circuit–but more recently was a producer for The Cove) doesn’t ask about these instances, only gushes about how “beautiful” she was. Earle is polite to him, but, at 79, she might be wondering when she will finally be excused from the unofficial beauty pageant all women are subjected to.

This film could use more women. We barely see Earle interacting with other women scientists or divers in Blue (except very briefly in Australia and in vintage footage of her time as part of an all-woman team of researchers) though many more women are in the field now than when she started her career. Not enough women are behind the scenes either: the film was directed and written by men. When we consider Earle is not just a scientific pioneer, but also writes books about ocean conservation for the general public (including one released to coincide with this documentaryas well as children’s books) and is an effective enough speaker for lay audiences that she won a substantial monetary award as part of TED Talks, the omission of her from the film’s writing  team is baffling. If her own writing had been included some elements, like a casual mention of the acidification of the ocean (thanks to carbon dioxide emissions) might have been better explained.

BlueColor

I also would have appreciated more of Earle’s take on her personal life. She was married three times and had three children (with the addition, for about a decade, of stepchildren too) but as her daughter (who now runs the deep sea equipment company Earle founded) tells us she “wasn’t June Cleaver.” Earle was taking part in underwater expeditions halfway across the world from her family at a time when wives and mothers were expected to make their homes and their husbands (and their husbands’ careers) their first priority. Her marriages suffered because of her absences, even though each of the husbands shared her interests. In this era of Lean In and “having it all,”  I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like to hear in more detail about the experience of someone who attempted this balancing act before most of the so-called “experts” were born.

When we see the “Happiness is being in over your head.” sticker (illustrated with a scuba diver) in her office we think Earle may be a lot more interesting than the documentary makes her (an impression that Earle in interviews seems to confirm), but she’s still able to get in some good, informative quotes like, “What we’re doing to the ocean, what we’re doing to the planet as a whole comes back to us in bigger storms, more powerful storms, more frequent storms.”

A better film might have tied in Earle’s past status as an outsider (when she was one of the few women in her field) and rebel (in not conforming to the ’50s and ’60s cultural expectations of what a wife and mother should be) to her current role as an environmentalist. When we see (in graphic footage) gleeful fisherman cutting the fins off living sharks and then dumping their mutilated bodies into the ocean to die, we can’t help thinking that this boys’ club gives its members permission to behave badly–as most boys’ clubs do. Because she’s never been one of the boys, Earle can see their cruelty–and its consequences–more clearly: she even films a fishing boat “vacuuming” up its catch–from the vantage point of the fish.

In spite of its flaws, Blue is well worth seeing–and succeeded in making me want to try scuba diving. Some of the shots in the film seem more magical than the brightly colored, hologram illustrations in my childhood copy of The Little Mermaid. As Stevens accompanies Earle through storybook seascapes I thought, “This is the ‘beauty’ he should be gushing over.”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1wp2MQCsfQ”]

___________________________________

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.