Pixar – Bitch Flicks

‘Inside Out’: Does Riley Lack Agency?

Does Riley make decisions of her own, or are her decisions made for her by Anger, Disgust, Fear, Joy, and Sadness? … If Riley were completely subject to the whim of her emotions, they would be able to control her in any way at any time. However, ‘Inside Out’ repeatedly conveys that there are limits to what they can do when they interact with Riley.

This is a guest post written by Margaret Evans.

A few months ago, legendary animator Don Bluth made an interesting observation about the movie Inside Out. According to Bluth, Riley, the central character, lacks agency. This was a claim that I felt warranted further thought. Does Riley make decisions of her own, or are her decisions made for her by Anger, Disgust, Fear, Joy, and Sadness?

In order to answer that question we must first take a look at the emotions themselves. They are Riley’s emotions, each one is the embodiment of what Riley is feeling. You would think that this would end the debate there and then. If these characters are the expressions of Riley’s feelings than surely Riley does have agency. However, it should be noted how the emotions talk about Riley. While the emotions talk about Riley’s life as if it is their own, they talk about Riley in the third person. This has the unfortunate effect of distancing Riley from her emotions. Ironically, the well-rounded nature of her emotions works against the story that Pixar is trying to tell. We see her emotions as complete people in their own right rather than extensions of Riley. This isn’t helped by the fact that we see all of Riley’s decisions from the perspective of the emotions, reinforcing the idea that Riley is someone they collectively control.

Despite this, I still believe that Riley does exert some agency in Inside Out. Certain aspects of the film show the emotions being influenced by outside factors that they can’t explain. At the beginning, Sadness finds herself feeling the urge to participate in a way that she hasn’t in the past, much to the chagrin of Joy; a happy memory turns sad at Sadness’ touch and Joy is unable to merely change it back. When asked why she is “acting up,” all of a sudden Sadness doesn’t know why. This clearly indicates an example of Riley influencing how the emotions feel father than the other way around.

In my mind, this is just one way that proves that the emotions are the embodiment of how Riley feels rather than the deciders of how Riley feels. The emotions collectively may have put Joy in charge, but when Riley is sad, the film ultimately proves that they can’t just make Riley happy when it suits them.

Another example of this is the difference between two similar points in the movie. During a scuffle, Joy and Sadness are sucked up into Riley’s mind. Later, Fear tries to get the exact same thing to happen to him but it fails. No explanation within the film is given for this but I would argue that Riley subconsciously rejected Joy and Sadness and retained Fear. She wasn’t happy or sad but she was angry, disgusted and afraid. Finally, at the end of Inside Out, only Sadness is able to have any affect on Riley. Until Sadness gets through to her, the console that the emotions have been using throughout the film becomes completely inoperable.

If Riley were completely subject to the whim of her emotions, they would be able to control her in any way at any time. However, Inside Out repeatedly conveys that there are limits to what they can do when they interact with Riley. The emotions inhabit a world which is clearly governed by rules and they are subject to those rules.

When we watch Inside Out, it’s easy to look at the emotions and think that the personification of how Riley feels starts and ends with them. But it doesn’t. The train of thought that we see is just as important to understanding Riley as the emotions. The ground that Joy and Sadness walk on through their journey is just as much a part of Riley as the emotions themselves.

Ultimately, the reason why it appears that the emotions call the shots is because the way that Riley influences the emotions is much more subtle than the way that the emotions influence her. The emotions affect Riley in a very straightforward way that is easy to see: they press a button or pull a lever. The way that Riley impacts the emotions, however, remains subtle, and therefore much harder to identify. We see Riley’s influence in the rules that govern her mind — we are told that memories fade because she “decides” she doesn’t need them anymore — and when Joy can’t alter a memory near the end of the film. Riley doesn’t lack agency as her agency propels the plot and the choices she makes.

Margaret Evans is a blogger from Godalming, a small town in south England. She currently writes the blog Plot Twists and Continuity.

‘Inside Out’: Female Representation Onscreen But Not Off

It’s therefore unsurprising that the character who most drives the plot of the film is Riley’s dad (voiced by Kyle MacLachlan). In fact, the film is largely one big piece of advice for fathers from fathers.

(SPOILERS for Pixar’s Inside Out)

As pointed out by Natalie Wilson on Bitch Flicks, Pixar’s latest film, Inside Out, about a preteen girl and her characterized emotions, has plenty to enJoy. It’s a female-centric film, with three leading female protagonists – the 11-year-old Riley (voiced by Kaitlyn Dias), her leading emotion Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler), and Joy’s least favorite co-emotion, Sadness (voiced by Phyllis Smith). There are also many other female characters, such as Disgust (voiced by Mindy Kaling) and Riley’s best friend Meg (voiced by Paris Van Dyke), and unnamed but still important characters such as Riley’s mom (voiced by Diane Lane). So many female characters with leading or otherwise key roles in the story means that the Bechdel Test is passed in multiple scenes. Nevertheless, while there is much gender diversity, and to a lesser extent ethnic divsersity, there is much less diversity offscreen.

All four producers were men. Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen, a White man and a Man of Color, co-directed and came up with the story. Of the three people who wrote the screenplay, there was one woman (Meg LeFauve), and the music, film editing, and art direction were all done by men, and most of the rest of the crew is male. This is despite the fact that not only does the film feature many female characters, but most of the film actually takes place inside the mind of a girl. And yet, not only was the film mainly created by men, but even the scientific and psychological consultants who were brought on board to help Pixar create an accurate and authentic portrayal of the workings of a girl’s mind, were men. Sure, the daughters of the film’s creators provided the “inspiration” for the story, but it’s not their names on the film. It’s therefore unsurprising that the character who most drives the plot of the film is Riley’s dad (voiced by Kyle MacLachlan). In fact, the film is largely one big piece of advice for fathers from fathers.

Riley’s dad is the one who moves the family from Minnesota to San Francisco for the sake of his start-up business, and it is this move that is the impetus for the plot and the changes that take place in Riley. Though not portrayed as an actual villain, the film puts a fair amount of blame for Riley’s unhappiness on Riley’s mother. It is Riley’s mom who brings in the dad to reprimand Riley’s “attitude,” and the argument between Riley and her dad escalates quickly. It is Riley mom who most encourages Riley to “keep smiling” and be “happy,” putting pressure on Riley to show happiness and optimism whether she feels them or not for the sole sake of making the move easier on her parents. It is this pressure that hurts Riley the most. She feels such pressure to be happy that she even attempts to run away in order to find happiness, and steals money from her mother for her bus ticket.

This pressure on Riley to provide her parents with happiness is emphasized by the subtle but present fact that Riley is adopted, and by her mom’s line, “What did we ever do to deserve you.” Riley is blonde and blue-eyed, while both her parents have brown hair and eyes. When baby Riley “meet[s]” her parents, her mother does not look like she just gave birth, and isn’t sitting in a hospital bed. Riley’s parents adopted Riley to make them happy, and inadvertently put pressure on her to continue to make them happy by feigning constant happiness herself. At the end of the film, it is Riley’s father who gives the strongest lines of comfort to Riley, assuring her that it’s all right for her to miss Minnesota and to be sad. This elevates the role of the dad, while at times even condemning the mother. Though this is slightly balanced by portraying the mother as more intelligent than the father at times, this too emphasizes the kindness and innocence of the father and making the mother look like a downer and someone fast to criticize others.

The film serves a dual purpose: beautifully letting children know that it’s OK to feel sad sometimes, while also encouraging parents (especially fathers) to be more understanding of their children. The bond between fathers and daughters, and the inspiration for the film itself, is emphasized by the fact that while Riley is a complex character, much (if not most) of what makes her that way is her similarity to her father. Her father daydreams about hockey, and Riley plays hockey. Her father at first condemns her anger in their argument despite his leading emotion being anger. (Interestingly, the emotions in the mother’s head are female and the emotions is the father’s head are male, while Riley has emotions of both genders. Evidently, this was done so that the cast was more “diverse” because goodness knows that men need more roles in film…) The toll of the move is shown to be harder for Riley and her father, while her mother encourages Riley to make the move easier for her father by showing herself to be happy. At the end of the film, Riley and her father reunite due to their shared feelings of sadness, while mother’s emotions are given less consideration.

At the end of the film, Riley is problematically put into the male gaze, as not only Riley’s parents but a boy who instantly develops a crush on her watch her play hockey, and the male emotion Anger (voiced by Lewis Black) guides her actions. Despite there being many, many other ways to continue Riley’s story, when the DVD of Inside Out is released, it will contain a short about Riley’s first date (which will be with a boy) and the anxiety that her father feels about it. This further emphasizes Riley’s role in relation to men and boys, and arguably takes autonomy away from her by focusing on her father and the boy.

Male sacrifice is also emphasized by the film. Riley’s imaginary boyfriends constantly state that they would “die” for Riley, and there words are proven to be true statements. A more heartbreaking instance of male sacrifice is the one carried out by Riley’s imaginary friend Bing-Bong (voiced by Richard Kind). So emotional is the character’s storyline that more than one article has been dedicated to him, such as BuzzFeed’s humorous one and Slate’s interview with a child psychologist about Bing-Bong’s role.

I and many others loved Inside Out, and viewed it in theaters more than once due to liking it so much. Its female characters are well-developed and engaging, and pass the Bechdel Test often. The maternal role that Joy feels for Riley is beautiful, especially when Joy is watching a memory of Riley skating, and pretends to skate along with her. However, the film emphasizes the need for women behind the camera, and Hollywood can only ignore the voices shouting for diversity for so long.

Pixar’s ‘Inside Out’ Provides Long-Term Joy

As for ‘Inside Out,’ it gives us not one female protagonist, but three – Riley, Joy, and Sadness – and NONE of them are princesses! And, minor criticisms aside, the film is a true joy to watch – and, like deeply felt joy – it has its moments of hilarity, of reflection, of nostalgia, and, yes, of sadness too.

This guest post by Natalie Wilson previously appeared at Skirt Collective and is cross-posted with permission.

Inside Out is an excellent addition to the Pixar canon, one that, like the equally amazing Brave, has female characters front and center. A coming-of-age story about Riley, a young tween forced to leave her beloved Minnesota, the film departs from the typical stories about girlhood – stories that often focus, in soppy-romantic-teen-angsty fashion on L-O-V-E at the expense of character development and female friendship. Some of these films are good (yes, I admit to liking The Notebook), some are rather great (I sobbed my face off at The Fault in Our Stars), and some make me feel like spewing vomit Exorcist-style (Breaking Dawn). Inside Out is in a league of its own, however – hardly surprising given the unstoppable Amy Poehler is the lead voice.

Focusing mainly on the inner-workings of Riley’s brain, the film is a coming-to-emotional-maturity story featuring Riley’s main emotions – Joy (Amy Poehler), Fear (Bill Hader), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling) and Sadness (Phyllis Smith). These emotions run “Headquarters” – the part of Riley’s brain that creates the “core memories” making up her identity. The unflappable and infectious Joy believes herself to be Riley’s most important emotion, but when the usually happy Riley goes into a tailspin after the family’s move to San Francisco, havoc erupts at “Emotion Headquarters”causing Joy and Sadness to embark on a journey through Riley’s brain in hopes of salvaging her once happy, confident personality.

The movie is brimming with clever nods to how we think about thinking (Riley’s brain includes a “Train of Thought”), pop-psychology (trouble-making memories and thoughts get taken to the prison-like subconscious), and imaginary friends (in the form of Bing-Bong). It is perhaps Pixar’s deepest film, a laugh- and tear-fueled lesson about the key role emotions and our thoughts about them play in our lives. Nope, this is not the id-filled fun of Toy Story, or the ego-pumping race of Cars, but a super-ego tinged exploration of how our emotions will control us if we don’t get control of them.

Most of the movie takes place within the landscape of Riley’s mind, allowing for witty forays into the dream production center (replete with its “reality distortion filter”), inventive exploration of abstract thought (characterized as a “danger zone”), and adroit usage of those commercial ear-worms that take-over one’s brain. The scenes set in real-world San Francisco are similarly delightful, mocking the ire Riley feels when broccoli pizza is the only choice on the menu, evoking the horrors of being the new kid at school, and capturing the frustrations of trying to fit one’s old life into a new house.

The film’s use of emotion and memory is inventive and ingenious, ultimately offering a lesson about the importance of emotional diversity (hint: Joy, as it turns out, is not quite as important as she thinks). Adding to the poignancy of the emotional rollercoaster ride (my daughter named it “the saddest kids movie ever”), is the incredible cast of voice actors. Joy is reminiscent of Poehler’s ever-positive Parks and Rec character, while Phyllis Smith (from The Office) stands out ingeniously as Sadness, playing her blue-bodied character with the palpable dreary, depressive ennui that all of us (except Leslie Knope perhaps) experience at some point or another.

If I have a quibble with the film, it would be with its gendering of emotions. While it is hard to portray genderless characters to an audience still embroiled in the gender binary, some slight changes could have nudged the film towards a more gender-fluid narrative. Riley’s emotions are presented as a mixture of female (Joy, Sadness, Disgust) and male (Anger and Fear). This gendering of her emotions nods to the “unfixedness” of gender pre-puberty, especially as all the adults (most notably, her mom and dad) are presented as having emotions that match their sex/gender (and the dad’s are not only male, but think in sports terms!).

The end of the film, which includes a look inside the brains of various characters, accords with this view – that once someone moves beyond puberty into the realm of adulthood, one’s emotions “match” the sex/gender of the person. While this is a minor criticism of an otherwise great film, it could have been easily remedied by not stereotypically displaying the inner minds of post-puberty characters. I get it, stereotypes are a quick and fast route to comedy, but they also lead us to dead-end either/or thinking. One other beef is that Riley’s mom (voiced by Diane Lane) doesn’t seem to have a job. No, not ALL women have to have jobs/careers, and NOOOOOOOOOOOOO I am not saying that being a mother is not a more-than-full-time, important job — what I am questioning is a world in which dads are still depicted as the major breadwinners and also often get to be “good dads” to boot, while moms are more often “just moms.” Perhaps these gender-conforming aspects of the film can be partially put down to what one reviewer calls “the Mouse’s boot” on Pixar’s neck – or, in other words, the fact that Disney now owns Pixar. Yet, while Pixar admittedly gave us a marvelous run of inventive movies that put the tried-and-true princess narratives to shame, they were not without their gender problems, with Brave standing out as the most feminist in its exploration of gender confines that bind.

As for Inside Out, it gives us not one female protagonist, but three – Riley, Joy, and Sadness – and NONE of them are princesses! And, minor criticisms aside, the film is a true joy to watch – and, like deeply felt joy – it has its moments of hilarity, of reflection, of nostalgia, and, yes, of sadness too. I agree with this review, that “One viewing is nowhere near enough to appreciate the extraordinary level of detail lavished on this world.”

So see it and see it again, my many-emotioned friends, and take all your emotions with you, even the non-gender conforming ones!

Natalie Wilson teaches women’s studies and literature at California State University, San Marcos. She is the author of Seduced by Twilight and blogs for Ms., Girl with Pen and Bitch Flicks.

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!

Anita Sarkeesian shares the most radical thing you can do to support women online by Casey Newton at The Verge

A Reminder: Net Neutrality by Ali at Autstraddle

Girls on Film: Why the Toronto International Film Festival is the best platform for female filmmakers by Monika Bartyzel at The Week

TIFF 2014 Review: Few Movies Have Given Female Characters Such Prominence & Agency as in ‘The Keeping Room’ by Zeba Blay at Shadow and Act

The Renaissance Of Reese Witherspoon by Melissa Silverstein at Forbes

Afghanistan’s Teen Girls Turn The Camera On Kabul by Jackie Leahy at Bust

BitchTapes: Grrrlhood (Songs From Films With Female Directors) by James Anthofer at Bitch Media

The Most Radical Films About Young Women’s Lives by Alison Nastasi at Flavorwire

How Should We Remember Joan Rivers? by Gabrielle Moss at Bitch Media

‘Orange is the New Black’ Adds Another Black Corrections Officer by Jamilah King at Colorlines

Barrel Chests, Brawn, and Buffoonery: Controlling Images of Masculinity in Pixar Movies by Tristan Bridges at Feminist Reflections

“Strong Women Characters” Who Made Mistakes (And Learned From Them) by Diana Biller, Chaleece N. Johnson, Vesna Cemas and Kyra Baker at io9

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

Summer Movie Preview

Written by Max Thornton.

Time’s relentless onward march has brought us to the end of April. In just a few days it will be the first weekend in May, which is – in the strange, terrifying minds of Hollywood executives – the first weekend of summer.

Summer movies are an odd and frustrating bunch. I have taken a cursory glance at some of 2013’s biggest, emptiest spectacles and pre-judged them with extreme censure, so you don’t have to.

Iron Man 3 (May 3)

The deal: The first Iron Man was a pleasing diversion for a world with low expectations of a second-tier-superhero film. The second Iron Man was much like the first, but bigger, louder, and overlong. If other superhero trilogies are anything to go by, the third Iron Man will be even bigger, even louder, and – 130 minutes, are you freakin’ kidding me? Why does no one heed Hitchcockian wisdom re: film lengths and bladders?

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 25%. Rebecca Hall has third billing after Robert Downey Jr. and Gwyneth Paltrow, but I’ve seen a superhero movie before, and I don’t really expect anyone to talk about anything other than Iron Man.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: The inestimable Andrew Ti of Yo, Is This Racist? says 100%. Who am I to dissent?

Will I see it?: Eventually, probably on DVD. I don’t care very much about Iron Man, but I am a little stoked to learn it’s directed by Shane Black, writer-director of my beloved Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.

The Great Gatsby (May 10)

The deal: You went to high school. You don’t need me to tell you what The Great Gatsby is about. (But, if you need a refresher, it’s boring and the plot is basically the same as R. Kelly’s Trapped in the Closet.)

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: Like no percent, unless they change stuff from the book I guess.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: 100%. It’s about straight white rich people, like fully all of big Hollywood movies.

Will I see it?: No. I don’t like Gatsby and I don’t like Baz Luhrmann. If you have a different opinion on either or both of these things, you will feel differently.

Star Trek Into Darkness (May 17)

The deal: Much like the first Iron Man, the 2009 Star Trek reboot was a slight popcorn delight for those of us with low expectations; much like Iron Man 2, this latest Trek will probably sink under the weight of current heightened expectations. If nothing else, it’ll be jolly to once again witness Karl Urban channel DeForest Kelley (and cringe at Simon Pegg’s Scottish accent, oy).

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 25% if I’m generous. There are fully two lady-type humans in this movie, and as much as I’d like the writers to overcome the failures of the original series, that’s a lot of failure to overcome.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: High. See above re: failures of TOS.

Will I see it?: I don’t see how I can possibly avoid it.

Spaceship! *starts salivating*

The Hangover Part III (May 24)

The deal: No.

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 0%.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: 1000%.

Will I see it?: Oh fuck no.

Man of Steel (June 14)

The deal: Superman is boring and zzzzzzzzz.

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: Low.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: High.

Will I see it?: Yawn.

World War Z (June 21)

The deal: World War Z is probably the greatest zombie novel ever written and you should go out and read it, like, yesterday. I am so over how enormously boring this film adaptation looks, and I mourn for the TV miniseries that was once talked about and would have been a much better way of adapting the sprawling complexities of the book.

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 10%. If Brad Pitt is the core linking the story together, I can’t see much happening without him. Also, I’m very afraid that this movie will do the horrible Walking Dead/ Stephen King / every apocalypse story ever thing of taking the apocalypse as an excuse to revert all of humanity to gross reductive caveman gender roles.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: 90%. A summer Hollywood blockbuster in which a white dude travels all around the world trying to save it? Racism, xenophobia, and neocolonialist paternalism pretty much guaranteed.

Will I see it?: I expect so, and I expect I’ll hate it.

Seriously, read the book.

Monsters University (June 21)

The deal: While I hear the argument that Pixar needs to take a step back from the sequel-ing and prequel-ing, they had me as soon as this website rocked up months and months ago. And tell me that any TV enthusiast could look at the list of voice talent involved without squeeing: Nathan Fillion! Aubrey Plaza! John Krasinski! Charlie Day! Dave Foley! And that’s just the people who are on TV shows I like!

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 5%. Pixar is awesome at so many things, but representing the non-male demographic is not one of them. I will continue to dream of a scene in which Aubrey Plaza’s character and Helen Mirren’s character hang out and shoot the shit, but I don’t hold out hope.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: I mean, it’s a movie about monsters? I don’t know to what extent I can really hold it accountable for, say, race!fail.

Will I see it?: HELL YES.

Pacific Rim (July 12)

The deal: I may have mentioned this before, but I am losing my mind over how impossibly amazeballs this movie looks. ROBOTS VS. ALIENS. GUILLERMO DEL TORO. IDRIS ELBA. My fingertips are tingling just typing about it.

Likelihood of passing the Bechdel test: 5%. Women are not so much with the being in this movie.

Likelihood of general intersection!fail: 70%. Rinko Kikuchi is in this movie, and if God loves me she will share scenes with Idris Elba and my eyeballs will burst into flames from so much hotness onscreen at once; but I know better than to expect, say, queers or PwD to be represented meaningfully in mainstream SF.

Will I see it?: HELL EVEN YES-ER.

Hee hee

This summer in sum: Not every forthcoming blockbuster looks to be entirely egregious in every respect – some of them I might even enjoy quite a bit – but women are conspicuously, depressingly, appallingly underrepresented in the big popcorn flicks. As usual, Hollywood utterly fails to notice or care that women comprise half the human race, and we’ll have to look to smaller and independent cinema for acknowledgment of that basic, yet still somehow controversial, fact.

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Max Thornton blogs at GayChristian Geek, tumbles as transsubstantial, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax.

When Life Gives You Infertility, Make Your House Fly: Found Family in ‘UP’

Carl and Ellie in their home

This is a guest post written by Talia Liben Yarmush for our theme week on Infertility, Miscarriage, and Infant Loss.

Pixar’s UP begins with young Carl, an adventure-admiring, imaginative boy meeting his match in young Ellie. The two hit it off instantly with their shared interest in everything adventure, and the first eleven and a half minutes are an ode to their lifelong mutual devotion to each other. They become fast friends; they fall in love, marry, and build a life together. The only thing missing? After Ellie suffers a miscarriage, the two are immeasurably saddened by the loss of this baby. In an attempt to fill the void, Carl establishes an “Adventure Fund,” so that together they may one day be able to live what they always dreamed. However, with each passing year comes a new obstacle, requiring them to deplete their funds over and over again. Until one day, Ellie, old and weak, dies. And Carl is left alone with sadness and regret at not giving Ellie her big adventure. When I saw UP in the theater, I was sitting next to my husband, a man I met when I was 14, became best friends with, married, and was now going through infertility treatments with. So, this intro hit pretty close to home.

As I see it, the two infertility themes in this story are miscarriage and living childfree. Despite my vast experience with infertility, I am not personally familiar with either of these. I have, thankfully, never had a miscarriage (although during one very painful episode of endometrial bleeding, my husband and I were sure that I was in the midst of one), and thanks to IVF, I now have two sons. I can tell you that the first theme, miscarriage, is shown in only seconds, and it is a scene that will remain with you throughout the entire film. In thirty seconds, this animated family film is able to portray the loss in such a visceral way that even if you have never had an experience like it, you will be brought to tears. And I can tell you that the second theme, living childfree, is complicated and filled with mixed emotions. Carl, tormented by his inability to give his wife what she wanted, finally realizes by the end of the film that Ellie’s life with him was her adventure, and that she was happy with it. Many couples must make the difficult decision whether to keep trying, to continue fertility treatments, to hope that the next cycle works, that the next pregnancy sticks, to attempt adoption, or to somehow find a way to come to terms with a life without children. Some couples make this decision. But for some, the decision is made for them.

Carl and Ellie prepare the nursery for their baby

The question is what to do once that decision has been made. Once an infertile couple mourns the loss of a life without children and finds peace with their new reality, can the void ever be filled by something or someone else? Ellie, as we learn, was happy and satisfied with the life she lived with Carl. But once Ellie died, Carl was left alone. No children. Just memories and unfounded regret. Until he meets Russell. Russell reminds Carl of the boy he once was, and of the girl he married. He reminds him of the family he wanted with Ellie, and of the adventures they’d hoped to go on. Some view Russell as the child that Carl never had. In fact, we find out that Russell himself has an absent father, so Russell was searching for a father just as much as Carl was searching for a son. But I don’t see it in those terms. Russell is a friend, he is a companion, he is a playmate. Russell is Carl’s family. Because we don’t always get to live the life that we had planned. But we do get to choose a great many things. We can choose to keep on fighting for what we want. Or we can choose to make peace with the lives that we have. And, most importantly, we can choose our family, even if we can’t create them ourselves.

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Talia Liben Yarmush is a freelance writer and editor. She is also an infertile mother who writes her own blog, The Accidental Typist.

2013 Oscar Week: ‘Brave’ and the Legacy of Female Prepubescent Power Fantasies

Written by Amanda Rodriguez.

I liked Disney Pixar’s Brave well enough. It’s pretty enough. It’s a story about a mother and daughter, and there was no romance, both of which are nice; though, as I’ll show, neither are as uncommon as they might initially appear. I didn’t find the feminist qualities of this movie to be particularly impressive. Brave is actually situated within a somewhat prolific trope of female prepubescent power fantasy tales. Within this trope, young girls are allowed and even encouraged to be strong, assertive, creative, and heroes of their own stories. I call them “feminism lite” because these characters are only afforded this power because they are girl children who are unthreatening in their prepubescent, pre-sexualized state.

Let’s consider a few examples.

First, we’ve got Matilda, a film based on the eponymous novel by Roald Dahl. This story is about a genius six-year-old girl who realizes she has telekinetic powers. Matilda is brave and kind to those who deserve it and punishes authority figures who take advantage of their positions of power. This story, similar to Brave, is about the budding (surrogate) mother/daughter relationship between Matilda and her kindergarten teacher, Miss Honey. They find idyllic happiness at the end of the film when they adopt each other to form their own little family.

“I can feel the strongness. I feel like I can move almost anything in the world.” – Matilda

Then there’s Harriet the Spy, based on the book by Louise Fitzhugh, about an inquisitive, imaginative girl who learns the power of her voice and how her words affect others. Another potent mother/daughter bond is featured between Harriet and her nanny, Golly.

“You’re an individual, and that makes people nervous. And it’s gonna keep making people nervous for the rest of your life.” – Golly

We can’t forget Pippi Longstocking, based on the book series by Astrid Lindgren. Pippi is independent and adventurous with a slew of fantastical stories. She also has incredible physical strength, exotic pets, and teaches her friends Tommy and Annika that just because the trio are children, doesn’t mean experiences and desires should be denied them.

“I’m Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Longstocking, daughter of Captain Efraim Longstocking, Pippi for short.” – Pippi

There’s also Whale Rider based on the book by Witi Ihimaera. Pai is a determined young girl who wants to become the chief of her Māori tribe, but that is forbidden because she’s a girl. With wisdom and vision, Pai strives to unite and lead her people into the future. She is dedicated, stubborn and perseveres, showing she has the uncanny spiritual ability to speak with (and ride) whales.

“My name is Paikea Apirana, and I come from a long line of chiefs…I know that our people will keep going forward, all together, with all of our strength.” – Pai

One of my personal favorites is Pan’s Labyrinth (or El Labertino del Fauno meaning “The Labyrinth of the Faun” in Spanish). Interestingly, Pan’s Labyrinth is the first on our list that wasn’t based on a book, as it was written and directed by Guillermo del Toro. The film takes place in post Civil War Spain with young Ofelia as our heroine. She is forced to live with her fascist captain stepfather who hunts down rebels while her mother languishes in a difficult pregnancy. Totally isolated, Ofelia retreats into a dark fantasy world replete with fairies, fauns, and child-eating monsters. In this world (that may or may not truly exist), she is a long-lost immortal underworld princess trying to make her way home. Throughout the tale, Ofelia forms a strong connection with Merecedes, a kitchen maid who is not only secretly a rebel spy, but is brave and crazy badass. Ofelia is intelligent, defiant, loyal, and ultimately self-sacrificing.

“Hello. I am Princess Moanna, and I am not afraid of you.” – Ofelia

All of these stories validate young female agency because all these girls are prepubescent. They are too young and too physically underdeveloped to be objectified or vilified for their sexuality. There are tales that continue to advocate for the empowerment of their slightly older heroines despite their budding sexuality. These are pseudo coming-of-age films. I say “pseudo” here because the main characters don’t actually become sexual beings.

A great contemporary example of a pseudo coming-of-age tale is the action-thriller Hanna, starring the talented Saoirse Ronan as a 14-year-old CIA experiment with enhanced DNA to make her the optimal weapon. She is trained in arctic isolation and is therefore unsocialized and unschooled in the ways of the world. Most of the film centers around her mission to kill Cate Blanchett’s evil CIA agent character, Marissa. However, there is an interlude when Hanna befriends brash young Sophie who is eager to grow up. The two sneak out and go dancing, and a boy kisses Hanna. Our young heroine is at first intrigued and even enraptured by the experience, but she ends up knocking the boy to the ground and nearly breaking his neck. Later, there is also sexual tension between Hanna and Sophie as the two lie next to each other in a tent, falling asleep, but nothing comes of it. These are examples of Hanna’s awakening sexuality, which the film insinuates may ultimately be terrifying in its power and lack of boundaries. Hanna, though, is still young and chooses her father and his indoctrination over her own self-discovery.

“Kissing requires a total of thirty-four facial muscles.” – Hanna

Not to forget Jim Hanson’s classic Labyrinth starring Jennifer Connelly as Sarah, a teenager who is enthralled by the fantasy of the Labyrinth along with its alluring goblin king, Jereth (aka David Bowie in an impressive Tina Turner mullet wig). Sarah withdraws from her family, yearning for adventure and romance while hating her obligation to babysit her “screaming baby” brother, Toby, so she calls on the goblin king to take the boy away. She then spends the rest of the movie trying to get the toddler back. Jareth attempts to seduce her into forgetting the child and being his goblin queen, which is what Sarah initially wanted, but, in the end, she chooses her family and fantastical goblin friends over love, romance, and her sexuality. When she says to her goblin friends, “I need you; I need you all,” she is affirming that she’s not ready for adulthood and wants to remain a child a bit longer. Her intact innocence is what allows her to be uncomplicatedly triumphant, to assert her equality with and independence from Jareth.

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me!” – Sarah

To be empowered, all the aforementioned heroines must remain perpetually young, fixed forever in their prepubescent state within the reels of their films. Once our heroines become sexual teens, their power is overwhelmingly defined by their sexuality, and/or their worth is determined by their body’s objectification. In fact, many of these tales are no longer fantasies, but horror movies (or movies that have horror qualities) that demonize female sexual awakenings.

I don’t even want to disgrace the hallowed web pages of Bitch Flicks with an obvious account of the worthless Twilight series that equates female sexuality with death and advocates teen pregnancy over reproductive rights. However, Bella is a prime example of a young woman whose own self-value is dependent on how the male characters view her. She is the apex of a noxious love triangle, and her desirability defines her, creating the entire basis of the poorly acted, poorly produced saga.

“It’s like diamonds…you’re beautiful.” – Bella re: Edward’s sparkly skin. Gag, Puke, Retch

Ginger Snaps clearly fits the mold of the vilification of budding female sexuality. Ginger gets her period for the first time and is therefore attacked by a werewolf. The attack has rape connotations, implying that Ginger wouldn’t have been as enticing to the wolf if she weren’t yet sexual, especially since her mousy sister Brigitte is spared. Ginger goes through a series of changes, becoming sexually aggressive and promiscuous. When she has unprotected sex with a boy, turning him into a werewolf, this further underscores the connection between Ginger’s monstrous lycanthropy and her unchecked sexuality. There’s also a great deal of sexual tension between Ginger and her sister, Brigitte, suggesting that her sexuality is boundless and therefore frightening.

“I get this ache…and I, I thought it was for sex, but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces.” – Ginger

Lastly, we have the pseudo-feminist film Teeth about a young girl who grows teeth on her vagina (vagina dentata style). Our teenage heroine, Dawn, is in one of those Christian abstinence/purity clubs, and everything is fine until she becomes attracted to and makes out with a boy. The film punishes her for her newfound sexuality and mocks her abstinence vow by having the boy rape her. Dawn’s vagina then bites off his penis. Over the course of the movie, Dawn is essentially sexually assaulted four times. Four times. She is degraded from the beginning of the film to the very end. Her supposedly empowerful teeth-laden vagina is a dubious gift, considering she generally must be raped in order to use it. Instead of focusing on the power of her sexuality and the awesome choice she has of whether or not to wield it, the film victimizes her at every corner, undercutting her potential strength and sexual agency.

“The way [the ring] wraps around your finger, that’s to remind you to keep your gift wrapped until the day you trade it in for that other ring. That gold ring.” – Dawn

Basically, Brave isn’t really that brave of a film. It’s traipsing through a well-established trope that, though positive, is stagnant. Don’t get me wrong; I love all the prepubescent female power fantasy tales I’ve listed, and I’m grateful that they exist and that I could grow up with many of them. However, we can’t pretend that Brave is pushing any boundaries. It sends the message that little girls can be powerful as long as they remain little girls. The dearth of representations of postpubescent heroines who are not objectified, whose sexuality does not rule their interactions, and who are the heroes of their own stories is appalling. There may be exceptions, but my brain has a fairly to moderately comprehensive catalog of films, especially those starring strong female characters. Scanning…scanning…file not found. If I, who actively seek out films that use integrity in their depictions of kickass women, can’t think of many, how is the casual viewer to find them? How is the teenage girl coming into her sexuality while facing negativity and recriminations supposed to see herself portrayed in a light that gives her the opportunity to be nuanced, to be smart and brave, to be independent or to be a leader?

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Women in Science Fiction Week: WALL-E

WALL-E (2008)

This post written by Editor and Co-Founder Amber Leab was originally published at Bitch Flicks on April 13, 2009.

While the beginning of WALL-E is a lovely silent film (and would’ve been a fantastic short film), when you brush away the artifice and the adorable little robots, all you have is standard Disney fare: a male protagonist and a female helper, told from his perspective. Why the robots are gendered at all isn’t clear; the movie could’ve been about their friendship–and far more progressive than the heteronormative romance that ensues.

WALL-E “dating” EVE

EVE is sleek and lovely, and is physically able to do things WALL-E cannot, but she’s part of an army of task-oriented robots. The mere push of a button shuts her down, and she lacks the self-protectionist drive that WALL-E exhibits when his power reserve drains. He is, of course, beholden to no one since the humans left Earth; he is autonomous and self-sufficient. EVE, on the other hand, is fully robotic: she’s a badass, complete with gun, and she’s more intelligent and cunning than WALL-E, but she’s been programmed to be that way. She’s an advanced form of technology, but she needs WALL-E to liberate her.

WALL-E, it seems, has developed human qualities on his own. He is also capable of keeping up with a robot approximately 700 years newer (read: younger) than he is–an impressive age gap in any relationship. EVE worries over WALL-E and caters to his physical limitations (he is, after all, an old man–with childlike curiosity), acting as nursemaid in addition to all-around badass. Who says we can’t be everything, ladies? While EVE doesn’t have any of the conventional trappings of femininity, she’s a lovely modern contraption with clean lines, while WALL-E is clunky, schlubby, and falling apart (not to mention he’s a clean rip-off of Short Circuit‘s Johnny 5)–reinforcing the (male) appreciation of a certain kind of female aesthetic, while reminding girls that they should look good and not worry too much about the appearance of their male love-interest.

More contrary opinions about WALL-E–including the troubling way it portrays obesity–on:

If you know of some other good discussions on the film, leave your links in the comments.

Will ‘Brave’s Warrior Princess Merida Usher In a New Kind of Role Model for Girls?

Brave‘s Merida (Kelly MacDonald) via Disney Pixar

Originally published at Fem2pt0.

I loved Brave.

I literally did a happy dance the moment I heard Pixar would feature a female-centric film. Out of their 13 movies, Brave marks their first female protagonist. Pretty shameful. But hey, they finally got their act together and created a kick-ass heroine. But will Merida spark a new kind of role model?

Merida (Kelly MacDonald) is a feisty Scottish highland princess. Her mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson – is there nothing she can’t do??), wants her to be poised, articulate, and reserved – a proper princess. Merida wants none of that. A fierce archer, echoing Hunger Games’ Katniss Everdeen, she would rather ride horseback and explore. Her mother wants her to obey the rules and follow tradition. Merida wants the freedom to create her own destiny.

When we see a female lead, they’re usually the only girl or woman, surrounded by dudes as friends or love interests. We rarely see women working together in films, particularly children’s films. Yes, Queen Elinor wants Merida to get betrothed in an arranged marriage. But Merida defiantly rebels against this tradition. There’s no love interest. No romance. No winning the affection of a man. Instead, Merida competes for her own hand in marriage.

Passing the Bechdel Test, Brave captures the loving yet sometimes contentious relationship between mothers and daughters. Director Brenda Chapman was inspired to create the story by her own relationship with her daughter. Often in children’s films, the mother is absent or dead. As if the daughter just sprang from her father the way Athena emerged from Zeus. Now I’m all for single parents. I was raised by a single mom. But it’s disturbing we don’t see mothers. Queen Elinor was never villainized. Both Merida and her mother just want to be heard.

Merida (Kelly MacDonald) and her mother Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson)

Something else unusual — something that shouldn’t be strange – you see Merida eat apples. Now, women and girls obviously eat. But you don’t normally witness female characters eating. Due to the media’s policing of female bodies, women and girls have an antagonistic relationship to food. Granted, Merida is still thin. But at least she’s athletic…and eating.

Chapman said she “wanted to give girls something to look at and not feel inadequate.” We’re told as girls and women we’re not pretty enough. We must lose weight or gain weight. We constantly have to control our bodies and ultimately ourselves.

Hair showcases the women’s identities. Merida’s unruly but gorgeous crimson hair symbolizes her rebellious spirit. When her mother dresses her to meet her suitors, she shoves Merida’s hair under a cap. While Merida struggles to loosen at least one curl. Merida doesn’t want to be groomed, perfect or pretty. She wants to be free like her curls. Merida also rips the seams of her confining dress in order to shoot her bow, symbolically breaking free from constrictions and defying tradition. Originally, Queen Elinor’s hair was groomed in thick braids. By the end of the film, her hair flows free and she’s riding a horse with Merida, symbolizing the loss of her rigidity.

Is Brave reducing women and girls to their physical appearances? No, I don’t think so. Instead, by utilizing visual cues (although sometimes the symbolism is a little too on the nose), I think Brave showcases the constraints of gender norms and patriarchy. And more importantly, how we need to break free. Being true to yourself, voicing your opinion and going after your dreams – these are the messages little girls (and boys) need to hear more often.

Is Brave perfect? No. It devolves into a lot of slapstick humor, not really my thing. But the legions of kids attending the 10pm Saturday night showing (really? Isn’t it past their bedtime?) emitted fits of giggles. I also wasn’t thrilled with the gender stereotypes. I appreciated King Fergus (Billy Connolly) and Queen Elinor’s marriage dodged chauvinism and was fairly egalitarian. But men fight and behave buffoonish while women are supposed to be reserved and docile. Both were leaders – the King in battle, the Queen respected in negotiations – but in their gendered spheres. But perhaps that’s the point. It conveys the tradition of patriarchy and how we need to shatter these gender tropes.

But my biggest problem? Brave is still a fairy tale and Merida is still a princess. Are we ever going to get away from princesses? Ever??

Why must we still package female characters for girls in this princess box? Princess culture has saturated – no, make that dominated – our society. Little girls are obsessed with princesses, tiaras, girlie-girl hues of pink and ball gowns.

In her fantastic book Cinderella Ate My Daughter, Peggy Orenstein dissects princess culture and its insidious message of hyperfemininity, sexualization of girls, rescue fantasies and obsession with finding Prince Charming. While princesses don’t necessarily lead to passive girls, they cause girls to feel – not that they can have it all – but that they must be everything to everyone. It’s this pressure of perfection which weakens their self-esteem.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with little girls wanting to look pretty and wear fun clothes. And of course everyone wants to feel special. But it’s problematic princesses are the only role models little girls see in media. Princess culture ultimately objectifies girls, telling them their self-worth lies in their beauty and ability to snag a man.

It’s a huge problem Pixar’s first female protagonist must still be a princess. Don’t get me wrong. Merida is a badass warrior princess who’s defiant, caring, brave and smart. And that’s awesome. But we need to eventually diverge from this princess paradigm and showcase more diversity in female characters.

In her groundbreaking book Enlightened Sexism, Susan J. Douglas deconstructs warrior women in media. They appeal to many of us because they offer a strong female narrative with powerful, intelligent, assertive women. They challenge patriarchy. But Douglas argues that while they transgress gender roles, they simultaneously conform. Yes, they kick ass. But they must look thin, feminine and sexy while doing it.

With the rise of the warrior princess, a fusion of two female archetypes, I hope Brave bridges the old princess movies with a new narrative for girls. Thankfully, Merida herself challenges the princess label and notion of perfection. She’s outspoken, independent and opinionated. We see Merida make mistakes and figure out solutions herself. While she gets help, no one rescues her. Merida doesn’t want to be told how to look, who to marry, or how to behave. She wants to make her own choices. But I worry Hollywood will simply reinforce and perpetuate the princess paradigm, leading to female protagonists who appear empowered but aren’t really.

Brave is absolutely wonderful. Touching and sweet, it brought me to tears, my personal barometer for a great film. And it’s a huge step in the right direction.

A film that reads as a condemnation of patriarchy, I hope Merida leads to different kind of heroine; a truly empowered one. We need to see intelligent and emotionally strong female characters. Who possess career goals and go after their dreams. Who aren’t objectified and whose lives don’t revolve around finding a man.

Now if only girls (and boys) could see more female characters on-screen who shed the princess persona.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Going Broke Chasing Boys: Why Disney Ditched Princesses and Spent $300 Million on ‘John Carter’

This is a guest post from Scott Mendelson. Originally published at Mendelson’s Memos.

If you’ve seen the trailer for the upcoming John Carter, you know that not only does it not look like it cost $300 million, but it so painfully feels like a Mad Libs male-driven fantasy blockbuster that it borders on parody. It’s no secret that Disney thinks it has a boy problem. One of the reasons it bought Marvel two years ago was to build up a slate of boy-friendly franchises. And the last two years have seen an almost embarrassing attempt to fashion boy-friendly franchises (Prince of Persia, Tron: Legacy, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, I Am Number Four, Fright Night, and Real Steel), only half of which were even as successful as their alleged flop The Princess and the Frog (which obviously grossed ‘just’ $267 million on a $105 million budget because it starred a character with a vagina). We can only ponder the reasons why Disney decided to outright state that they were never going to make another fairy-tale princess cartoon again, even after Tangled became their most successful non-Pixar toon since The Lion King, but I’m pretty sure Disney won’t be making such statements about boy-centric fantasy franchises anytime soon.

Now we have John Carter, which allegedly cost $300 million (if not more). It’s being released in March, where only one film (to be fair, Disney’s Alice In Wonderland) has ever even grossed $300 million. Hell, in all of January-through April, there have been just five $200 million grossers (The Passion of the Christ, Alice In Wonderland, How to Train Your Dragon, 300, and Fast Five). So you have yet another film that basically has to shatter all records regarding its release date in order to merely break even. But that’s okay, thinks Disney, because John Carter is a manly science fiction spectacle so it is surely worth risking the bank. Disney is so desperate to not only chase the young male demos that is willing to risk alienating the young female demos that has netted it billions of dollars over the many decades. What they fail to realize is that the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise (especially the first three films) was rooted in telling a story that crossed gender lines. All-told, the original trilogy actually revolved around Keira Knightley’s character, and her journey from daughter of privilege to outlaw pirate. I Am Number Four is a perfect example of this clear misunderstanding. Disney and Dreamworks decided to cash in on Twilight by making a variation told from the point of view of the super-powered teen boy, a story which turned the ‘Bella’ character into just another stock love interest to be sidelined for the third act.

If you look at Disney’s future slate, with the arguable exception of Pixar’s Brave (the first Pixar film to feature a girl, a warrior princess no less), they have almost no female-driven movies between now and 2014. Oh wait, I’m sorry…they ARE releasing Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid in 3D over the next two years. My mistake. I may complain about the frenzy of upcoming live-action fairy tale adaptations, but at least those are big-budget movies centering around a female protagonist. It would seem that Disney, as a corporation, genuinely places less value on the female audience than the male audience. Money is money, and sweaty bills from girls should be just as green as bills from boys. Yet Disney apparently so disdains its core audience (young girls) that it not only has stopped chasing them (in the knowledge that they will buy princess merchandise anyway) but has risked untold millions on the most generic possible new franchise, with no star power and little to distinguish itself from a hundred other such films, purely because ‘it’s a boy movie’. In a way, Disney has become just like the Democratic Party, risking alienation of their base because they know that the young girls (and their parents) won’t really ever jump ship.

Scott Mendelson is, by hobby, a freelance film critic/pundit who specializes in box office analysis. He blogs primarily at Mendelson’s Memos while syndicating at The Huffington Post and Valley Scene Magazine. He lives in Woodland Hills, CA with his wife and two young kids where he works in a field totally unrelated to his BA in Film Theory/Criticism from Wright State University.

Top 10 in 2011: An Open Letter to Pixar

Here it is, finally: the top viewed post of 2011. This open letter, by T. Bookstein, appeared as part of our popular Animated Children’s Film Series. Although Pixar has now created its first female-fronted animated film (Brave), there are still demands that resonate with a lot of us.

_________

November 2011

Berkeley, CA

An Open Letter to Pixar

Dear Pixar Creative Team:

I adore your films. Want proof? My car is named Dory. I have Boundin’ posters hanging in my house. My partner and I mentioned both a jackalope and a delay fish in our wedding vows. We are fans.

I know that you are aware that last year, Toy Story 3 received criticism for a few lines and moments that seem sexist and homophobic. What you may not know is how to fix this situation, or why you should bother.

Let me briefly offer you answers to both of those questions:

1) How to fix this: I want you to hire a consultant to read your scripts and look at your storyboards. More on that later.

2) Why you should bother:

Here’s the thing. Your movies are funny, warm, moving, lively, and brilliant. And yet every so often, they contain a throwaway joke – something that doesn’t forward the plot, something that you don’t need! – that hurts kids.

Let me repeat. You are putting in jokes that aren’t necessary for the scripts, that no one will miss, and that hurt kids.

Click here to read the full post.

Animated Children’s Films: Up

This guest review from Travis Eisenbise first appeared at Bitch Flicks in March 2010.

If Pixar shit into a bucket, it would still be box office gold. Fifteen years ago Pixar catapulted itself into a movie-making monopoly with Toy Story. Since then they’ve continued to rehash the same predictable (and often adorable) story lines about the secret lives of bugs, monsters, cars, rats, and superheroes. They are the main reason movie theatre parking lots continue to fill up with dented minivans and half-crushed McDonald’s milkshake containers. But still, no matter how annoyingly formulaic their stories are, I am a sucker for them. Confession: I was in line to see Up before many ten-year-olds in my neighborhood and am not ashamed to say that I cut right in the middle of a group of 15 kids to make sure I got better seats than they did. I have also been known to hush children during Pixar films. I’m that guy.

Up came in the aftermath of Wall-E (last year’s Oscar winner for Best Animated film), though Up takes a decidedly safer route. At Pixar, like most movie houses, there are A and B movies. The A movies at Pixar are written and directed by Andrew Stanton (Wall-E, Finding Nemo, Toy Story) and Brad Bird (Ratatouille, The Incredibles). Up is a B movie (only produced by Stanton and Bird), and pulls out many Pixar tricks to throw something together in time for a summer release date (Pixar Trick #1: Summer release date).

Up tells the story of widower, Carl Fredricksen (voiced by Ed Asner). The movie begins with Carl as child, donning explorer goggles, and ogling over a film about his explorer idol, Charles Muntz (voiced by Christopher Plummer). Muntz, the captain of The Spirit of Adventure (PT #2: Name everything with vague, idyllic names), claims he’s found a new beast in a far-off part of South America. When scientists debunk Muntz’s discovery as a fabrication, Muntz floats off back into the wild to prove the scientific community wrong. Carl, still a boy, travels home from the theatre and is stopped by Ellie, a young, rambunctious child with, let’s face it, WAY cooler explorer garb than Carl. She inducts him into her own explorer club and within a 5-minute musical montage they are married, live their life together, save money for a future trip they never take, and lose a child. (PT #3: Emotional montage where characters gaze at each other instead of speak.) Ultimately Ellie dies, leaving Carl alone and curmudgeonly.

Insert Pixar dilemma: Pixar has a girl problem. I don’t want to dwell too much on this, as the blogosphere has already run Pixar through the dirt (as it should). Noted in Linda Holmes’ blog on NPR, after 15 years of movie making, Pixar has yet to create a story with a female lead. Ellie is the only female voice in this entire movie and she is dead and gone within the first ten minutes. She’s not even allowed an actual voice as an adult. (see PT: #3). The entire story is told by a male octogenarian and a boy, Russell (voiced by Jordan Nagai), who is seventy years Carl’s junior, and who—instead of being a real-world boy scout—is a Wilderness Explorer (see PT: #2). It is devastating to watch this movie in a theatre of mothers and young girls who are forced to stretch their own experiences into the identities of these stock male characters. (PT #4: Employ an inordinate amount of male writers.)

There is a mother bird character that is quirky and loves chocolate, flitters around on the screen as the comic relief, and who, as the film progresses, becomes the desire of Muntz in order to prove to the scientific community that he’s not crazy. But even this bird’s identity is wrapped up in her overly compelling (sarcasm) storyline to return to her bird babies. When she is returned, the world apparently rights itself on its axis and all sense of justice is restored. (PT #5 – Everything in Pixarland turns out alright in the end.) But enough is enough. Fifteen years with no female leads is an embarrassment. I’m sure all the male writers at Pixar (see PT #4) might have noticed what a shame it was had they not been so busy shooting their wads into each others’ over-inflated male-dominated story lines.

Enough about wad-shooting; here’s a quick summary. When Carl faces eviction from encroaching developers, instead of being taken to Shady Oaks retirement home, he fills his house with thousands of balloons and (much like Australia’s Danny Deckchair) takes to the sky. (PT #6 – Shiny, colorful screenshots make the best advertisements.) While in the air, Carl realizes that Russell is with him. The goal is to get the house to Paradise Falls (see PT #2), so that Carl can fulfill a life-long promise he had with his dead (mute) wife, Ellie. They land on the wrong side of the falls and spend much of the movie carrying the house (PT #7: Every character has some burden they have to overcome.) to the opposite side of the rocky crag. They encounter talking dogs (PT #8: Every animal can talk.) that use them to catch the mother-beast-bird thing. Chaos ensues, dreams are crushed, lives are rebuilt (see PT #7), and Muntz falls off the dirigible to his death. (PT #9: Kill off the bad guy.)

Up is a kid’s movie, but because we live in a world where movie writing/directing are 99.9999999% dominated by men, Up is set in a man’s world. It’s a boy’s story, for boys, about boys, where mute girls die off early. But for all the times I cringed at Up’s blatant disregard for women, I will say that I practically drooled on myself because the movie was so damned visually stunning. (see PT #6). When those balloons come out of Carl’s chimney and his house begins to lift off the ground, I think it doesn’t matter who is in the movie theatre, everyone’s mouth is open and everyone is ready for the ride. Pixar has a pulse on what makes a good movie, and they are artistically capable of pulling it off, but they rely on storylines that readily neglect female roles. (PT#10: No female leads.) As far as I’m concerned, they can toss that trick in the trash.

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Travis Eisenbise works at a non-profit environmental organization in New York City. His fiction and non-fiction have appeared in (super small) journals, so it’s okay that you’ve never heard of him. He lives in Brooklyn with his partner who likes to make bread in a bread robot.