Tag: Pregnancy

‘Inside’: French Pregnant Body Horror At Its Finest


Guest post written by Deirdre Crimmins for our theme week on Infertility, Miscarriage, and Infant Loss.

Content note: Discussion of violence directed at women and violent images ahead. Spoiler alert.

Horror films have a unique way of showcasing exactly what we fear, but they often do so in a subtle way. While is it goes without saying that ax-wielding maniacs are to be feared, these films often slyly expose the issues that our society is too shy to deal with head on. In the 2007 French horror film Inside (directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury), fertility, reproduction, and infant loss are dealt with in a refreshingly direct and uncompromisingly bloody outcome, with no room for subtlety.
The film takes place during the course of Sarah’s last night alone before having her child’s delivery induced the next morning. Sarah (Alysson Paradis) lost her husband in a terrible car accident just a few weeks earlier. The crash is shown multiple times through the film, which illustrates the haunting presence of the loss in every moment of her day-to-day life. We see the crash from the perspective of her child in utero as well, which also frames this unborn child as a character in the film.
With the circumstances of Sarah’s pregnancy she is denied the typical rituals of birthing. She has no partner to help her pick out the child’s name. The birth date is decided by her doctor in a cold and clinical office, removing the excitement and surprise of delivery. Rather than spending the night before the birth readying the nursery and enjoying their last night together as a childless couple, Sarah is all alone.
That is, Sarah is alone until she is stalked by a mysterious stranger who appears at her door. The stranger is a woman (played by Béatrice Dalle) dressed all in black who tries everything she can to get Sarah to open the door. After an initial creepy stand-off, the woman forces her way in to the home, and the horror begins. This nameless woman wants Sarah’s child, and she is not waiting around for the birth.
The next hour of the film is a bloody cat and mouse chase between Sarah and this woman. The film is smart, and incredibly gory. Neither of these women hold back on violent acts to get, or keep, what they want.

Sarah

To begin to examine a horror film, there are several questions that can aid in the dissection of its purpose. When looking at Inside it can be helpful to pose this question: Where is the horror? By looking at the source of horror in the film, we can better understand what we are to fear.

Clearly the first level of horror in Inside is in the intruder. Her bloodlust for Sarah’s unborn child drives her violence. Initially, it is this desire for the child that is problematic. We find out later in the film that not only was this woman pregnant recently, but that she lost her child in the same car accident that killed Sarah’s husband. This unveiling in the plot is what shows the complicated relationship that Inside has with infant loss.
With this we see that another dimension of the horror in the film lies in the intruder’s loss of her pregnancy. She was nearly full term, and we see the car accident from inside her womb. The well-developed, though unborn, child is distressed by the jolt the crash delivered, and reacts as the amniotic fluid clouds up with blood. One can only imagine the pain suffered by the loss of a pregnancy at this stage, however the emotional havoc she sustains cannot justify her attack on Sarah, can it? Sarah was driving the car, after all. Is it too much of a stretch to demand from Sarah what Sarah took from her? It obviously is too much to ask, however the logical leap is not a far one to make.
Outside of the blame for the lost child lies a classic example of body horror. Films that contain plenty of gore are often, though not exclusively, “body horror” films. Here it is the body itself that is the source of the horror. The pain, blood, dismemberment, and other organic fluids in the film are definite sources of horror in Inside. The fact that the intruder is treating Sarah like merely a vessel that holds a child, and treats Sarah’s body with so little respect that this is clear, is horrific. Sarah is chased, tortured, and ultimately given a non-consensual cesarean, all to the horror of the audience. This treatment of Sarah and the fact that her body, and in particular her pregnant body, is the source of much of the horror in the film, that makes this a body horror film.
Despite the horror of two women battling one another for an unborn child, the film is quite feminist. Both of these women are smart (deranged and depressed respectively, but both make choices to further their own agendas in constructive ways). Sarah does have men who show up to attempt to rescue her, but with each effort these rescuers are outsmarted and brutally killed by the woman in black. Also, neither Sarah nor the intruder are ever shown as weak due to their womanhood. Both are shown as strong, self-sufficient people who just so happen to disagree over who should get to keep Sarah’s child.
Woman in Black

Though Inside deals with the horrors of the body, and the emotional response to losing a child, it does not treat pregnancy with romanticism or nostalgia. Sarah and the intruder are treated as believable characters that are each reacting to the extreme situations that they have found themselves in. It is this even-handed treatment of pregnant women as still functioning members of society, and not dainty figurines that have no autonomy, which makes the film a horror that you can empathize with. By putting well rounded, relatable characters in (hopefully) unrelatable situations you can just sit back and watch the blood flow.

Deirdre Crimmins lives in Boston with her husband and two black cats. She wrote her Master’s thesis on George Romero and works too much.

Call for Writers: Infertility, Miscarriage and Infant Loss in Film & Television Week

When we talk about motherhood and pregnancy in film and television, images of nurseries, strollers and rosy-cheeked cherubic newborns just might spring to mind. We may not think of the devastation of infertility, miscarriage or infant loss. Yet many people struggle with these hardships on their path to parenthood. 

It’s not that the media doesn’t depict infertility. They do. But too often laden with tropes such as the “Convenient Miscarriage” (so as not to have to depict the supposed controversy of abortion) or the “Law of Inverse Fertility” (that a couple’s fertility is relative to how badly they want a child). Infertility should be incorporated into films and television because it’s a painful reality many women face, not merely as a plot device or punishment or perpetuation of gender stereotypes. In our fertility obsessed culture, tabloids frequently report on female celebs’ baby bumps, reinforcing the notion that a woman’s worth is linked to her fertility. Society seems to view infertility and miscarriage as private and taboo. But the media should portray the full spectrum of reproductive choices and experiences.

So for our next theme week, we’re looking for analyses of Infertility, Miscarriage and Infant Loss in Film and Television. For more, check out:

What Really Happens After a Miscarriage via XO Jane

Inconceivable: Black Infertility via Crunk Feminist Collective

TV Parents and the Problem of Infertility via Acculturated

Here are some suggestions of films and TV series — but feel free to propose your own ideas!

Downton Abbey
Juno
Sex and the City
Baby Mama
Friends
Mother and Child
The Time Traveler’s Wife
Grey’s Anatomy
Prometheus
Children of Men
Gone with the Wind
Diary of a Mad Black Woman
The Other Woman
Mad Men
Julie & Julia
Secrets and Lies
Raising Arizona
The Help
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marley & Me
Country Strong
For Colored Girls
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
Desperate Housewives
All in the Family
Orphan
Marley & Me
21 Grams
House, M.D.
The Tudors
Six Feet Under
The Handmaid’s Tale
American Horror Story
Brothers & Sisters
Away We Go 
Boardwalk Empire
The Odd Life of Timothy Green
Out of Africa
Up
Rabbit Hole

Here are some basic guidelines for guest writers:
–Pieces should be between 700 and 2,000 words.
–Include images (with captions) and links in your piece, along with a title for your article.
–Send your piece in the text of an email, attaching all images, no later than Friday, April 19th.
–Include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece.

Email us at btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com if you’d like to contribute a review. We accept original pieces or cross-posts. 
We look forward to reading your submissions!

"Pregnancy Brain" in Sitcoms

Alyson Hannigan as Lily Aldrin in “How I Met Your Mother”
Pregnancy brain. Momnesia. Preggo ladies be cray-cray. Call it what you want, but the idea that pregnant women lose their minds while their hormones go whack is a popular stereotype based on questionable evidence. Some mothers recall feeling forgetful during their pregnancy, while others don’t. (Wow, you’d think different women have different experiences with pregnancy, or something.)
Regardless of how true pregnancy brain is or isn’t, or how different women react to the changes in their bodies, sitcom writers have taken this idea and run with it. Last year, Lily Aldrin experienced an episode’s worth of pregnancy brain on How I Met Your Mother, and this year, Gloria Delgado-Pritchett struggled with her own pregnancy brain problems on Modern Family. The setups were similar: the women had short-term memory problems as a result of their pregnancy hormones. The results, however, were a little different.
On How I Met Your Mother, the characters first notice something different about Lily when she agreed to move to the suburbs, after years of insisting that she would never move to the suburbs and wanted to stay in New York. Marshall, suburban-born and raised, is thrilled that Lily has changed her mind, but Robin warns him that Lily only wants to move because of pregnancy brain. Marshall doubts that pregnancy brain is even a “thing,” and Robin insists that it is: “Her brain is marinating in a cocktail of hormones, mood swings, and jacked-up nesting instincts.” Then Marshall and Robin recall a few incidents of Lily acting strangely: putting her keys and wallet in the freezer and ice cubes in her purse, texting Robin to ask for directions back from the bathroom, and saying “fungus” instead of “fetus” and “metal factory” instead of “mental faculty.” Robin cautions Marshall against letting Lily make any major life choices while pregnant.
This is all just in the first five minutes of the episode, by the way. The point is clear: Lily, while pregnant, is completely incapable of making any decisions for herself and has a more impaired short-term memory than Dory from Finding Nemo. Robin doesn’t think “that moron” can do anything. (Sidebar: why is Robin “I never want kids and have no interest in ever being pregnant” Scherbatsky suddenly an expert in pregnancy brain, anyway?)
Fortunately, Lily has a man by her side! (Hannigan and Jason Segel)
A year later on Modern Family, Gloria experiences similar symptoms of pregnesia, at a much later stage at her pregnancy than Lily’s. She puts soap in the fridge and butter in the shower. Jay calls his daughter Claire to “babysit the stupid pregnant lady” (Gloria’s words), but he claims that Gloria called Claire and forgot, and she initially believes him. She drives with Claire to Costco and laments over her pregnesia: “I have two brains in my body and I’ve never been so dumb.” Claire tells her not to be too hard on herself: “You have another human being growing inside of you competing for resources.” Claire herself struggled with forgetfulness when pregnant with her daughter Alex (but not so much with her daughter Haley or son Luke). The women exchange a nice moment until Gloria tries to get out of a moving car.
The setup here is slightly different: Gloria is forgetful and scattered, but self-aware enough to know when people are pandering to her. Still, she’s not at her best.
Back on How I Met Your Mother, the plot continues with Lily acting even more ridiculous. She tries to make waffles using a laptop, and Marshall takes advantage of her lapse in judgment by convincing her to buy things for the apartment that she doesn’t really want. Soon, though, she turns the tables on him. She tricks him into thinking that she called a broker to sell her grandparents’ house in the suburbs. Instead, she’s led him to the suburbs on Halloween so they can hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. She’s trying to manipulate him with cute children to convince him to move to the suburbs. It looks like the silly pregnant lady has more “metal factories” than meets the eye.
Meanwhile, on Modern Family, Claire and Gloria go shopping at Costco. Claire has to run to a different part of the store to find a sweater to wear, because Gloria’s been standing in the frozen food aisle for half an hour and can’t remember what she wanted to buy. When the two women finally go to the parking lot after their shop, Gloria accidentally almost closes the door of the minivan on Claire’s head – after all that time, she forgot the eggs. Claire lectures Gloria: “You are purposely turning your brain off!” Then Claire is interrupted by a store’s security guard: she forgot to return the sweater she wore while Gloria stood in the frozen food aisle, and accidentally stole the sweater. Claire tries to plead her case, but the security guard takes her back inside the building.
Sofia Vergara as Gloria Delgado-Pritchett on “Modern Family”
In the third act of the Marshall/Lily plot on HIMYM, Lily has convinced Marshall to move to the suburbs. Then a few trick-or-treaters come to her door, and she hands them a stapler, scissors, and a bottle of pinot noir. She doesn’t realize what she’s done until Marshall points it out to her, and then she cries because she’s going to miss the stapler. Lily admits that she can’t make any big decisions right now, at least not until she’s done being affected by hormones.
On Modern Family, Claire argues with an overly vigilant store detective. Gloria stands, panicked, and announces that her water broke. Claire and the store detective rush her to the car. As Claire drives, Gloria reveals that she dumped a water bottle on the floor and pretended to go into labor in order to help Claire: “I couldn’t sit there and watch you suffer just because you turned your brain off.” Claire apologizes for pandering to Gloria and doubting her abilities.
Two sitcom episodes, less than a year apart from each other, both dealing with forgetful pregnant women who don’t know how to manage their lives without help, but the message of each episode is very different. The How I Met Your Mother episode is sexist and cliched, while the Modern Family episode attempts to treat the pregnant character with humanity, and mostly succeeds.
Look at the way the other characters talk about Lily and Gloria. Lily is “marinating in a cocktail of hormones,” a “moron,” and acting like the “drunk girl at the bar” – descriptors that would be perfect for a pregnant character on a darker or more satirical comedy, but seem out of place and mean-spirited on a feel-good show like How I Met Your Mother. Claire, on the other hand, initially sympathizes with Gloria, pointing out that pregnancy is draining and of course her memory would be on the fritz.
Lily is also treated like an infant during this pregnancy. She’s not just forgetful – she can’t make any major decisions while these hormones are affecting her brain. SHE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED. Gloria, meanwhile, is forgetful and scattered, but she hasn’t completely lost her mind, and cleverly saves Claire from the repercussions of her own brain fart.

 

More similar than you might think (Vergara and Julie Bowen)
But I think the biggest reason that the Modern Family storyline mostly succeeds and the How I Met Your Mother episode doesn’t is because the first show remembers to show the female perspective on a woman’s issue (imagine that). The episode of How I Met Your Mother isn’t about how Lily deals with pregnancy brain; it’s about how Marshall deals with Lily’s pregnancy brain. Let’s empathize with the poor, long-suffering husband while he deals with the changes in his wife’s body (yawn). Modern Family at least shows us pregnancy-related forgetfulness from the perspective of the female characters. I liked seeing two women bond over their different pregnancies, and I especially liked that Claire didn’t have the exact same experience with every pregnancy.
I don’t know if pregnancy brain is a real thing or not. I’m skeptical, but I’ve had at least two currently pregnant or formerly pregnant friends tell me that they were constantly forgetful during their pregnancies. My impression is that it’s true for some women and not true for others. Both shows exaggerate the concept for for comic effect, but How I Met Your Mother reduces the pregnant woman to an infant and Modern Family remembers that Gloria is still an adult. I know which episode I prefer.
Final thought: if walking into a room with a specific purpose, and then immediately forgetting said purpose for being in that room, is a sign of pregnancy brain, I have been pregnant for the last twenty-eight years. I do this at least twice a day. Maybe pregnant women and scatterbrained artist-writer types are cut from the same cloth.
Lady T is an aspiring writer and comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

"Pregnancy Brain" in Sitcoms

Alyson Hannigan as Lily Aldrin in “How I Met Your Mother”
Pregnancy brain. Momnesia. Preggo ladies be cray-cray. Call it what you want, but the idea that pregnant women lose their minds while their hormones go whack is a popular stereotype based on questionable evidence. Some mothers recall feeling forgetful during their pregnancy, while others don’t. (Wow, you’d think different women have different experiences with pregnancy, or something.)
Regardless of how true pregnancy brain is or isn’t, or how different women react to the changes in their bodies, sitcom writers have taken this idea and run with it. Last year, Lily Aldrin experienced an episode’s worth of pregnancy brain on How I Met Your Mother, and this year, Gloria Delgado-Pritchett struggled with her own pregnancy brain problems on Modern Family. The setups were similar: the women had short-term memory problems as a result of their pregnancy hormones. The results, however, were a little different.
On How I Met Your Mother, the characters first notice something different about Lily when she agreed to move to the suburbs, after years of insisting that she would never move to the suburbs and wanted to stay in New York. Marshall, suburban-born and raised, is thrilled that Lily has changed her mind, but Robin warns him that Lily only wants to move because of pregnancy brain. Marshall doubts that pregnancy brain is even a “thing,” and Robin insists that it is: “Her brain is marinating in a cocktail of hormones, mood swings, and jacked-up nesting instincts.” Then Marshall and Robin recall a few incidents of Lily acting strangely: putting her keys and wallet in the freezer and ice cubes in her purse, texting Robin to ask for directions back from the bathroom, and saying “fungus” instead of “fetus” and “metal factory” instead of “mental faculty.” Robin cautions Marshall against letting Lily make any major life choices while pregnant.
This is all just in the first five minutes of the episode, by the way. The point is clear: Lily, while pregnant, is completely incapable of making any decisions for herself and has a more impaired short-term memory than Dory from Finding Nemo. Robin doesn’t think “that moron” can do anything. (Sidebar: why is Robin “I never want kids and have no interest in ever being pregnant” Scherbatsky suddenly an expert in pregnancy brain, anyway?)
Fortunately, Lily has a man by her side! (Hannigan and Jason Segel)
A year later on Modern Family, Gloria experiences similar symptoms of pregnesia, at a much later stage at her pregnancy than Lily’s. She puts soap in the fridge and butter in the shower. Jay calls his daughter Claire to “babysit the stupid pregnant lady” (Gloria’s words), but he claims that Gloria called Claire and forgot, and she initially believes him. She drives with Claire to Costco and laments over her pregnesia: “I have two brains in my body and I’ve never been so dumb.” Claire tells her not to be too hard on herself: “You have another human being growing inside of you competing for resources.” Claire herself struggled with forgetfulness when pregnant with her daughter Alex (but not so much with her daughter Haley or son Luke). The women exchange a nice moment until Gloria tries to get out of a moving car.
The setup here is slightly different: Gloria is forgetful and scattered, but self-aware enough to know when people are pandering to her. Still, she’s not at her best.
Back on How I Met Your Mother, the plot continues with Lily acting even more ridiculous. She tries to make waffles using a laptop, and Marshall takes advantage of her lapse in judgment by convincing her to buy things for the apartment that she doesn’t really want. Soon, though, she turns the tables on him. She tricks him into thinking that she called a broker to sell her grandparents’ house in the suburbs. Instead, she’s led him to the suburbs on Halloween so they can hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. She’s trying to manipulate him with cute children to convince him to move to the suburbs. It looks like the silly pregnant lady has more “metal factories” than meets the eye.
Meanwhile, on Modern Family, Claire and Gloria go shopping at Costco. Claire has to run to a different part of the store to find a sweater to wear, because Gloria’s been standing in the frozen food aisle for half an hour and can’t remember what she wanted to buy. When the two women finally go to the parking lot after their shop, Gloria accidentally almost closes the door of the minivan on Claire’s head – after all that time, she forgot the eggs. Claire lectures Gloria: “You are purposely turning your brain off!” Then Claire is interrupted by a store’s security guard: she forgot to return the sweater she wore while Gloria stood in the frozen food aisle, and accidentally stole the sweater. Claire tries to plead her case, but the security guard takes her back inside the building.
Sofia Vergara as Gloria Delgado-Pritchett on “Modern Family”
In the third act of the Marshall/Lily plot on HIMYM, Lily has convinced Marshall to move to the suburbs. Then a few trick-or-treaters come to her door, and she hands them a stapler, scissors, and a bottle of pinot noir. She doesn’t realize what she’s done until Marshall points it out to her, and then she cries because she’s going to miss the stapler. Lily admits that she can’t make any big decisions right now, at least not until she’s done being affected by hormones.
On Modern Family, Claire argues with an overly vigilant store detective. Gloria stands, panicked, and announces that her water broke. Claire and the store detective rush her to the car. As Claire drives, Gloria reveals that she dumped a water bottle on the floor and pretended to go into labor in order to help Claire: “I couldn’t sit there and watch you suffer just because you turned your brain off.” Claire apologizes for pandering to Gloria and doubting her abilities.
Two sitcom episodes, less than a year apart from each other, both dealing with forgetful pregnant women who don’t know how to manage their lives without help, but the message of each episode is very different. The How I Met Your Mother episode is sexist and cliched, while the Modern Family episode attempts to treat the pregnant character with humanity, and mostly succeeds.
Look at the way the other characters talk about Lily and Gloria. Lily is “marinating in a cocktail of hormones,” a “moron,” and acting like the “drunk girl at the bar” – descriptors that would be perfect for a pregnant character on a darker or more satirical comedy, but seem out of place and mean-spirited on a feel-good show like How I Met Your Mother. Claire, on the other hand, initially sympathizes with Gloria, pointing out that pregnancy is draining and of course her memory would be on the fritz.
Lily is also treated like an infant during this pregnancy. She’s not just forgetful – she can’t make any major decisions while these hormones are affecting her brain. SHE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED. Gloria, meanwhile, is forgetful and scattered, but she hasn’t completely lost her mind, and cleverly saves Claire from the repercussions of her own brain fart.

 

More similar than you might think (Vergara and Julie Bowen)
But I think the biggest reason that the Modern Family storyline mostly succeeds and the How I Met Your Mother episode doesn’t is because the first show remembers to show the female perspective on a woman’s issue (imagine that). The episode of How I Met Your Mother isn’t about how Lily deals with pregnancy brain; it’s about how Marshall deals with Lily’s pregnancy brain. Let’s empathize with the poor, long-suffering husband while he deals with the changes in his wife’s body (yawn). Modern Family at least shows us pregnancy-related forgetfulness from the perspective of the female characters. I liked seeing two women bond over their different pregnancies, and I especially liked that Claire didn’t have the exact same experience with every pregnancy.
I don’t know if pregnancy brain is a real thing or not. I’m skeptical, but I’ve had at least two currently pregnant or formerly pregnant friends tell me that they were constantly forgetful during their pregnancies. My impression is that it’s true for some women and not true for others. Both shows exaggerate the concept for for comic effect, but How I Met Your Mother reduces the pregnant woman to an infant and Modern Family remembers that Gloria is still an adult. I know which episode I prefer.
Final thought: if walking into a room with a specific purpose, and then immediately forgetting said purpose for being in that room, is a sign of pregnancy brain, I have been pregnant for the last twenty-eight years. I do this at least twice a day. Maybe pregnant women and scatterbrained artist-writer types are cut from the same cloth.
Lady T is a writer with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

Horror Week 2012: ‘The Walking Dead’ and Gender: Why I’m Skeptical the Addition of Badass Michonne Will Change the TV Series’ Sexism

Michonne (Danai Gurira) in The Walking Dead

Warning: if you haven’t seen Seasons 1 and 2 of The Walking Dead, there are spoilers ahead.

Have you ever dated someone because of their potential rather than what she/he/ze brings to the table? Or is that just me?? Well, that’s how I feel about AMC’s The Walking Dead.

While I like the show, I keep watching the zombie apocalypse, based on the comic books, because I keep hoping and expecting it to become great – especially when it comes to the female characters and the show’s sexist portrayal of gender roles.

The conservative characters continually depict retro gender norms. The men talk about protecting the women. The women cook and clean while the men go off and hunt or protect the camp or farm. Yes, Andrea is the exception to the rule. She shoots and kills zombies and patrols the perimeter. But the women take a backseat to the men. They let the men debate, argue, decide.

I criticized Game of Thrones, a show I adore, for its misogyny. But at least it contains strong, intelligent and powerful female characters. Where the hell are they on The Walking Dead???

Which is why I’m so excited about the introduction of Michonne.

In Season 2’s record-breaking finale, Andrea (Laurie Holden) is rescued by a katana-wielding, hooded woman holding two chained, jawless, armless zombies. It was probably the best introduction I’ve ever witnessed. Ever. And that mystery woman would be Michonne. Not only am I delighted to see another female character. But the show so desperately needs another bad-ass woman.

For those who haven’t read the comics (like me), Michonne, who will be played by Danai Gurira (who’s simply amazing in The Visitor and Treme) seems to be a strong, powerful, complex character. She’s clever since she uses two incapacitated walkers in order to seek out the living hide from other walkers. She appears to be a fierce and fearless survivor. But what’s even more exciting is that she’s a woman of color.

Yet I’m skeptical as the show hasn’t done a great job portraying gender so far.

Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) does whatever Rick (Andrew Lincoln), her husband and leader of the group, says, blindly and unquestioningly standing by him. Carol (Melissa McBride), who’s keeping it together pretty well considering she’s lost her daughter and her husband, still clings to men, first her abusive husband Ed and now Daryl (Norman Reedus), who tell her what to do. The writers squandered the opportunity to explore a domestic violence survivor rather than making her a caricature. When we first meet Maggie (Lauren Cohan), she’s riding in on a horse, bashing a Walker (aka zombie) with a baseball bat. She started off so fierce, spunky and sexually assertive. It’s just unfortunate she’s unraveling, a hysterical mess who seems to cling to her BF Glenn (Steven Yeun) for protection.

The two bright spots are Andrea and Jacqui. Andrea is one of my favorite characters. A tough survivor, she’s one of the best shots and guards the camp. She did try to commit suicide, despondent after her sister died. But she’s become determined to live. She’s smart, questions the status quo, and has become more assertive, unafraid to voice her opinion. Jacqui was outspoken and seemed to possess a quiet inner strength. While I wish she’d fought harder to survive, she chooses to end her life, dying peacefully at the end of Season 1. Even though Andrea and Jacqui are the only ones, I’m glad SOMEBODY questions the ridiculous gender nonsense.

In the very first episode in Season 1, there’s a flashback depicting Rick and Shane joking about gender differences. When Rick confides that he’s having marital problems, he tells Shane that Lori accused him of “not caring about his family in front of” their son Carl. And then Rick (who I actually like a lot) says:

“The difference between men and women? I would never say something that cruel to her.”

Wow, so we’re treated to gender essentialism and a lovely tidbit that women are cruel, heartless shrews all in the first episode. This is definitely an omen of things to come.

Andrea (Laurie Holden), Amy (Emma Bell), Carol (Melissa McBride) doing laundry on The Walking Dead

In “Tell It To the Frogs,” Andrea, Amy, Carol, Jacqui wash laundry in a lake. As the women work, they see the men splashing around enjoying themselves. Jacqui, one of the only women with any common sense and a spark of strength, asks:

“I’m really beginning to question the division of labor around here. Can someone explain to me how the women ended up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?”

YES!! Love this! How about maybe they rotate chores? Or what if (radical idea here) some of the men wanted to cook or clean? Why should the women do all the domestic tasks??

The women proceed to bond over missing their washing machines and vibrators. But then the frivolity is cut short by Carol’s abusive husband Ed who threatens the women and then slaps Carol. While the women try to defend her, Shane steps in and starts beating the shit out of him, getting out all his aggression and frustration about Lori spurning him. So even though Shane warns Ed that he better not ever lay a hand on Carol or Sophia, he’s not acting out of nobility or the belief that men shouldn’t abuse women. Not surprising as this is the same douchebag who later tries to rape Lori and then brushes it off when she confronts him about it.

Talking about women in post-apocalyptic genres, Balancing Jane asserts that while strong women exist, it’s the men who rescue them and allow them their strength:

“[The Walking Dead goes out of its] way to demonstrate that those women had to first be saved by a righteous man. In order for women to become competent and determined, a man had to first stand up and make a space for them. Until a man appeared as savior, the women were doomed to be physically overpowered and sexually exploited.”

Men continually deny women power and autonomy. Dale takes Andrea’s gun away from her (“What Lies Ahead”) like she’s a child, backed up by rapist Shane. So a grown-ass woman shouldn’t have a gun but Carl, an ELEVEN-year-old can carry one! Oh but the little woman can’t be trusted. Ugh. Dale also comments on Andrea and Maggie’s sex lives. Speaking of Carl and guns…Lori voices her opposition for her son shooting yet no one listens to her concerns. When Lori discovers she’s pregnant, Glenn scolds her for not taking her vitamins as if she doesn’t know how to care for herself. Gee thanks, Glenn, it’s not like she’s never been pregnant before.

And then of course there’s the infamous abortion/emergency contraception storyline in “Secrets.” After Lori discovers she’s pregnant, she asks Glenn to obtain medication from the pharmacy for her to terminate her pregnancy (which she admits she’s not sure if it will work). But EC is contraception, doesn’t terminate an existing pregnancy and must be taken within 72 hours of unprotected sex or failed contraception. RU-486, which does terminate an existing pregnancy, has to be procured from a doctor, not a pharmacy.

Jezebel, Slate, ACLU and many others wrote about this episode and the myths it perpetuates. Of course showrunner Glenn Mazzara brushed off the criticism saying the writers took “artistic creative license” and he “hopes people aren’t turning to the fictional world of The Walking Dead for medical advice.” Well of course people shouldn’t be. But the media influences people’s perceptions, including medicine and abortion. There’s so much misinformation swirling around abortion and contraception. And it’s this misinformation that anti-choicers use to their advantage.

If ever there was a time for a show to depict a pregnant character having an abortion…yeah, I think a zombie apocalypse would be it. But it’s strange that this abortion/contraception arc occurs in the same episode where people are debating the zombies in the barn and what constitutes life.

Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) and Rick (Andrew Lincoln) on The Walking Dead

But it’s the reaction of those around Lori that most disturbs me. Rick screams at Lori for even thinking about terminating the pregnancy. After Maggie and Glenn return from the pharmacy (granted, they’ve just been attacked by zombies), Maggie chucks the pills at Lori saying, “Here’s your abortion pills!” So not only does Lori not turn to another woman for help (turning to Glenn instead), but Maggie yells at her for her reproductive choice. As Bitch Magazine blogger Katherine Don writes:

“When reproductive choices are navigated by a stereotyped character and manhandled by scriptwriters who don’t recognize a woman’s ability to weight options and make decisions, the woman is robbed of her individuality, humanity and dignity.”

Beyond their “individuality, humanity and dignity,” the women are also robbed of their voice. In “Judge, Jury, Executioner,” the group congregate in the farmhouse to discuss the fate of captured Randall. While Dale vehemently opposes the decision to execute him, he’s the only one who speaks up. Eventually, Andrea, who was a civil rights lawyer pre-walkers, voices her opinion that Dale’s right. Lori, who opposes the death penalty, says nothing, almost always blindly agreeing with Rick. But the worst comes when Carol says she wants no part of the decision and wants them to decide it for her. Excuse me?? You want to forget all about making the hard decisions and just sit back, letting others decide for you??

I’m so fucking tired of the writers silencing the women.

The show’s treatment of race and heteronormativity isn’t a whole lot better. Why does the one black man (what happened to Morgan and his son from Season 1??) have to be silent for most episodes and have a ridiculous name like T-Dog? Where are the LGBTQ characters? What does it say about a show where the most interesting and complex character is a racist?? Yep, sad to say but Daryl’s my favorite. Why do we have to keep hearing racist Asian jokes? Why did Jacqui, the one black woman on the show, have to kill herself??

We see female empowerment continually stripped away. Lori seems to be the worst perpetrator of gender stereotypes and reinforcing hyper-masculinity. Glenn tells Maggie that he was distracted shooting at the bar because all he could think about was her. When Maggie confesses this in “18 Miles Out,” Lori in her infinite wisdom tells her that she should let “the men do their man-work” and that it’s women’s jobs to support the men. Oh yeah, she also says, “Tell him to man up.” Gee thanks, Lori. Swell advice. So men aren’t allowed to be emotional or sentimental. Only women.

(L-R): Glenn, Andrea, Shane, T-Dog, Daryl on The Walking Dead

Later, Lori, on another anti-feminist tirade (!!!), scolds Andrea for burdening the other women by not cooking and cleaning. Lori says Andrea should leave the other work for the men, like a good little woman, don’t ya know. What. The. Fuck. When Andrea says that she contributes to the group by offering protection and keeping watch (which she does), Lori blurts out,

“You sit up on that RV working on your tan with a shotgun in your lap.”

I’m sorry, did the zombipocalypse also signal a rip in the fabric of time where The Walking Dead characters now live in fucking 1955?! So Lori, women shouldn’t be “playing” with guns or hunting for food or protecting the camp. Nope. Women are only good for domestic duties like cooking, cleaning and child-rearing. Leave the tough stuff to the men. Silly me for forgetting. Thank god Andrea told Lori and her bullshit off. Maybe Lori’s just jealous of Andrea’s skills since Lori can’t drive a car without flipping it into a ditch.

While blaming it on Lori’s “irrational behavior” due to her pregnancy and “going through a lot of stuff” (um, aren’t they all?), writer and The Walking Dead creator Robert Kirkman ultimately defends this exchange and the show’s depiction of traditional gender roles:

“Lori is really just aggravated over a lot of things and she’s lashing out. She was serious and she wants Andrea to pull her weight; certain people are stuck with certain tasks and to a certain extent people are retreating back into traditional gender roles because of how this survival-crazy world seems to work.”

So I’m really supposed to believe that when the zombie shit hits the fan, we’re all going to take a time warp? And why the fuck is it a woman, the wife of the leader of the group, who keeps spouting sexist bullshit?!

The horror genre often makes commentaries on humanity vs. brutality. Yet Kirkman clearly doesn’t care about making a social commentary on gender. And to a point that’s fine – not everything must possess some deep message. But there’s no reason the opposite couldn’t be true – an apocalypse spurring egalitarian rather than “traditional” gender roles.

All of the survivors have endured unspeakable horrors, witnessing the slaughter of their loved ones. People react differently to tragedy, some will come unhinged while others grow stronger. And wielding a gun isn’t necessarily synonymous with strength. But why must we constantly see a rearticulation of sexist gender stereotypes? Do people actually think this sexism is justified because they erroneously think we live in a post-feminist society?? When it comes to genres like horror, fantasy and scif-fi, writers can imagine any world they wish. Why imagine a sexist one? Why is everyone on the show struggling to maintain white male patriarchy??

We haven’t witnessed a fierce woman in any leadership role yet. With the arrival Michonne, I’m finally truly excited about The Walking Dead. I’m hopeful that the writers can still turn things around. With Michonne and Lauren Cohan who plays Maggie promoted to series regular, some speculate “Season 3 is shaping up to be a big one for the ladies.” But I’m still skeptical. Michonne has a lot to do to erase the stench of sexist bullshit contaminating the show.

‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’: Unexpected Gem

Elizabeth Banks and Brooklyn Decker in What to Expect When You’re Expecting
What to Expect When You’re Expecting was [excuse the hack writing here, it’s unavoidable:] not what I expected.  I expected it to be another He’s Just Not That Into You: an insipid, generally obnoxious star-studded ensemble piece loosely inspired by a bestselling cultural touchstone of a nonfiction book.  Instead, it is an entertaining, surprisingly touching star-studded ensemble piece loosely inspired by a bestselling cultural touchstone of a nonfiction book.
One of the best things about What to Expect is that it never attempts to universalize pregnancy or parenting.  The five semi-connected expecting couples in the film all have different conception stories (from an oops one night stand, to getting lucky after years of infertility, to choosing adoption) and pregnancy experiences (from Brooklyn Decker’s walk-in-the-park pregnancy with twins to lactation advocate Elizabeth Bank’s hormone-fueled emotional breakdown to [spoiler alert!] an astonishingly sensitive depiction of miscarriage).  While the film unfortunately depicts an Atlanta that knows no gays and is largely white, it at least partway makes up for its lack of demographic diversity by exploring a rich diversity of experience.
“Dudes Group” of fathers in What to Expect When You’re Expecting
I was also very happily surprised by the depiction of fatherhood in What to Expect When You’re Expecting, especially after seeing the bit in the trailer where a group of dads pushing strollers slo-mo walk to Biggie’s “Big Poppa.”   I expected this plotline to be another iteration of “men doing ladywork: HILARIOUS!”  But the “dudes group” is celebrated, not mocked, for embracing fatherhood, and while the group has a code of “no judging” when they share such parenting mishaps as “last week, my kid ate a cigarette”, the dads are not depicted as incompetent impostors in a woman’s world. They’re equal partners in parenthood.
And best of all, What to Expect When You’re Expecting is genuinely funny and emotionally affecting.  It’s sort of unfortunate that the movie features a lot of humor bizarrely specific to the 2012 zeitgeist, from food truck rivalries to autotuned remixes of public breakdowns; because the movie could be, like the book of the same title, something of a perennial classic for expecting parents.  But What to Expect When You’re Expecting makes up some points by also including some of the best things about the 2012 cultural moment: scene-stealing Rebel Wilson and shirtless Joe Manganiello. 
Shirtless Joe Maganiello is one of the best things about living in 2012.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: Glee!

This review by Cali Loria previously appeared at Bitch Flicks as part of our Emmy Week 2011 series.
Not since E! has any one thing on television been so damn exclamatory. Glee! celebrated its everyman song-and-dance style before its slushy flying face-offs ever aired. After a Journey-style breakthrough and myriad episodes featuring pop music gone oh so right, the show ended its first Emmy award-winning season and began a second. Can the plotlines featuring teen pregnancy, teen love, and a bitter gym teacher make it with a little Britney Spears mixed in? The answer is: yes. However, following the line of Britney logic, all its women have had to suffer in the meantime: bitches be crazy (e.g. writing underdeveloped characters who become caricatures of themselves, ending in a mockery of those whose very geekiness Glee attempted to celebrate).

In the beginning Glee made a brand out of celebrating the insecurities, joy, and passions of a group of social outcasts. Quickly, however, Glee called into question its treatment of women, prompting the New York Post to ask “Does Glee! Hate women?” In season one alone a woman is shown to be conniving enough to fake a pregnancy to “keep her man” and another, this time a teenager, grappled with pregnancy until, poof, the storyline magically disappeared. Luckily Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” was able to get into the mix first, or I would have been pissed.

Besides the stereotypical portrayals of women-as-girls-as-GQ-cover-models-being-schoolgirls that this show offers, Glee goes further by, perhaps unintentionally, mocking its characters. Vitriolic gym teacher Sue Sylvester (who eerily resembles my elementary school gym teacher) relies on her bitter use of the pretty girls and exploitation of the token special needs child as a means to succeed to her ultimate end. As their most fully fleshed-out character (and perhaps most accomplished actor) Jane Lynch does a great job being angry but does nothing for the stereotype of the angry lesbian gym teacher taunting kids to make herself feel better. Coach Beiset’s introduction furthered this by presenting this gem of a storyline: no man wanted to kiss her so what was a woman to do but become an angry, middle-aged football coach: the better to scream at you, my dears.

Mixed in with the older women who suffer to fall in and keep love and affection, the teens of Glee keep the teenage dreams coming faster than Katy Perry’s hits. Puck, the number one misogynist/baby daddy/Neil Diamond Crooner and the show’s resident sometimes Gothic sometimes snarky, always shown eating or wrestling, Lauren, are just one of many unconventional couples Glee has drummed up. Lauren’s morbid obesity might once have proven to be a means for character slander, as Puck himself proclaimed when he said to then pregnant Quinn “I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just saying please stop super-sizing because I don’t dig on fat chicks.” Now, however, it is the stuff of fetishistic pop preening. First, Puck serenades his new love interest with a rendition of “Fat Bottom Girls” and, shock, she finds it offensive. To make it better he sings the original number “Big Ass Heart” because it is okay for the organ that pumps our blood and, symbolically, falls us in love to have a “big ass” even though a heart has never won a pie eating contest or needed two seats in an airplane. We get it–there’s a size difference here.

Having a character on TV who does not fit into the mold of being a perfect Westernized ideal of beauty would, in someone else’s hands, be refreshing. Glee, however, focuses on the extremes of women, enjoying the overt and campy hyperbolization of its characters which, in essence, detracts from actual storylines and only serves to render the women flat and one-dimensional: Jewish starlet, slut, dumb blonde, conniving cheerleader, sassy black woman, an Asian, and, now, a full-fleshed female. Glee has a recipe with every ingredient, but stirred together it’s one big lump of heterogeneous stereotypes. I’m not saying this couple should not exist; I am simply implying that it may have been beneficial to give her a love interest that does not appear to be ten seconds from dumping pigs blood over her head at prom.

Two other prominent female characters central to Glee’s narrative arc are slutty Santana and dumb blonde Britney. These two rarely have lines, and, when they do, it is solely to enforce these two personas. What they do have, however, is a girl on girl on glee make out session. Of course Glee would need to have two of its beautiful, popular women fall in love and make out, why not? Glee loves Katy Perry and she kissed a girl and, damn it, she liked it. The issue is not girls kissing girls; it is the exploration of lesbianism in a trite and frivolous manner.

The trials and tribulations girls in high school are facing today are by no means easy. From eating disorders to bullying, the very struggle of learning who you are as a woman, inside, out, sexually, emotionally, is a process. Women today are barraged with images of who they should be, how they should act, and whom they should kiss. Glee, in an attempt to make it okay to be whomever you are, has simply created an hour of sing-along to the pain and pleasure of all the versions of themselves  that girls see when they look in the mirror. We are all sexy and scared, stupid and skinny, fat and fabulous–but fleshing out these various facets to frivolous plotlines and self-mocking monologues is akin to giving every girl a Barbie with adjective occupations. Women deserve more than this style of characterization. 

 
———-
Cali Loria is a thug with unbelievable scrabble skills. She is mother to a King and a lover of film, food, and feminism. 
 
 

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: ‘Glee!’

This review by Cali Loria previously appeared at Bitch Flicks as part of our Emmy Week 2011 series.
Not since E! has any one thing on television been so damn exclamatory. Glee! celebrated its everyman song-and-dance style before its slushy flying face-offs ever aired. After a Journey-style breakthrough and myriad episodes featuring pop music gone oh so right, the show ended its first Emmy award-winning season and began a second. Can the plotlines featuring teen pregnancy, teen love, and a bitter gym teacher make it with a little Britney Spears mixed in? The answer is: yes. However, following the line of Britney logic, all its women have had to suffer in the meantime: bitches be crazy (e.g. writing underdeveloped characters who become caricatures of themselves, ending in a mockery of those whose very geekiness Glee attempted to celebrate).

In the beginning Glee made a brand out of celebrating the insecurities, joy, and passions of a group of social outcasts. Quickly, however, Glee called into question its treatment of women, prompting the New York Post to ask “Does Glee! Hate women?” In season one alone a woman is shown to be conniving enough to fake a pregnancy to “keep her man” and another, this time a teenager, grappled with pregnancy until, poof, the storyline magically disappeared. Luckily Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” was able to get into the mix first, or I would have been pissed.

Besides the stereotypical portrayals of women-as-girls-as-GQ-cover-models-being-schoolgirls that this show offers, Glee goes further by, perhaps unintentionally, mocking its characters. Vitriolic gym teacher Sue Sylvester (who eerily resembles my elementary school gym teacher) relies on her bitter use of the pretty girls and exploitation of the token special needs child as a means to succeed to her ultimate end. As their most fully fleshed-out character (and perhaps most accomplished actor) Jane Lynch does a great job being angry but does nothing for the stereotype of the angry lesbian gym teacher taunting kids to make herself feel better. Coach Beiset’s introduction furthered this by presenting this gem of a storyline: no man wanted to kiss her so what was a woman to do but become an angry, middle-aged football coach: the better to scream at you, my dears.

Mixed in with the older women who suffer to fall in and keep love and affection, the teens of Glee keep the teenage dreams coming faster than Katy Perry’s hits. Puck, the number one misogynist/baby daddy/Neil Diamond Crooner and the show’s resident sometimes Gothic sometimes snarky, always shown eating or wrestling, Lauren, are just one of many unconventional couples Glee has drummed up. Lauren’s morbid obesity might once have proven to be a means for character slander, as Puck himself proclaimed when he said to then pregnant Quinn “I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just saying please stop super-sizing because I don’t dig on fat chicks.” Now, however, it is the stuff of fetishistic pop preening. First, Puck serenades his new love interest with a rendition of “Fat Bottom Girls” and, shock, she finds it offensive. To make it better he sings the original number “Big Ass Heart” because it is okay for the organ that pumps our blood and, symbolically, falls us in love to have a “big ass” even though a heart has never won a pie eating contest or needed two seats in an airplane. We get it–there’s a size difference here.

Having a character on TV who does not fit into the mold of being a perfect Westernized ideal of beauty would, in someone else’s hands, be refreshing. Glee, however, focuses on the extremes of women, enjoying the overt and campy hyperbolization of its characters which, in essence, detracts from actual storylines and only serves to render the women flat and one-dimensional: Jewish starlet, slut, dumb blonde, conniving cheerleader, sassy black woman, an Asian, and, now, a full-fleshed female. Glee has a recipe with every ingredient, but stirred together it’s one big lump of heterogeneous stereotypes. I’m not saying this couple should not exist; I am simply implying that it may have been beneficial to give her a love interest that does not appear to be ten seconds from dumping pigs blood over her head at prom.

Two other prominent female characters central to Glee’s narrative arc are slutty Santana and dumb blonde Britney. These two rarely have lines, and, when they do, it is solely to enforce these two personas. What they do have, however, is a girl on girl on glee make out session. Of course Glee would need to have two of its beautiful, popular women fall in love and make out, why not? Glee loves Katy Perry and she kissed a girl and, damn it, she liked it. The issue is not girls kissing girls; it is the exploration of lesbianism in a trite and frivolous manner.

The trials and tribulations girls in high school are facing today are by no means easy. From eating disorders to bullying, the very struggle of learning who you are as a woman, inside, out, sexually, emotionally, is a process. Women today are barraged with images of who they should be, how they should act, and whom they should kiss. Glee, in an attempt to make it okay to be whomever you are, has simply created an hour of sing-along to the pain and pleasure of all the versions of themselves  that girls see when they look in the mirror. We are all sexy and scared, stupid and skinny, fat and fabulous–but fleshing out these various facets to frivolous plotlines and self-mocking monologues is akin to giving every girl a Barbie with adjective occupations. Women deserve more than this style of characterization. 

 
———-
Cali Loria is a thug with unbelievable scrabble skills. She is mother to a King and a lover of film, food, and feminism. 
 
 

Guest Writer Wednesday: ‘Prometheus’ and the ‘Alien’ Movies: Feminism and Anti-Feminism

Guest post written by Rhea Daniel. Cross-posted from her blog Short Stories with permission.
Warning: Some images NSFW and links below lead to some NSFW images.
Long after I had seen and re-seen the Alien movie series, I was shocked to learn that they possess intense anti-feminist themes, articulated in the brilliant essay by Michael Davis and in the psychoanalytical study of horror movie tropes by Barbara Creed. The underlying themes in the Alien series reflect humanity’s intense fear of penetration and childbirth, with alien spawn tearing its way out of the womb (chest cavity, call it what you will) well in rhythm with Giger’sown biomecha art and his surreal visual concoctions of birth, death and human sexuality.
Victory V (Satan), HR Giger, 1983

Both Giger and the movies reflect our ancient patriarchal religious fears of the monstrous feminine1combined with our modern germophobic clinical distaste for the disease-spreading organic and the abject: secretions, menstrual blood, placenta, amniotic fluid, seriously drippy mucosa, include semen if you will. For Giger the womb is not a place where a child is nurtured and childbirth something that has to be embraced, forget that tired old eco-feminist claptrap, it is a claustrophobic deathtrap that has to be survived, even if it results in the death of the parent2
Biomechanoid, HR Giger,1976

However my reading of what the critics had to say did not diminish my enthusiasm to see Prometheus. I remember clearly the days sitting together, thoroughly enjoying any movie with my family while ripping it to bits at the same time. The job of the critic is to analyze what they see, and the fact that the Alien movies have more to them than I first thought only makes them more interesting.

***(Be wary for there are several references to human whatnots about to follow)***
 
Prometheus pushes this notion of the ‘death of the parent’ when David lightheartedly addresses Dr. Elizabeth Shaw after her frightful operation, but that’s not all Prometheusis riding on. If anyone noticed, all the Engineers seem to be dudes, and in addition to the myth of Prometheus, this brings up the story of the Goddess Athena emerging perfectly formed from Zeus’s head3, and I allude to this because the scientifically advanced Engineers seemed to have created, cleanly, without the need for the crude, organic, stifling enclosure of the womb, an entire race in ‘Their’ likeness*,read identical DNA, eliminating the need for the female, which is what the existence of an all-male race proposes. The design of the clone-like marble sculpted super-bodies of the Engineers further substantiates the Greek mythological reference.

Hermes, Engineer

Prometheus simplifies what Alien proposed, it interchanges between penile and vaginal imagery: creature with knob-like head that flowers into a vagina, gigantic vagina dentata scene, penis-probe emerges, both male and female genitalia are likely villains. In the proud tradition of a design that’s been rumoured to be inspired by human body bits, skeletons and BMW car parts, it’s all perfectly justifiable.

The eco-feminist opinion of the medicalization of childbirth is that it alienates the child from the mother and vice versa, the mother has to be delivered from her baby, the child has to be saved from its mother’s stifling uterine constrictions, and now I refer quite obviously to Elizabeth’s self-inflicted caesarean. Okay, fine, she didn’t do to herself literally, she got the reluctant machine to do it for her, to get that twisting, bulging, rapidly expanding alien body out of herself. I got an intense feeling of déjà vu during that scene: seriously, get the damned thing out quickly. More painkillers please. The scene has been hailed as a pro-choice metaphor, an assertion of reproductive rights, a claim to ownership of the female body by the female herself, the machine being calibrated for the male body hindering Elizabeth’s attempt to save herself a reference to the ongoing battle for reproductive freedom in the United States, but it is also a modern feminist embrace of medical technology. I agree with the movie’s usage of the term ‘caesarean’; ‘abortion’ would imply a vaginal expulsion of the thing, after killing it within the womb, considerably more invasive and terrifying. Eco-feminism not only gets the boot in that scene with the embrace of mechanistic, but also because Elizabeth, as opposed to cloned Ripley in Alien Resurrection4, isn’t keen to claim any part of the alien growing inside herself as her own.

Prometheus is gorgeous but sports little of the multi-layered psychological profundity of its predecessor (I can barely think of Prometheus as a prequel to Alien, so let’s just say it tried to ride on its predecessor’s glory and it partly succeeded. It has its niggling flaws, like I don’t know why a biologist would approach an entirely new alien species in a ‘here kittykittykitty’ manner, or why with all that fantastic technology the geologist and biologist got lost in the first place. It’s okay, they’re expendable. Elizabeth Shaw however is important and impressive, she’s softer and smaller than the androgynous, tough warrior that is Ripley, however no less formidable as a heroine.

I’m all geared up for a sequel now and want to know how the Engineers are going to react when a female version of themselves lands up at the door with an android’s head in a duffle bag, questioning them about an experiment gone awry.

Notes:

1 Barbara Creed “The Monstrous-Feminine: Film, Feminism, Psychoanalysis”, Routledge, 1993

2 Stanislav Grof “HR Giger and the Soul of the Twentieth Century”, HR Giger, Taschen 2002

3 Jane Caputi, “Goddesses and Monsters: Women, Myth, Power, and Popular Culture”

4 “I’m the monster’s mother”, Ripley, Alien Resurrection (1997)

*Edit 27/6–This is what I assumed the DNA scene from the movie was suggesting. I’m not sciencey enough to know what kind of life forms exist out there or how they come about. When and where the female human is supposed to have come into the picture I can only guess. It was a pretty scene though.

**Edit 4/7–It just occurred to me that this whole thing might be orchestrated by a Queen. Is Ridley going to spring a surprise on us??

Rhea Daniel got to see a lot of movies as a kid because her family members were obsessive movie-watchers. She frequently finds herself in a bind between her love for art and her feminist conscience. Meanwhile she is trying to be a better writer and artist and you can find her at http://rheadaniel.blogspot.com/.

 

Is ‘Prometheus’ a Feminist Pro-Choice Metaphor?

Noomi Rapace (Dr. Elizabeth Shaw) in Prometheus

Warning: massive spoilers ahead!

A pseudo-prequel to Alien, Prometheus raises existential themes of religion, god, faith, science, creation, mythology and evolution. While these are all worthy topics, I’m much more interested in Prometheus’ treatment of its female characters and its commentary on reproduction. Is director Ridley Scott’s new film a pro-choice metaphor advocating reproductive justice?
I was ridiculously excited to see Prometheus. As I’ve shared before, Lt. Ellen Ripley was my icon growing up…as she was for many of us. And Scott admittedly loves showcasing strong, intelligent female leads.
Here the incredibly skilled Noomi Rapace plays the female protagonist Dr. Elizabeth Shaw, an archaeologist guided by her curiosity and buoyed by her religious faith. She and her colleague/partner Charlie Holloway discover caves with paintings signifying our creators or “Engineers” as they call them. When corporate Weyland Industries (a pre-cursor to Alien’s Weyland-Yutani) funds their expedition, they go in search of the beginning of humanity…with horrifying consequences.
The film is problematic with its weak dialogue and flimsy characters. Aside from Rapace’s Shaw and Idris Elba’s Janek (Stringer Bell cigar-smoking and playing an accordion?? Yes, please!), I seriously couldn’t give two shits who lived and who died, which is particularly annoying since Alien rested on the strength of its nuanced character development. But where the film captivates is in its exploration of reproduction.
Patriarchy perpetuates rape culture and infringes on reproductive rights. Alien centered on rape and men’s fear of female reproduction. Littered with vaginal-looking aliens and phallic xenomorphs violating victims orally, these themes resurface. But this time around, Scott’s latest endeavor also adds abortion and infertility. As ThinkProgress’ Alyssa Rosenberg asserts, Prometheus bolsters the Alien Saga’s themes of “exploration of bodily invasion and specifically women’s bodily autonomy.”
Holloway goes on a diatribe to Shaw about creation and meeting our creators. He says that everyone can create. Shaw responds, “Not me,” shedding tears as she laments her infertility, something rarely depicted on-screen. Their conversation seemed to comment on how society views women as broken and not fulfilling their ultimate purpose unless they give birth.
While Shaw doesn’t give birth, she does become pregnant.
When David the android (Michael Fassbender) obtains some of the mysterious “black goo” from the temple, he poisons Holloway by placing a drop in his drink. After Holloway and Shaw talk about creation and infertility, Shaw has sex with the infected Holloway.
After Holloway dies (torched by a flame-throwing-toting Vickers), David examines Shaw for any infection. He then tells her that she’s pregnant (say what??). She knows this is impossible because of her infertility. Even though she’s stunned by this revelation — because of its improbability and her infertility is a source of pain — Shaw wants it out of her immediately.

But David doesn’t want her to have an abortion, insisting she be put in stasis and trying to restrain her. Like Ash in Alien, it appears David had an agenda to try and keep the creature inside Shaw alive. David tries to thwart Shaw’s agency and bodily autonomy, forcing her to remain pregnant. Hmmm, sounds eerily similar to anti-choice Republicans with their invasive and oppressive legislation restricting abortion. No one has the right to tell someone what to do with their body.
After fighting her way past people, Shaw enters a medpod, a surgical “chamber,” which is only designed for male patients. Now before anyone says that the chamber was intended for secret passenger Weyland (a dude), it still subtly reinforces patriarchy nonetheless. Why couldn’t a medical chamber offer procedures for all genders rather than just defaulting its calibrations to male?
Undeterred, she programs the machine to remove a foreign object. She watches as her stomach is the mechanical arms remove the alien creature and then is stapled up. Hands down this was the most riveting scene (and squeamish…aside from that creepy eye scene), watching a terrified yet steely determined Shaw assert control over her body and her reproduction.

Now, not everyone agrees that Shaw was pregnant or that her procedure should be called an abortion. Some say yes, others argue no, and still others are unsure. Rosenberg asserts it’s not really an abortion as Shaw “isn’t pregnant but rather infected” and the surgery doesn’t result in “the termination of her pregnancy but a premature birth.” But Scott himself calls it a pregnancy.

For those who discount Shaw’s abortion because it’s a foreign object or not a traditional fetus, look at Breaking Dawn. Bella’s vampire/human fetus grew at a rapid rate, made her sick and almost destroyed her body. Yet she chose to keep it. My point is that Shaw could have as well. Instead, she chooses an abortion.

But whatever terminology you use — and I’m in the camp that calls it an abortion — you can’t ignore the abortion metaphor.
Rather than merely succumbing to the trappings of the Mystical Pregnancy Trope, which reduces women to their reproductive organs, we instead see a metaphor for patriarchal constraints trying to strip women of their reproductive rights and bodily autonomy.
Dr. Elizabeth Shaw (actor Noomi Rapace) after having abortion in Prometheus
But before I start jumping up and down that a summer blockbuster features an abortion, there’s a few probs here. The word abortion is never uttered. Nope, not once. Instead, it’s referenced as a “procedure.” When Shaw enters the medpod, she initially attempts to program a caesarean, again not an abortion.
Prometheus also suffers from some problematic gender depictions. While both Prometheus and Alien thrust their female leads into terrifying situations, Shaw and Ripley drastically differ, not only in their personalities and worldviews. But in the way the films treat them.
Alien possessed a strong feminist commentary on sexist patriarchy silencing women’s voices and attempting to objectify and violate their bodies. Unlike Ripley, both Shaw and the icy, seemingly villainous Vickers are sexualized. Both Shaw and Vickers are punished — Vickers by falling into the stereotypical trap of being a cold, selfish shrew and Shaw for her sexuality. Although I’ve got to point out that while Vickers was definitely selfish (not stopping to help a stumbling Shaw when outrunning the crashing ship), I think she made some smart decisions surrounded by an assload of people making idiotic ones. And um, I don’t blame her for not wanting an infected Holloway onboard (which Ripley also tried to do with Kane in Alien). Weyland also makes a sexist statement about inheritance and how David is the closest thing he has to a son, despite his flesh and blood daughter Vickers. It’s as if a daughter is meaningless to him.
Ripley wasn’t defined by her relationship to a man nor did she need a man to survive. But Shaw does…or at least an android taking the form of a man. Yes, she’s a resilient survivor. Although David makes a point to express his surprise at Shaw’s survival, saying he didn’t know she had it in her (ugh, cue bad pun). But aside from her self-induced abortion, Shaw ultimately must rely on others: the squidlike xenomorph extracted during her abortion to save her from a violent Engineer as well as David to escape the planet as he can fly the Engineers’ spacecraft. Although Shaw is the one who determines their course.
Perhaps these gender problems are meant as a commentary on the incessant sexism plaguing today’s society. Or maybe Ripley was such a quintessential feminist film icon that this film pales in comparison.
While it’s not as feminist as it could or should be, The Mary Sue’s Zev Chevat sums up what I liked most about Prometheus:
“Mixing in allusions to birth, the body as battleground, and a female character’s absolute will to regain control belong in this series as much as slimy extraterrestrials. It’s what the Alien films do well, and what Prometheus does best.”
Prometheus is an incredibly flawed film. But when reproductive justice faces a daily barrage of attacks, I have to applaud its efforts to depict its female protagonist not only choosing an abortion, but fighting for her right to exercise autonomy over her body. Especially when so few films and TV series do.

Motherhood in Film & Television: Spawning the World: Motherhood in ‘Game of Thrones’

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

Game of Thrones
This piece by Rachel Redfern is cross-posted with permission from Not Another Wave.
Game of Thrones is the buzzword for this season’s TV community: the backbiting, the plotting, the violence, the sex (which everyone is discussing). What horrific plot twist will the Lannisters think of next, we wonder out loud?
So I won’t really talk about those things, because to my mind, those aspects of the show have been reviewed by dozens of worthy reviewers: The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Mary Sue and Bitch Flicks, just to name a few. (If you’re not really sure of the plot or premise of the movie, you should definitely Wikipedia it, as I’m not really going to talk about that here, considering that so many other reviewers and websites have already provided a synopsis for it.)
One of the aspects that struck me in the show though, is the portrayal of motherhood. Far from being absent or swept to the side, the film’s mothers are a driving force in the plot development and are some of the most multi-dimensional of the series (credit has to be given to the actresses who play them).
There are thee instances of motherhood being portrayed here: Cercei and Lady Arryn’s obsessive, spoiling, “my child is a god” kind of motherhood, Lady Stark’s “good mom” style, and lastly, the Dothraki queen Daenerys Targaryen’s pregnancy where she is worshipped by her people.
Lady Arryn is mentally unstable, we can see that. Hell, the other characters can see that and are sending concerned glances to each other whenever she speaks and this outlandish behavior is most noticeable in regards to her son. Her child is a picture-perfect example (almost a caricature) of the spoiled child—the kind of spoiled child who still nurses at the age of ten (which, no matter what you say, is always weird). Her kind of motherhood, the indulgent nothing-is-wrong-with my child is interesting in that it also coincides with her isolation, as her castle is one that is almost completely cut-off from the world.
It’s a common trope, the mother who does everything for her son, so much so that we never see outside of the role of mother. She appears to have nothing else in her life and so instead showers him with inappropriate attention.
There is another example of spoiling a child, one in which the child is in the later stages of his aberrant and spoiled behavior. Lady Cersei, though, is a different kind of mother from the unstable and isolated Lady Arryn. Cersei is the mother to a prince, and then later to a king, and her kind of mothering seems to revolve around the difficult lifestyle of maintaining power for her son and, therefore, for her. It’s a selfish sort of spoiling, one in which the son is used as a way to protect the mothers status, a situation she is able to maintain by creating an “Us vs. Them” mentality in the cruel Joffrey.
In both instances, their treatment of their children is one way that the case for their “evilness” is created; it appears that the road to creating an evil female character is to highlight the way that she uses her children, in that here, the children become a mirror for the mother. It’s a common trope, motherhood being the most unselfish of occupations and perhaps the most revered, therefore in order for a woman to be truly evil, she must also be a bad mother.
So two examples of bad motherhood, one completely consumed by her child, the other only consumed by her child because of the power and status it offers her, both characters however revealed by their relationship to their children (something I find a little frustrating, personally).
Then there is the nice mother; there always has to be a nice mom. Someone who legitimately cares for her children and does her best to offer them a stable and happy home, free from a “take whatever you want” kind of attitude, and while that is how the lovely Lady Stark begins (every time someone says Stark in the show though, I totally think of Iron Man and subsequently, Robert Downey Jr.; it’s a happy thought), she ends up being a very different kind of mother.
I find it interesting that she decides to join her oldest son Robb on the battlefield and become his most valuable diplomat and negotiator, scoring him alliances and armies at every turn. It’s possibly the most unique portrayal of motherhood in the show, in that it morphs from kindly lady sitting by the fire, watching her sick child, to wartime confidant and adviser. The Lady Stark pounds around on her white horse, offering counsel to her son, but also taking his commands as she rushes into hostile camps and offers a truce here and a daughter there in exchange for a few more soldiers. It’s a very different kind of motherhood, one that is loving, but ultimately becomes a bit harder when she begins to bargain off her children (giving Arya to one of Lord Frey’s sons and Robb to one of his daughters) in order to keep them safe, and even to get what she wants: a little revenge for her husbands death.
I suppose you can therefore read it two ways: Lady Stark is merely caught between a rock and a hard place and is doing what she must in order to protect them, or she, like the other mothers, is willing to use her children in order to fulfill her own selfish ends. I’ll let you decide in her case.
The last instance of motherhood is rather short-lived and consists mostly of pregnancy; I’m referring to the delicate-turned-fiery (literally) Daenerys Targaryen and her unborn son. Daenerys is queen (by marriage) of the Dothraki, a war-like, horse-loving people of nomads and once she gets pregnant with a son (it’s always a son) she becomes an object of worship for her people. Her ability to become impregnated elevates and causes an outpouring of love for her amongst her people, a circumstance that I see repeated often in films and even in our society.
The worship of fertility has a huge place in our history: fertility gods, fertility idols, fertility rites are everywhere as a symbol of the divine power inherent in childbirth. Now, I am not a mother, I’ve never had children, but I see it even today, the belief that the pregnant lady can do no wrong (believe me friends, she can); I’m not trying to belittle this situation, or even criticize it, merely pointing out it’s prevalence in our society.
In the scene above, Daenerys is kneeling on a dais, surrounded by people cheering her name, while she eats a raw horse heart as a power ritual designed to give her son strength. Daenerys is in positioned above everyone else as she takes on the divine mother role; she is to be the deliverer of a mighty new son and ruler, a vessel of the future.
However, I find this problematic sometimes, as it seems to suggest that Daenerys’ worth is directly tied to her ability to be used by something else (in this case, her child). Though perhaps that analogy doesn’t work in this situation as she ends up sacrificing her own son’s life in order to save her husband. So again, in this series, the child becomes something to be used in order to achieve her own ends.
On a depressing note, I guess what I’m saying is, the mothers in Game of Thrones are not very nice mothers.


Rachel Redfern has an MA in English literature, where she conducted research on modern American literature and film and it’s intersection, however she spends most of her time watching HBO shows, traveling, and blogging and reading about feminism.
 

Motherhood in Film & Television: ‘Rosemary’s Baby’

This is a guest post from Erin Fenner.
Rosemary’s Baby, the Roman Polanski 1968 adaptation of the novel with the same name, uses minimal effects. While it is a horror story about the mother of Satan’s child, we only briefly glimpse the arm and eyes of the feature’s supposed monster. And, while the plot against Rosemary is conceived by a coven of witches, we don’t see bubbling potions. That is because Rosemary’s Baby is not a horror story about Satan or witchcraft.
Rosemary’s Baby is a horror story about being a woman.
Watch the trailer:
Rosemary, played by the waifish Mia Farrow, is a young woman excited for her role as wife and soon-to-be mother. But, even in her acceptance and celebration of traditional gender roles she is exploited, robbed of autonomy, discounted as hysterical and ultimately must give up all control of herself and her body.
Sound familiar? That’s because her terrors are real ones with just a dash of supernatural motivations.
We meet Rosemary when she and her husband, Guy, played by John Cassavetes, decide to move into a new apartment house. She is the picture of a cheerful stay-at-home wife – taking pleasure in decorating the house, filled with bubbling optimism and one who enjoys pleasing her husband. All she wants beyond her currently cozy situation is to become a mother.
She gets her wish when Guy, an ambitious actor, declares he’s ready to be a dad. The audience learns quickly that his motivations aren’t rooted in a comparable desire for fatherhood, but because he’s made a pact with peculiar neighbors we later discover are witches. He gets a shot at success if he delivers them a baby.
While the viewer can deduce this easily, we never see the world from anyone’s perspective but Rosemary’s. We spend most of the film cooped up with her, claustrophobic and powerless, in the apartment house.
The conception of Rosemary’s baby happens in a particularly brutal way – through rape. Guy drugs his wife and takes her to a ritual to be impregnated by Satan. Rosemary is semi-conscious and cries out, “This is no dream – this is really happening!” And, when she wakes up the next morning, Guy casually mentions that he had sex with her while she was sleeping. So, even though upon waking she concludes the rape was a dream, she still considers the conception of her baby as one derived through non-consensual sex. Her first step toward motherhood is one where she is deprived the right to control her own body.
Her journey into motherhood is further hijacked by Guy and her witch-neighbors who insist on her going to a different doctor – one we learn is part of the Satanist coven. Her new doctor, Dr. Sapirstein, played by Ralph Bellamy, demands she ignores the advice of her friends and books, and only listen to his instructions. Whenever she expresses concern about her pregnancy, he shoots her perspective down and shames her for self-education.
Rosemary (Mia Farrow)
We see the already thin Rosemary develop pronounced dark shadows under her eyes and become emaciated. She says she’s in a constant state of pain. It’s only when, during a party with her peers, that she is validated by other women. One of her friends even pushes Guy out of the room so that they can express their support and concern. It’s from this very brief exchange with her friends, where they insist her pain is abnormal, that Rosemary is empowered and encouraged to change doctors and take charge of her own health.
This empowerment is short-lived, because she gives up after a fight with Guy and her pain eases up. She relinquishes to her husband and her body.
Her small rebellions against others’ attempts to control her body – like not drinking the drink her witch-neighbors prepare for her – cease. She falls easily into passivity until she reads a book left to her by an old friend who we can presume was murdered by the coven next door.
The book details the history of the coven that had lived in her apartment house generations before, and helps her conclude that her pregnancy is central to a plot devised by her neighbors, husband and doctor.
With this new realization Rosemary rushes to her old obstetrician, Dr. Hill, played by Charles Grodin, to seek help. After pleading with him for assistance, Dr. Hill brings her into a room for rest, but then returns with Guy and Dr. Sapirstein to sedate her and take her away. She is dismissed as being a hysterical woman: pre-partum.
The next scenes are delirious. Rosemary is sedated, and when awake she attempts to make demands, but is denied. And, when she gives birth, she is not allowed to see her baby and is deceived about its condition.
Rosemary’s only motivation now is centered on her motherhood. It’s the only power she can claim. So, after recovering from giving birth, she sneaks around her apartment house, and finds a hidden passage to the witch-neighbors. There she finds the coven surrounding a satanic crib.
The scene is almost anti-climactic. There is no struggle and no high drama speeches. Rosemary discovers her baby is a monster – the son of Satan. She learns the truth – her husband and neighbors were plotting against her. And then, she resigns herself. She has already lost control of her body long ago and has nothing left but her role as a mother.
Rosemary lives up perfectly to the norm of womanhood. Unlike the women who we begrudgingly expect to be punished in films because they are promiscuous, independent, “bitchy” or uninterested in family life – we would expect Rosemary’s story to pan out positively because she adheres to gendered expectations.
But, Rosemary’s Baby is not a film meant to encourage a fearful narrative about the value of following prescribed roles – instead it is about a woman who is victimized by the very gender roles she had enthusiastically accepted. Rosemary accepts her societal role as a woman. Still, she is punished and suffers. And, because it is so close to reality, it is horrifying. 

Erin Fenner is a legislative intern and blogger for Trust Women: advocating for the reproductive rights of women in conservative Midwestern states. She also writes for the Trust Women blog and manages their social media networks. She graduated from the University of Idaho with a B.S. in Journalism.