Over the past decade, Carrie Fisher has been outspoken about her struggles with bipolar disorder and addiction. Her admissions are profound for a Hollywood actress of her caliber, especially when you consider the ways that society stigmatizes mental illness.
At the ripe age of 19, Carrie Fisher landed the role of a lifetime playing the iconic Princess Leia in Star Wars: A New Hope. Nearly forty years later, a resurgence of hype surrounding the Star Wars franchise, the heroine once again finds herself in the spotlight. The actress, who recently reprised her role as Leia in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, has been beloved for decades. But Fisher shines for reasons other than her acting as well.
Fisher recently made headlines when she rightfully criticized ageist and sexist comments on her appearance, as well as condemned the toxicity of beauty standards. But her candor shouldn’t come as a surprise. Over the past decade, Fisher has been outspoken about her struggles with bipolar disorder and addiction. Her admissions are profound for a Hollywood actress of her caliber, especially when you consider the ways that society stigmatizes mental illness.
Fisher was seemingly destined for fame, the daughter of Hollywood royalty Debbie Reynolds and vocalist Eddie Fisher. She began her career early, lighting up the big screen in films like Shampoo, The Blues Brothers, and When Harry Met Sally. Remarkably, just two years after her debut performance in Shampoo, she earnedher most notable role as Leia, reportedly beating out Jodie Foster and Amy Irving for the part.
Fisher’s road to stardom has been a rocky one. By the time Return of the Jedi was being filmed, Fisher had begun self-medicating with sleeping pills. After a four year drug binge post production, Fisher was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. In an interview with Diane Sawyer, Fisher notes:
“I used to think I was a drug addict, pure and simple — just someone who could not stop taking drugs willfully. And I was that. But it turns out that I am severely manic depressive. … I thought they told me I was manic depressive to make me feel better about being a drug addict. It’s what you think. If you could just control yourself … You had an indulged childhood … You were a child of privilege … I don’t know, that’s what I thought. You’re just a drug addict.”
While frank about her mental illness for over a decade, Fisher’s openness about her addiction took time. Hollywood and the media at large are both notorious for their lack of empathy and understanding of mental illness, often perpetuating dangerous myths about mental illness. Yet, Fisher gives honest testimonies of the trials and triumphs of battling addiction and bipolar disorder, fully disclosing the realities of her mental health conditions. In her 2008 memoir, Wishful Drinking, Fisher tells her life story with ease and wit, owning her status as “the poster child” for bipolar disorder, stating:
“One of the things that baffles me (and there are quite a few) is how there can be so much lingering stigma with regards to mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder. … At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.”
Celebrities of Fisher’s stature play an important role in destigmatizing mental health issues. Being outspoken about her struggles, as well as her successes, exemplifiesto many that being diagnosed with a mental illness doesn’t mean people should feel shame or silence themselves or that an individual can’t achieve success in any given field, although bad days may be present. While there is still a long way to go in removing the stigmas associated with mental illness, Fisher and others like her help pave the way for thoughtful discourse about mental health.
Danika Kimball is a musician from the Northwest who sometimes takes a 30-minute break from feminism to enjoy a TV show. You can follow her on twitter @sadwhitegrrl or on Instagram @drunkfeminist.
Let me begin by saying I’m queer-identified. I have trans* family, but it’s impossible for me to speak for trans* people of experience. I can share concepts, however. Too, my general line of thought in terms of sexuality, gender identity or personhood is that no matter how often your definition changes, you “are” what you tell me that you are.
“I refer to myself as gay, but I’m married to a man.”
I’m the One That I Want: Can Queer and Trans* Folks Really Reclaim the Word “Tranny?”
Let me begin by saying I’m queer-identified. I have trans* family, but it’s impossible for me to speak for trans* people of experience. I can share concepts, however. Too, my general line of thought in terms of sexuality, gender identity or personhood is that no matter how often your definition changes, you “are” what you tell me that you are.
Along with Stephen Fry, I feel that language and politically correct linguistic constructs can at times become as bullying, domineering and “victimizing” as those who claim to be victimized by language. What with people being as individualized and fluid as language is, sometimes experience does indeed trump the words we use to describe and protect it.
All Margaret Cho Everything
Margaret Cho (“Drop Dead Diva,” “I’m The One That I Want”) is as scrappy as she is electric.
She’s “scrappy” because she’s taken so much guff, sharing her multiple talents on and off-screen (she acts, sings, directs, writes, designs clothes, and is a walking-tattooed work of art and standout standup comic, for starters). Cho’s speech can transition from elegant purrs to lioness’ growls without hesitation. She’s electric because she sings the body electric: she’s sensual, naughty, flirtatious, often bawdy and ultimately playful.
If you’ve seen her comedy flick “I’m The One That I Want,” the efforting in her journey to long-term success is palpable. You get the sense she’s had to claw her way all the way up to the glass ceiling, brace herself with her back up, and kick the glass away with a pair of steel-toed Doc Martens just to disappear the whole damn thing. As she unfolds her own narrative in this cathartic and she-larious comedy film, we discover that now she’s not even in the friggin’ building. So, damn a glass ceiling anyhow.
Cho doesn’t “play the queer card” or the race card. Rather, she is always and forever queering play. She is queering entertainment. When cameras roll as you share minute details of your open relationship on morning chat shows, segue seamlessly into outing fellow celebs, put the world on notice that you will happily eff anything that moves as you like/when you like (just like men do), and always leave ‘em laughing…if anything, you could say Cho plays “the laugh card.”
Yes. We’re laughing. But to what end?
Well, they don’t call it “gender wars” just because.
Margaret Cho’s comedic M.O. doesn’t feel like a manipulation. Rather, it’s a weapon.
As she’s currently promoting her latest comedy project The MOTHER Tour, thoughts and themes come to mind about Margaret Cho’s presence in the world.
Yes, We Recruit: She’s All About Her Funny Business
Case in point: In Conan O’ Brien’s documentary Conan O’ Brien Can’t Stop, the uber-successful talk show host and fellow comedian makes it a point both to “ignore” and dismiss Margaret Cho. On film.
An ever-irrepressible social sharer and networker, Cho was waiting to have a little comedic kiki with O’Brien as he slunked away, cheating to camera as he let us know he had to ditch her because he didn’t “want to get Cho’d.”
This sarcastic film bit could have been classified as gag reel material if O’Brien hadn’t spent the rest of the film kiki’ing it up with cameos by Jim Carrey, John Hamm and Jon Stewart, along with his cast and crew. (He preferred to be Carrey’d Hamm’ed and Stewarted.)
No doubt, comedy is a cutthroat business: Cho and O’Brien still work together and socialize, but O’Brien’s production choice and life decision in his own docu-pic is a telling one. So-called avoidance and disgust is attraction’s twin. C’mon Conan, fess up! Fully-embodied and empowered women carry with them a transformative energy that cannot be controlled. People can often find that to be at-once infuriating and hot.
There’s Some Tranny Chasers Up In Here
“ A few words about ‘trannychasing.’ I am not a trannychaser. Ok, actually I am a trannychaser. No I am not. I am a trannycatcher! Just kidding!”
– Margaret Cho
As a self-confessed “tranny chaser,” Margaret Cho’s taken a good amount of flak for expressing her trans* chasing feelings and affirmative desires without too much apology. It’s a tough concept to think about, as she’s done so much brilliant work and she’s really been out there on the road, touring with Ani DiFranco and Lilith Fair, indie all the way for decades on end, fearlessly advocating for trans* and queer rights, feminist and race equality, and respect of her own in the entertainment industry.
Making Visibility Sexy
Ian Harvie and Margaret Cho – Promotional Photo by Kevin Neales
There’s no doubt Cho is sex positive (she’s on the Good Vibrations board, and her activist and fund-raising work is notable).
She is queer-identified and trans* inclusive: she directed the highly acclaimed “Young James Dean” video by Girlyman, featuring trans* peers and allies covering lyrics about coming up in the world as genderqueer.
Her comedy routines, filmic work, creative projects and writing boast a high trans* visibility ratio, including her clearing the floor for trans* folks, often guys, to speak and co-create with her. These men need to be mainstreamed, as success for trans* persons of experience is exceptionally important and more common than we’re led to believe. Trans* folks face harrowing odds when attempting to begin any new business or creative venture, even if that enterprise was something they’d become successful at and mastered pre-transition.
Community leaders and others have voiced concern about Cho’s humor and “tranny chaser” (or catcher) jokes and statements. Cho has formally explained her views, stating these are just jokes based on reverence and respect, and that people are taking things out of context—too seriously.
“Trans IS a legitimate gender” is one trans* man’s defense against such an idea, posited by Cho’s comedic peer and BFF, Ian Harvie. Harvie wrote, “ If you believe Transgender IS a legitimate gender, how can you argue that it’s wrong to eroticize Trans people? If you do not see Trans as a legitimate gender, then what’s wrong with you?! I’m Trans, I’m Butch, and identify as a Trans man, regardless of my given biological sex. I absolutely believe it’s okay to be attracted to, exoticize, fetishsize, and eroticize any and all Trans people. After all, a fetish is something that we desire or that turns us on.”
Too, RuPaul penned the song “Tranny Chaser” as a declaration of sexuality, desirability, and a playful take on the concept. “Do you wanna be me?” That’s how the song’s bridge begins. Fully aware of the seduction in the words, RuPaul goes on, “That don’t make you gay. Or do you wanna [beep] me? That don’t make you gay….”
It’s hard to laser-focus down to one “right take” on topics like trans* and queer sexuality when so many folks in-community with so many different experiences feel empowered by erotic aspects of being queer or trans* as well as desired. Other bloggers and commenters have called Cho’s tranny chaser phraseology disgusting. Meanwhile, she is blowing heteronormative minds open simply by sharing these concepts, matter-of-factly and without shame. No one has accused RuPaul of anything similar.
Seemingly pointless rhetorical questions arise: is it better to be vilified or romanticized? Dehumanized, or eroticized? If we’re all “in on the desire,” is it wrong? Is there a happy medium that requires no context or linguistic boundaries and protections when you’re speaking to heterosexual or heteronormative folks?
Cho grew up in San Francisco, which could better explain matters somewhat. In the City (at least in most LGBT circles), you are what you say you are. Period. Middle America doesn’t quite resonate with such a mindset (yet?).
Issues of class and power can’t be ignored. Though they all had challenging beginnings in their careers, now relatively better-paid or well-paid performers Cho’s, Harvie’s and RuPaul’s experiences differ by definition from that of a queer or trans* man or woman who doesn’t have the same means or sense of empowerment to feel okay leading with sexuality or identity. Harassment is much more difficult, to say the least, when you don’t have financial or social resources to work your way out of it or away from it.
When these issues and conundrums arise, I consider them to be a gift: because they grant us the opportunity to be honest with ourselves about them, regardless of political correctness.
We have to name and claim the final word(s) about our experience. We have to find our own ways to survive and to thrive in the world.
In an interview with Toofab, Stan Lee talked about upcoming Marvel Studios projects and answered a question about a female Marvel superhero getting her own movie with: “The thing is, the women like these movies as much as the guys. So we don’t have to knock ourselves out finding a female.” He added, with all the convincing commitment I infuse into my promises to do the dishes next time, “But… we will.”
Stan Lee with Scarlett Johansson
Stan Lee is 90, so I probably should cut him some slack on his grandpa-ly demeanor here. And he’s more of an historical figurehead than a creative power player at Marvel Studios, so maybe I shouldn’t put too much stock into what he says in an interview with a website I’ve never heard of.
But this quotation really melts my lipstick because it’s further proof there will always be excuses to not make movies about women. When women aren’t going to movies about dudes, the filmmakers say, “Oh, well, women aren’t really our target audience.” When women ARE going to movies about dudes, the filmmakers say, “Well, the women like it this way, so why change anything?” They’ve developed this convoluted system whereby the logical answer is always more movies about dudes, and they’ll never let it go.
It also bothers me that Lee’s “knock ourselves out” phrasing makes finding a woman superhero to make a movie about sound like a Herculean task, even though Marvel has no shortage of female characters to work with. Lee himself just casually mentioned the Black Widow as a likely candidate for her own movie, and no one had to be knocked out by that search, because she was THE CENTRAL CHARACTER of a movie made LAST YEAR which made ONE AND A HALF BILLION DOLLARS. Maybe he got knocked out by Captain Obvious’s Clue Stick?
Rebecca Traister’s Big Girls Don’t Cry looks at the 2008 election through a feminist lens and, (no surprise), focuses most on primary candidate Hillary Clinton, and later Sarah Palin. The book is, however, much more than just an analysis of the sexism these two women endured. Big Girls Don’t Cry looks at the ways in which the media itself was forced to adapt, particularly to Clinton’s historic run at the presidency. This book is an excellent, smartly written look back at gender politics in 2008. For me, it reopened wounds and ignited anger I felt during the election cycle, when I heard, time and again, painful misogynist commentary coming from our so-called liberal media. However, the book provides a kind of catharsis: if we can look back through Traister’s clear eye, maybe we — individuals and the collective — will change.
The book is especially incisive when discussing how the media — the news media and entertainment realm — itself had to change in reaction to the election, and provided several “Ah ha!” moments for me.
Here’s an excerpt from her chapter “Pop Culture Warriors”:
If Katie Couric was the nail in Sarah Palin’s vice-presidential coffin, the hammer was Tina Fey. Fey’s deadly impression of Palin was played out over half a dozen sketches for which Fey returned to Saturday Night Live, where she had been the first female head writer and where, in February, she made news with her comedic defense of Hillary Clinton, “Bitch is the new black.”
[…]
Fey’s take on Palin was serendipitous, prompted by the strong resemblance between the two women. But that likeness was part of what made it groundbreaking: a vice-presidential candidate looked like a famous comedian. A female comedian. And on it went. Hillary Clinton had been played by Poehler for several years. The interview that brought Palin low had been administered by Couric, a woman also played by Poehler. The vice-presidential debate had been moderated by Gwen Ifill, prompting a guest appearance by the inimitable Queen Latifah. Inasmuch as each of the impersonations relied on the amplification of feminine traits–Poehler/Couric’s heavily mascara’d and incessant blinking, Poehler/Hillary’s hyenic laugh, Fey/Palin’s sexy librarianism–in ways that might indeed be sexist or reductive, those characteristics were ripe for amplification only because the objects of political and media parody had high-pitched laughs and wore mascara and pencil skirts. The heightened femininity of Palin’s political persona also came in for examination; during the Couric-Palin sketch, Couric pointed out to a stumped Palin, “It seems to me that when cornered you become increasingly adorable.” That little one-liner, accompanied by Fey’s inspired shooting of fake finger guns, distilled a gender dynamic–wherein women infantilize themselves as a defensive strategy–it might otherwise take thousands of words to unspool.
[…]
But in comedy, as in real life, the arrival of Palin on the scene threw Clinton into a new focus. Next to Palin, Clinton’s good qualities–her brains, competence, work ethic, her belief in secular government and reproductive freedoms, her ability to complete sentences–became far more evident than they had been before there was another potential “first woman” to compare her to. Nothing conveyed these haze-clearing realignments of perspective as quickly and as firmly as Fey and Poehler did in five and a half minutes. The parodic depiction of the two women side by side exposed the complex dynamics of Palin’s parasitism, their unwilling symbiosis, and their stark differences.
Amber Leab isa Co-Founder and Editor of Bitch Flicks and a writer living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a Master’s degree in English & Comparative Literature from the University of Cincinnati and a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature & Creative Writing from Miami University. Outside of Bitch Flicks, her work has appeared in The Georgetown Review, on the blogs Shakesville, The Opinioness of the World, and I Will Not Diet, and at True Theatre.
Samhita Mukhopadhyay’s Outdated: Why Dating Is Ruining Your Love Life
I hate dating. I’m really bad at dating. I meet up with a dude, and I’m usually like “eh” after five minutes, ready to move on. I don’t suffer from a throwing-in-the-towel mentality of sorts, where I’m willing to settle for any dude, just for the sake of filling one of my many supposed obligations as a woman–Finally Finding Love. I’m more of an impossibly-high-standards dater, one who stares at the dude in front of her, like, “You’re obviously not a progressive feminist with a clear understanding of the ramifications the media has on the self-esteem of women and young girls, and you haven’t listed one single female musician or a woman-driven film in your endless list of ‘favorite things’ … so why don’t you get out of my face.” Right?! Bad. At. Dating.
So I bought Mukhopadhyay’s book to see if it could help me stop being horrible at dating; it definitely helped me think about dating in a different way.
She focuses on the sexist dating advice industry throughout the book, and she writes in the introduction that the book is about “conundrums and confusion; it’s about the contradicting messages we get from popular culture, feminism, our social circles, politics, and the romance industry. It’s about charting trends in how women and men are talked about in the media; it’s about pointing out hypocrisy, and it’s about dealing with a world that is still reliant on antiquated ideas of gender.”
I found the book most helpful for me, however, in its discussion of finding The One. We live in a culture that obsesses over the idea of The One. The film industry especially pushes it (usually upon women) in the Romantic Comedy aka “chick flick” genre. I personally didn’t realize how much I (feminist! media critic! blogger! constant reader of the feminist blogosphere!) had actually internalized these messages until I read Mukhopadhyay’s book. Turns out, when you go into every date subconsciously ready to decide within five minutes if this person is The One, then you’re probably going to end up with a fuckload of first dates … without too many second or third or fourth dates with the same person.
She also points out that the portrayals of single women in film and television often make single ladies look like total losers, which is also difficult to not internalize (even for someone who spends most of her free time critiquing media representations of women). Conundrums and confusion, indeed! Overall, the book shines a light on the dilemma of Dating While Feminist, and I encourage all daters to read it, even if you don’t necessarily consider yourself a Feminist, and even if you’re not as awful at dating as I am.
One of the most important aspects of the book deals with exactly what we deal with at Bitch Flicks–how pop culture, especially film and television, works to perpetuate stereotypes and help maintain the status quo … while also making me a shitty dater (if I haven’t yet made that clear).
I’ll leave you with the following excerpt. Because it’s important to always keep an eye out for this bullshit. After all, knowing it exists is the only way to fight against it! #realtalk
Television is a reflection of our cultural norms at a given time, so it makes sense that during the ’60s and ’70s–a time of cultural revolution where the very definitions of family, sexuality, relationships, and femininity were being pushed–women were written as living comfortable, fun lives as single women who engaged in sex when they wanted it and often opted out of long-term relationships. Laverne & Shirley, at the height of its viewership, was the most watched sitcom in the United States, surpassing Happy Days, which is shocking considering its often serious and feminist themes. Laverne & Shirley took on unplanned pregnancy, sex before marriage, and workplace equality.
[…]
If we look to the sitcoms of today, we see weaker depictions of women dominating the tubes. We see women who are smaller in stature, more neurotic, confused, wishy-washy, and often dysfunctional. There are few sitcoms about single women even on the airwaves today, actually. But think of the leading ladies in sitcoms, from Everybody Loves Raymond to The King of Queens; both Debra and Carrie represent good, faithful (and hot) wives. And while the plotline shows they are often the ones in charge, their story lines are secondary to their goofy, irresponsible, “bro-ish” husbands. While these characters’ behavior could be chalked up to the shows being satirical or humorous, there is a noticeable difference between how women and their romantic relationships have been represented over the decades.
Similarly, if we are to look at the representation of single black women even from the ’90s to the new millennium, a quick comparison of 227 and Living Single to Girlfriends shows you how differently actresses are cast today. Earlier shows cast black women of varying sizes, skin tones, and hairstyles, whereas more recent shows seem to only cast thinner black women with straighter hair and more Caucasian features. Let’s just acknowledge that you don’t turn on the TV and see a great actress like Esther Rolle these days (unless you’re watching The Biggest Loser).
[…]
Popular television has changed, but what has entered the public domain are new caricatures of femininity that play to our most regressive stereotypes of how single women should think, talk, and act. And while reality TV is supposed to be “real,” the images of single women have only gotten less real. According to reality TV, all single women want to get married and their lives are meaningless without this milestone, despite any personal or professional successes they might have seen. This has closed up any real possibilities for characterizations of single women as anything but failing at the dream of romance.
Without any question, Buffy revolutionized the role of women on television, more even than Mary Tyler Moore or Cagney and Lacey or Murphy Brown or Ally McBeal. If you look at female heroes (as opposed to hapless heroines–I have always thought that the definition of heroine should be “endangered female in need of rescue by male hero”) in the history of TV, you will be astonished at how few there are prior to the nineties. You have Annie Oakley in the fifties and Emma Peel on The Avengers in the sixties, and to a degree Wonder Woman (who spent a great deal of her time worrying about impressing her boss Col. Steve Trevor) and The Bionic Woman (the weaker spin off to The Six Million Dollar Man). This all changed in the nineties, first with Dana Scully on The X-Files and then with Xena. But the former, as competent as she was as an FBI professional, was not sufficiently iconic to change TV, while the latter, sufficiently iconic, was too cartoonish to inspire future female heroes. Buffy was the turning point. You can write the history of female heroes on TV as Before Buffy and After Buffy. It is not a coincidence that most of the female heroes on TV arose in the wake of the little blonde vampire slayer. Look at the roster: Aeryn Sun (Farscape), Max (Dark Angel), Sydney Bristow (Alias), Kate Austin (Lost), Kara “Starbuck” Thrace (along with a plethora of other strong women on Battlestar Galactica), Olivia Dunham (Fringe), Sarah Connor and Cameron (Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles), Veronica Mars, and an almost uncountable number of lesser characters. Buffy made TV safe for strong women. This isn’t art, but it is the content of art. Buffy guaranteed that TV as art would make a place for heroic women.
While I recognize that we can go back and forth for the end of time about whether Buffy (the show and the character) is feminist or antifeminist, I think we can at least agree that the simple statement “Buffy made TV safe from strong women” is pretty compelling and hard to entirely disagree with.
My seven-year-old niece Sophia visited me recently in New York. When it was bedtime, and we were browsing through Netflix to find something to watch before we went to sleep, she wanted Buffy. The next day when we woke up, she immediately asked if we could watch Buffy while we ate breakfast. When we got home from New York sightseeing, she wanted Buffy. We skipped many of the violent, scarier episodes (“Hush,” anyone?), but she loved watching Buffy save her friends and fellow high school students by destroying monsters with her bare hands.
Now Sophia takes Taekwondo. She showed me some of her moves the last time I saw her, and said, “I bet I’ll be able to kick as much butt as Buffy soon, maybe more!”
I don’t want to get bogged down about how it sucks in a way that Buffy’s ability comes exclusively from superpowers. I get that, and I could write about it endlessly, but in this moment, I don’t care because Sophia doesn’t care. She watches Buffy and sees a woman who kicks ass, and she wants to emulate that. It’s tough to over-analyze and intellectualize a TV show when you’re watching a young girl practice roundhouse kicks because she wants to be a strong badass like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And I have to say, it’s much more heartwarming to see her excited about becoming a strong woman with martial arts skills than it was to watch her pretend she couldn’t speak–because she wanted to be Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
Emma Stone in Teen Vogue, August 2012; photographed by Josh Olins
It’s no surprise sexism permeates the media. Women are constantly judged and praised for their beauty and appearance. Not their merit, intellect or accomplishments. This incessant importance on women’s appearances over their talent reduces us to objects.
As I perused my Pinterest feed last week, I came across a picture courtesy of Upworthy of Emma Stone calling out sexism. Could it be? Is Stone a secret feminist?? I had to investigate.
In its August 2012 issue, Teen Vogue conducted a joint interview with Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield to promote The Amazing Spider-Man (Sidebar, do we really need a Spider-Man reboot?? How about a Wonder Woman or Catwoman film first…ugh). After the interviewer inquired, “Emma, I have to ask about your hair color,” Stone talked about how she preferred being a blonde because it’s the hair color she possessed as a child. But then here’s where things get awesome.
Emma Stone:But people do always ask that. They ask who is my style icon, what’s the one thing that I can’t leave my house without. I’m always like, “My clothes!” I can pretty much leave without anything.It’s fine as long as I’m not naked.
Andrew Garfield:I don’t get asked that—
Emma Stone:You get asked interesting, poignant questions because you are a boy.
Teen Vogue:It’s sexism.
Emma Stone:It is sexism.
Women and men getting asked different questions strictly based on their gender? Yep, it sure is sexism.
I already knew Stone was pretty fab. In addition to her hilarious public appearances at the Emmys and the Oscars, she’s a funny and talented actor. The same woman who convinced her parents to let her move to Hollywood with a power point presentation seizes the moment to point out sexist gender disparities in the media. What makes her astute comment even better? She calls out sexism in a fashion magazine…for young women.
At first glance, it seems to make sense fashion and beauty magazines would ask celebs questions belonging to the realm of fashion, hair, cosmetics, diet and exercise. I mean that’s their job, right? So why do I care that Stone — or any celeb — is constantly asked about her hair color or her style icon? What’s the big deal?
The media constantly dissects, critiques and polices women’s bodies. Men don’t face the same bombardment of scrutiny. This sexist double standard perpetuates the notion that men lead while women serve as objects of beauty.
As much as I love clothes, fashion and beauty magazines can wreak havoc on women’s and girls’ self-esteem and body image. According to Miss Representation, “3 out of 4 teen girls feel depressed, guilty and shameful after spending 3 minutes leafing through a fashion magazine.” But beauty and diet questions aren’t merely relegated to fashion and fitness magazines. Mainstream media outlets obsessively ask women these questions too.
At a press conference for The Avengers a few months ago, Scarlett Johansson exhibited her exasperation at the way the media treats women differently than men. Johansson’s co-star Robert Downey Jr. received a lengthy, “interesting and existential question” about Iron Man’s growth and maturity, which would have allowed him to talk about his inspiration, motivation and talent. What question did this same reporter ask Johansson? She was asked about what food she ate…another sexist diet question.
A reporter for Extra also interrogated Johansson about the underwear she wore under her svelte Black Widow suit and Anne Hathaway about her diet and exercise regimen to fit into the slinky Catwoman costume — while he asked their male co-stars about the films and their characters.
The media treats men as complex, introspective artists while simultaneously reducing women to objects, only interrogating them about their hair color, clothing, diet, and fitness regimens. The message is clear: women’s talent and intellect don’t really matter. Only their outer beauty and thinness matters.
Thankfully, we’ve also witnessed Ashley Judd, Meryl Streep, Zoe Saldana, Scarlett Johansson, Anne Hathaway (in an albeit subtle way), Sarah Polley, Rashida Jones and now Emma Stone calling out sexism — objectification, body policing and double standards — in the media and Hollywood. Teens have also started speaking out with petitions against Seventeen and Teen Vogue to cease photoshopping and increase images of diversity. We need more people — women and men — denouncing misogyny and sexism. Only then can we hope to attain equality.
Hollywood, like the rest of society, is far from gender equitable. Female actors earn far less than their male colleagues. Only 33% of speaking roles belong to women. Women write only 10% and direct a mere 7% of the 250 top grossing domestic films. We don’t see nearly enough complex women on-screen as too many films revolve around white dudes. All of these abysmal stats coinciding with the media’s rampant objectification, misogyny and sexism strip women and girls of their power.
With Teen Vogue’s huge readership, who knows…maybe young women will read Stone’s interview, see the discussion of sexism and start questioning the gender disparities in the media’s depiction of women. Maybe Stone’s comment will help catalyze change. Hey, a woman can dream.
Okay, it’s time for this week’s feminist film question! Huzzah! We asked you: What are your favorite quotes from women-centric films? Here’s what you said:
“Get away from her you bitch.” — Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), Aliens
“Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.” — Margo Channing (Bette Davis), All About Eve
The whole universe depends on everything fitting together just right. If one piece busts, even the smallest piece… the whole universe will get busted.” — Hushpuppy (Quvenzhane Wallis), Beasts of the Southern Wild “When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me flying around in invisible pieces.” — Hushpuppy (Quvenzhane Wallis), Beasts of the Southern Wild “I want my freedom.” — Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald), Brave
“I’m life, Annie, and I’m biting you in the ass.” Megan (Melissa McCarthy), Bridesmaids
“All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy. I had to fight my uncles. I had to fight my brothers. A girl child ain’t safe in a family of men, but I ain’t never thought I’d have to fight in my own house!” — Sofia (Oprah Winfrey), The Color Purple
“What you have to do is lose your reputation, then you can do whatever the hell you want.” — Función de noche
“Please, please, please give me back my pleasure.” — sung at the very beginning of Sally Potter’s The Gold Diggers
“As God is my witness, they’re not going to lick me. I’m going to live through this and when it’s all over, I’ll never be hungry again.” — Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh), Gone with the Wind
“After all, tomorrow is another day!” — Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh), Gone with the Wind
“We’re legitimate citizens. We’re taxed without representation. We’re not allowed to serve on juries so we’re not tried by our peers. It’s unconscionable, not to mention unconstitutional. We don’t make the laws but we have to obey them like children.” — Alice Paul (Hilary Swank), Iron Jawed Angels
“I am sitting here in my own house, minding my own business, playing my own piano.” — Vienna (Joan Crawford), Johnny Guitar
“Hi, my name’s Mae and that’s more than a name, that’s an attitude” — Mae Mordabito (Madonna), A League of Their Own
“You tell ol’ rich Mr. Old Chocolate Man that he ain’t closing ME down!” — Mae Mordabito (Madonna), A League of Their Own
“Feminine weaknesses and fainting spells are the direct result of our confining young girls to the house, bent over their needlework, and restrictive corsets.” — Marmee (Susan Sarandon), Little Women
“I find it poor logic to say that because women are good, women should vote. Men do not vote because they are good; they vote because they are male, and women should vote, not because we are angels and men are animals, but because we are human beings and citizens of this country.” — Jo March (Winona Ryder) Little Women
“Don’t be such a beetle! I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.” — Jo March (Winona Ryder), Little Women
“I am no MAN!” — Eowyn (Miranda Otto), Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
“I thought I was headed to a place that would turn out tomorrow’s leaders, not their wives!” — Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts), Mona Lisa Smile
“Not all who wander are aimless. Especially not those who seek truth beyond tradition, beyond definition, beyond the image.” — Betty Warren (Kirsten Dunst), Mona Lisa Smile
“My spirit takes journey, my spirit takes flight, could not have risen otherwise and I am not running, I am choosing. Running is not a choice from the breaking. Breaking is freeing, broken is freedom. I am not broken, I am free.” — Alike (Adepero Oduye), Pariah
“Once, there was this day… this one day when… everyone realized they needed each other.” — April Burns (Katie Holmes), Pieces of April
“I’m gonna break through or somebody gonna break through to me.” — Clareece ‘Precious’ Jones (Gabourey Sidibe), Precious “Some folks has a lot of things around them that shines for other peoples. I think that maybe some of them was in tunnels. And in that tunnel, the only light they had, was inside of them. And then long after they escape that tunnel, they still be shining for everybody else.” — Clareece ‘Precious’ Jones (Gabourey Sidibe), Precious
“If you cant say something nice abt someone, come sit beside me.” — Clairee Belcher (Olympia Dukakis), Steel Magnolias
“Construct your autobiography before someone does it for you.” — Barbara Hammer, Tender Fictions
“You do know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow.” Marie ‘Slim’ Browning (Lauren Bacall), To Have and Have Not
“Sometimes you have to create your own history.” — Cheryl Dunye (Cheryl), The Watermelon Woman
“Except my name. I’ll give up all that other stuff, but only if I get to keep my name. I’ve worked to hard for it, your honor.” — Tina Turner (Angela Bassett), What’s Love Got to Do With It? “I’m ready. I’m ready and I know what I want.” — Tina Turner (Angela Bassett), What’s Love Got to Do With It?
“I’ll have what she’s having.” — When Harry Met Sally…
“Well, put some skates on, be your own hero.” — Maggie Mayhem (Kristen Wiig), Whip It
What your fave film quotes? Tell us in the comments!
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Each week we tweet a new question and then post your answers on our site each Friday! To participate, just follow us on Twitter at @BitchFlicks and use the Twitter hashtag #feministfilm.
Manifesta by Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards
I’ve been reading the 10th anniversary edition of Jennifer Baumgardner’s and Amy Richards’ Manifesta: Young Women, Feminism, and the Future, which was first published in 2000 and revised in 2010. One chapter in particular struck me, and in honor of Mother’s Day this past Sunday–and our upcoming theme on Motherhood, starting Monday (yay!)–I’d like to excerpt from the chapter, “Thou Shalt Not Become Thy Mother.”
The authors discuss the generational divide between mothers and daughters and the tension that often exists because mothers (within the past generation) raised children “with some hint of feminism in the air.” Their young daughters today, though, struggle to avoid becoming like their mothers. Here are two excerpts from the chapter that delve into that theme in greater detail:
Many daughters are scared of falling prey to the indignities we witnessed our mothers suffer. This fear is a challenge to younger feminists. Young women should understand where that fear comes from, rather than simply avoiding it. Unwrapping motherhood from the swaddles of patriarchy means that we will no longer have to work so hard to be different from our mothers.
As it is, we are more likely to notice what our mothers are doing wrong than what they are doing right. We notice if Dad treats Mom like shit, if homemaking appears to be a fake job, or if Mom worked outside the home and was never there to ask us about our day. We may think that when Dad does “Mom’s chores”–picking us up or doing the dishes or cooking–he’s a hero. We notice if we look to Dad for decision making, and to Mom for love and comfort and mending. If the marriage falls apart, we notice if Mom doesn’t know how to write checks, or dates jerks, or if her lifestyle becomes markedly poorer. We notice the passive-aggressive ways that she may work around powerlessness: the boyfriends she takes on to escape her unhappy marriage, the guilt trips, or the migraine headaches that befall her just before the guests arrived every holiday. Throughout or lives, we make mental notes, and swear on our mothers’ lives not to let that happen to us or do what they did. This includes the most trivial sins: we’ll never embarrass our kids, we’ll never have our hair done every Friday at the same time, we’ll never have a comfy-but-ugly outfit that we change into every day after work.
Our expectations of our dads are so much lower than our expectations of moms that dads don’t get such a bad rap from their daughters. We also let them off the hook because their lives appear more liberated–more like how daughters are told their lives should be. (pages 208-209)
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One True Thing, a Hollywood tearjerker based on a novel by Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Anna Quindlen, successfully analyzed this generational repulsion. In this 1998 film, Renee Zellweger portrayed an ambitious New York City journalist, Ellen Gulden, who returns to her suburban home to care for her terminally ill mother. “The one thing I never wanted to do was live my mother’s life,” Ellen says. “And there I was doing it.” Meryl Streep, as Kate, zaftig and radiant in the housewife role, throws elaborate theme parties and makes a tabletop mosaic from her broken dishes. Creative and delightful as she is, Kate’s domestic achievements are nada compared to the father’s life as a sought-after English professor and would-be novelist (portrayed by William Hurt). After walking many miles (and scrubbing many toilets) in her mother’s shoes, Ellen learns that her mother’s accomplishments–her ability to bring the community together and make her family comfortable–far surpass her father’s inflated dreams of his own literary importance.
“You spend all of your life thinking about what you don’t have, and you have so much,” Kate warns her puffy-eyed ungrateful daughter just before she dies. In that moment, any daughter might be shocked (as we were) into recognizing that we view our mothers in light of what we think they lack–youthful looks, brilliant careers, respectful husbands–not what they have. Finally, Ellen learns that her mother has actually chosen and fulfilled with joy the very life that Ellen had learned to disdain. The film isn’t a call to join a kaffeeklatsch community group or bake up a storm as a one-way ticket to feminine authenticity. It’s a warning to mothers and daughters to take a clear-eyed look at each other, rather than stealing glances and making notes about what not to do. One True Thing teases out a feminist challenge: to understand the choices our mothers made, knowing they were made in a context we will never experience. For mothers, the challenge is to realize that their daughters came of age in an entirely different era, one that makes their lives fundamentally different. (pages 213-214)
Equality now! Over the last few years, we’ve seen Kevin James paired with Rosario Dawson, Seth Rogen paired with Anna Faris, Jack Black paired with Amanda Peet, Vince Vaughn paired with Malin Akerman… and so the list goes on. In the interests of balance, I’d like to see a lithe, stunningly attractive man paired with an averagely schlubby, heavy-set funny woman in a mainstream comedy. I think what I’m saying is that my wish for 2012 is to see Melissa McCarthy from “Bridesmaids” get it on with Ryan Gosling in a knockabout romcom.
Back in 2010, guest writer Molly McCaffrey wrote about this double standard in her piece Holy Hypocrisy: Couples Retreat, but it’s a phenomenon that started a long time ago and that shows no sign of letting up. We, too, would love to see McCarthy paired with Gosling–or any reversal of the knockout-with-the-schlub trope.
However, would it be a neat reversal, or would the pairing itself be played for laughs? One could argue that the film couples Bray and McCaffrey mention are already being played for laughs, but this is never a central joke in the movie/TV show. And, when a joke is so familiar it certainly loses its punch…so that argument isn’t very convincing.
What two actors would you like to see paired in a comedy this year?
P.S. Thanks to reader Em for pointing this out to us! Be sure to read the whole article…
Last weekend, I attended a birthday party for all three of my nieces. My 5-year-old niece Chloe became very excited when she opened a present that turned out to be a baby doll. I didn’t understand why this particular doll was so special until she showed me … this doll poops and pees when you feed it! Yay! This doll is one of the many versions of the Baby Alive doll and is exclusively marketed to young girls in a creepy 1950s way. I don’t doubt that Chloe saw a commercial for this and begged for Baby Alive for her birthday, and who doesn’t want to make a kid happy on her birthday? But this doll upset me. Chloe and her little sister Penelope became obsessed. They kept feeding this thing some disgusting-looking green “food” that immediately leaked out of a circular hole where a vagina should be, thereby queuing Baby Alive’s “mommy” to change the doll’s diaper. (When Chloe and Penelope ran out of the tiny diapers that came with the doll, they started using their own diapers, which was the most hilarious and awesome part of my Baby Alive experience.)
I talk to my nieces about feminism as often as I can. I don’t call it “feminism,” (yet) but we certainly talk about feminism. They know I’m adamant in my refusal to buy them anything Barbie, and they know they’ll end up with at least one book and/or movie about Girls Being Awesome whenever they open presents from Aunt Stephanie. (I’m also a huge fan of playing dinosaurs with them; their collection rocks, and one of my favorite all-time aunt experiences was playing dinosaurs with Chloe when she insisted that I let her use frozen grapes as their pillows when she put them to bed. Everything got fairly wet and messy after about ten minutes of that weird/amazing shit.) So even though I’m all about discussing with them the airbrushing techniques used on magazine covers, or insisting that we watch Kiki’s Delivery Service instead of the boy-helmed Toy Story 3, or reading Sojourner Truth’s Step-Stomp Stride in favor of any male-dominated Dr. Seuss book, I didn’t know quite what the hell to say about Baby Alive.
Except that this gender indoctrination–specifically aimed at children–isn’t getting better; in fact, with the media’s increased venues from which to market their products (television, internet, advertisements all over the damned place) I see it worsening. The documentary film The Corporation lets us in on some terrifying secrets about how marketers and advertisers view the children’s market–and it’s fucking sociopathic. (It’s quite an apopro issue to look at, too, in light of the Occupy movement.) All in all, my struggle to accept Baby Alive reminded me of an essay I read a few years ago from the book, Action Chicks: New Images of Tough Women in Popular Culture, edited by Sherrie A. Inness. She writes an awesome essay in the book called, “‘It’s a Girl Thing’: Tough Female Action Figures in the Toy Store.” As one might imagine, the chapter focuses on the absence and even exclusion of the tough female action figure and takes on the idea of gender-typing.
One place where gender-typing is most vivid is the baby doll section, filled with baby dolls that drink bottles of formula, crawl, talk, wet their diapers, and cry until pacified. They are marketed and targeted at an audience of girls. None of the packages shows boys taking care of the dolls; the boxes display beaming, blissfully happy girls rocking their crying “babies” to sleep. In this realm, it is clear who is supposed to care for children. Despite the tremendous strides that women have made in society and the greater freedoms they now experience, this gender stereotyping of dolls has changed slowly in recent decades. Karen Klugman writes, “For all that some members of society advance notions of empowering women and making responsible caregivers of men, girls’ collections of dolls reinforce the traditional female preoccupation with physical appearance and homemaking, while the boys’ collections embody conflict and superhuman power.” She continues, our “childhood experience with fantasy play remains forever segregated into bride side and groom side.” Countless toys, including baby dolls and army soldiers, are resistant to change, perpetuating gender roles that seem to have changed little since the 1950s.
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The traditional gender roles that children are usually immersed in when young remain lurking in their psyches as they mature. Although a boy might not want to become a gun-toting G.I. Joe when he grows up or a girl a mall-hopping Barbie, those gender roles influence how children and adults construct their identities, even if they choose to question or reject such stereotyped roles. Also, this stereotyping proves remarkably durable in mainstream American society, where millions assume that females are responsible for child care and males for warfare. Myriad forces shape such stereotypes, but toys are one of the earliest and most influential for young children. Thus, action figures–and all toys from board games to baby dolls–deserve more scholarly scrutiny to tease out their gendered messages. If we are to understand how girls and boys mature into adults, we must explore the process through toys.
I wholeheartedly agree. Our theme week for November will be Animated Films (stay tuned for our Call for Writers), and this gender-typing extends to films and television targeted at children, too. The Geena Davis Institute for Gender in Media is all over that–check them out if you haven’t already.
In The B-Word? You Betcha., published in the Washington Post in 2007, Andi Zeisler, co-founder of Bitch Magazine, discussed the choice of title for the magazine and the cultural significance of the word “bitch.” The piece was published during the 2008 Democratic primary, when the term was routinely applied to candidate Hillary Clinton, as a term of derision and as a compliment (Tina Fey’s Saturday Night Live Weekend Update segment comes to mind, in which she declared “bitch is the new black” and “bitches get things done”). Still, the word remains controversial, and one that many people choose not to embrace. With respect to those people, we do embrace the term.
Here’s Zeisler on the word “bitch:”
People want to know whether it is still a bad word. They want to know whether I support its use in public discourse. Or they already think it’s a bad word and want to discuss whether its use has implications for free speech or sexual harassment or political campaigns.
[…]
So here goes: Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn’t respond to men’s catcalls or smile when they say, “Cheer up, baby, it can’t be that bad.” We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn’t apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation.
So let’s not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we’ve done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine — and sees uncompromising speech by women as anathema to a tidy, well-run world.
by Rebecca Traister
