Rachel Redfern – Page 6

Strong Boy/Smart Girl: Another Hollywood Trope in ‘The Bourne Legacy’

Jeremy Renner and Rachel Weisz in The Bourne Legacy

The division of labor exists with impunity in the fine world of the Hollywood action movie, a genre that I do occasionally enjoy. Hollywood’s latest action film, The Bourne Legacy, is a continuation of the atmospheric, amnesiac thriller that originally starred Matt Damon. The new version with Jeremy Renner (Hurt Locker) doesn’t stick Renner in as the next Jason Bourne (thank goodness—this is not Batman or James Bond), but adds a new super assassin for us to chase throughout the world, while riding some rickety mode of transportation.

Renner jumps off of buildings, waterfalls, climbs mountains, wrestles wolves and basically does everything that would ever make you feel self-conscious about your own athleticism; He is offset by Rachel Weisz as the brilliant scientist who knows everything about anatomy, psychology, biology, but can’t really throw a punch.

Enter in the standard action movie plot and character trope: A very strong, good-looking guy with mad survival skills is thrown together, by some mutual need, with a beautiful and intelligent, slightly nervous smart girl who has perfect hair. These two will originally struggle with mistrust and some playful bickering before realizing their mutual respect and lust and getting together, thereby becoming the perfect team of strong boy and smart girl.

Some examples to help illustrate my point: The Saint, Batman Begins, Superman and feel free to just queue up the James Bond music as that’s the plot for every single Bond movie ever made (although, to be fair, in a Bond movie one of the girls will turn out to be an evil kickass).

Val Kilmer and Elizabeth Shue in The Saint

I can think of exceptions to this rule, but in those cases it’s usually the sort of the guy who holds all the chips: Spiderman (let’s be honest MJ was never particularly bright) but Peter Parker is brilliant and strong, Ironman (nothing wrong with Pepper Potts, she’s pretty much a layer of good, uptight, responsibility—girl style), yet Tony Stark is, of course, a genius and strong (though he has a weak heart so I suppose that equals the field or something).

The point is not to make you hate your favorite action movies and neither is this trope all-encompassing; there are dozens of exceptions and variations of the boy/girl thrown together action plot. Rather, the point is a much more fundamental question I’ve been considering lately: inequality in romantic relationships. Now, I’m not complaining about making women smart in movies, I think it’s great. I mean no one wants to see that annoying chick in The Princess Bride, Buttercup, who does absolutely nothing the whole movie but look nice. Female characters who are smart (or who perhaps represent the tough girl switch where the girl is strong and the boy is smart like in How to Train your Dragon) are interesting and (somewhat) multi-dimensional, but why does it have to be divided so transparently even?

Contradictions in character are what make characters relate-able and engaging. Again, this is not a campaign for bringing back Buttercup or making women completely smart and tough all the time in all the movies, because well, that’s just not good film-making since film is about people and everyone is different. What I’d just like to see is some variation, less of an oh-so-obvious split down the middle….perhaps, fewer tropes and more people? Specifically, I’d like to see some variation in the portrayal of women in action movies. It’s a great genre, full of adrenalin and good times, why can’t women reflect that while still being original?

Having people be so completely well matched is unrealistic. And not that a super assassin (who just also happens to be super trustworthy and great boyfriend material) running all over the world with a sexy scientist is a realistic situation, but the people in that situation are supposed to be realistic-like, as is their relationship. Why must it be that either the two characters hang there in completely balance to each other, ‘I’m smart, I contribute” and “I’m strong, I contribute” or one is at the top carrying everything, while the other lags along at the bottom just brushing their hair and making us sad?

I’ve read a few things that suggest that some people believe that heroines have overwhelmingly ascended to the top of the action movie pile; that they’re so cool that mean can’t keep up anymore. Please, just look at this year’s action movie selection to realize that’s not true. But what is true is that a lot of characters in mainstream action movies are still falling short of accurate character portrayals and stepping outside of the plot box.

Now, granted, did I enjoy the movie? Yes. Could it have been better? Yes. Are there examples of interesting, more human based characters in action movies? Yes, (I actually think the original Bourne movies do a great job of that). Does Hollywood need to do a little better in it’s portrayal of women and actually give them a unique personality? YES.

The Four Mothers of ‘Hanna’

Saoirse Ronan as Hanna

This independent film came and went and while a few friends mentioned it, I didn’t seem to read too much about it, a shame because the film offers a lot for a feminist viewers (Bechdel win!) in it’s portrayal of female friendship, Hanna’s coming of age, a female action hero and an interesting Cate Blanchette as the villain. While the story revolves around a familiar plot of revenge and CIA subterfuge, the screenwriter, Seth Lochhead, always intended for the film to feature elements of fairy tales, specifically the darkness that is featured in any morality tale.

Hanna is certainly suited to a Grimm fairytale ambiance; Saoirse Ronan (Hanna) is cursed with special gifts and raised by her vengeance-fueled father in a faraway land. There is a wicked witch (Cate Blanchette) who cursed her with her special abilities and who must be destroyed, Hanna’s father (Eric Bana) must then push his daughter out into the world to fulfill her cursed destiny, during which time Hanna will ultimately grow up and discover the truth about her mother.

Specifically, it was the portrayal of parents, mothers especially, that I found really interesting in the film. There are three mothers portrayed, Hanna’s mother, Hanna’s grandmother, and the mother of Hanna’s friend (Olivia Williams), all of which are shown to be absent mothers to their daughters.

Motherhood is tricky in Hollywood; films about the subject usually involve a lot of tears and yelling and misunderstandings. It’s understandable, this confusion over the topic, since there is no definitive model of what a perfect mother would look like; however, there is usually one characteristic that we do all seem to seek in our perfect mother: her presence. I can name dozens of films that feature the absent mother: perhaps she is dead, or ill, or a drug addict, or even (gasp) the clichéd, power-hungry career woman.

In the case of Hanna, there are other forces that drive mothers and daughters apart; for Hanna’s mother, it’s her unwanted pregnancy and then later, her involvement in a top-secret government program (which is just a more complicated version of the guilty mother trying to give her kid a better life plot). Hanna’s mother ultimately fails in this task though; all her attempts to “make her baby special” (enter fairytale queen asking the witch for some special gifts for her kid) leads to Hanna’s cursed nature (abnormal abilities) and itinerant loneliness. Hanna is so lonely that she follows around a traveling family, amazed at their family life and obviously longing for the things she cannot understand.

Olivia Williams plays the ultimate bohemian mother; her fifteen year-old daughter is given leave to run around Europe on the back of a moped with a few boys she met at the pool. This sentence alone would probably give my mother a heart attack. Williams believes so wholly in the purity of independence that she allows her entitled daughter complete and total rein, even allowing her to engage in activities, which could be harmful. Yet Williams still considers herself to be a maternal protective figure in her choice to take in Hanna, believing her to need some parenting (of which she doesn’t seem to do much). In the end however, despite her daughters friendship with Hanna and her own desire to help her, William’s character closes off their family to Hanna, pushing her away yet again from another mother figure.

Hanna’s grandmother is a different kind of woman, solid and gentle, who longs to know where her granddaughter is and whether she is safe. She is so pure and innocent in her serene motherhood that she allows herself to be killed, rather than reveal any information about her granddaughter’s whereabouts. It’s a powerful scene of what I imagine we think of for ideal motherhood: self-sacrifice and love.

Cate Blanchette as Marissa Weigler

Cate Blanchette, who plays the villain, in a way even struck me as a type of mother, which could be read in one of two ways. Either she’s no mother at all—the anti-mother if you will, the woman who is negative mother space in that she considers the progeny which she helped to create to be disposable tools. Or perhaps she is instead the great mother figure who tries so hard to control her children, to mold them into her image that she ultimately destroys them or must be destroyed.

Startlingly, in order for Hanna to thrive, all of her mothers must die, forcing her to experience extreme independence. After which she crosses over into her own womanhood, freed from the four women whose influence has controlled her life.

The intended morality of this dark fairy tale was not that mothers should be killed, however the intersection of independence, self-discovery and loneliness was pivotal for Hanna to grow up and discover her self.

This is only one facet of the film though; the film almost reads like a backpackers love song to Europe, exploring the little known and “off the track” places in much of Southern Europe. As a bonus, look for Tom Hollander (of the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy) as a brilliantly creepy, Eurotrash thugs, all whilst wearing absurdly small shorts.

The Dark Side of ‘The Dark Knight Rises’

Warning: Spoilers ahead!!

So I’m writing this movie review with a lot of spoilers, because well, according to my Facebook newsfeed, everyone’s already seen it. But even if you have seen it already, you’re probably desperately longing for my insightful commentary of the film; I mean, how else will you know what to think of it?

No one here is going to deny that Christopher Nolan has managed to take the superhero movie to a whole other level: the characters have far more complexity, a hell of a lot less campy lines, and a darker, grittier setting than the more upbeat Marvel comics. Even the fight scenes in this Batman film had a visceral heaviness to them, with each punch sounding so thick and weighty, you could just feel the epic-ness pounding you from the screen.

My praise for Nolan as a filmmaker however comes mostly from his dealings with evil. Most directors have laughable Lokis (The Avengers) and shapeless Sinestros (The Green Lantern) whose overwrought motivations and plans for world domination just get more tiresome with every rendition. The genius behind Nolan’s villains is in how he makes them insidious by how fascinating we find them, exploring that ever-present possibility of the darker side of humanity is so psychologically interesting that we can’t turn away. For example, Heath Ledger’s Joker was infamously brilliant and is, I think, the best superhero villian, given that his motivation was just “wanting to watch the world burn,” and it felt so…seductive.

In a similar vein, Bane was inscrutable and intense; it wasn’t about some in-your-face world domination or strawman plot of blowing up the moon. Bane’s motivations are completely hidden until the last ten minutes of the movie. And that’s the draw. That’s why we keep watching. And in the last few minutes, when we learn that motivation, it was so simple, so seemingly counter to his character, that you couldn’t help but pity him. That motivation was of course love, and it was humanizing, equalizing even.

I feel a little bad bringing up the human fascination with darkness and villains in the aftermath of the tragic shootings in Aurora, Colorado, but as with anything, it has become a media event, one where we desperately want to know the motivation of the killer. As humans we seek that casualty in those we consider perverted and ill in an attempt to validate our own humanity.

Besides the characters, the plot eerily parallels the current economic climate in the United States, looking basically like the occupy movement on crack. Even the scene of Bane breaking into Wall Street (which felt evocative of Rage Against the Machines, “Sleep Now in the Fire” video) was a reminder of our economic vulnerabilities in the West. There is a sort of palpable fear that has started to seep into the world’s economic consciousness, asking “how long can this continue?” This fear, of course, fed by the constant bank scandals that I hear about on the news every morning, the lack of any kind of new budget, and the general disillusionment with the viability of our political leaders (in both parties). Nolan did an excellent job of tapping into that fear, highlighting the destruction that can come from one good hack job on Wall Street.

The class warfare depicted in the film, with it’s disturbing scenes of makeshift courts to punish the wealthy and French Revolution style executions, brought home the problematic images of what happens when poverty reaches it’s breaking point. I especially found the violence that was present to be very familiar, reminding me of A Tale of Two Cities or Les Miserable, both stories that demonstrate the intense hatred that was turned onto the ruling classes during the French Revolution.

The revolutionaries of this film literally destroyed the vestiges of wealth as they smashed pictures and pulled scared socialites out of their homes and yanked the fur coats off their backs. However, the film did have some subtler points on economy, most notably offered by the reluctant billionaire Bruce Wayne (who admittedly has experienced poverty in his travels) when he critiques the charity functions where thousands are spent on venues and food. A valid point, since the money spent on the charity function could probably just have been given to the charity in the first place. Similarly, Catwoman states that the “rich don’t even go broke like the rest of us,” disgusted that even without money, Wayne will be able to maintain his lifestyle.

The two women in the movie actually play an important role in the economics portrayed: Catwoman as a sort of liaison between the wealthy do-gooders and poor revolutionaries. She pretends wealth in order to achieve her thieving, but claims herself to be a woman of the people. Miranda as well comes from nothing and has managed to rise up in the ranks of the world, only intending to tear it down again. I found it interesting though, that both women seem to at first be a part of the upper classes, but instead, stand as symbols for those who are struggling (though neither seems to have a very positive way of dealing with their financial difficulties).

Ironically enough though, the movie seemed almost an affirmation of class status quo, since these revolutionaries were the bad guys, and the billionaire (granted now broke billionaire) was the one who had to save the day and reassert order. On the one hand, at the end, there were scenes of the orphan boys heading off to stay in mansions and the bravery of the policemen, working class heroes if you will. However, I felt that the film had a lot of potential to address economic disparity, but didn’t seem to come to any new resolution, just reasserted whatever economic platforms existed in the first place.

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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.

Welcome New Contributors!

You’ve probably noticed some wonderful new writers around here. They’ll each be writing weekly posts, so you’ll definitely want to check back here often to read their fabulous pieces. In case you missed any of their introductions last week, I’ve included excerpts below. Make sure to read their full bios to learn more about them–and then welcome them to the Bitch Flicks team!

Myrna Waldron: I am a lifelong film enthusiast, but my particular passion is animation. (I like live action television too, but I’m fairly picky) Since a young age I have obsessively consumed animation in all forms, whether they be slapstick cartoons like Looney Tunes or abstract experiments like Begone Dull Care. I am particularly interested in American animation (Chuck Jones is my hero), but I have some interest in Canadian (particularly the short films distributed by the National Film Board of Canada) and Japanese animation (mostly from the 90s) as well. It is a pet peeve of mine when people refer to animation as a genre rather than a medium, or, even worse, to assume that all animation is for children – so don’t do it! 😉 [click here to read more about Myrna]

Lady T: If I can describe my approach to feminism in one sentence, it would be this: “There’s always room for improvement.” Occasionally, I blog about media that really grates my cheese, but I’m more likely to criticize and analyze works of media that I really love and admire. I like the female characters on The Vampire Diaries, but I think the show’s portrayal of its black characters leaves a lot to be desired. I love the late, great George Carlin for many reasons, particularly his stand-up about abortion and grammar, but I don’t agree with his opinions on rape jokes. Most works of art that I love have some problematic aspects and I think it’s worthwhile and necessary to analyze our favorite things. [click here to read more about Lady T]

Robin Hitchcock: I’ve been a movie lover since I was a young teen, when my dad instituted “Movie Camp” in our house to fill in the gaps in my cultural heritage. I’ve been a feminist since longer than I can remember. I have a small amount of formal gender studies training in the form of a certificate in Women’s Studies from my alma mater the University of Pittsburgh (2006), but that department was so small they couldn’t even offer a minor in Women’s Studies, much less a major degree concentration. I also have a J.D. from the University of Pittsburgh (2010), but I do not practice as a lawyer. I am always trying to learn more and strengthen my feminist muscles. I find it more or less impossible to see a movie and not want to write about it. Even when I really hate a movie, I still tend to enjoy watching it, thinking about it, and writing about it. [click here to read more about Robin]

Erin Fenner: I love cult films, “bad movies” and directors who try their damndest to say something new in a different way. I love black and white, foreign and Cannes Film Festival. I get excited by trying-to-be-subtle symbolism and am a sucker for allegory. I value the filmmakers who push a feminist agenda, and even those who willingly ignore politics but still manage to convey a message that is keenly relevant. Not to say that I don’t like blockbusters and Oscar nodding. Explosions and played-out sensuality don’t titillate me, but I am fascinated by the process, the message and am obsessed with the mistakes. [To be clear, my notion of “liking” or “loving” something is often interchangeable with most people’s notion of “morbid fascination.”] [click here to read more about Erin]

Max Thornton: I am a third culture kid who grew up in the USA, Kenya, and Great Britain. I am a trans* queer person who gets angry a lot. I am a grad student in theology, which I define broadly as the processes by which people create meaning in their lives, and my especial interest is the interrelationship of politics, culture, and religion.

I love film, books, and sci-fi in any medium, and I have an especial passion for television. My favorite show of all time is Mystery Science Theater 3000; my favorite show currently airing is Community; the list of shows I love is ever expanding with series both new and new-to-me, but among my very favorites are Adventure Time, Archer, Arrested Development, Breaking Bad, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Farscape, Firefly, Freaks and Geeks, The League of Gentlemen, Parks and Recreation, Phineas and Ferb, Pushing Daisies, Spaced, The Thick Of It, Venture Bros, and Wonderfalls. [click here to read more about Max]

Rachel Redfern: While I grew up in California and still consider it home, I’ve moved around a bit since then; currently, I live in South Korea where I teach English and stuff myself with Kimchi and Toblerone bars and watch way too much TV. My tastes extend into the realm of the eclectic and some of my favorites are Arrested Development, Castle, pretty much anything by HBO but specifically True Blood and Game of Thrones (ditto for BBC), and loads of old shows, Star Trek, I Dream of Jeannie, Murder She Wrote, Northern Exposure, most of which are campy and nostalgic (who else loves the original Doctor Who?). [click here to read more about Rachel]

Leigh Kolb: It was only after graduating college and working in the real world (where one male boss actually told me women’s lib was a bad idea) that I realized feminism needed to be a part of my life. I opened my eyes and saw a world of gendered roles and expectations–from the media to the workplace–and I didn’t like it. I embraced the f-word.

My love for pop culture, analysis, argument and feminism created the person at this keyboard. I’ve learned to bring notebooks with me to the movies, keep one handy in the living room when we watch TV, and keep my eyes and ears open constantly to connect representations of gender roles in the media to our culture. [click here to read more about Leigh]

New ‘Bitch Flicks’ Regular Contributor: Rachel Redfern

Hello Everyone. I’m Rachel Redfern, one of the new Bitch Flicks contributors and I’m incredibly excited to be doing one of my favorite things: over-analyzing and geeking out about films and TV shows. Writing reviews (and just in general expressing my opinion) is something I’ve been doing for the past few years now, mostly for Not Another Wave (as well as discussing other feminist and social issue subjects) and more recently for Bitch Flicks. Some of the reviews I’ve done here have been Snow White and the Huntsman, Prometheus, and motherhood in Game of Thrones.

I have a Bachelors of Arts in Humanities and a Master of Arts in English; during my masters degree I focused mostly on modern American literature and film, really enjoying interdisciplinary work, and after my degree, taught composition, creative writing and literature at the university level for a few years.

While I grew up in California and still consider it home, I’ve moved around a bit since then; currently, I live in South Korea where I teach English and stuff myself with Kimchi and Toblerone bars and watch way too much TV. My tastes extend into the realm of the eclectic and some of my favorites are Arrested Development, Castle, pretty much anything by HBO but specifically True Blood and Game of Thrones (ditto for BBC), and loads of old shows, Star Trek, I Dream of Jeannie, Murder She Wrote, Northern Exposure, most of which are campy and nostalgic (who else loves the original Doctor Who?).

Similarly, my taste in movies is all over the place: old movies and classics (Arsenic and Old Lace, The Odd Couple, anything with Jack Lemmon), The Last of the Mohicans, Legends of the Fall, The Producers (the original), Drop Dead Gorgeous and a vast collection of the ridiculous and poignant.

I look forward to discussing all of the above and more with you (whilst probably saying far too much myself) here at Bitch Flicks.

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Women in Science Fiction Week: A Feminist Review of ‘Prometheus’

Noomi Rapace as Dr. Elizabeth Shaw in Prometheus

Guest post written by Rachel Redfern previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on June 20, 2012 and was originally published at Not Another Wave. Cross-posted with permission.

The prequel and spinoff for the classic film Alien has as much feminist food as its precursor did, albeit slightly less groundbreaking, though we can’t fault it for that: Alien did give us the first female action hero in Sigourney Weaver’s portrayal of the irrepressible Ripley.

Prometheus is naturally larger in scale and far more reliant on special effects, a feature that while clichéd is expected in the current sci-fi action genre (not to be solely negative, the landscape was absolutely amazing and the cinematography superb, seriously, watch for some stunning views of Iceland’s Vatnajökull National Park, Hekla Volcano, and Detifoss Waterfall).

And while some of the scenes are admittedly, far more graphic and gratuitous than I think necessary (there is a simple purity to the original Alien death scenes that I think is lacking here), the film featured some thought provoking and disturbing themes, though all backed again by a strong, smart, female scientist-turned-reluctant heroine and survivor, similar to the original Ripley.

The Swedish Noomi Rapace (seriously loving these Swedish actors) and South African Charlize Theron oppose each other brilliantly; Theron as the efficient and disdainful corporate heavy, Noomi as the resistant, believing, courageous scientist out to find some answers.

The film features a hefty score of themes for discussion, including one of the most disturbing abortion scenes I’ve ever seen. That scene is apparently what pushed the film up from a PG-13 rating into an R; if the studio had wanted to ensure a PG-13 rating, the MPAA demanded that they cut the entire scene. However, both director Ridley Scott and Rapace felt the scene was pivotal in Shaw’s intense desire to survive and in her emotional and mental development. If you weren’t pro-choice before, chances are you might be after witnessing this scene.

Continue reading –>

Guest Writer Wednesday: A Feminist Review of ‘Prometheus’

Noomi Rapace as Dr. Elizabeth Shaw in Prometheus

Guest post written by Rachel Redfern originally published at Not Another Wave. Cross-posted with permission.

Charlize Theron as Vickers in Prometheus

Perhaps notable as well is the fact that Shaw (the character who has the abortion) must physically fight to have one, forcing her to face the ordeal entirely alone. After the operation we see a general disdain for her decision (though perhaps a grudging respect for her will to survive). What stunned me about the whole situation was the entire lack of care and concern she received after it happened, the whole horrific event was entirely passed over without even a raised eyebrow in her direction as to her well being. She is even brutally hit in the abdomen by an unfeeling thug, an action I felt very deliberate in its exploitation of her recent scarring experience.

In a recent interview, Rapace discussed the scene, stating that the four of days of shooting were the most stressful of the entire film and that she started to have vicious nightmares of alien babies growing inside of her. On a personal note, I can well imagine such nightmares: the fear of losing control, of something taking you over without your will, of something using your body as it’s own instrument, it’s a powerful message about the state of the female body in our society and I found it profound and disconcerting.

Sexual imagery as well abounds in the film and, as has been said of the other Alien films, there is a substantial amount of phallic imagery and perhaps (we don’t want to project too much here) the male fear of rape as many men are violently violated and penetrated by a long, tubular, animal, which of course impregnates them.

An interesting theme that is present in this film, but not the other Alien films is a profoundly religious one, the death of our makers. On Prometheus the death of a parent is the agent of destruction as each main character deals with the abandonment and rejection they feel from their creation and of course, their ensuring resentment towards that creator. Even the mission of the ship is designed to find our own creators and discover why they have abandoned us and why we were created in the first place, if we were just to be left to our own devices. The title of the film then becomes remarkably fitting (as I’m sure was intentional) since Prometheus was a Greek who stole fire from the Gods to give to humans, an act that lead to the humans advancement and eventual independence from their creators. Prometheus was brutally punished for his disobedience and his compassion, destined to suffer for eternity, however that doesn’t stop the continued progression of humanity.

Similarly in the film, the ship and its inhabitants are obviously being punished for their own disobedience and for the overwhelming intention to survive and protect themselves from their own creator’s rejection and malevolence.

Even Michael Fassbender, who plays a Lawrence of Arabia fan and a Peter O’Toole lookalike, states, “We all want our parents dead,” indicating that even he, as a robot is unsatisfied with his creator’s image. In an odd twitch the themes of creation and destruction then becomes mutually inclusive and creation becomes more of an act of ability rather than an act of love. Why do we make something? “Because we could.”

Although disturbing, I found the religious and social themes to be thought provoking and feminist-friendly and I would easily recommend the film. Though I did cover my eyes like a small child during a few of the more intense jump scenes.

Guest Writer Wednesday: A Feminist Review of ‘Snow White and the Huntsman’

Guest post written by Rachel Redfern originally published at Not Another Wave. Cross-posted with permission.

The fairy tale redux is the latest vogue in Hollywood and poor Snow White has been remixed and redone twice in the past year. I didn’t see the Julia Roberts and Nathan Lane adaptation, about which I heard unpleasant things (I wonder though, can anything with the brilliant Nathan Lane ever be that bad?), but the trailer looked promising, despite the presence of Kristin Stewart.

I’m going to go off on a tangent here about Kristin Stewart: really, Hollywood? You like Kristen Stewart that much that you’ve decided to continue to feed her roles? Can’t you just admit that she’s a horrifically, terrible actress? She has literally one expression she uses: surprised fear. I have stuffed animals with a greater range of displayed emotion.

That tepid, surprised fear bleeds its unfortunate paralysis into the rest of the film, which had an otherwise legitimately promising cast and a script with some real potential. The film, and most notably Stewart, fails to commit to anything. Is Snow White a herald of action hero bad-assery intent on her destiny to kill the wicked witch? Or is she an angelic innocent saint, so pure that her goodness can overcome the queen’s toxic, kingdom-killing evil? Stewart definitely has no idea and so neither do the characters who interact with her, making her role (the title one) the most boring and confusing part of the film.

This leads into one of my main feminist concerns with the film, the fact that Stewart’s Snow White is supposedly only powerful because of her “innocence and purity.” Again we have to go back to ideas of innocence and purity for women, without which, we can apparently accomplish nothing, nor be of any value. This is, of course, in direct opposition to the male characters in the film who are drunk, unethical and constantly killing something. This kind of clichéd, stereotype reinforcing portrayal of the wounded, nasty, albeit powerful warrior, who falls in love with the gentle, sweet maiden (always pure), is without a doubt the most annoying thing ever.

In a supposedly “enlightened” society, why do we insist upon returning to Victorian ideals of female purity and a demeaning “innocence” (meaning lacking in life experience and child-like)? I am neither pure nor innocent, yet I manage to hold my own in life and (hopefully) do some good.

However, that doesn’t mean that the film is wholly without any redeeming qualities; the film has a strong focus on the evil queen and gives her a powerful back-story, one that explains her obsession with youth and beauty. The reason she’s so obsessed with beauty? It has been her only means of gaining power and protecting herself from men. This plotline made a great parallel to our own rich and famous and their fascination with cosmetic surgery: in order to stay powerful and current, they must stay young and beautiful or be eviscerated by the media and potentially lose their jobs.

The plotline can be taken even further though. Not only is she conscripted into a life of damaging narcissism because of her beauty, but other women are similarly used. Recognizing that their beauty is both their power and their undoing, we meet a commune of women who have scarred their faces in order to protect themselves from the queen, a plot line that reminded me of the current situation in the Middle East where rules governing women and their clothing have reached new heights. There, some people believe that women should hide their tempting eyes as a way to save men from being forced to ravish them in the streets.

Instead of exploring that plotline further however, the filmmakers decided to move on to another nonsense scene of Stewart looking scared and confused while running through a field.

However, the costume design was amazing, the sets inspiring, the music beautiful (I can say with absolutely certainty that the new Florence and the Machine song, “Breath of Life,” which was created for the film, is awesome), and the cinematography inspiring.

Charlize Theron did a good job as the tortured queen and Sam Spruell as her creepy brother was excellent; their relationship was one of the best parts of the film in my mind. Chris Hemsworth was fairly bland, but nice to look at, so I personally forgive him for being a bit boring.

All in all, the film was a gold mine of good-filmmaking and feminist potential, but which came up short because of it’s inability to either fully embrace its traditional fairy tale values or its modern ones.

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.)

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.