Robin Hitchcock – Page 4

‘What’s Your Number?’: A Feminist’s Guilty Pleasure

The fact that I need “cover” for watching this movie is not because it is a “chick flick.” I’m a feminist, so I don’t think things have less value when they are geared towards women. It’s not that its a lowbrow romcom. It’s 2014, and I try to pretend I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. It’s that this lowbrow romcom chick flick appears to presuppose that a woman could have too many sex partners. And I could pretend I watched this so I could tear it apart on this website, but the truth is I wanted to watch a romantic comedy and this one has Anna Faris and Chris Evans in it. Even though I was 90 percent sure it was going to be sexist. That, my friends, is a guilty pleasure.

Anna Faris in 'What's Your Number?' — Anna Faris in *What’s Your Number?*

Man, I wish I knew that What’s Your Number? had a wedding in it back when I was writing weekly wedding movie reviews, because that would have been the perfect excuse to watch it. The fact that I need “cover” for watching this movie is not because it is a “chick flick.” I’m a feminist, so I don’t think things have less value when they are geared toward women. It’s not that its a lowbrow romcom. It’s 2014, and I try to pretend I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. It’s that this lowbrow romcom chick flick appears to presuppose that a woman could have too many sex partners.

And I could pretend I watched this so I could tear it apart on this website, but the truth is I wanted to watch a romantic comedy and this one has Anna Faris and Chris Evans in it. Even though I was 90 percent sure it was going to be sexist. That, my friends, is a guilty pleasure.

Ally's number is 19 which is allegedly a problem of some kind — Ally’s number is 19, which is allegedly a problem of some kind

Here’s the sexist premise in full: Anna Faris plays Ally Darling, who gets dumped and fired in the same morning, and then discovers an even bigger problem with her life: she has nearly twice the average American woman’s number of lifetime sex partners, and is one partner away from the scientifically determined unmarriagable boundary of 20. She decides she can’t have sex again until she meets “The One.” Oy.

But for about 90 seconds during the opening credits of What’s Your Number? I got really excited that this might be a stealth-feminist film. The camera pans over pages from women’s magazines, with headlines perfectly illustrating the judgment, shame, contradictory advice and demented priorities that populate those pages: “Change Too Much For Your Man?” “Decorating Your Bedroom *With Him in Mind,” “Does He Only Want You For Your Bod?” and my personal favorite:

"When Your Sister Is Just Plain Better Than You" — “When Your Sister Is Just Plain Better Than You”

This movie gets it! Women’s magazines are sexist trash piles that primarily function to make women feel inferior. Ally is going to learn not to let a magazine define how many sexual partners she “should” have. Ally is going to learn to tell the slut shamers of the world to shove it and then she’ll go bone the hot guy across the hall.

Shirtless Chris Evans in 'What's Your Number?' — Shirtless Chris Evans in *What’s Your Number?*

Well, spoiler alert: only the second part happens, and only after lots of get-together plot and mutual declarations of L-O-V-E, which she never would have found with this Chris Evans-shaped charmer who makes her laugh and gets her weird art and is shaped like Chris Evans had she just jumped his bones the first time she saw him mostly naked (which he is, in like, more than half of his scenes, adding another dimension of guilty pleasure. to this movie, because sexually objectifying people is wrong, but…):

I mean seriously. This happens in more than one scene.

Chris Evans-shaped Colin only has one night stands, you see, because he becomes paralyzed with fear of hurting women if he knows any humanizing details about them, such as “she once was a child.” So he loves ’em and leaves ’em to find their own way out of his apartment while he hides out in Ally’s. But there’s no article in GQ criticizing Colin’s sexual behavior, and neither he nor Ally really question it, even though her number teetering at less than one tenth of his has sent her life spiraling. This is one of many missed opportunities for What’s Your Number? to critically engage with its central premise.

Colin teaches Ally you can Google people.

The bulk of the plot is a High Fidelity-style tour of exes, as Ally figures out the loophole where she can get back with someone she’s already banged without adding to her number. [Colin helps her track down these guys with “cop family” secrets he has like being on Facebook.] So we get lots of amusing cameos and windows into different ways Ally has changed herself to get a man’s approval, from dressing like a senator’s wife to pretending to be British. And yes, yes, “You’ll be happiest with someone you can be yourself with” is a fine message, but movie, YOU ALREADY HAVE A MESSAGE, that no one should let a magazine tell them how many people they should have sex with. Right? RIGHT?

The caption of this gif is not "I'll have sex with as many people as I want." — The caption of this gif is not “I’ll have sex with as many people as I want!”

Sigh, no. The “to hell with Marie Claire!” moment I was waiting for never came (I should have known that Marie Claire wouldn’t have agreed to product placement if that was coming). And worse, in the last scene of the movie, Ally gets a voice mail from one of the guys on the list clarifying their sexual history (they only did it “dry style”), and she can triumphantly declare that Colin “is my 20!” and their love is not doomed. Barf.

But, Hera help me, I still really liked this movie. Anna Faris is just so charming! Chris Evans wears nothing but a tea towel in multiple scenes! They have chemistry! Amusing cameos! Including Anthony Mackie miming handling four penises! No “my younger sister is getting married” panic! Said younger sister is Ari Graynor! Raunchy comedy geared toward the women in the audience and not just to appease their male dates! Sex positivity (yes, seriously, in the movie borne from slut shaming)!

"I'm like, super gay." — “I’m like, super gay.”

Seriously, this would be a glowing review of an underappreciated gem if you could just cut out the bullshit last scene (although work the words “dry style” into some other part of the script, because that’s hilarious) and throw in some real talk about how ridiculous our obsession with “Numbers” is. We could have had it all, movie. Instead, What’s Your Number? only bumps up my number. My number of Antifeminist Guilty Pleasures. Which is way, way higher than 20.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town. Her number is somewhere between negative three and seventeen thousand.

‘Baby Mama’ Makes Fun of Pregnancy More Than Poor People

Shockingly, despite both Tina Fey and Amy Poehler being on my Fantasy Dinner Party Guest List, it took me six years to finally watch Baby Mama, the 2008 surrogacy comedy starring everyone’s favorite FFBFFs (famous funny best friends forever). I made the classic error of judging a movie by its trailer and thought ‘Baby Mama’ was going to be 90 minutes of “this old bat has such raging baby fever she lowers herself to associating with—get this—poor people!” and/or “This chick is so poor she sublets her uterus! It’s funny because she’s poor.”

'Baby Mama' movie poster — *Baby Mama* movie poster

Shockingly, despite both Tina Fey and Amy Poehler being on my Fantasy Dinner Party Guest List, it took me six years to finally watch Baby Mama, the 2008 surrogacy comedy starring everyone’s favorite FFBFFs (famous funny best friends forever).

Aside from having been released during the pop culture blackout period that was my first year of law school my giant mistake, I also made the classic error of judging a movie by its trailer and thought Baby Mama was going to be 90 minutes of “this old bat has such raging baby fever she lowers herself to associating with—get this—poor people!” and/or “This chick is so poor she sublets her uterus! It’s funny because she’s poor.”

Amy Poehler's Angie holds breast pumps over her eyes. — Amy Poehler’s Angie holds breast pumps over her eyes.

Fortunately, Baby Mama is not as grossly classist as I feared. Yes, Tina Fey’s Kate, the wealthy businesswoman who can’t get pregnant, is shocked by her surrogate Angie (Amy Poehler) for everything from her diet (heavily featuring Tastykakes and Dr Pepper) to her manners (discarding gum under a reclaimed barnwood coffee table) to her interests (the American Idol karaoke video game Kate bought for her niece). But the audience is invited to laugh at both sides of the class divide between these characters, and there are actually significantly fewer jabs at Angie for being insufficiently classy than there are at Kate for being a yuppie snob. It’s just that peeing in the sink makes for better trailer material than jokes about forced nicknames for gentrified neighborhoods.

"You peed in the sink, isn't that against everyone's rules?" — “You peed in the sink, isn’t that against everyone’s rules?”

However, if you’re looking for any kind of meaningful exploration of the power dynamics and body politics inherent to contracted surrogate pregnancies, Baby Mama is not your movie. This is strictly a situation comedy, with a surprising reliance on plot twists and a mostly superfluous romantic subplot involving Greg Kinnear as a slightly more sincere yippie (Young Urban Professional Hippie) than Kate. A lot of the humor is derived from the absurdities that apply to pregnancy and parenting more generally rather than surrogacy specifically: birth shaming, strollers with airbags, books like 101 Things That Can Go Wrong With Your Pregnancy.

Kate reads 101 Things That Can Go Wrong With Your Pregnancy — Kate reads *101 Things That Can Go Wrong With Your Pregnancy*

But, the surrogacy forces the Hollywood Movie Unobtainium that is a central female relationship. And it is the chemistry between Fey and Poehler that keeps this movie afloat despite its meandering pace, some repeated jokes that never quite land (Steve Martin as Kate’s boss is one yuppie joke too many, Sigourney Weaver as the surprisingly fertile surrogacy agent), pointless tertiary characters (Maura Tierney as Kate’s supermom sister, Romany Malco as Kate’s weirdly ubiquitous doorman), and a final plot twist that made me feel like I had morning sickness.

Really, if the combined powers of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler can make a movie as thoroughly mediocre as Baby Mama so much fun to watch, we should probably be legally requiring them to make at least one movie together a year. Call your congressperson.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who just looked up how many days there are until the next Golden Globes (129).

The Awesome Women of ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’

Aside from the great characters, female and otherwise, I also want to give props to ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ for being a sitcom set in Brooklyn that isn’t all about white people. In fact, more than half the regular cast are people of color. Even more refreshingly, ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ doesn’t take a ‘Puzzle Place’ approach to diversity where one-and-done token characters fill each “slot” and make room for more white people. And aside from being more like the real world, avoiding tokenism allows for stronger characters who aren’t required to be the sole representative of a supposedly monolithic race. Rosa Diaz is not the be all and end all of Latina women on this show, there’s Amy Santiago one desk over, and they’re completely different. Their race is a part of their character, but not the point of their character.

We TV lovers are in the dog days of summer. Unless you are a MasterChef superfan (Isn’t Cutter the worst!?), a premium cable subscriber (Twitter sure seems to like Masters of Sex), or the type of masochist who watches Under the Dome (get help), the long waiting period between Orange is the New Black and the start of the fall TV season usually gets unbearable around mid-August.

The only possible solutions are to go outside (ew!) or catch up on TV shows you might have missed. And for that second category I humbly submit Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

The cast of 'Brooklyn Nine-Nine' — The cast of *Brooklyn Nine-Nine*

Brooklyn Nine-Nine is so off-the-line formulaic as a workplace sitcom some terrible hipster part of me wanted to hate it. And yes, it is pretty much exactly the same as every other workplace sitcoms you’ve seen, but the ones you’ve loved so much you put the theme song as your ringtone and you drink your coffee out of a tie-in merchandise mug and you named your cat after your favorite character.

Co-created by Mike Schur of Parks and Recreation fame, you can easily map most of the characters in the 99th Precinct to the Pawnee Parks Department. Jake Peralta (Andy Samberg, the nominal lead character) is the best case scenario of what would have happened had Andy Dwyer passed his police academy psych screening. Andre Braugher’s Captain Holt is as resolute and commanding as Ron Swanson, but with the entirely different politics that come with being a gay Black intellectual. There’s even room for TWO Jerrys in the background cast, and one of them is named Hitchcock, which gives me a little thrill every time they say his name.

Relevant to the interests of our readership not-necessarily-sharing-my-surname, the three women in the main cast of Brooklyn Nine-Nine are all AMAZING:

Melissa Fumero’s Amy Santiago is a tightly wound ultra-achiever in the vein of Leslie Knope, but with crushing insecurity in place of Leslie’s joyful drive. Amy still gets it done, closely rivaling Jake’s arrest record, and she’s clearly her own biggest doubter. While I don’t think “frazzled desperate-to-please goody-two-shoes” is a particularly revolutionary female character type, I like how Amy is still respected by the characters and the storytellers despite her neuroses. Like Leslie Knope, she is not judged for her ambition. And even though she can seem as emotionally fragile as spun glass, she’s never treated as insufficiently tough for her job.

Amy salutes herself wearing her Captain's hat in a compact mirror — Amy salutes herself wearing her Captain’s hat in a compact mirror

Meanwhile, Sergeant Terry Jeffords (Terry Crews) struggles with panic attacks, which, while they are sometimes played for laughs, are also not treated as anything shameful. With these characters, Brooklyn Nine-Nine knocks down the masculine “toughness” that we associate with law enforcement characters.

Every bit of that stereotypical toughness is funneled into Stephanie Beatriz’s Detective Rosa Diaz, who makes Parks’ April Ludgate seem like Miss Congeniality. Rosa has a “formal” leather jacket: “the one without any blood on it.” She will not hesitate to tell you “your entire life is garbage” or “your shirt looks like vomit.” Her darkest secret is that she trained as a ballerina, an embarrassment slightly tempered by having been kicked out of the academy for beating up other ballerinas. Rosa is a wish-fulfillment character for every chick who has swallowed her anger one too many times and wishes for a little more fear and respect from the masses.

Unfortunately, Rosa got bogged down in the most unfortunate plot of the first season, as the subject of her partner Boyle’s unrequited “crush” (read: unhealthy obsession). Similar to Andy Dwyer’s creepy attempts to “win back” Ann on Parks and Recreation, it seemed the audience was meant to find Boyle’s clearly unwelcome wooing charming in some way. Fortunately the writers pulled up before the Boyle/Diaz dynamic crashed and burned the entire show by having Boyle move on to another woman romantically and reestablish his relationship with Rosa as a relatively healthy friendship. Boyle was single again by the first season’s end, but I hope we won’t see more allegedly sympathetic harassment. Especially because I’m desperate to see more of Rosa’s actual dating life, which ideally for her consists of “cheap dinner, watch basketball, bone down.”

Finally, there’s Chelsea Peretti’s Gina Linetti, the rare female example a sitcom’s obligatory Prime Oddball in the mold of Reverend Jim and Cosmo Kramer. Gina also shares some DNA with April Ludgate in that she’s an aggressively lazy assistant who is secretly really good at her job, as well as with Tom Haverford for her ego and self-serious ridiculousness (Tom would probably hire Gina’s dance troupe Floorgasm for an Entertainment Seven-Twenty event), and Donna Meagle for her undeniable fabulousness and financial savvy. Gina’s a broad amalgam of a character but she works because Chelsea Peretti holds her together with the same enchantingly dry delivery whether she’s speaking in emoji or soliciting crime from her desk in the precinct or offering surprisingly sincere advice laced with references to The Little Mermaid.

Gina thinks she is "The Paris of people." — Gina thinks she is “The Paris of people.”

Aside from the great characters, female and otherwise, I also want to give props to Brooklyn Nine-Nine for being a sitcom set in Brooklyn that isn’t all about white people. In fact, more than half the regular cast are people of color. Even more refreshingly, Brooklyn Nine-Nine doesn’t take a Puzzle Place approach to diversity where one-and-done token characters fill each “slot” and make room for more white people. And aside from being more like the real world, avoiding tokenism allows for stronger characters who aren’t required to be the sole representative of a supposedly monolithic race. Rosa Diaz is not the be all and end all of Latina women on this show, there’s Amy Santiago one desk over, and they’re completely different. Their race is a part of their characters, but not the point of their characters.

Terry Crews, who plays Sergeant Jeffords, one of the two Black men in command of the precinct, told NBC news:

I was working on this thing for a month before I realized that there’s two black guys running the precinct—and I work on the show! I didn’t even think about that, which is so cool because, oh my God, we have all been there. I’ve turned down a lot of stuff where the message was “We’re going to be diverse!” Give me a break. We’re in Brooklyn. If you don’t make it diverse, it looks funny. We are what Friends should have been.

Have I convinced you to watch this show yet? Season 2 of Brooklyn Nine-Nine premieres on FOX on Sept. 28, so catch up now.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who wishes she had a dance troupe, a dress that makes her look like a mermaid, and a formal leather jacket.

‘Guardians of the Galaxy’: Almost as Weird as a Movie About Women

‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ is flat-out aggressively weird (up to and including its gigantic EFF YOU of a post-credits scene reminding us of the grand history of weird comic book adaptations). It has capitalized perfectly on this moment of comic book blockbusters and consumers’ particular faith in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As a super-dork who loves her some space cowboys and space cowgirls and space nonbinary cow-wranglers, I just want to issue my most sincere and grateful slow clap. Way to take your moment, movie.

The cast of 'Guardians of the Galaxy' — The cast of *Guardians of the Galaxy*

Marvel Studios made another gigantic pile of money last weekend with Guardians of the Galaxy. Even though it is based on a property that could kindly be referred to as “obscure,” the Marvel name plus a great trailer plus a genius week-after-ComicCon release = big opening weekend. Even for a movie about Andy Dwyer, a green badass chick, a beefy guy painted like a brocade tablecloth, a cyborg raccoon, and a sentient tree creature all getting their space opera on over a purple ringpop of a MacGuffin.

Guardians of the Galaxy is flat out aggressively weird (up to and including its gigantic EFF YOU of a post-credits scene reminding us of the grand history of weird comic book adaptations). It has capitalized perfectly on this moment of comic book blockbusters and consumers’ particular faith in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As a super-dork who loves her some space cowboys and space cowgirls and space nonbinary cow-wranglers, I just want to issue my most sincere and grateful slow clap. Way to take your moment, movie.

Guardians of the Galaxy is so weird there are two chick on screen at one time! — *Guardians of the Galaxy* is so weird there are two chick on screen at one time!

And while Guardians of the Galaxy doesn’t make straight A’s on the feminist scorecard, as expertly detailed by my Bitch Flicks colleague Andé Morgan, it still represents an important moment for feminist fans of genre flicks. First, this is the first Marvel movie with a credited woman writer, Nicole Perlman. Male-dominated movie studios seem to be just now wrapping their heads around the idea that women actually pay to see movies, and that’s not necessarily moving them to cater to what the female audience wants. Getting more women on the creative end is vital, particularly women like Perlman who can make bizarre material palatable to mainstream audiences, because comic books sources are never short on w’s, t’s, or f’s.

"I'm a blue guy with a shiny mohawk and I still think that might be too weird." — “I’m a blue guy with a shiny mohawk and I still think that might be too weird.”

Guardians of the Galaxy must bear inevitable comparisons to Star Wars. Sidestepping their actual relative merits, these films collectively prove that the moviegoing public are, at large, huge dorks. If you have compelling characters and a decent level of whiz bang in your FX, we’ll happily embrace whatever nonhumanoid creatures and nonsensical mythos you hurl at us.

And with no disrespect meant toward the legions of FX engineers anonymously creating cinematic wonder for our consumption, it seems that the compelling characters are the tricky part; without those you’ve got a Transformers on your hands, or the film nodded toward in GotG’s post-credits sequence.

Too often, studios conflate “compelling character” with “white dude.” And yep, there’s a bright shiny White Dude at the center of Guardians of the Galaxy, acting as the sole representative of Earth to boot. But in case you haven’t caught my “wait, seriously?” drift yet, everyone else in the movie is some variety of alien including the dynamic duo of a CYBORG RACCOON and SENTIENT TREE.

Djimon Hounsou shows up on the big screen as Korath before we get T'Challa? — Djimon Hounsou can play this alien dude but there’s still no T’Challa? Seriously?

All of which means that there’s no excuse left in the world to only make movies about the white dudes in comics. Don’t even begin to pretend with your “too unknown.” Please stop with your “not accessible to mainstream audiences.” And don’t think you’re going to get much further with Marvel Studio’s president Kevin Feige’s usual line about “timing” and “telling the right story,” because the time is obviously NOW to throw any and all Marvel pasta at the movie screen, and the “right story” is clearly irrelevant (I don’t think Guardians of the Galaxy got made because the studio just couldn’t sit on this brilliant yarn about a face-melting space ruby).

Unfortunately Feige is craftily spinning Marvel’s boon time as somehow making it even more difficult for them to release new properties:

I hope we [release a female-led film] sooner rather than later. But we find ourselves in the very strange position of managing more franchises than most people have — which is a very, very good thing and we don’t take for granted, but is a challenging thing. You may notice from those release dates, we have three for 2017. And that’s because just the timing worked on what was sort of gearing up. But it does mean you have to put one franchise on hold for three or four years in order to introduce a new one? I don’t know. Those are the kinds of chess matches we’re playing right now.

Well who would want to play a chess match with only white pieces and no queens? You need to shake up your board, Marvel. No more excuses.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who complains about this stuff a lot.

Wedding Movies Revisited

The staggering majority of wedding movies take on the inherent drama of an impending lifelong commitment by tearing apart the engaged couple for a more “meant to be” love, generally with either a close friend or someone working on the wedding. This trope became incredibly frustrating for me when I was engaged, because I wasn’t inclined to root for weddings falling apart at the altar. I became so jaded about the genre, hating that so many movies with central female characters are wrapped up in the wedding world. But this week I’ve been rethinking wedding movies a bit.

'Bride Wars', the quintessential obnoxious wedding movie — *Bride Wars*, the quintessential obnoxious wedding movie

The reason I’ve been delinquent with my Bitch Flicks posts the last couple of weeks is I have been neck-deep in the choppy waters of Wedding Sea. My best friend from college is getting married, and I am Chief Mermaid (our vastly superior way of saying “Matron of Honor,” which, barf.) I’ve traveled nearly 10,000 miles to be here. I have engaged in crafting I never imagined I would (for example, I now know how to rivet). I have enabled my friend’s quest toward giving zero fucks as endless wedding “problems” present themselves (all things considered, she’s doing great).

And it is my third wedding anniversary is this week, so I’ve also been thinking back to the immersive planning experience I went through for my own wedding, which I blogged along the way. This is where I actually got my start writing about movies, as I dove head-first into the extensive genre of wedding movies. My takeaway on the genre when it was a Bitch Flicks theme week last year was as such:

Weddings are such popular centerpieces for movies because they’re sort of a free pass on logical character behavior. Even in real life, weddings exaggerate emotions and make people do strange things (like spend thousands of dollars on chair rental). So in the movies, weddings are basically an anything-goes wonderland of high drahms. None of the characters have to act realistically or believably and the stakes are always extremely high (“’til death do us part”!!!).

'My Best Friend's Wedding' is one of many love triangle wedding movies. — *My Best Friend’s Wedding* is one of many love triangle wedding movies.

But this week I’ve been rethinking wedding movies a bit.

Weddings are dramatic all on their own, even without the ubiquitous love triangle-engendered cold feet. I wish more wedding movies explored the more mundane, but no less histrionic, issues that come with this cultural juggernaut. Women, in particular, are forced to confront a crap-ton of societal expectations when they wed. Families are drawn together and meant to be happy and celebratory regardless of the actual state of their relationships (the best representation I’ve seen of this issue thus far is Rachel Getting Married). People are pushed to their breaking point by hot glue guns and last-minute cancellations and unexpected lighting technician fees. There’s a lot of drama (and tragedy + time = comedy) inherit to weddings that doesn’t involve jiltings, which I hope are relatively rare.

'Rachel Getting Married' a wedding movie about family relationships — *Rachel Getting Married*: a wedding movie about family relationships

So I wish there were more movies that explored these facets of weddings. I want more movies that use a wedding as a catalyst for relationship reckonings that aren’t between the doomed would-be bride and groom. But I also want wedding movies about the rest of the bizarre whirlwind surrounding weddings: I want a movie that takes on the “Wedding Industrial Complex” as an evil empire that a superpowered bride takes down. I want a race-against-time action comedy about recovering misplaced wedding rings. I want more gay wedding movies, wedding movies about people of color, wedding movies about people with disabilities.

Basically, I think weddings are interesting, and I want to see weddings in film as something other than the backdrop for a pro-forma romantic comedy. (Even Bridesmaids and Bachelorette, two female-relationship-centric wedding flicks, heavily feature romcom subplots.)

Even 'Bridesmaids' has romcom elements — Even *Bridesmaids* has romcom elements

I still stand by what I wrote before, that “it’s a shame that they take up so much of a share of the movies Hollywood makes about women.” Obviously we can all agree that Hollywood needs to be making more movies about women, and that our culture over-emphasizes the importance of weddings in women’s lives, so maybe I shouldn’t be asking for more wedding movies. I suppose I don’t want MORE wedding movies, I just want different and superior ones.

So I don’t think wedding movies are just a particular weakness of mine anymore. I think weddings are a valid and rich subject for a movie. Just not the same movie 500,000 times.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer with 24 dresses to go before she ties Katherine Heigl.

Remake A Better, Bi-er ‘Chasing Amy’

‘Chasing Amy’ is a complicated movie for a feminist fan. There’s the initial terror that it’s an “air-quotes ‘lesbian’ just needed to find the right guy” romcom. This fear is dissuades despite the film’s obtuse refusal to use the word “bisexual,” as we get to know more about would-be erstwhile lesbian Alyssa (Joey Lauren Adams). And there’s some really poignant criticism of straight men’s fear of and failure to understand women’s sexuality, as we see that Ben Affleck’s Holden prizes Alyssa’s lesbianism because he conflates it with sexual purity. And while this is a fascinating, under-explored facet of sexual politics, it does mean the movie ends up being about Holden’s hurt fee fees more than Alyssa’s actual sexual identity and choices.

When a movie has so much promise but such big problems, especially a movie so dated by the ebbing flannel tide of the late 1990s, there’s only one reasonable option: A REMAKE.

Ben Affleck as Holden and Joey Lauren Adams as Alyssa in 'Chasing Amy' — Ben Affleck as Holden and Joey Lauren Adams as Alyssa in *Chasing Amy*

Chasing Amy is a complicated movie for a feminist fan. There’s the initial terror that it’s an “air-quotes ‘lesbian’ just needed to find the right guy” rom com (see Katherine Murray’s piece for BF: “When It Seems Like the Movie You Are Watching Might Hate You”). This fear is dissuades despite the film’s obtuse refusal to use the word “bisexual,” as we get to know more about would-be erstwhile lesbian Alyssa (Joey Lauren Adams), and see that even though no one ever uses the word in the film, she is bisexual. And Chasing Amy levels some really poignant criticism of straight men’s fear of and failure to understand women’s sexuality, as we see that Ben Affleck’s Holden prizes Alyssa’s lesbianism not because of a fetish or the pride of a challenge, but because he conflates it with sexual purity. And while this is a fascinating, under-explored facet of sexual politics, the movie ends up seeming to be more about Holden’s hurt fee fees more than Alyssa’s actual sexual identity and choices.

When a movie has so much promise but such big problems, especially a movie so dated by the ebbing flannel tide of the late 1990s, there’s only one reasonable option: A REMAKE.

And in this remake, I humbly submit the following suggested improvements upon the original:

1. Make Holden less (or more) horrible (preferably less)

Holden is one of those movie protagonists who is so abjectly hate-able I really doubt you’re supposed to like him. I mean, his name is Holden. He’s played by Ben Affleck at the height of his smug uselessness. He’s too cool for his own improbable success as a comic book writer and artist, refusing to sell out to producers who want to adapt his title into an animated series. He rolls his eyes at his friends more than he listens to them. He assumes Alyssa wants his D because she talks to him. He wears oversized cardigans over ratty white undershirts in public. (Plead 90s all you want, ‘Fleck. I won’t hear that defense in my court.) And he breaks up with his girlfriend because she’s encountered other penises before his, and absurdly insists the only way for her to make this up to him is to have a threesome with him and his best friend (more on that later).

Holden’s awfulness makes it harder to feel sorry for him when his total failures as a human being bite him in the ass, which takes up a lot of the third act. The remake could get around this problem by owning Holden’s The Worstness and framing the outcome as just deserts. But Holden’s awfulness also calls into question Alyssa’s character judgment. When she says she didn’t want her gender preference to stop her from being with someone who “complements [her] so completely”, you have to wonder what kind of person would feel that way about this knob. So if Holden is more likeable, so will be Alyssa, and the entire movie.

I would start by giving him a name other than Holden.

2. Explicitly address bisexuality.

Alyssa is certainly within her rights to identify as lesbian despite having had sex with men and dating a man. But the total absence of the word “bisexual” makes the viewer worry that the concept isn’t in the filmmaker’s worldview. And given media’s track record with bi-erasure, that’s very troubling. Chasing Amy actually has interesting things to say about biphobia, shown in both the hetero- and homosexual sides of Alyssa’s social circles. But it is impossible to really appreciate them in a movie that may itself be so biphobic as to deny its central bisexual character that label.

Especially because Alyssa is probably not the only bisexual character in the film! Which leads me to…

3. Deal with male sexuality beyond male ignorance of female sexuality.

The weakest part of Chasing Amy is the subplot about Banky’s alleged repressed attraction to Holden, mostly because the actors are so uncomfortable with it there might as well be a flashing “no homo” chyron. That palpable discomfort really muddles what the film was trying to say about the potential for homoerotic tension in close male friendships. I honestly don’t know if we’re supposed to think Banky is really gay or bi or just in love with Holden, and to what extent Holden returns those feelings (for what it’s worth, he’s the one who kisses Banky and proposes they have group sex with Alyssa).

So the remake has got to clear all this up, and cast some actors who can handle the material.

And because our culture is currently obsessed with “bromances,” this kind of deconstruction will be all the more topical.

And speaking of topical, it’s 2014. The fluidity of female sexuality is not particularly fresh subject matter, and male sexuality is rarely depicted as anything less than concrete. Digging deeper into Holden and Banky’s relationship has a lot of potential. It would be even better to see trans and/or nonbinary characters in this mix so it’s not a lot of “men are from monosexual Mars women are from bisexual Venus” hooey.

4. Centralize Alyssa

Even if the male characters are made more likable and interested as outlined above, Chasing Amy would still have the problem of making Alyssa the object and not the subject of the story. Why does Alyssa obscure her history with men to Holden? How does Alyssa feel about her gay friends feeling betrayed when she dates a man? What does Alyssa think about the potential sexual layer of Banky and Holden’s relationship? Chasing Amy hardly deals with any of this because it is really only about Holden’s wants, needs, and feelings. Which is silly, because who’s having the more interesting story here: “I thought I was a lesbian but I fell in love with a guy?” or “I thought I was straight and I fell in love with a girl.”? Obviously those are gross over-simplifications of Alyssa and Holden’s arcs, and would hopefully be even moreso in this new-and-improved remake. But seriously, it seems pretty clear the only reason Holden is the main character here is that he’s the white dude.

You’re welcome, Hollywood. With these four easier-said-than-done steps you can remake a problematic minor classic into a perfectly awesome MEGA CLASSIC. Or at least another staple of queer media studies syllabi.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town.

‘Non-Stop’: Gate-Check Your Brain

I want to give ‘Non-Stop’ the benefit of the doubt, because I truly enjoyed it, certainly more than any of the other films in the Grizzled Action Hero phase of Liam Neeson’s career. It deftly plays with audience expectations and genre-savvy to yield more red herrings than a Lenten Fish Fry to keep the whodunit simmering for most of its tight 106-minute runtime.

Liam Neeson in Grizzled Action Hero mode in 'Non-Stop' — Liam Neeson in Grizzled Action Hero mode in *Non-Stop*

I want to give Non-Stop the benefit of the doubt, because I truly enjoyed it, certainly more than any of the other films in the Grizzled Action Hero phase of Liam Neeson’s career. It deftly plays with audience expectations and genre-savvy to yield more red herrings than a Lenten Fish Fry to keep the whodunit simmering for most of its tight 106-minute runtime.

Julianne Moore in 'Non-Stop' — Julianne Moore in *Non-Stop*

An example of how Non-Stop plays with tropes is its use of lead actress Julianne Moore. “The Most Famous Person Did It” is such a classic problem with mystery film and television I remember noticing it in reruns of Murder She Wrote when I was in grade school. Non-Stop knows you are wondering if Julianne Moore is slumming it here because she wants that juicy villain monologue at the end. So she gets lots of opportunities to do suspiciously weird things, but also plenty of opportunities to be vulnerable and likable, so we don’t just assume she’s the bad guy and decide to just watch Air Force One again. At some point we wonder… could she possibly be an age-appropriate love-interest for Liam Neeson? It’s almost inconceivable!

"You do know she's ONLY eight years younger than him, right?" — “You do know she’s ONLY eight years younger than him, right?”

Then there’s a half-dozen or so recognizable character actors taking turns being potentially sinister and/or mean enough we want to see Liam Neeson punch them, even if they might not be the terrorist in question. (Liam Neeson will ultimately punch nearly all of them). Is it the shifty businessman? The genteel captain? The John McClane wannabe who is already making fists with his toes because he’s got so much anger? The squirrelly oversharer played by that guy named Skeet or Street or Poot or something? The brown guy in the kufi (please don’t be the brown guy in the kufi)?

Maybe it is Lupita!!!

Lupita Nyong'o in Non-Stop — Lupita Nyong’o in *Non-Stop*

Spoiler alert: it is not Lupita. In fact, one of the most precious things about this movie is that it clearly got a last-minute Lupita-heavy re-edit to reflect her It Girl status. Her character is named (Gwen) but she’s really just an extra (Flight Attendant #2), with no significant dialogue (the film would even pass the Bechdel Test without her!) and zero characterization. But there are so many pointless cuts to Lupita B-Roll. Liam Neeson sneaks around the galley. But what is Lupita doing? (Checking the latch on an overhead bin.) Liam Neeson defies his superiors at DHS. But what is Lupita doing? (Picking a piece of lint off her uniform.) Liam Neeson punches a guy. BUT WHAT. IS. LUPITA. DOING!? (Making a “who is this punch-happy jackass?” face.)

"Quick, cut to Lupita!" — Lupita ruefully thinks, “Get off my plane.”

But I digress. Everyone’s a suspect (I seriously entertained the notion that the shy unaccompanied minor would be an accessory to the terrorist plot somehow), and that’s a big part of why Non-Stop works. But scratch that seemingly clever surface and Non-Stop has a quintessential Idiot Plot, as defined by Roger Ebert: “a plot containing problems that would be solved instantly if all the characters were not idiots.” It’s cat and mouse between a villain doing asinine things for incomprehensible reasons and a hero who responds irrationally, which could all be avoided if the pilot would just make an unscheduled landing (I know from long-haul flights, and you’re not “in the Middle of the Atlantic!” When Halifax is 45 minutes behind you).

Often the most plausible explanation for the main character’s strange behaviors is “because that’s the way a man’s man would do it.” Liam Neeson doesn’t tell anyone he was [minor spoiler] just forced to kill his partner in self-defense because… that makes him all the more tragically guarded with his emotional pain? (He’s got the requisite dead daughter backstory and surprisingly not-inconvenient drinking problem.) I don’t really understand why being tragically guarded with emotional pain is on the Action Hero Checklist to begin with. Look, I’ve got dead family and stunted emotions too, and I’m decidedly not a badass.

Non-Stop is usually gripping enough to distract you from its various weaknesses, but it’s got no choice but to tear open its nonsensical underbelly when the villain (or villains!?!) are revealed, and no, there isn’t some hidden agenda that makes all the ridiculous stuff that’s happened make any more sense. Fortunately the movie is almost over then.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town. Her feelings about Lupita Nyong’o are comparable to Key & Peele’s valets’ regarding “Liam Neesons.”

Breaking: Dame Judi Dench Is Not Entirely Perfect

Judi Dench’s charming, Oscar-nominated performance as the eponymous character carries with it a rather shaky Irish accent.

I’m trembling, deigning to disparage one of the greatest actresses in cinema, particularly in this fine performance. So let me clarify that this isn’t one of those embarrassingly overwrought or perplexingly unrecognizable attempts at an accent. The problem is she does not commit. There are moments when—to my admittedly untrained American ears—her accent is convincing. But those moments last about half a line of dialogue every twenty minutes of film. The rest of the time it is just Judi Dench’s (glorious, enviable) regular voice.

This is shaking my world-view. There is something Dame Judi Dench cannot do perfectly.

Judi Dench in 'Philomena' — Judi Dench in *Philomena*

I finally saw Philomena, the sole outstanding 2013 Best Picture nominee on my list. Better yet, I saw it on my way to Ireland, a key setting in the film, where I’m currently enjoying an impromptu vacation.

These circumstances drew my attention to something rather shocking: Judi Dench’s charming, Oscar-nominated performance as the eponymous character carries with it a rather shaky Irish accent.

I’m trembling, deigning to disparage one of the greatest actresses in cinema, particularly in this fine performance. So let me clarify that this isn’t one of those embarrassingly overwrought or perplexingly unrecognizable attempts at an accent. The problem is she does not commit. There are moments when—to my admittedly untrained American ears—her accent is convincing. But those moments last about half a line of dialogue every 20 minutes of film. The rest of the time it is just Judi Dench’s (glorious, enviable) regular voice.

How is it possible that this woman is not perfectly perfect in every way?

This is shaking my world-view. There is something Dame Judi Dench cannot do perfectly.

I am trying to spin this positively. If Judi Dench can craft a great performance, but one with a significant flaw, perhaps any of us can do great things (maybe not Dench great, but you know, our personal best) even if there is some part of it we struggle with. See, I write for the esteemed site Bitch Flicks, but I just ended a sentence with a preposition.

Here’s some things other than an Irish accent that I’m willing to venture Dame Judi Dench cannot do very well:

Surya Bonaly can do something Judi Dench cannot.

A back flip on ice skates. Well, certainly not a back flip landing on a single blade, like Surya Bonaly.
Juggle a dozen quail eggs.
Speak fluent Xhosa.
Fold a fitted sheet with one hand tied behind her back.
Run a marathon in high heels and a straightjacket.
Recite pi to 300 digits.
Breed pandas.
Explain the plot of James Joyce’s Ulysses.
Communicate with ducks.
Recreate every braided hairstyle she sees on Pinterest.
Traverse the Darien Gap.
Fold a piece of paper in half more than 11 times.
Climb Everest without oxygen tanks.
Score over 1,000 in Flappy Bird.
Recall every meal she’s had for the last 20 years.
Write her name on a single sesame seed.
Catch a cloud and pin it down.
Solve the P versus NP problem.
Travel through time.
Paint her nails without getting any on her cuticles.

So that’s that. Dame Judi Dench isn’t perfect. Her Irish accent in Philomena was inconsistent and weak. She PROBABLY can’t do the things listed above (at least not yet). But that’s OK. We’re all OK.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer presently in Galway, Ireland. Her Irish accent is substantially worse than Judi Dench’s.

‘The Mindy Project,’ Selfies, and Feminist Ambivalence

Mindy Lahiri knows she’s hot, she’s comfortable saying it (“bet you didn’t think with this bod that I had brains too, and pretty good boobs”), and she takes it as a given that others generally agree. When Mindy slaps a stranger in a case of mistaken identity, she regrets it not because he was innocent, but because he’s a European immigrant, and “he’s gonna go back to his country and say ‘In America, hot girls can do whatever they want.’ That’s a bad message, Danny!”

Mindy Kaling on 'The Mindy Project' — Mindy Kaling on ‘The Mindy Project’

My relationship with The Mindy Project is as complicated as its protagonist’s average romance. All feminism and politics aside, I’m ambivalent regarding its actual quality as a television show. Every episode makes me laugh out loud, but the structure and pacing can be, well… there’s an obvious reason this show abandoned its working title of It’s Messy.

Some of the characters are extremely appealing (Dr. Lahiri herself, of course; Danny Castallano, who taps into something deeply imprinted on me from years of living in the Good Ol’ Italian Boy thicket of North Jersey; Morgan, the sweet-hearted human non sequitor).

"I have the right to life, liberty, and chicken wings." - one reason I love Mindy Lahiri. — “I have the right to life, liberty, and chicken wings.” – one reason I love Mindy Lahiri.

And then there is everyone else, who are bland at best (Ed Weeks’s Jeremy), irritating at worst (Adam Pally’s Peter), and universally pointless and without a clear place in the show, contributing to an overall disjointedness that has barely smoothed out over the course of two full seasons. Despite their fuzzy and unsuccessful characterization, Jeremy and Peter still get plenty of screen time and dialogue.

Contrast the small and dwindling number of female supporting characters on the show, who are strictly on the sidelines. Mindy’s best friend Gwen (Anna Camp) was originally meant to be a main character, but was quickly edged out and forgotten, ultimately appearing in only 13 episodes. Nurse Beverly (Beth Grant) gets a lot of laughs, but compare her screen time to Morgan’s, who fits essentially the same role (bizarre nurse). Betsy (Zoe Jarman) might seem like a one-note “gasp!” character, but think about how far Community took Annie Edison? And then there’s Tamra (Xosha Roquemore), the only other woman of color on the series, who is a pro forma sassy Black woman straight out of an ABC sitcom circa 1992. Gwen might not have fit within the workplace setting of the show, but there have been opportunities to add other main female characters: Dr. Lahiri is the only woman doctor to have practiced with Shulman and Associates, even though we’ve seen at least six doctors work there, mostly young, and women make up 75 percent of current OB/GYN residents.

Mindy Kaling surrounded by white dudes. (Like on her show) — Mindy Kaling surrounded by white dudes. (Like on her show.)

Which pulls me back to my EVEN MORE COMPLICATED feminist feelings about this show. I admire Mindy Kaling as an extremely funny and talented actress and writer, and love her as a relatable celeb persona (I’m writing this piece in bed! Mindy Kaling writes episodes of TV in bed, as per her memoir! Stars: they’re just like us!). I respect how far she’s come as a woman of color in television and in comedy, two playgrounds full of white dudes hogging all the shovels in the sandbox.

The Mindy Project's original writing staff, from Mindy Kaling's instagram — *The Mindy Project*‘s original writing staff, from Mindy Kaling’s Instagram

But Mindy Kaling is one of those people who finds a secret passageway through the glass ceiling and then just holds up a sign that says, “sorry, suckers!” to the people left on the other side. Her initial writing staff had only one other woman on it, and only four women other than Kaling have earned writing credits on the show. When asked about the lack of diversity on her show at SXSW last March, she answered:

I look at shows on TV, and this is going to just seem defensive, but I’m just gonna say it: I’m a fucking Indian woman who has her own fucking network television show, OK? I have four series regulars that are women on my show, and no one asks any of the shows I adore — and I won’t name them because they’re my friends — why no leads on their shows are women or of color, and I’m the one that gets lobbied about these things. And I’ll answer them, I will. But I know what’s going on here. It is a little insulting because, I’m like, God, what can I — oh, I’m sitting in it. I have 75 percent of the lines on the show. And I’m like, oh wait, it’s not like I’m running a country, I’m not a political figure. I’m someone who’s writing a show and I want to use funny people. And it feels like it diminishes the incredibly funny women who do come on my show… I don’t know, it’s a little frustrating.

Kaling is right that she’s held to a double standard. All showrunners should be made to answer for the lack of diversity on their shows and in their writing staff. Mindy Kaling should get asked more questions about her art, and not her symbolic importance. But her answer here is a cop-out that perpetuates that system of unfairness. “I want to use funny people” is the same bullshit justification used to give countless white dudes jobs over other women and people over color. Hearing it from someone on “our side” is incredibly disheartening.

Anyway, sheesh, I’ve already spilt 700 words on my complicated feelings about The Mindy Project, without even delving into such issues as that time it depicted a woman raping a dude as NBD. What I INTENDED to focus on here was one of the specific things I love about The Mindy Project that helps make up for all this stuff in the minus column, and that is Mindy Lahiri’s body image.

Mindy's answer to Varsity Blues — Mindy’s answer to Varsity Blues

Mindy Lahiri knows she’s hot, she’s comfortable saying it (“bet you didn’t think with this bod that I had brains too, and pretty good boobs”), and she takes it as a given that others generally agree. When Mindy slaps a stranger in a case of mistaken identity, she regrets it not because he was innocent, but because he’s a European immigrant, and “he’s gonna go back to his country and say ‘In America, hot girls can do whatever they want.’ That’s a bad message, Danny!”

The importance of Mindy categorizing herself as a “hot girl” is that it means all the times she says her ass won’t quit isn’t just her blowing smoke to cover up her insecurity over her body. Furthermore, the other characters on the show generally DO agree. There have been a few gross jabs at Mindy for her weight, especially in the earlier episodes (Danny tells her in the pilot she should lose 15 pounds if she wants to look nice on a date, and in a later episode gives her the side eye when she [falsely] claims to do the elliptical four times a week), but there have been a parade of hot dudes (including Danny, the Ross to her Rachel!) who want “up in them guts.” In the same episode Mindy declares, “I’m a hot, smart woman with an ass that doesn’t quit,” Morgan describes her as “The Indian doctor whose ass won’t quit?” It’s not a joke that Mindy thinks she’s hot, even if some of the ways she expresses that belief are funny.

"I'm not overweight, I fluctuate between chubby and curvy." — “I’m not overweight, I fluctuate between chubby and curvy.”

Mindy Lahiri isn’t entirely devoid of body insecurity, though. She insists she’s chubby and NOT “overweight.” She has developed a series of “illusions and tricks” to have sex without her partner seeing her naked. She goes through diet and exercise phases to lose weight because she’s “sick of being the person with a good personality.” Which is why Mindy’s body confidence reminds me of selfies, and how they’re simultaneously derided for being an expression of insecurity (what are you trying to hide with that lo-fi filter?) and overconfidence (why do you think we care to see your face again, even if you’ve perfectly executed the cat-eye look?). The truth about being a woman in the patriarchy is that regardless of your closeness to the impossible ideal, you’ll probably feel hot as eff some of the time, completely hideous other times. The Mindy Project captures that perfectly.

Unfortunately, because all the other women on the show are such minor characters, this message all rests on one character and one body: Mindy’s. And one woman who isn’t a skinny white chick is still just one woman.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town.

An Early Take Down of Nice Guys in ‘Broadcast News’

At the time of its release, ‘Broadcast News’ was lauded as feminist for depicting talented, authoritative, driven career women while only mildly pathologizing their dedication to their work. Sure, Jane Craig takes a few minutes out of her busy schedule every day to privately sob, and her personal life is inextricably tied to her work life, but the film does not judge or punish her for her priorities.

But there’s more to ‘Broadcast News’ feminism than women in the workplace. It also presents an ahead-of-its time criticism of the Nice Guy™ phenomenon.

The newsroom of 'Broadcast News' — The newsroom of *Broadcast News*

Growing up, I wanted to grow up to be a nosy reporter. I blame His Girl Friday, Lois Lane, and to a lesser extent, Broadcast News. I wanted to be a fast-talking, four-steps-ahead, take-charge champion of the truth and master of storytelling, just like Holly Hunter’s Jane Craig. That was my childhood proto-feminist power fantasy.

Revisiting the film as an adult, I expected Broadcast News‘ feminism to feel somewhat dated, even though it is less than 30 years old, just barely predating the swell of Third Wave feminism.

At the time of its release, Broadcast News was lauded as feminist for depicting talented, authoritative, driven career women while only mildly pathologizing their dedication to their work. Sure, Jane Craig takes a few minutes out of her busy schedule every day to privately sob, and her personal life is inextricably tied to her work life, but the film does not judge or punish her for her priorities.

But there’s more to Broadcast News‘ feminism than women in the workplace. It also presents an ahead-of-its time criticism of the Nice Guy™ phenomenon.

Jane’s colleague and best friend Aaron Altman (Albert Brooks) is a Nice Guy™. And he’s one of the worst kinds of Nice Guys. On top of the entitlement and resentfulness and extreme self-centeredness, he’s not even remotely nice. He’s sometimes astonishingly mean, especially to Jane, whenever she dares to choose another man over him, personally and/or professionally.

The “Unworthy Jerk” in this case is Tom Grunick (William Hurt), a handsome but dim newscaster being groomed for lead anchor. To his credit, Tom is upfront that he’s uninformed and relatively unintelligent, and seeks Jane’s help because he wants to do better. And to Jane’s credit, she tells him flat-out that she doesn’t have the time to teach him “remedial reporting,” in spite of her attraction to him.

Despite his intellectual shortcomings, Tom is talented on camera, and tries to be a better newsman. He produces a powerful (although it will be revealed, fatally flawed) segment on date rape (which, in perhaps his worst moment, Aaron loudly dismisses as a fluff piece, declaring “you really blew the lid off nookie.” Nice Guys notoriously and dangerously dismiss rape, so this is a crucial detail).

Jane yields to her attraction to Tom as he reveals his competence. When he’s placed as last-minute lead anchor in a breaking news update, Jane is terrified he won’t be mentally up to snuff. But he effortlessly relays the information Jane feeds him through his earpiece and proves his strong presence on camera.

Tom says their interplay was like “great sex,” and it seems they are headed for the real thing. But Jane misses the opportunity when she stops to check in on Aaron while he bitterly indulges in a spectacular bender. I enjoyed seeing that side of the “friendzone” depicted: the actual friendship that goes unacknowledged because the Nice Guy is being deprived the sex he “deserves.” As toxic as their relationship ultimately is, Aaron is Jane’s closest friend, and she shows him a lot of care and support. And he’s perpetually mean and judgmental, under the guise of wanting the best for her. But when he finally confesses his love and she rejects him, he cruelly wishes her a lifetime of loneliness while he finds his happy ending.

Aaron also pettily reveals that Tom unethically re-shot a cutaway to his faked on-camera tears in his date rape piece, prompting Jane to dump him. It’s a relief to the viewer; Tom is ultimately too hollow a person and Jane will never truly respect him, even without this egregious incident focusing her disdain. I hate to agree with Aaron, but Tom is just not good enough for her.. And it is nice that Broadcast News racks up some more proto-feminist points with the “I choose me” resolution to its love triangle.

The film’s epilogue does present some problems. Several years later, we see Aaron did get his happy ending with a wife and adorable child, even though he’s now working in the meager Portland market. Tom has followed his upward career trajectory to the lead anchor position and is engaged to a beautiful blonde. Jane is in the beginning of a relationship, but it may be threatened by her true love, her job, as she moves to New York for a major promotion. I’m relieved Future Jane isn’t a lonely spinster suffering for her choices, but the relationship disparity still feels pointed. And Aaron’s happy ending suggests he’s meant to be a more sympathetic character than he seems to a feminist watching this film in 2014.

But this is no (500) Days of Summer. Even if there is some sympathy for Aaron, there’s also plenty of criticism of his attitudes, and next to none for Jane for not returning his affections. We’re meant to question how much Jane puts into their friendship because of the negative effects on her life, not because it is “unfair” to Aaron. The film pointedly values Jane’s emotional needs more than Aaron ever will, despite his declarations of love. For a film pushing 30 years old, Broadcast News offers quite the nuanced deconstruction of the Nice Guy™ trope.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town who counts the theme song scene in this movie as one of the greatest moments in the history of film.

‘The Amazing Spider-Man 2’: Rise of Electrozzzzzzzz

‘The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Rise of Electro’ is one of those rare movies to opt for a soft open abroad before its US release, so I got to see it a week before y’all. Yay for me, I guess? I won’t spoil anything for you, unless you consider “it’s not very good” to be a spoiler.

Spider-man insists: "No Spoilers!" — Spider-Man insists: “No Spoilers!”

The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Rise of Electro is one of those rare movies to opt for a soft open abroad before its US release, so I got to see it a week before y’all. Yay for me, I guess? I won’t spoil anything for you, unless you consider “it’s not very good” to be a spoiler.

Unlike its predecessor, which was essentially a remake of a movie that was only 10 years old, Amazing Spider-Man 2 is not completely pointless out of the gate. It at least has the opportunity to tell a story we haven’t seen on film before. And all comic book movie sequels benefit from not needing to spend the whole first act on the origin story. But Amazing Spider-Man 2 squanders that advantage with indulgent origin stories for two of the three (!) supervillains in the piece (alongside various goons within the evil Oscorp empire. Like the terrible third installment of the last Spider-Man franchise, Rise of Electro goes for quantity in lieu of quality with its antagonists).

We spend a good bit of time with Jamie Foxx’s Max Dillon before he becomes Electro, and he’s unfortunately one of those “aren’t socially awkward geeks THE WORST and also probably mentally unstable?” characters in a movie that only exists because of a massive fanbase of geeks (some of whom may be socially awkward and/or mentally unstable. I’m all three and I have yet to become a supervillain). And Foxx just isn’t convincing as a socially awkward geek, even with every nerd alert! cliché imaginable up to and including a pocket protector:

Becoming an electricity-controlling villain doesn’t make the character any more interesting. He suffers from the Green Lantern problem of showing little creativity in exercising his phenomenal powers. Dude can decorporealize into electric energy and he pretty much just makes lightning bolts. Electro could be completely eliminated from the movie, and it would still be long enough and have sufficient plot. That’s not a good place to be with your main villain and the subject of your film’s subtitle. (Contrast Captain America 2‘s Winter Soldier, who despite not having much screen time is the catalyst for the highest emotional stakes in the film; and finds more ways to be creatively violent with just super strength and a metal arm than Electro does with godlike powers.)

Dane DeHaan and Harry Osborn — Dane DeHaan as Harry Osborn

Somewhat less bland is Harry Osborn, even though he’s one of the recycled bits from Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man films. Now, Reader, I must confess that around midway through Dane DeHaan’s first scene as Harry, with the same old “poor little rich boy” daddy issues but with a comb-overed rat weasel in the place of James Franco, I turned to my viewing companion and whispered, “I miss the hot one.”

But as soon as DeHaan shared the screen with Andrew Garfield, I wanted to take it all back. Reconnecting with childhood friend Peter, Harry gets much-needed dimension by having something to do other than pout. To my astonishment, the comb-overed rat weasel started to charm me! It helps that DeHaan and Garfield’s chemistry is second only to Garfield and Stone’s, who are ACTUALLY IN LOVE.

Also, weasels are kind of cute! Who knew?

So even when Harry went back to his busy moping and raging schedule, I delighted in DeHaan’s scenery-chewing hyperdrama. He stopped looking so much like a weasel and more like a young Leonardo DiCaprio. Could this dude end up on the countless teen girls’ bedroom walls?

Dane DeHaan as Harry Osborn — Probably not.

My reversal regarding Dane DeHaan reminded me how nice it must be to be a dude actor and not have to be particularly attractive to succeed. Emma Stone is fantastic and all, but maybe there’s a rat-faced Gwen Stacy out there who would have really blown the doors off?

And it’s possible DeHaan was only so interesting to me because I was desperate for something to sustain me through the interminable 142 minutes of this movie. I would have rather spent that time watching that clip of Emma Stone lip synching 57 times in a row, and I suggest you do the same.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town. She cannot do whatever a spider can.

‘Hannibal’s “Feminist Take on Horror” Still Has a High Female Body Count

Tip to showrunners: WE KNOW you can kill anyone off. We’ve been watching TV the last ten years. It is not that shocking anymore, and not even remotely surprising when it is a woman or person of color on the chopping block. Some cast members are more expendable than others, and it’s easy to guess who you think they are. Please stop sacrificing representation on the altar of high drama.

[Spoilers for all the aired episodes of Hannibal ahoy! Yar!]

Hannibal is a show about serial killers, so it’s no shock there’s a high body count. And it isn’t the usual death parade of butchered women that crime thrillers often present. Sady Doyle wrote that Hannibal “takes on the serial-killer cop procedural—one of the most irredeemably woman-hating genres on TV—from a feminist perspective.” Crime shows so often depict women as victims, and victims as bodies. (I’ve long been fascinated by the concept of struggling actresses getting the “break” of playing a cold, naked corpse on a medical examiner’s table, and their families excitedly tuning in to see her silently horizontal in blue-gray makeup, functioning essentially as a prop.)

Hannibal has flipped this archetype. The vast majority of the nameless victims, often naked, usually incorporated into inventively macabre art installations, have been men.

Equal-opportunity artful display of dead bodies.

But women are certainly not spared from violence on this gruesome show: the twist is that Hannibal‘s female victims have mostly been strongly developed as characters before being dispatched. The most devastating deaths on the show have all been women: last season’s long-time-coming murder of Abigail Hobbes, perhaps the only person we’ve seen Hannibal kill with any reluctance, and this season’s huge loss of FBI Agent Beverly Katz.

Even the one-off characters we’ve seen murdered (or at least victimized) have been given complex characterization over the course of their episode, for example the Cotard delusion-suffering Georgia Madchen (Ellen Muth), or Anna Chulmsky’s Clarice Starling stand-in Miriam Lass (recently revealed to be alive, although deeply damaged).

Because the female victims on Hannibal are well-written, sympathetic, and interesting, the audience grieves for them. They are not merely dramatic beats to generate manpain for the dude heroes. (Will Graham nevertheless suffers epic amounts of manpain. This is his design.)

Hannibal clearly takes the murder of women seriously, and uses it as a source of dramatic pathos, not titillation. But an unfortunate consequence of this pattern is that midway through the second season, only one female character in the regular cast remains: Caroline Dhavernas’s Alana Bloom. And she’s a love interest for both Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter (which is not to say she’s been weakly characterized, but does seem to explain her survival).

Hannibal is also running low on women in the recurring cast. Gillian Anderson’s Bedelia Du Maurier exited early in the second season, and the amoral journalist Freddie Lounds (one of several male characters from Thomas Harris’s novels that series developer Bryan Fuller rewrote as female) has only made brief appearances in two episodes this year.

The loss of Hettienne Park as Beverly Katz is particularly devastating, and not only because she was one of the precious stereotype-defying women of color on network TV. Katz’s sardonic sense of humor provided some much-needed comic relief, and her warm friendship with Will was perhaps one of the only psychologically sound relationships presented in the entire series.

And yes, it is immensely frustrating that when the powers that be decide someone important “needs to die” to up the stakes or prove “anyone is expendable” for that someone to be, yet again, a woman of color. (Tip to showrunners: WE KNOW you can kill anyone off. We’ve been watching TV the last ten years. It is not that shocking anymore, and not even remotely surprising when it is a woman or person of color on the chopping block. Some cast members are more expendable than others, and it’s easy to guess who you think they are. Please stop sacrificing representation on the altar of high drama.)

So while Hannibal has a refreshingly compassionate narrative approach to the murder of women (which is a phrase I never imagined I’d write), they’ve got to cool it with killing off the ladies in the cast. And they need to replenish the ranks with more well-crafted female characters, and they’re going to have to stay alive for a while. Because right now we’ve got too many dicks on the dance floor.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer who is now afraid of mushrooms in the wild.