Sci-fi – Page 4 – Bitch Flicks

‘Orphan Black’: It’s All About the Ladies

‘Orphan Black’ is gritty sci-fi with layered mysteries, mistaken (and impersonated) identity, and lots of complicated female characters. The most intriguing part of the show is that many of those multifaceted female characters are played by the same woman, Tatiana Maslany. She portrays all the clones involved in a seemingly nefarious scientific experiment.

Spoiler Alert

Canada’s compelling show Orphan Black will be airing its second season on BBC America this spring, and though Ms Misanthropia reviewed it on Bitch Flicks, I had to weigh in now that I’ve finally had a chance to finish watching the series! Orphan Black is gritty sci-fi with layered mysteries, mistaken (and impersonated) identity, and lots of complicated female characters. The most intriguing part of the show is that many of those multifaceted female characters are played by the same woman, Tatiana Maslany. She portrays all the clones involved in a seemingly nefarious scientific experiment.

At first, I was skeptical of Maslany’s acting abilities because there’s a lot of subtlety and nuance required to play at least nine characters with different upbringings, nationalities, socioeconomic backgrounds, and habits. Not only that, but the clones do a lot of impersonating each other. I was sold when I could tell one clone was impersonating another before the narrative announced it. Each clone’s mannerisms, body language, and even facial expressions are different. Damn. My hat’s off to Maslany who can make her smile different enough that I can tell which character she is without context.

Bravo, Tatyana Manslany. Bravo. — Bravo, Tatiana Maslany. Bravo.

In Orphan Black, the clones are often wildly different from one another, really hammering home the nature over nurture angle, which is an important representation of how women (and other marginalized groups) are affected by their environment. Orphan Black shows us women who thrive due to their environment (Cosima with her scientific brilliance), struggle because of it (grifter Sarah Manning), or become deviant and destructive as a result of it (religious serial killer Helena). There are tweaks made to each of their genetic code that explain away Katya’s respiratory disease, Cosima’s need for glasses as well as her gayness, and perhaps other anomalies among the clones yet to be introduced, but the message is clear that the DNA of these women is virtually identical making the entirety of their development environmentally-based.

The show even tries to give social reasons for the expression or dormancy of homosexuality. — The show gives social reasons for the expression or dormancy of homosexuality.

I also want to take a second to talk about big brained science nerd Cosima, my favorite clone.

Maybe it’s because I, too, am a queer nerd girl, but Cosima’s aptitude for science and her lesbian sexuality are awesome. Where Sarah must use her body to get what she needs (like seducing Paul to distract him from realizing she’s not Beth Childs), Cosima uses her intellect. Cosima is the glue. Without her, the clones wouldn’t be able to do DNA testing or crawl down the rabbit hole of the scientific experimentation that created them. Not only that, but she is the one who discerns that each known clone has a “monitor” to observe and report back on clone activities. This means that Cosima is also capable of understanding and anticipating the psychological factors involved in genetic testing and cloning. It’s great to get to see the nerd girl shine and not be deemed sexless because of her brain power, as her affair with her monitor Delphine is the most engaging of the romances played out in the show.

Delphine & Cosima bond over science geekoutery

Orphan Black showcases great female characters who are strong or interesting or smart or even infuriating, but they’re all unique and full of depth. The series also shows that the path of each clone’s development is dependent upon her environment, which is a huge statement about how oppression and opportunity are what shape us. In order for women to succeed, we must cultivate an environment that encourages achievement, and that means we’ve got to bust up gender norms.

Aggressive & unpredictable serial killer clone Helena — Aggressive and unpredictable serial killer clone Helena

Orphan Black exists on the strength of one actress’s ability to play multiple characters convincingly. Most importantly, it’s a show about a group of women: their lives, their families, their loves, their history, their interaction with each other, their deaths, and, most poignantly, their quest to solve the mystery of their existence. Good stuff, no? It’s getting harder and harder for the media to claim that people won’t watch stories about women, especially in the face of Orphan Black‘s gripping action, great story telling, and superb acting.

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Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

Young Women and Heroism in ‘The Host’

This guest post by Sade Nickels appears as part of our theme week on Child and Teenage Girl Protagonists.

Whether or not The Host is “feminist” or not has been covered by Dr. Natalie Wilson in a particularly interesting piece, as Stephanie Meyers identifies as a feminist. I’m not too into the idea of calling the movie an anti-feminist piece, but its portrayal of young women and their relationships to men is deeply problematic. As Dr. Wilson has questioned and criticized this movie well, I don’t have too much to add except some thoughts about young women and heroism. I do feel obligated to say that this movie is duller than toast and the onslaught of negative reviews it received was well-deserved.

So, this movie is about an Alien race called Souls that invade all the bodies of humans and turn the planet into a peaceful place. One Alien named Wanda gets put into the body of a young girl named Melanie. Melanie does not have control over her body but her presence is still there and she manipulates Wanda into running away from the Soul community to find her little brother and her boyfriend. They find them living with a bunch of other humans who are hiding from the Souls and just trying to get by. Wanda and Melanie work to protect this community from the Souls, but mostly their purpose and justification for their acts of heroism are largely done for the men they love or have fallen or are falling in love with. Very typical and trite, but there are some elements at play that tend to deviate from a traditional hero’s journey.

Is Wanda a girl/teenage female protagonist? Technically she is not “young” as she is 1,000 years old and seemingly immortal, but she is new to Earth so that makes her young in some sense. Also, why would the Souls even have genders that mirror that of humans or have genders at all? The Souls look like beams of light and they probably aren’t even a carbon based species and yet somehow Wanda is a female? So. Frustrating. Nonetheless she is controlling a person’s body who identifies as a teenage girl and is thus somewhat restricted to her occupied body’s feelings, emotions, and categorizations. It is hard to understand why Wanda is a “female” as the audience is given very little information as to what Souls are, where they came from, what their motivations are, or how this parasitic species procreates. Maybe it is covered in the book? Maybe Stephanie Meyer never really thought about it (unlike some authors I know). Either way it a missed opportunity for talking about gender vs. sex or doing anything somewhat subversive.

The dynamic between the two female protagonists in this movie who have to work together and collaborate to be successful for their shared end goals (which is boy saving) is what is most interesting to me when thinking about their roles as heroes and the typical myth of the hero. Melanie is almost a mercenary type. Determined, very occupied with the preservation of her humanity, resistant, manipulative, brave and adept at lying and stealing. Wanda is naive and lost but operates under a strict moral compass of nonviolence and pacifism. The two react to most situations very differently but they learn skills and behaviors from one another. It is the collaboration of these two very different teenage girl characters that allow them to be successful in protecting and aiding the human community.

As mentioned before, Wanda is a pacifist; her actions as a “hero” are conducted nonviolently. In fact her nonviolent action inspires her new community to start acting in the same way. This is a sort of nice refresher to all the kick-ass action heros that have been featured on the big screen. Nonetheless, her character is extremely self-sacrificing and puts herself last in almost every situation. Would have been nice to see a hero who strikes a good balance between operating under a strong moral compass without that being overshadowed by their seemingly low self-worth.

Sade Nickels is a toddler teacher in Seattle who enjoys getting tattoos, reading children’s books and thinking about radicalism.

Sir Patrick Stewart Fights Domestic Violence, Gives Out Hugs, and Flies a Spaceship

And in a society where male revelations about abuse, physical, emotional, or sexual, are still considered a mark of weakness, it’s fantastic that such a successful figure is willing to set an example. Especially when that person is Captain Jean Luc Picard, a super smart, sexy, sensitive, nerves-of-steel spaceship captain. I have a feminist daydream of Kirk (Shatner), Janeway (Mulgrew), Sisco (Brooks), and Picard (Stewart) doing a women’s rights PSA: I would make it my ringtone forever.

Written by Rachel Redfern as part of our theme week on Male Feminists and Allies.

Sir Patrick Stewart being amazing for Amnesty International.

At a spry 78 years old, Sir Patrick Stewart is just as popular as he was 25 years ago in Star Trek: The Next Generation, perhaps even more so now as his persona has popped from talented dramatic actor to powerful women’s rights activist, and an almost mythic status as an all-around amazing human being.

And part of that love and general good feeling toward Sir Stewart is his vulnerable and very personal campaign to end domestic violence, support battered women, and fight for women’s rights. In a world filled with Alec Baldwins, Todd Akins, and Hunter Moores, perhaps we just expect old white men to be entitled and offensive. Similarly, in a world filled with Katy Perrys and Taylor Swifts who insist on denying the need for feminism (how nice for them as wealthy, successful white women) and insisting that they are NOT feminists, it is inspiring to see a man willing to not only own the label, but wear it.

"This is what a feminist looks like" and it looks good. — “This is what a feminist looks like”–and it looks good.

And really, it seems mind-boggling that Sir Stewart is seen as an original, groundbreaking human being when in reality he’s fighting for basic human rights. Why is saying, “Stop Hitting Women” such a unique perspective for a male public figure?

But considering the overwhelming response pretty much every time he steps in front of a camera, millions of people are connecting with him in a profound way. It must come from his willingness to share the painful and intimate details of his own past with domestic violence on a global scale, then turn around, listen to someone else’s story, and respond with empathy and sincere compassion. It probably helps that he does all that in a brilliant English accent and fantastic deep, rich voice—that man could read my stereo instructions and I’d breathlessly wait for a plot twist.

And his interest in women’s causes isn’t just a cause-of-the-day as, let’s be honest, most celebrity causes are only to foster a positive public image and distract from that time they hit a pedestrian while doing 90 MPH in their Porsche. As an obviously huge participant in sci-fi conventions where there is a lot of fan interaction, fans are constantly reporting that he is just as committed to spreading awareness when there’s a line of 300 hundred Deanna Trois and William Rikers waiting to get his autograph as when there’s a microphone and a camera in his face.

One blogger tells of the time she got to ask him a question about his fight against domestic violence at an Austin Comic Con convention panel and he was great; then she asked him a similar question when she was standing in line to talk to him and he made a special point of spending extra time with her discussing resources she might be personally interested in.

Sir Stewart’s involvement with Amnesty International has also led him to be the face of a very public campaign, posting his own and his mother’s experiences of domestic abuse at the hands of his father. And on top of that, adding his public criticism of the police’s handling of that situation; at that point, when his mother tried to report what was happening the police would respond, “Well, you must have done something to make him mad.” Or doctors would assert, “Mrs. Stewart it takes two to make a fight.”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPzVUGE3dds”]

The above stories highlight victim blaming at its finest; an unfortunate, but still daily experience for many women who report sexual assault, stalking, abuse, violence, and even the spread of intimate photos online. But I love that while Stewart is harshly critical of such terrible tactics, he’s also a huge proponent of increasing expectations for men and young boys. People are people, some are good and some are bad, but when the expectation is not, “How could you let him do this to you?” but rather, “How could you treat a fellow human being this way?” victims are treated respectfully and the default condition is “Real people don’t treat other people this way.”

And while we wish that things were better for women (and they sort of are), when the response to Rihanna’s own experience is for Chris Brown to get a tattoo of a battered woman on his neck and then sing at the 2013 VMAs, there’s still a long way to go. (Feminist fantasy number two where Stewart eloquently destroys Brown, shaming him so publicly that banks will freeze his bank accounts, give the money to a battered women’s shelter, and Brown won’t be able to find work as a birthday party entertainer in Wyoming.)

picard — Imagine Chris Brown on the receiving end of this.

The truth of all this is that as much as we love Stewart the actor, we desperately need Stewart the activist as a substantial male proponent of feminism. As with any movement, people need leaders that they can identify with, and as dynamic as Gloria Steinem is, she might not always be the most relatable face for men who are interested in women’s rights.

Sir Patrick Stewart, we salute you (while possibly wearing a Starfleet uniform).

‘Catching Fire’: Protect and Be Protected

It’s protecting these people that stops Katniss from running into the woods and away from her Important Role and Grave Duties. Using family in danger as motivator for heroes is a well-worn trope. Male heroes often “nobly” walk away form their love (see Peter Parker and his love interests in both 21st century film adaptations of Spider-Man) or lose them and are then motivated by their death (see Peter Parker and oh, every other hero ever).

In an inverse of the source material, Catching Fire is a much stronger movie than The Hunger Games. It looks better, the acting is stronger, and the trickiest story elements—including the Katniss-Peeta-Gale love triangle—are handled more gracefully. If you liked the books or the first film, go see Catching Fire immediately. Then come back and read this review, because I’m about to go on a spoiler spree.

Katniss and her sister Prim in Catching Fire — Katniss and her sister Prim in *Catching Fire*

Katniss: We know she’s an Action Hero because her family is in danger.

Katniss got into this situation through desire to protect her family: in the first book/film she volunteers to go to the Hunger Games in her sister Prim’s place. But as a survivor of the 74th Hunger Games and potential symbol of a revolution, every move Katniss makes is monitored by the Capitol. And she’s stubborn enough that she would rather defy their control and be killed. Until she’s reminded they can also hurt her family: her mother, her sister, her best friend/would-be lover Gale, and even her “management team” for her role as tribute/victor.

Too often female action heroes are a) not motivated at all, because they’re just “Fighting fuck toys” b) motivated only by their own survival, becoming heroes only by failing to become victims. So trite as it may be, seeing Katniss as the cliched tortured protector of her loved ones was satisfying for me.

BUT EVERYONE ELSE MUST PROTECT KATNISS!

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch walking between Capitol Peacekeepers

While Katniss is busy trying to keep her loved ones alive, everyone else (with the exception of President Snow and the other sinister Capitol forces who want her dead) is focused on keeping her alive. Peeta volunteers for the Quarter Quell games to keep Katniss alive, even though that means his certain death. Haymitch and Effie both conspire behind the scenes to help Peeta keep Katniss alive, even though Haymitch promises to focus his efforts on saving Peeta. And then they’re all the people who don’t even know Katniss who are fixated on her survival because of her value to the rebellion in Panem: she’s their Mockingjay, a symbol of hope that the Captiol is not all-powerful. After the climax we learn that half the tributes (including the brash Johanna Mason and the sex symbol Finnick O’Dair) allied with Katniss and Peeta with the express goal of getting her out of the arena alive. Even the Head Gamemaker is a secret agent for the rebellion, which only makes sense if you want it to.

Everyone wants Katniss alive and she almost ends up dead around 30 times this movie. Even though she’s a badass who can shoot anything at any speed from any angle (and apparently generate arrows in her quiver through sheer willpower). I realize the Hunger Games arena—and the dystopia of Panem more generally—are horrifying deathscapes that kill plenty of badasses, but it’s frustrating that Katniss’s proven survival abilities are more or less dismissed by her many protectors. Meanwhile Peeta, who’s showcase survival skill is CAKE DECORATING, is pretty much left on his own and at one point better trusted to protect vital engineer Beetee (although that might be a ruse to actually protect Katniss? I’m confused on that point but either way, sheesh).

While Katniss is loveable and Important for the World, it does get a little tiresome having every person around her either trying to kill her or trying to save her. It takes away from the individual agency that makes the character so satisfying and iconic for us in the first place.

But this isn’t enough to take Catching Fire down. Katniss is still a great character and Jennifer Lawrence is even better than usual (which is saying something) in this role. The story is still fascinating and this installment of the film series is absolutely captivating. It would be wonderful if the next film continues this trend of improvement, and the bizarre network of protect-and-be-protected relationships in Panem is handled more delicately (and knowing where the story goes, I’m hopeful).

Notes from the Telluride Film Festival: Reviews of ‘The Invisible Woman’ and ‘Gravity’

Usually movies with such mainstream blockbuster potential are not portrayed at Telluride Film Festival. Telluride opts for more artistic limited release movies. But I suspect Cuaron’s credibility, including casting a woman in the lead over Clooney, made it a Telluride film.

Still from The Invisible Woman — Still from *The Invisible Woman*

This is a guest post by Atima Omara-Alwala.

The Woman Behind Charles Dickens: A Review of the Film The Invisible Woman

“You men live your lives, while we are left behind. I see no freedom where I stand!” yells protagonist Ellen Ternan at a Dickens’ colleague.

Ternan is the mistress of renowned English novelist Charles Dickens. And that sums up the movie The Invisible Woman. Ternan became the 18-year-old mistress to then 45-year-old Charles Dickens, who was at the height of his fame. Based on the novel of the same name, it accounts their life together, the scandal it caused, as Dickens was still married to his wife. While the film is meant to be focused on this torrid affair between Dickens and Ternan it, by extension, is a telling of the unfortunate status of women in the Victorian era.

English actor Ralph Fiennes, a celebrated actor of his generation (Schindler’s List, Quiz Show, The English Patient, The End of the Affair, to name a few) plays the larger than life Charles Dickens and Felicity Jones plays Ellen Ternan. Invisible Woman is the second film Fiennes directed after Coriolanus.

The Invisible Woman is sumptuous in its costumes and details of the Victorian era, but occasionally lacks in the chain that builds up to the affair. Ternan, whose family of moderately successful actors are good friends of Dickens, finds herself in his company due to a play he is building. You instantly see why Dickens falls for Ternan–she is young, spirited, and passionate about his novels and short stories. Jones’ Ternan does a good job in not overdoing the “fan girl” role, as that can cross over to creepy rather quickly. Her love and understanding of his books touches Fiennes’ Dickens perhaps because his wife doesn’t seem that invested in his work and Ellen is rather young and pretty. One also suspects her adoration soothes his ego. Chats of his works turn to meaningful conversations of life ,which pale in comparison to the awkward stilted and physically passionless relationship that exists between Dickens and his wife, Catherine.

Felicity Jones in The Invisible Woman — Felicity Jones in *The Invisible Woman*

Ternan finds herself at a crossroads in her relationship with Dickens, as her family realizes his adoration of her and her growing affection for him. While she hopes to become an actress, it is made clear to her by the women in her family that she is not good enough to survive in the profession. Since she has not too much formal educational training, any money to inherit, or other marital prospects, the best she can hope for is a relationship with Dickens, who cannot divorce his wife in Victoria era England. But can provide for Ternan. It is not a “choice” that thrills her, especially as she views Dickens’ callousness toward his wife–which includes but is NOT limited to a public letter in the London Times announcing he and his wife (unbeknownst to his wife) have agreed to separate (worse than texting your ex you’re through with them) and forcing his wife to deliver a gift meant for Ternan but accidentally delivered to her so (in Dickens’ mind) the wife can see for herself nothing exists between them.

I personally love Charles Dickens’ writings and thought he was quite the advocate for justice for the poor, but I was stunned at the sheer humiliation he put his wife through. You can imagine Ternan’s thoughts: if he’s that callous to the women who bore TEN of his children, how the hell is he going to treat me?

My biggest complaint was, while I saw a chemistry between Fiennes and Jones, the buildup was not always potent enough for me to think this was supposed to be the renowned passionate affair it apparently was. The timeline was fuzzy at times. Fiennes is outstanding per usual as the larger than life author, and Jones is an ingénue with promise who perhaps reached her limits in playing an older and wiser Ternan after Dickens’ passing, trapped in reflection and struggling to free herself from his ghost. Either way, go see it, if for nothing else to no more about this author and see another outstanding Ralph Fiennes performance.

Movie poster for Gravity — Movie poster for *Gravity*

A Brilliant Woman Hero: A Review of the Film Gravity

If you ever doubted a woman could literally reach for the stars, Sandra Bullock changes your mind in her performance as Dr. Ryan Stone, a brilliant astronaut who becomes a hero in Gravity. The film is directed by Alfonso Cuaron, who also directed A Little Princess (1995), Y Tu Mamá También (2001), and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004). Gravity is a 3D movie with George Clooney as Bullock’s co star. Clooney plays fellow astronaut, Matt Kowalsky.

Dr. Stone and Kowalsky, along with others, are in space on a mission when debris from a satellite crashes into their space shuttle Explorer, killing most of their crew. Dr. Stone and Kowalsky (on limited oxygen) must find a way to survive.

Sandra Bullock in Gravity — Sandra Bullock in *Gravity*

Bullock is wonderfully nuanced in her role as Dr. Ryan Stone and I can see why reviews coming back from Venice International Film Festival have her touted for another Oscar nomination. Cuaron portrays a complex, brilliant astronaut with a sad past who is driven by her work. With her male colleagues (particularly Clooney’s Kowalsky, whom she interacts the most with), she confidently holds her own in what she does. When the space shuttle is hit, and Dr. Stone–a less experienced astronaut–is sent flying into space in a breathtaking 3D moment, she is rightfully panicked. I worried she might become the damsel in distress that Kowalsky rescues, but Bullock does not take you into unnecessary hysterics. If anything, the 3D movie makes the audience more empathetic to how scary the reality of flying untethered into space is. The rest of the movie is an exercise in her using her mental and physical reserves to brainstorm her way out of hairy situations, while the debris still in orbit rotates back around every so often to threaten her survival. I found myself mentally cheering her on as I think all viewers–especially women–will to the end.

Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on eight federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment and leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.

It’s ‘About Time’ for a Strong Family Narrative

Everyone loves a feel-good story about an awkward ginger falling in love and bonding with his family! About Time follows the life of Tim (Domhnall Gleeson), a young lawyer whose father (Bill Nighy) informs him on his 21st birthday that he has the ability to time travel. Specifically, that all the men in his family have the ability to time travel. I was a little bit perplexed that the women are kept in the dark about the family secret, but I guess it’s a metaphor for paternal bonding or whatever. Tim immediately endeavors to use his newfound gift to find a girlfriend, which feels slightly immature for a guy who’s out of school and in a steady career. Nevertheless, Gleeson keeps the tone light and heartwarming. Tim soon meets Mary (Rachel McAdams) and makes frequent use of his time travel to ensure that every aspect of their relationship development is perfect.

Written by Erin Tatum.

Everyone loves a feel-good story about an awkward ginger falling in love and bonding with his family! About Time follows the life of Tim (Domhnall Gleeson), a young lawyer, whose father (Bill Nighy) informs him on his 21st birthday that he has the ability to time travel. Specifically, that all the men in his family have the ability to time travel. I was a little bit perplexed that the women are kept in the dark about the family secret, but I guess it’s a metaphor for paternal bonding or whatever. Tim immediately endeavors to use his newfound gift to find a girlfriend, which feels slightly immature for a guy who’s out of school and in a steady career. Nevertheless, Gleeson keeps the tone light and heartwarming. Tim soon meets Mary (Rachel McAdams) and makes frequent use of his time travel to ensure that every aspect of their relationship development is perfect.

charlotte — Tim initially sets his sights on Charlotte.

What I like about Tim is that he’s flawed in a relatively benign way. While we’ve been conditioned as viewers to see the lead roles as starcrossed lovers, despite Tim’s undeniable love for Mary, he’s indiscriminate. He doesn’t really care who he falls in love with as long as he’s in love. As a testament to this, the film devotes a surprisingly large amount of time to showing his failed conquest of his first love, Charlotte (Margot Robbie). Far from the traditional notions of Hollywood romance, Mary arguably only becomes Tim’s true love because she was the first girl to give him a chance. Tim even goes on an ambiguous date with Charlotte while he’s dating Mary, wherein Charlotte predictably expresses playful remorse for initially rejecting him and makes a move. Tim carefully cuts it off just short of cheating – only by a hair’s breadth – to avoid venturing into unsympathetic protagonist territory. (He conveniently runs home to Mary and spontaneously proposes.) I will say that I’m not a fan of bringing Charlotte back into the narrative to encourage the audience to thumb their nose at her and feed into smug Nice Guy vindictiveness. However, I do like that Tim and Mary are just sort of together out of coincidence because it proves that you don’t always need an epic back story or a lot of angst to be happy with someone.

I have some concerns about female agency in this movie. Tim meets Mary several times with varying degrees of success. He redoes their initial conversation so much that he ironically lands a date with her by using her own opinions verbatim from previous attempts. He discovers through his lackluster interactions with Charlotte that even time travel and the clairvoyance that it brings can’t force someone to fall in love with him, but his experiences with Mary suggest otherwise. Sure, Mary was attracted to him from the start and you could conclude that any little tweaks Tim made wouldn’t have that much of an impact if they truly were “meant to be.” Obsessively manipulating every tiny aspect of your relationship to meet your idealized standards doesn’t exactly feel like you’re allowing the chemistry to develop organically. There’s definitely something uncomfortable about picking a random girl as your love object and then meticulously premeditating everything until she’s basically a blank slate for the perfect partner. That’s not really liberating for Mary. It’s the (500) Days of Summer mentality minus the petulant entitlement.

These problematic aspects are mostly redeemed in that the romance isn’t actually the heart of the story. Refreshingly enough, Tim’s relationships with his family quickly come back to the foreground to pack more of an affective punch than sappy a love story ever could on its own. I’ve never seen the main romance as a faux A-plot in a romcom-esque drama and I couldn’t have enjoyed that twist more. The bond between Tim and his father turns out to be the most emotional aspect of the film. At times, I found Tim’s dizzy sister Kit Kat (Lydia Wilson) airy fairy to the point of being almost obnoxiously childlike, but Wilson and Gleeson have a phenomenal, easy chemistry that evens out her frayed edges. They’re one of my favorite brother/sister relationships in recent memory. Although Tim is clearly protective of her, it’s never overbearing or controlling. When Kit Kat turns to drinking to deal with her abusive boyfriend and gets into a car crash, Tim tries unsuccessfully to undo events before realizing that she needs to make the decision to better her life choices on her own. Somewhat implausibly, she has this epiphany in a few short sentences and finds new love and stability with Tim’s geeky best friend Jay (Will Merrick, bizarrely playing Gleeson’s peer despite a ten year age gap). I much prefer Tim and Kit Kat’s relationship as partners in crime to the romanticized possessiveness of brothers over sisters. I also think the fact that Tim was unable to protect her from all the bad things in life and gently encouraged her to make changes herself is much more realistic. People can get wrapped up in their lives and not notice what’s going on with their family, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they love them any less or should feel obligated to beat themselves up. They can still do the best they can as a support system. The only person I wish had been explored more is Tim’s mom. Oh well, I guess you can’t expect everyone to be totally developed. It’s just strange given that everyone else in his family seems so close.

Tim's dad comforts him after breaking the news of his diagnosis. — Tim’s dad comforts him after breaking the news of his diagnosis.

A few unexpected plot twists keep things from becoming stale and work to set limits on the God complex of time travel. Tim takes Kit Kat back in time to stop her from meeting her abusive boyfriend after the car crash, which happened to occur on the day of his daughter’s first birthday. Things appear to go off without a hitch until to his horror, he returns home to a completely different child. His dad explains that he can’t go back in time past the birth of his child because it would effectively create a sperm roulette and produce different children every time, meaning that events are set in stone with the birth of each of his future children. This caveat acquires heart wrenching significance when his dad is diagnosed with terminal cancer. He and Tim continue to spend time together through time travel after his death, but it isn’t long before Mary announces she wants another baby. The meetings between father and son must come to a close. (Although I’m not quite sure how they happen. He can’t time travel because he’s dead. If Tim travels back, isn’t it just his memory of his dad? How does he continue to live? If he is “alive,” it’s a bit rude to leave your dad in purgatory.) Their final scene together is a massive tearjerker. Tim ultimately decides to stop time traveling altogether and live each day to the fullest. Even if you have the power to live every moment again, sometimes the present is perfect enough.

‘Elysium’: A Sci-Fi Immigration Parable

Elysium Movie Poster

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

I was surprised that I not only liked, but was impressed by Elysium. I had my doubts because it’s a Hollywood blockbuster, and their interpretation of the tenets of sci-fi usually leaves much to be desired. Also, I just really, really don’t like Matt Damon and his…face. The film centers around a poverty-stricken dystopian Earth and the lavishly constructed off-world satellite habitat, Elysium, where only the rich and powerful are allowed to live. Elysium doesn’t do much that’s interesting with gender, but its focus on class and race relations, particularly on immigration, is the heart and soul of this film.

There are only three women of note in Elysium. Matt Damon’s character, Max, is an orphan raised in a religious orphanage. There is one nun who doesn’t see him as a hopeless trouble-maker with no hope of a future. The film implies that many impoverished children who turn to crime have little in their home lives to bolster them and give them a sense of self-worth. This nun instills in young Max a sense of purpose, insisting that he has a destiny every bit as important as anyone on Elysium. Though this nun is compassionate, she exists primarily to show why Max is at his core a good person despite the hardness of his life and in spite of his path of crime.

Then there’s Alice Braga’s Frey, a nurse who was Max’s childhood sweetheart. Frey has “made something of herself” and has a daughter, Matilda, who is dying. Frey, too, exists only as Max’s love interest and a symbol of motherhood. Frey is constantly under threat of rape by psychotic ex-military Kruger (played by Sharlto Copley) and his men who have kidnapped her in order to force compliance from Max. The looming threat of sexual violence only exists to showcase the effect such an eventuality would have on our hero. Frey would also risk everything to get her daughter to Elysium where healing machines are readily available in every home to cure her daughter of her terminal illness. The selfless, sacrificing mother is not a new or even interesting trope in cinema.

Frey becomes increasingly distressed as her daughter slips into a coma.

Finally, we have Jodie Foster’s Delacourt, Elysium’s Secretary of Defense. Delacourt is cold and casually cruel. Her power is not only emasculating, but she is a dangerous nationalist who resorts to illegality in order to protect the purity of Elysium from “illegals” who land on the satellite’s surface in rogue shuttles before scattering in the hopes of blending with Elysium citizens or at least acquiring medical care before being deported back to Earth. Delacourt has a great deal of power that she exercises freely, and she is extremely intelligent and even brilliant in the machinations of her overblown patriotism. However, the severe, emotionless, tyrannical female power figurehead is also not a new trope, and there’s little that makes Delacourt a complex or engaging character.

Jodi Foster’s sterile white pantsuit blends with the sterile white walls of Elysium’s “Administration.”

What is interesting about Elysium, however, is its overwhelmingly non-white cast. Most of the characters are Latino or Black, and it seems the primary language on Earth is Spanish. Our Earth setting is Los Angeles. Many of these disenfranchised inhabitants of Earth (including Max) are employed in manufacturing, spending their days making the very robots that secure Elysium against them. (They were pretty fucking cool robots, though.) Aside from Matt Damon, most of the white characters are either privileged people of wealth or figures of authority who are shown in a negative light. In fact, all the white characters with speaking roles are coded as “bad guys.” The racial dynamics in this film crystallize its sci-fi allegory for immigration.

Technological genius and champion for immigrant citizenry, Spider, proposes a dangerous job to Max and his friend Julio.

After showing the desolation of Earth and the dire, unequal plight of its inhabitants, what is the solution Elysium poses to the so-called “immigration problem”? Indiscriminate citizenry for all. The tale becomes a fantasy of upending a brutal system that favors the wealthy few over the needs of the many, of destroying a government that privileges whiteness, denying rights and quality of life from people of color. That is a powerful, subversive fantasy that strikes very close to home. That, my friends, would mean revolution.

It certainly bothers me that Hollywood thinks our hero, Max, must be a white dude in order for his story to resonate with audiences, in order to lay bare the atrocities of the U.S’s immigrant situation (with Mexico in particular) in such a way that audiences can understand it. Without completely shifting the racial dynamics, Elysium becomes a version of White Man’s Burden, assuming that audiences can’t empathize with a hero of color and cannot put themselves in the hero’s shoes unless they can racially identify with him. There are two fallacies in this notion, 1.) that the default human being is a man, and 2.) that the default human being is a white man.

Elysium orbits Earth.

I can only hope that one day, Hollywood will realize it’s wrong about its insistence on white male leads in films…and that Hollywood will actually be wrong about it. Hey, a blockbuster that wears its immigration agenda on its sleeve is something you don’t see very often, so maybe we’re getting closer to the day when we don’t have to hide behind genre to tell a topical political tale and the day when we don’t need to have a white man tell us such an important story.

Women in Science Fiction Week: Princess Leia: Feminist Icon or Sexist Trope?

Princess Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

When I was a young girl, Star Wars was my favorite movie. I’ve watched it more times than any other film. Premiering in 1977, the same year I was born, the epic sci-fi space opera irrevocably changed the movie industry. Beyond battle scenes, or the twist of Vader being Luke’s father, it impacted my childhood. Because Princess Leia was my idol.

In the Star WarsTrilogy, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan (Carrie Fisher) was a member of the Imperial Senate, a diplomat and a spy for the Rebel Alliance. Courageous and determined, she boasted a defiant will. Leia boldly spoke her mind. And it’s what resonated the most with me.

When I was 7, my mom sewed a Princess Leia costume for me for Halloween. A white dress with a hood cinched by a sparkly belt and accompanied by a plastic light saber. Yes, I realize Leia didn’t wield a light saber in the movies but she did have a laser gun. I continued to wear that costume long after Halloween. Every week (sometimes multiple times in a week), I would pop in our VHS of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, don my white dress and act out Princess Leia’s scenes. I probably would have worn that costume to school if my mother had let me.

Looking back, why did Leia have to be a princess? Why did she have to bear a title that too often symbolizes hyperfemininity, passivity and sexualization? Why couldn’t she have been the President’s daughter or a merely a Senator? So yes, Leia is a princess. But she’s a badass warrior princess — a precursor to the rise of the warrior princesses we’re currently seeing today.

Princess Leia captured by Stormtroopers in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

In the very first scenes of Star Wars, we see Leia shoot a laser gun. Yeah, she gets captured. But she didn’t go down without a fight. When she’s taken hostage, Leia unflinchingly stands up to Darth Vader, who intimidates everyone. But not her. She remains defiant. She stands up to Governor Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander too as we witness in this compelling exchange:

Princess Leia:Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.

Governor Tarkin:Charming to the last. You don’t know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.

Princess Leia: I’m surprised that you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself.

Governor Tarkin:Princess Leia, before your execution, I’d like you to join me for a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.

Princess Leia: The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.

Even after she’s tortured by Vader, she refuses to reveal the location of the Rebel Base. When Grand Moff Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander, threatens Leia to reveal the location of the Rebel Base or they’ll destroy her home planet of Alderaan, she lies disclosing a false location.

When Luke Skywalker, Han Solo and Chewbacca stage a rescue, Leia isn’t automatically obsequious. She immediately questions Luke when he’s disguised as a Stormtrooper with her infamous line, “Aren’t you a little short for a Stormtrooper?” When they’re all trapped, Leia takes matters into her own hands and shoots their way into a garbage chute, telling them, “Well somebody has to save our skins.” Leia continues to retain her grip of control when she tells Han: “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but from now on you’ll do as I tell you, okay?”

Of course he horrifyingly says to Luke, “If we can just avoid any more female advice, we ought to be able to get out of here.” Nice. So men shouldn’t listen to a fucking diplomatic senator. Oh no. Why? Clearly, because they have vaginas.

L-R: Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), Leia (Carrie Fisher) and Han Solo (Harrison Ford) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

Even though Leia has romantic feelings for Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back, she continues to call out his arrogant bullshit. She quips snappy retorts such as, “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookie” and “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.” She’s never at a loss for words and never afraid to express herself.

She also has burgeoning psychic powers as she picks up on Luke’s cries for help at the end of the film. Obi-Wan tells Yoda when Luke Skywalker leaves Dagobah, “That boy is our last hope.” But Yoda wisely tells him, “No, there is another,” cryptically referring to Luke’s twin sister Leia.

In Return of the Jedi, Leia puts herself in harm’s way posing as a bounty hunter to save Han. Sadly, after she’s captured by Jabba the Hut, she’s notoriously objectified and reduced to a sex object in the iconic metal bikini, essentially glamorizing and eroticizing slavery. And of course she needs to be rescued. Again.

Leia gets rescued. A lot. And that’s incredibly frustrating and annoying. But Leia often subverts the sexist Damsel in Distress trope. She takes matters into her own hands to free herself and others, whether it’s shooting their way into the garbage chute in Star Wars, shooting Stormtroopers, rescuing Han (Return of the Jedi), rescuing Luke (Empire Strikes Back), or killing Jabba the Hutt. Even when she’s being rescued, Leia always spouts her acerbic opinions, refuses to back down, and asserts her identity.

Princess Leia advising Rebel pilots in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

Throughout the trilogy, we see Leia lead and dispense tactical information to Rebel fighters. But ultimately, her underlying role appears to be to motivate Luke on his hero’s quest and Han on his personal transformation. Although George Lucas’ original ending with Leia coronated as Queen of the survivors of Alderaan sounds pretty amazing. It also would have been great to see her begin training as a Jedi, something the books explore. But even when you have a strong female protagonist, like Leia, her story must take a back seat to the dudes.

Now, I love Star Wars. But if you stop and think about the Star Wars Trilogy, it’s pretty shitty to women.

We only ever see 3 women — Princess Leia, Mon Mothma, Aunt Beru (Luke’s aunt) — who aren’t slave girls or dancers. Men make decisions, lead battles, pilot planes, smuggle goods and train as Jedis. It’s men, men, men as far as the eye can see. Hell, even the robots are dudes.

Wicket the Ewok and Princess Leia in Episode VI: Return of the Jedi

The entire Star Wars Trilogy suffers from the Smurfette Principle. The fact that there are no other women for Leia to talk to or interact with perpetuates the notion that women’s lives ultimately revolve around men. With a marketing campaign — if you look at the poster for each film — turned Leia into nothing more than a sex object (and of course aided by the metal bikini) reifying the idea that women’s bodies belong solely to tantalize the male gaze.

Boys and men see numerous male characters to emulate. But for girls and women? We get one. Leia. Well, unless you count Aunt Beru or Mon Mothma, both of whom only get like 60 seconds of screen-time. Leia exists as the sole token female.

“In Star Wars, a boy can grow up to be a knight, or a wizard. But if you’re a girl, you have one good role model…But you better be born a princess or good at space hooking cause those are your options.”

Why ‘Star Wars’ Is Secretly Terrifying for Women — powered by Cracked.com

As the above video from Crackedastutely points out, all the women in the Star Wars Trilogy are space strippers, aside from Leia, Aunt Beru and Mon Mothma (a Republic senator and co-founder of the Rebellion, aka the red-haired woman in Return of the Jediwho gives tactical orders to the rebels). The Cracked writers also assert that Leia is actually a terrible female role model because she ditches her duties with the Rebellion to save her man (although so do the dudes) and then blows up Jabba’s barge which was filled with other slave women. Okay, that’s pretty douchey, Leia.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that Star Wars is 35 years old. But even in the Prequel Trilogy, we haven’t come much further. While we definitely see more women — Queen Padme Amidala, Shmi Skywalker (Anakin’s mother), Naboo queens Queen Apailana and Queen Jamillia, Jedi Knights Staas Allie and Aayla Secura, Jedi Master Depa Billaba, Queen Breha Organa (Leia’s adoptive mother), Zam Wessell (bounty hunter who attempts to kill Padme) — only Padme and Shmi receive any focus. And of course their lives revolve around men. Actually, their lives around one man: Anakin. Yes, Padme is a political leader. But her role as birth mother to Leia and Luke and her death fueling Anakin’s anger trump any individuality she possesses. Both Padme and Shmi die tragically; both women’s purpose in the films serves to explain why Anakin turned to the Dark Side.

Clearly, sexism and racism plague the Star Wars Trilogy. Really, only 3 women speak, only 3 women aren’t strippers and only 1 black person…in the whole fucking galaxy?! Gee thanks, George Lucas.

Princess Leia in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

If it seems like I vacillate between hailing Leia a feminist icon and condemning her a sexist trope, it’s because I’m torn. Leia is a spirited, fearless and fierce female protagonist. She kicks ass. Yet she exists in a fictitious galaxy mired by sexism where women barely exist that continually puts men — their stories, their perspectives, their struggles — front and center.

Despite its massive gender and race problems, Princess Leia aided me through my childhood. For a mouthy, opinionated little girl who was always getting in trouble for voicing their thoughts, Leia emulated a confident and rebellious woman. She had crucial duties and responsibilities as a leader and revolutionary. But she didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Unafraid to let her temper flare, she spoke her mind regardless of the consequences.

In a world that so often silences women’s and girls’ voices, Leia shone as a beacon of hope. Not only did she teach me women could be political leaders and fight for freedom. But she affirmed that women can and should fearlessly speak their minds and take charge of their lives.