Tag: Sexism

Goodbye Forever, ’30 Rock’

Written by Max Thornton.
 
If you care at all about popular culture and feminism, you may have noticed that last Thursday seven years of television history came to an end.
 
30 Rock had a complicated relationship with feminism. Linda Holmes of NPR’s Monkey See wrote an excellent article on the difference between what 30 Rock wasand what it did:
I have never considered Liz Lemon a feminist icon of any kind, nor have I ever considered 30 Rock especially strong when it comes to gender politics.
I don’t care for the obsessive joke-making about how Liz is ugly/mannish/old/awkward, and I haven’t always been comfortable with the way some of the “she’s baby-crazy!” or “she’s relationship-crazy!” comedy has played. …
And yet, I think it’s been one of the most important, helpful, meaningful, landscape-altering shows for women in the history of television.
No assessment of 30 Rock can escape the unfortunate but inevitable tendency to scrutinize every aspect of a female-led show to an unreasonable degree – most of all its creator. Exhibit A is, of course, poor Lena Dunham. The misogynists are looking for any excuse to hate a successful woman, while we feminists are dreaming of intersectional perfection that the mainstream media is never going to provide. As a result, conversations about 30 Rock are inseparable from conversations about Tina Fey. Which at least is an excuse to link to this.
Luckily, 30 Rock was (it feels so weird to be using the past tense) a show with a strong sense of the meta, and as such it pretty much demands contextualization.
A few years ago, Overthinking It pointed out that 30 Rock looked like a staunchly liberal show – “from far away, if you squint.” Once you start paying attention, though, neocon Jack Donaghy tends to be in the right, and the joke is almost always at the expense of Liz Lemon, the leftist comedy writer and (to at least some extent) Tina Fey self-insert characer.
There’s a kind of self-parody you do around friends which you might avoid more publicly, because you know your friends know you’re kidding. My friends and I tend to Godwineach other with wild abandon, because we spend so much time on the internet that we enjoy its utter absurdity. In a discussion with a stranger, though, I probably wouldn’t throw around the wanton Hitler analogies, since there’s a risk they wouldn’t get the joke.
One of the things that was simultaneously endearing and frustrating about30 Rock was its frequent usage of that friends-only self-parody material. When it worked, it made you feel like a good friend of the show and of Tina Fey, sharing in a self-critical but ultimately loving humor. When it didn’t work, it was awful. (Remember the season-five sleep-rape controversy?) A lot of the time, though, it was hard to tell which side of the line the show was on.

This A.V. Club review of a December 2012 episode asserts that “30 Rock is one of the few shows that can cleverly get way with joking about stereotypical female behaviors, such as everyone rushing to the bathroom at the same time or being unable to work the projector, without getting offensive.” I’m not entirely sure I agree with that. Andrew Ti of Yo, Is This Racist? illustrates the problem with the example he sometimes uses, of the season six episode that features Jon Hamm in blackface. In the context of the episode, the brief skit is parodying TV’s history of blackface. That might potentially be a reasonably clever joke, but, as Ti has pointed out on his site and in his podcast, we live in a media culture where things get taken out of context all the time and people have short attention spans, and what that means is that there’s just a gif floating around the internet of Jon Hamm in blackface. I’m inclined to think it’s just hopelessly irresponsible to make jokes like that when you know how widely your material is circulating.
Having said that, 30 Rock had a tough job to do: trying to appeal to as broad an audience as possible, while still maintaining its distinctive voice and viewpoint. And did it ever have a distinctive voice. If, before I saw the episode, I had come across the finale’s line “Hogcock. Which is a combination of hogwash and poppycock,” I couldn’t have mistaken it for a joke from any other show. It’s a style of humor and a general set-up that simply won’t appeal to everyone, and it never translated to particularly high ratings. To avoid alienating uncommitted viewers further, I think the show sometimes had to pull back from fully supporting specific ideals – I seem to recall a number of feminist blogs complaining that the end of the infamous Jezebel-parodying season five episode “TGS Hates Women” was a cop-out, forcing in some unlikely circumstances to avoid actually engaging with the issues it had raised.
Ultimately, I agree with Linda Holmes, that 30 Rock was willing to sacrifice pretty much anything for the sake of a joke. In the end, its effects on the TV landscape are more feminist than its content ever was; but it was a damn funny show, written by and starring a damn funny woman, and I miss it already.
Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Did We Have a Pro-Woman Golden Globes? by Renee Martin via Womanist Musings 

A Salute to Girl Power in Hollywood by Alessandra Stanley via New York Times

Jodie Foster Coming Out: “This Is Something for Us” by Haviland Stillwell via AutoStraddle

New York Times Says “Female Directors Gain Ground Slowly.” Should We Wait That Long? by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

Denzel and Quvenzhane Are the Only Actors of Color Nominated for Oscars by Jorge Rivas via ColorLines

Oscar and the Film Industry: Still a Men’s Club by Rachel Kassenbrock via Ms. Magazine

Kathryn Bigelow Oscar Snub: Does the Academy Hate Female Directors? by Christopher Zara via International Business Times

Parenthood Bravely Tackles Abortion by Willa Paskin via Salon

Why Girls Still Matters in Season 2 by Karensa Cadenas via Women and Hollywood

From M to Hushpuppy: The Best Flawed Female Characters of 2012 by Alyssa Rosenberg via The XX Factor

The Hobbit: Why Are There No Women in Tolkien’s World? by Ruth Davis Konigsberg via Time

Totally Rational Prediction: Women Will Rule Cable TV in 2013 by Alyssa Rosenberg via The XX Factor

Natalie Portman and Kristen Stewart Top Forbes’ List of Most Bankable Actors by Rebecca Pahle via The Mary Sue

The Hobbit: A Gender-Bending Journey by Natalie Wilson via Ms. Magazine

Teen Motherhood: When “Reality TV” Doesn’t Fully Reflect Reality by Avital Norman Nathman via RH Reality Check

Please share what you’ve been reading or writing this week in the comments!

2013 Golden Globes Week: ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ Raises Questions On Gender and Torture, Gives No Easy Answers

Jessica Chastain as Maya in Zero Dark Thirty

Written by Megan Kearns. | Warning: Spoilers ahead!!

Driven, relentless, bad-ass women in film always hold a special place in my heart. Ripley from Alien and Aliens, Patty Hewes from Damages, Carrie Mathison from Homeland. Maya, the female protagonist of Zero Dark Thirty, is no exception. But can a film be feminist if it depicts horrific violations of human rights?

Played effortlessly by Jessica Chastain, Maya is a smart, tenacious and perceptive CIA analyst who navigates the 10-year hunt for al-Qaeda terrorist leader Osama bin Laden. Intense and focused, she relentlessly pursues her work with one singular goal: finding bin Laden. Unyielding, she refuses to give up. She’s a cinematic version of Carrie Mathison. Interestingly both women have an irrefutable compass when it comes to being right. They boldly trust and follow their uncanny instincts.
Zero Dark Thirtyis riveting, fascinating and jarring. It assaults the senses with evocative images, haunting music, booming explosions and chilling 911 calls on 9/11. Powerful and exquisitely crafted by Kathryn Bigelow, it is unrelenting in its vision.

As Candice Frederick asserts, Maya anchors and propels the film. With a woman at the center of this story, it’s hard not to question gender. Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t overtly discuss gender politics, as Bigelow points out. Yet it reveals gender dynamics in subtle and important ways.

In the beginning of the film, Maya appears queasy about torture. Yet she refuses to turn away. When Dan (Jason Clarke), another CIA analyst, says she can watch the interrogation on video, she insists on being in the room. Early on, a colleague calls her a “killer,” a moniker that doesn’t quite seem to fit her composed demeanor and soft-spoken voice. Or is that supposed to challenge our stereotypical gender assumptions? But it certainly fits as the film progresses.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

We witness a hyper-masculine environment in which Maya’s boss George (Mark Strong) slams his fist on the desk screaming at CIA analysts, “I want targets. Do your fucking jobs. Bring me people to kill.” After years in the field, after her friends have died, after relentlessly pursuing bin Laden, Maya swears, screams at a superior and boldly tells the CIA Director (James Gandolfini) in a room full of men, “I’m the motherfucker that found this place, sir.” Inoo Kang asserts this one statement draws attention to her gender: “anyone can be a motherfucker, man or woman – just like anyone can find bin Laden.” Does she adopt stereotypical masculine behavior to adapt? Or is her aggression merely a manifestation of her frustration and obsession? Or is she merely a bundle of contradictions, like most people?

Writer Katey Rich said she was fascinated how Maya’s “femininity is never talked about out loud, but influences everything she does and the way her colleagues react to her.” All of the male colleagues and superiors refer to her as the infantilizing term “girl” rather than “woman.” Yet Maya engenders enormous respect from her colleagues and superiors. Two times in the film, a superior asks one of Maya’s colleagues if she’s up for the job. In each instance, she’s described as “a killer” and “intelligent,” although James Gandolfini as the CIA Director dismisses that assertion by saying, “We’re all intelligent.” A Navy SEAL trusts Maya’s judgment on bin Laden’s location because of her unwavering confidence.

One of the best things about having a female director? Not only do we see an intelligent and complex female protagonist. We also see female friendship. Passing the Bechdel Test, we see Maya and her colleague and friend Jessica (Jennifer Ehle) debate, strategize, unwind and challenge each other. Reinforcing their friendship with a visual cue, Maya’s screensaver on her computer is a picture of her and Jessica.

Jennifer Ehle as Jessica in Zero Dark Thirty

After Maya becomes convinced that a vital lead is dead, it’s young analyst Debbie (Jessica Collins) who makes a crucial discovery through researching old files. She tells Maya that she’s been her inspiration. It was nice to see female admiration and camaraderie, even if Maya is too busy, too focused on work to acknowledge her compliment.

When Jessica asks Maya if she has a boyfriend or is sleeping with a co-worker, Maya firmly tells her no. Jessica encourages her to get a little somethin’ somethin’ to take the edge off. She says, “I’m not that girl that fucks – it’s unbecoming.” Now I’m not exactly thrilled with that statement. But I’m delighted Maya isn’t defined by her relationship to a man. She defines herself.

Some have called Zero Dark Thirty “a feminist epic” based on “the real women of the CIA.” But it’s also been criticized for its perpetuation of the Lone Wolf Heroine trope. When asked about the role of Maya’s gender, Bigelow – who was pleasantly surprised to discover how many women were involved in the CIA’s search for bin Laden – said “the beauty of the narrative” is that Maya is “defined by her dedication, her courage, her fearlessness.”

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

I’m honestly not entirely sure if Zero Dark Thirty is a feminist film. But with its subtle gender commentary, female friendship, and female protagonist who’s defined by her actions rather than her appearance or her relationships, it’s hard for me to say it’s not.

Bigelow is a talented filmmaker who made an exceptional film. Which is why it’s shocking she didn’t receive an Oscar nomination. Kathryn Bigelow has continually faced sexism, whether it’s with asshat writer Bret Easton Ellis calling her overrated because she’s “hot,” or by not being awarded an Oscar nomination, despite winning numerous film awards. It’s also unfortunate because the Academy so rarely nominates directors of women-centric films.

Only 4 women have ever been nominated for a Best Director Oscar: Lina Wertmüller (Seven Beauties), Jane Campion (The Piano), Sofia Coppola (Lost in Translation) and Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker). Out of these 4, only the Piano was female-centric. Bigelow is the only woman to ever win. Ever.

Did the Academy ignore Kathryn Bigelow because of sexism? Did they not want to honor a female director twice? Or was it because of the raging shitstorm of controversy regarding the film’s depiction of torture? Or was it because of the pending Senate investigation? And would the Senate have even investigated Zero Dark Thirty had it been directed by a man? I have a sneaking suspicion that sexism resides at the root of each of these questions.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

Many have raised the question whether Zero Dark Thirty excusesor glorifiesor endorses torture while others have refuted these claims, arguing it depicts but doesn’t defend torture or is ambiguous in its stance. Some of the same people who didn’t give two shits about torture and halting human rights atrocities in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo – including Senator John McCain, himself a torture survivor with a “spotty record on torture” as he speaks out against torture yet votes in favor of it  — are the same vocalizing outrage over Zero Dark Thirty. Both Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal have vehemently denied the film being an endorsement of torture. Yet Bigelow has been called a Nazi making propaganda, “torture’s handmaiden” as well as having “zero conscience.” Wow. That’s ridiculously harsh, don’t you think? While I’m all for critiquing art, as Stephen Colbert (of all people!) pointed out, why are we railing against a filmmaker rather than the government who still hasn’t fully investigated the use of torture in the War on Terror?

Now does depicting horrific atrocities equate approval? Absolutely not. Films like The Accused and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo portray rape graphically yet exist to combat victim-blaming rape culture. What matters is in the film’s portrayal.

Zero Dark Thirtydoes not shy away from graphic depictions of torture. Bigelow said that while she wished torture “was not part of that history,” it was. Within the first 20 minutes, we witness detainee Ammar (Reda Kateb) waterboarded, beaten, humiliated, starved, sleep deprived, stress positions by being forced into a tiny box, disoriented with lights and heavy metal music, and walked around with a collar and a chain like a dog. Later, we see other detainees in jumpsuits with wounds and scars. The abuse is horrifying and disturbing to watch. It’s repulsive to see the culmination of the racist, xenophobic colonialism that spurred the use of torture against Muslim Arabs.

Torture does not yield accurate information. Yet Dan repeatedly says to Ammar, “You lie, I hurt you.” When Ammar begs Maya for help, she tells him, “You can help yourself by telling the truth.” Not only does it subvert our gendered assumptions that she would be sympathetic to him. It puts the onus on the tortured detainees, not on the racist atrocities committed by government officials.

Admiral Bill McCraven (Christopher Stanley) and Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty

But Zero Dark Thirtyalso shows the inefficacy of torture. When Ammar is put into the box, he lies that he doesn’t know if there will be another attack. And yet we quickly see an attack in Saudi Arabia. We see CIA analysts uncovering intelligence without torture. After Ammar has been abused, demoralized and dehumanized repeatedly for months (years?), Maya and Dan eventually treat him with a modicum of decency and respect. Only then does he finally provide accurate and vital information.

Most tellingly, Dan says he’s leaving as he no longer can torture people. He says he wants to go to DC and do something “normal.” He warns Maya not to be “the last one holding a dog collar when the oversight committee comes.” This sense of awareness doesn’t acquit Dan’s or Maya’s actions. But it does convey that Dan knows that torture is fundamentally wrong.

But Zero Dark Thirtyalso portrays characters who repeatedly say that they can’t do their job without torture — or as they put it “enhanced interrogation techniques” — even after finding leads without torture and even after torture fails to stop terrorist attacks, which undercuts the message that torture is ineffective and reprehensible. It frames torture more as a Machiavellian means to an end: it’s not pleasant but still kinda necessary. But maybe that’s the point — to showcase the traditional thinking of the CIA in how to obtain intelligence, even when everything points in the opposite direction. While it certainly doesn’t condone torture, sadly Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t outright condemn human rights atrocities either.

It is this back and forth, this ambiguous juxtaposition of narratives and views that makes it difficult to analyze and open to interpretation. Zero Dark Thirty has been called a “reverse Rohrsach test” where everyone will see in it “something they would rather not see, but no one can agree on what’s wrong.” Take the opening: some will see replaying voices calling 911 on 9/11 as inciting fear and terror, while others (aka me) will see it as transporting us back to that time, reminding us why we as a nation reacted – right or wrong – the way we did. Bigelow herself said “there’s certainly a moral complexity to that 10-year hunt” for bin Laden. Bigelow and Boal didn’t spell everything out for us and “didn’t spoon-feed their opinions to the audience in a way that made for easy digestion.”  They expect us to complete the puzzle for ourselves.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) in Zero Dark Thirty
However, the biggest clue as to the film’s overall stance appears in its finale. Zero Dark Thirtymay not criticize torture as much as it could or should. But that doesn’t mean it panders to politics. Rather it questions the course the U.S. has taken. It makes a bold and damning statement critiquing post-9/11 failures and the emptiness of the War on Terror. When bin Laden’s compound is invaded and he’s killed, it’s a taut and suspenseful albeit disturbing sequence. In the end, there’s no rejoicing, no celebration.

The last image we see is Maya, alone shedding silent tears. She allows herself a much-needed emotional release. While she should be satisfied at the culmination of her life’s work, pain tinges this moment. Lost and forlorn, she doesn’t know where to go next.

Zero Dark Thirtydoesn’t provide any easy answers. Rather it asks complex questions. Like any masterful work of art, it challenges us and pushes us, at times in uncomfortable ways. It forces us to look at ourselves as a nation, to our collective pain and to our response to tragedy. Zero Dark Thirty essentially asks us if it was all worth it. It asks how we can move forward. Just like Maya, where do we go from here?

2013 Golden Globes Week: ‘The Newsroom’: Misogyny 2.0

I am a great man.

Written by Leigh Kolb

During the first episode of HBO’s The Newsroom, news anchor Will McAvoy (Jeff Daniels) delivers a rousing monologue about why America is not the “greatest country in the world.” He renders the crowd of college students speechless as he lashes out at the “sorority girl” who asked the question, bashing America’s current “WORST-period-GENERATION-period-EVER-period.” Soft piano music plays in the background as he laments America’s past greatness:
“…We reached for the stars, and we acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn’t belittle it; it didn’t make us feel inferior. We didn’t identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn’t scare so easy. And we were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered.” (emphasis added)

Most of the speech is eloquent, and will have audiences of all political persuasions nodding in agreement (as they should–American exceptionalism is misguided). 
What the audience of college students can’t see, and what no one seems to focus on, is the fact that Will, in all of his “great men” bravado, got this idea from a woman.
I’m not sure if Aaron Sorkin, The Newsroom‘s creator and writer, got the memo either. In  “How to Write an Aaron Sorkin Script, by Aaron Sorkin,” by Aaron Sorkin in GQ, AARON SORKIN (in case you missed it) writes:
“A student asks what makes America the world’s greatest country, and Will dodges the question with glib answers. But the moderator keeps needling him until…snap.”

In reality, Will sees what he thinks is an hallucination of MacKenzie McHale (Emily Mortimer) in the audience. As he struggles to answer the question, she writes him a prompt and holds it up: 

“IT’S NOT. BUT IT CAN BE.”

Then he launches into his “great men” manifesto, and the story begins.
IT WAS HER IDEA!
Much has been written about the “hostile” misogyny of The Newsroom (see here, here, here and here), and rightfully so. 
While all of the characters are flawed, Will is a hero, but the female characters are incompetent, clumsy and hysterical. Will goes on the air stoned, is condescending toward dates, tricks MacKenzie into thinking he was going to propose to her years ago, changes MacKenzie’s contract to allow him to be able to fire her every week, but he is our good guy, our hero.
The women? Again, critics have been deconstructing the show’s misogyny from its inception, but the women are unbelievable. Will’s ex-girlfriend and new executive producer MacKenzie is especially baffling. She has returned to America after reporting in Afghanistan and Iraq for two years to serve as the executive producer of News Night. She’s a well-respected reporter and producer, but throughout the first season she consistently unravels into a heap of one-dimensional stereotypes. Is it believable that an esteemed journalist doesn’t understand how to work email? That she doesn’t know anything about economics? 
MacKenzie frequently has emotional breakdowns in front of her staff.
It doesn’t make sense. Unless you’re Aaron Sorkin–then this is who women are. They are the flighty associate producer who mixes up the state Georgia and country Georgia and writes “LOL” on a funeral card. They are the gorgeous woman with a PhD in economics who is only convinced to anchor after being seduced by the Gucci wardrobe. They are the women who think an important news tip is a pick-up line, don’t understand the acronym or are too preoccupied with being jealous to get the news (thank goodness there were men to decode the message). They are the women who love Sex and the City and blow up if Valentine’s Day doesn’t go their way. They are purveyors of gossip, and love reality TV.
Maggie earned her position at News Night by being promoted accidentally before McHale promotes her for being “loyal.”
Will has flaws, of course. However, he is consistently portrayed as competent and heroic.
After Maggie’s (Alison Pill) roommate is a guest on News Night and goes on a tangent about abortion rights (which would have been a welcome conversation had it made any sense), her boutique is emblazoned with “Baby Killer” graffiti. Will literally walks out of the steam of the streets to go comfort her. It was was an overly dramatic visual reminder that he is a hero–in fact, he is a “great man.” 
“Don’t worry. I got this.”
If Sorkin’s sexism isn’t clear enough in his writing, an interview with The Globe and Mail serves as a persuasive character study. He refers to his interviewer as “Internet girl,” and tells her:
“I think I would have done very well, as a writer, in the forties. I think the last time America was a great country was then, or not long after. It was before Vietnam, before Watergate.”

There it is. Greatness was a time before women’s liberation and before the civil rights movement. And while I’m sure he wouldn’t admit to meaning that, there is clear white male American privilege and hubris that allows someone to truly believe that America was greatest in the 1940s. 
In the final episode of the season, Will ends up hiring the “sorority girl” from the beginning (after accusing her of ruining his life) and telling her she is what makes America the greatest country. He learns that seeing MacKenzie in the audience wasn’t his imagination–she was there with the prompts. She shows him the signs, and he says, “It was you?” She says,

“No, it was you, Billy. I was just producing.”

How unfortunate. His defining moment was prompted by women, yet he finishes with all of the power, even claiming or being given the power from their own contributions. Of course an audience of a news program only sees the glory of the anchor, not the leg work of the producers. But when a show revolves around the behind-the-scenes work of a news program, it’s disheartening and infuriating that MacKenzie–who prompts Will’s monologue and remakes News Night–is the fool, and Will gets all the glory for “civilizing” America.

It’s easy to laud the accomplishments of “great men” if you’re so sure that you are one yourself (Will McAvoy and Aaron Sorkin certainly do). And while the show features good acting and interesting critiques of media and almost-current events, it’s hard to fully appreciate all of that through the cloud of self-importance.

Is The Newsroom the best dramatic television series?
It’s not. And unless Sorkin quickly figures out his issues with women, it can’t be.

—–


Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri. 

2013 Golden Globes Week: The Evolution of ‘The Big Bang Theory’

Kunal Nayyar, Johnny Galecki, Jim Parsons, Simon Helberg, Kaley Cuoco

Written by Rachel Redfern.

The Big Bang Theory, the show that legitimizes the nerd in all of us and tickles that small (or large) part of us that gets the Star Trek jokes. The writers of the show are like geeky unicorns who can finally tell that nerdy joke you’ve been trying for years and who make you smile with superiority when you manage to understand one of the many scientific concepts thrown around.

For the second time, The Big Bang Theory has been nominated for a Golden Globe award in Best Television Comedy Series. This is also the second Best Actor in a Television Series-Comedy or Musical nomination for Jim Parsons, the hilarious actor who plays Dr. Sheldon Cooper, an award that he won back in 2011. Similarly, Johnny Galecki was nominated for the same award in 2012.

Instead of just being another rendition of ‘Friends’ and ‘How I Met Your Mother,’ The Big Bang Theory has a unique foundation in its scientist main characters. The main characters Leonard Hofstadter (Johnny Galecki) and Sheldon Cooper (Jim Parsons) are brilliant, but struggle socially, embodying the traditional nerd stereotype in their love of science fiction shows, fantasy card games, comic book mania, and gamer lifestyle. In the typical sitcom, these kinds of characters are usually background extras that provide the comedic situation for a bad date; while definitely quirky, each of The Big Bang Theory characters’ intelligence and desperate need for affection provide the necessary comedic relief.

The show’s contrasting use of pop culture and advanced scientific concepts is engaging and is augmented by guest appearances from Star Trek alums LeVar Burton, Will Wheaton, and a voice-over by the unparalleled Leonard Nimoy, as well as scientific celebrities Stephen Hawking and Neil DeGrasse Tyson, to name a few.

However, despite the unique nature of the show and it’s legitimately hilarious dialogue there are problematic elements to The Big Bang Theory and it’s a problem I’ve mentioned before: the use of stereotypes. Stereotypes are obviously an important part of comedy; the stereotype is a relatable way to demonstrate a familiar funny situation (or an unfamiliar one since I know few people as smart and neurotic as Sheldon Cooper). However, the stereotypes used in The Big Bang Theory often pigeon-hole women who aren’t physically appealing into socially awkward nerds with latent lesbian tendencies and traditionally beautiful women into uneducated sluts with bad taste in men.

Kaley Cuoco plays Penny, the third main character on The Big Bang Theory, who is a beautiful, young waitress and a bit of an airhead. There are a few disturbing moments on the show when Penny is condescended to by the male characters and is given lines to reflect an “I’m hot but stupid” mentality. Now, this isn’t to say that there aren’t some people in the world who are probably like this, but perhaps it wouldn’t be so noticeable on The Big Bang Theory if it wasn’t used so often with it’s female characters.

Kunal Nayyar, Melissa Rauch, Simon Helberg, Jim Parsons, Mayim Bialik, Johnny Galecki, Kaley Cuoco

In the first three seasons it’s especially noticeable as all of Penny’s beautiful friends are given similar characteristics, as are the beautiful women that the boys date. Even Bernadette (Melissa Rauch), Howard Wolowitz’s fiancé, who has a Ph.D in microbiology, is often typecast as an airhead who doesn’t understand a common sense principle as well as the boys.

Perhaps this is a good transition into the sexist mess that was the early Howard Wolowitz character. One of Sheldon and Leonard’s close friends, for the first four seasons Howard played the role of a disgusting, probably should be on a sex offender list somewhere, horny aerospace engineer. His goal was to get laid and so he lied to women, hired prostitutes, chased them down in a park, and was in general, completely repugnant for laughs. While the character has improved since the introduction of the Bernadette character and their marriage, for the first four seasons, Howard’s character ran rampant through the show, completely unchecked and without any repercussions for his behavior. If anything, there was a congratulatory sense to his actions, as if him hiring a prostitute and going back to his old ways of disrespecting women after a small breakup was something the audience should be sympathetic toward.

Howard’s character displays what I like to call the ‘Mad Men Principle:’ is a show sexist because it portrays sexist situations, or is it instead brilliantly self-aware and exposing sexism? In the case of Mad Men I would argue that yes, it is self-aware and exposing the massive amounts of sexism that was commonplace in the 1960’s. Does the same hold true for The Big Bang Theory?

I would say that in the early years of the show, no, it was sexist. For instance, take the episode “The Killer Robot Instability,” during this episode the sexually rapacious and unethical Howard Wolowitz says something incredibly inappropriate, wildly sexual and completely disrespectful to Penny for about the millionth time, yet when she tells him off, she’s the one who has to apologize for being rude. Despite the fact that Penny has now put up with Howard’s constant pick-up lines and overt sexual come-ons, when she finally stands up for herself and informs him that his behavior is inappropriate, she is the one in the wrong; this action validates Wolowitz’s inappropriate behavior and paves the way for him to continue being disgusting without consequences.

Or again, how Wolowitz treats his mother badly and demands that his girlfriend and wife cook and clean and care for him: the lovely Bernadette looks confused by his constant insistence that she do so, but continues to participate in his illusions about how she’s going to behave.

However, the show has gotten better the past few seasons; the characters feel more well-rounded, there are fewer jokes at Penny’s expense, and the “quick, try to bone every woman in sight” attitude from Wolowitz has subsided since his involvement with the Bernadette character. In fact, there was a moment of acknowledgment and apology for his past behavior in season five, an act of redemption that has put the show on the good side of the ‘Mad Men Principle’ for me.

Simon Helberg, Jim Parsons, Johnny Galecki, Kunal Nayyar

 In fact, the season four episode, “The Roommate Transmogrification,” started a clever role reversal featuring Wolowitz and Bernadette as she is offered a high-paying job at a pharmaceutical company. This job will make Bernadette the main ‘breadwinner’ in their relationship and spawns a situation where Bernadette treats him like a trophy wife. Similarly, in season five’s “The Shiny Trinket Maneuver,” Bernadette tells Wolowitz that she’s not sure she wants children, a problem that’s resolved by her compromise to have children if Wolowitz will stay home with them so she can continue her career. It’s obvious that this compromise is unacceptable to him, a fact that I appreciated since it was automatically assumed in the episode (as it so often is in life) that it’s the wife’s duty to give up her career and stay home with her children.

It seems glaringly obvious to make this point about a show who’s title references evolution, but the great evolution and development of The Big Bang Theory makes it, in my opinion, a well-thought out and intelligent sitcom. I’m hopeful that this deserving show will win a golden globe this year and that I’ll continue to laugh like the giant geek I am at every brilliant Star Trek joke that Sheldon Cooper makes. 

—

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

2013 Golden Globes Week: Does ‘Argo’ Suffer from a Woman Problem and Iranian Stereotypes?


Written by Megan Kearns.

When I saw Argo in the theatre, I wasn’t really expecting to have a whole lot to say regarding gender in the film. In the majority of the trailer, all you see is men, men, brief glimpse of the women, and more men. Did Argo reaffirm my fears of making women silent and invisible?
Based on the 1979 Tehran hostage crisis, Argo depicts the true story of CIA operative Tony Mendez rescuing 6 American diplomats out of Iran. 
Argo is an incredibly well-crafted film. It’s taut, suspenseful and at times buoyantly humorous.  But style over substance weakens the film. Character development suffers. We never discover the hostages as people. Their lives, their views don’t ever really unfold.
Surprisingly, the hostages aren’t really the focus of the film. It’s Ben Affleck. Oh yeah and Alan Arkin and John Goodman, as a film director and make-up artist respectively. But we see Ben Affleck talk on the phone with his son. Ben Affleck agonize over decisions. Ben Affleck looking pensive.
While I liked the movie, I felt unease throughout. Argo depicts a white, male Eurocentric perspective. There’s no place for a complex depiction of women in this paradigm.
We’re never allowed into the lives or hear the perspectives or opinions of women. None of the women in Argo are given their own identity aside from how they relate to men. The 2 female hostages’ roles as diplomats were connected to their husbands. Because their husbands worked for the government, the women signed up for foreign service too. But that’s not why I have a problem with gender depictions in the film.
We never see hostages Cora Dijek (Clea Duvall) and Kathy Stafford (Kerry Bishe) talk to each other, aside from a group discussion with all 6 of the hostages. The women never reminisce together, never laugh, never express worry, never talk together – unless it’s with the men. Seriously, what is it with films NOT showing women talking to each other?! I’m gonna let you in a little secret, Hollywood. We women? We talk. To each other. Shocking, I know.

Nico Lang asks “where are the women in Argo” and asserts:
“I’m not saying they should create a new role for a woman or magically create a female spy (it’s not Alias, after all), but the women here deserve more than virtual silence. The film doesn’t take place at an all-boys’ school or a magical world in which all of the women have gone mute. It was the 1970’s, not Spike TV. There were women who had relationships to the story, and the film’s desire to marginalize them or cut them out completely shows how little modern Hollywood thinks of female narratives. Movies actually made in the 70’s had better roles for women than this, and the idea that Affleck gets let off the hook for sexism because he made a period piece is insulting…As a movie about movies, Argo wants to hold up a mirror to Hollywood and reflect the craziness of the industry, but in doing so, also perpetuates that industry’s rampant and systemic sexism.”
But what’s interesting is that when Affleck arrives to have the hostages take on fake identities in the film industry, as a Canadian production crew scouting for a film location in Iran, a stereotypical gender reversal occurs.
Typically in a crisis situation, it’s the woman or women who express hesitations or reservations or worries. Not here. No here it’s a dude who does. While Kathy looks (understandably) nervous and tense, the two female hostages remain calm and collected. I initially found it refreshing to see a non-stereotypical gender portrayal in such a mainstream, critically-acclaimed blockbuster. But do they remain calm because they barely have any dialogue? Hmmm, maybe this is a gender fail after all.
Beyond sexism, Eurocentrism permeates the film. At almost every turn, the Americans are placed at the forefront. That might not be such a huge problem if the hostages were actually the focus of the film.While so much was glossed over and inaccurate, I liked that Affleck at least attempted to provide a brief history of Iran. But why did every Iranian have to appear unhinged, brutal and savage breaking down the walls of the embassy? “Argo presents a country of more than 35 million in 1979 exclusively through the lens of terrorism and hostage-taking…” Argo “perpetuates the unfortunate contemporary stereotype that Iranians somehow “hate” Americans. When the hostages are driving through Tehran, surrounded by Iranians, you can feel the palpable tension, thick and constricting. Again they are seen as the frightening enemy. Iranians are lumped together as scary and barbaric.

Argo wants to show the merits of peaceful negotiations, that violent actions don’t need to be taken to resolve conflicts. So why not depict both sides – both American and Iranian – with nuance and complexity? I expected more from a supposedly progressive director and a producer (George Clooney) passionate about social justice.
“But throughout the film, the Iran we see in the news clips and the Iran we see dramatized are all on the same superficial level: incomprehensible, out-of-control hordes with nary an individual or rational thought expressed…Argo glosses over the diversity of opinion in Iran and the intellectual ferment before the theocratic lockdown, making the culture look exactly the way an insular American public has come to believe all Islamic countries look.”

Argo is a white film, directed by a white dude (albeit an awesome white dude), with mostly white actors, told from a white perspective. And I don’t necessarily have a problem with that. Except for the fact that Persians and Arabs face so much discrimination in this country. Yes, I love Homelandtoo. And I can’t wait to see Zero Dark Thirty. But do we really need yet anotherfilm or TV show perpetuating Arab and Persian stereotypes?
We know how American women are depicted. So how are Iranian women depicted in Argo?
A woman narrates the opening of the film, providing context of Iranian history. This same woman also speaks for the Iranians holding the American embassy hostages to transmit to news agencies.
The only other Iranian woman we see is Sahar (Sheila Vand), the housekeeper to Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber – aka my boyfriend Jack Bristow, yes I’m obsessed with Alias) and his wife Pat Taylor (Page Jeong). Sahar eventually helps the hostages, lying to Iranian troops to protect their cover.

Interestingly, Ben Affleck told The Huffington Post’s Michael Hogan that the filmmakers changed the gender and nationality of the Taylor’s housekeeper:

“I changed it because I wanted to represent a Persian character that wasn’t a fanatic, that wasn’t railing against the United States, but that’s just somebody like all of us who’s trying to go to work and feed their family and do all the things they need to do, and who’s kind of buffeted by the political winds that are kicked up by others, particularly by others that are higher up than them.”
In his article I quoted earlier, Nico Lang doesn’t expect Affleck to create another role for women. Yet that’s precisely what he did. While I always love more female roles, sadly Affleck’s gender reversal doesn’t fix Argo’s gender (or Eurocentric) problem.
Jennifer Epps calls Sahar “the most important Iranian character in the film.” But she warns:
“But calling her the most important Iranian character is not saying much — and neither is Sahar. Over a handful of scenes she may have a grand total of 3 lines. In this case they are translated, because they are relevant to the plot. Her character, however, is defined by her attitude toward the Americans. She also may be the only kind of Iranian the movie is interested in individuating because she is separated from her society, ensconced in a Western household.”

Yes, Sahar – an Iranian woman – ultimately helps save the Americans. But her employers are suspicious and distrustful of her motives once they think Sahar has discovered their secret of harboring the American hostages. Again Iranians come off as the ominous “other,” to be feared or not trusted.

Just like the other women in Argo, Sahar’s opinions and views are erased. Her importance truly lies in how she relates to men.

Unsurprisingly, parts of Argo are fabricated and not historically accurate. After all, this is a fictionalized movie, not a documentary. But then why not make the hostages more interesting? Why not develop the female characters – show their perspectives and feelings – as people, not just mere props or sidekicks to men? Why not give women a voice?

Argo shows how far we still have to go in gender equity in film. Sure, it’s a well-made movie. But that doesn’t inoculate it from sexism or racism. Awards indicate the art, culture and opinions we value. Just like somany Golden Globes and Oscar-nominated films, Argo revolves around men. Women deserve better. We’re not just satellites orbiting dudes.

Like many Hollywood films, Argo reifies who truly matters in our society. White men.

‘The Hobbit’: A Totally Expected Bro-Fest

Written by Erin Fenner
Is there enough dude on this poster for you?
Bad Taste, 1987, was Peter Jackson’s first dip into epic nerd movies and his first film. While he may be best known for his specially affected J.R.R. Tolkien interpretations, I personally will always love Jackson for his exploding sheep and (literally) brain-snatchy/gory aliens in Bad Taste.  The film is about a group of investigators who discover that a town is being overrun by aliens who are harvesting humans for their fast food franchise. It was extremely low budget – less than $30,000 – and Jackson recruited his friends to play starring roles. Jackson, himself, actually plays two lead characters in the movie. The aesthetic is that of a film school project – rough and cleverly stupid. It’s gruesome; on of the heroes repeatedly squishes his brain back into his skull and keeps it in with a hat and belt.
Its cheeky absurdity fits snugly into a cult/b-movie-lover’s tastes.
But.
But, it has no female characters. The only women in the film are extras – two extras in huge alien suits.
So, in 2012, one quarter-life-crisis after Jackson’s first feature-length film, we saw a pretty similar problem.
The Hobbit is well acted with predictably great special effects, humorous dialogue and a compelling arc.
But.
But, there is only one female character with a speaking part and maybe a couple female hobbit extras who you see behind a frolicking Frodo (Elijah Wood) or Bilbo (Martin Freeman/Ian Holm).
Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) is the only woman with a speaking part in The Hobbit. And really, her role is little more than a cameo. While men are talking, Galadriel elegantly paces around the room – her gauzy dress seemingly slowing her down by the unnecessarily long train. Gandalf (Ian McKellen) steals a word with her to talk about his plan with Bilbo and the dwarves. She supports him and smiles slowly. While I like the unexpected sexual tension between Galadriel and Gandalf – it’s less than gratifying to see a woman plugged into a movie with no purpose other than to be a magical validator.
This lack of lady in the film has not gone unnoticedor uncontested. But, Alyssa Rosenburg with the XX Factorsaid in her piece, “We Don’t Need Women in the Hobbit” that women shouldn’t be included for the sake of equity. Rosenberg writes: 

“All-male spaces and social circles existed in the kind of medieval settings Tolkien was commenting on, they exist today, and stories that are set in those environments aren’t uninteresting to me because I’m a woman — in fact, just the reverse. My hope isn’t that they go away, but that intellectually curious men should be able to find stories about femininity, and female spaces, whether they’re fantastical or not, just as fascinating, even if there aren’t male characters in the mix.”

Unfortunately Rosenburg’s argument is just as indolent as Jackson’s move to include only one woman for less than a ten minute scene to balance the dudeness of The Hobbit, an almost three-hour-long movie.
If Jackson was really sticking to the details of Tolkien’s novel for accuracy’s sake then Bilbo would have been fatter and the dwarves all hairy and large-nosed. While Fili (Dean O’Gorman) and Kili (Aidan Turner) were adorable; their delicate five-o-clock shadows did not resemble anything dwarf-like. So, since Jackson Hollywooded this story up anyway, you think he could have included some women’s voices and stories instead of lazily inserting a suspiciously always-glowing Galadriel.
All male spaces exist, but that doesn’t mean that the surrounding non-male space shouldn’t be included – or that the story shouldn’t be updated to stay relevant. And the idea that women ought to expose themselves to more male-only spaces is giggleable. Since infancy girls are exposed to story books, movies and television shows that have few if any female characters. And hey, what about action movies, Westerns, superhero flicks and on and on. While women sneak a peek into these films here and there; they are usually a romantic interest or the object that can sexily swagger.
Women are a small percentage of the roles in Hollywood movies. In 2011 women made up only 33% of all movie characters of the top 100 domestic grossing films, and only 11% of protagonists were women. In the same year women only made up 18%of writers, directors, producers, executive producers, editors and cinematographers of the 250 domestic top grossing films.
We do need to include more women in stories that originally didn’t include women because if we’re not proactive about representing women it won’t happen.
So – even though Jackson’s tantalizing nerdy films are pleasing – more needs to be demanded from them. More women.

 

Gender and Food Week: Scarlett Johansson Tired of Sexist Diet Questions

Robert Downey, Jr. and Scarlett Johansson at The Avengers press conference in London

This post written by Megan Kearns originally appeared at Bitch Flicks on May 31, 2012. Cross-posted at Women and Hollywood.

Wow, who knew I could love Scarlett Johansson so much?? I posted this on Bitch Flicks‘ Facebook page but thought it was too great not to post here too.
At The Avengers press conference in London, a reporter proceeded to ask Robert Downey Jr. an in-depth, thought-provoking question about his character (Tony Stark/Iron Man) and then asked Johansson about her diet. I shit you not.
Reporter: “I have a question to Robert and to Scarlett. Firstly to Robert, throughout Iron Man 1 and 2, Tony Stark started off as a very egotistical character but learns how to fight as a team. And so how did you approach this role, bearing in mind that kind of maturity as a human being when it comes to the Tony Stark character, and did you learn anything throughout the three movies that you made?
“And to Scarlett, to get into shape for Black Widow did you have anything special to do in terms of the diet, like did you have to eat any specific food, or that sort of thing?”
Scarlett: “How come you get the really interesting existential question, and I get the like, “rabbit food” question?“
Amen, sister! If you watch the video, you’ll see just how perturbed Johansson is to be asked. As she should be. Why the hell did the reporter save the diet question for one of the two women on the panel??

Johansson has spoken in favor of feminism (yet doesn’t necessarily call herself a feminist) and female friendship, supports Planned Parenthood and condemns Hollywood’s ageism against women calling it “a very vain, vain industry.”  So it’s no surprise she calls out this bullshit. I only wish more actors and members of the media would follow her lead.

The reporter’s question particularly rubs me the wrong way because lots of women have such a contentious relationship with food. Eating should be a fun, sensual, pleasurable experience. But too many women fear food, afraid of what it will do to their bodies. The media monitors and polices women’s consumption. Between diet books, exercise DVDs, weight loss shakes, low-fat foods – the dieting industry is a money-making juggernaut. And it’s geared towards women.

In response to the asinine question, Sarah at Pop Cultured astutely asserts:

“The respect given to you if you’re a man in the entertainment business, and the respect given to you if you’re a woman in the entertainment business: all perfectly summed up in one idiotically thought out line of questioning.”
It’s ridiculous — not to mention offensive and sexist — Hollywood, the entertainment industry, and the media lavish praise on men for their minds and their talents while objectifying women and reducing female actors to their appearances. As we recently witnessed with Ashley Judd fighting back against toxic bodysnarking and the heinous criticism of Jennifer Lawrence’s body, the media constantly scrutinizes, visually dismembers, critiques and polices women’s bodies. The media wreaks havoc on women’s body images, telling us we’re too fat or too skinny. Never just right.

This constant bombardment of objectification of women leads to normalizing sexism and violence against women. It reinforces the notion that women are nothing more than sex objects for the male gaze.

So reporters, think twice before you ask a woman yet another stupid diet question. Ugh.

———-
Megan Kearns is a Bitch Flicks Editor and Staff Writer. She’s a feminist vegan blogger and freelance writer living in Boston. Megan blogs about gender, media, food and politics at The Opinioness of the World, a feminist vegan site she founded. She writes about gender, media and reproductive justice as a Regular Blogger at Fem2pt0. Megan’s work has also appeared at Arts & Opinion, Everyday Feminism, Feminist Magazine on KPFK radio, Feministing’s Community Blog, Italianieuropei, Open Letters Monthly, A Safe World for Women and Women and Hollywood. You can follow her on Twitter at @OpinionessWorld.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Amber‘s Picks:

Hollywood’s Year of Heroine Worship by A.O. Scott via The New York Times

Oscars and casting: Hollywood insiders discuss diversity by Solvej Schou via Entertainment Weekly

30 Lessons We Learned From Amy Poehler in 2012 by Krutika Mallikarjuna via Buzzfeed

Megan‘s Picks:

7 Ways Women and Girls are Sexualized, Stereotyped and Underrepresented On Screen by Dana Liebelson and Asawin Suebsaeng via Mother Jones

“There Is an Audience for Our Films”: Four African-American Female Filmmakers Speak Out by Lorenza Munoz via The Daily Beast

Surprise! Attempted Rape Scene in Episode of ‘The Walking Dead’  by Tizzy Giordano via Fem2pt0

TedX Women Talk about Online Harassment and Cyber Mobs by Anita Sarkeesian via Feminist Frequency

Is Historical Accuracy a Good Defense of Patriarchal Societies in Fantasy Fiction? by Dan Wohl via The Mary Sue

Google Grants $1.2M to Help Analyze Female Roles in TV, Film by Angela Watercutter via Wired 

Hollywood’s Power 100 Mingle at THR’s Women in Entertainment Breakfast by Sophie A. Schillaci via The Hollywood Reporter

The Divine, Difficult Women of ‘Treme’ and David Simon’s Female Characters by Alyssa Rosenberg via ThinkProgress

Dreamworks Animation Is Proud of Having an 85%  Female Group of Producers by Susana Polo via The Mary Sue

Sexist Quote of the Day by Bret Easton Ellis Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

What have you read (or written) this week that you’d like to share?

Guest Post: Movie Review: ‘Think Like a Man’



This guest post by Ela Eke-Egele previously appeared at Black Feminists and is cross-posted with permission.

The film is a romantic comedy based on Steve Harvey’s book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. It follows four couples and each woman is dating a different type of man as defined in the book, “The Player,” “The Non-Committer,” “The Mama’s Boy” and “The Dreamer” respectively.
The women follow relationship strategies for the given type of man they are dating and all seems to go well, until the men discover what they are up to. They get a copy of the book and attempt to counter the women’s plans but ultimately, end up alone. Following some reflection and regret, the couples make up and the movie ends with a joyful reunion and uplifting music.

Think Like a Man is unsophisticated and dated. It’s blatantly self-promoting with Steve Harvey appearing several times to talk about the ideas in his book (K-Ching!). The film’s soundtrack is a lot more entertaining than the script which in places relies more on sexism than realism. Chris Brown has a minor role in it and for me, it’s still too soon. The last person I need to see in a film dealing with relationships is Chris Brown.

L-R: Mya (Meagan Goode), Sonia (La La Anthony), Zeke (Romany Malco) in Think Like a Man

Think Like a Man operates in a heterosexual world and works on the premise that women have an innate need for commitment while men are all about sex and that men are in a position of power today because sex and women have become too available. This is made clear at the onset, with James Brown’s It’s a Man’s World opening and a voiceover by Kevin Harris.

The impression that Think Like a Man gives is that a black woman’s primary focus is on finding and keeping a man and that we’re prepared to lie, cheat and manipulate in order to get one. But, I have to say, the men in this movie aren’t very appealing. They are sexist, emotionally immature with little potential for growth. The “Happily Married Man” is portrayed by a white man who in fact does seem more enlightened when it comes to relationships and more willing to compromise. But, I wonder what is this trying to tell us, that black men are not this sophisticated by nature and we just have to work with this?

Admittedly both the men and women in Think Like a Man are overplayed stereotypes. To suggest this is the best that men, particularly black men, have to offer is very bleak and to assume that black women are so desperate is insulting.

Think Like a Man roots for a playing field that favours men while it pretends to empower women. Conforming to some basic stereotypes and predefined rules makes women easier to understand and also removes the need for men to relate to us as individuals. Steve Harvey is unapologetic when he says that “we need to talk” are the four words most dreaded by men. This is following a scene where one of the men gets a call from his girlfriend who says exactly that. The scene also makes it plain that men have no such reservations when it comes to talking about strippers and ‘titties and ass.’

L-R: Michael (Terrence Jenkins) and Candace (Regina Hall) in Think Like a Man

The movie denies that men are intimidated by a woman’s success yet we are told that the male DNA is encoded with the need to be the provider and the compulsion to be in control. A view that conveniently ignores evolution and is so worn out that it is completely threadbare. Successful and accomplished women are accused of being too independent and giving off the impression that they do not need men because they are men. The preferable strategy for these women is to downplay their achievements, lower their standards and settle for less. So, this film doesn’t seem as much about helping women get men as it is about helping men get women with minimal effort and undamaged egos.

Think Like a Man is nostalgic for a time when men were men and abundant chest hair and gold medallions were a sign of virility, and I can’t help but feel that it may be a reflection of how hard it is for black men to deal with the much-improved status of women today. Women are more successful, financially secure, sexually liberated and independent than they have ever been and, perhaps for men like Steve Harvey, it makes it seem like male privilege is slipping away, so now there’s a war on.

Harvey’s book was on the New York bestsellers list so it obviously did well, but I think that any women who finds it necessary to resort to these tactics is simply encouraging bad behaviour and buying into the idea that black men are a lost cause. Steve Harvey, instead of looking to women for a solution, should encourage men to look to themselves. Men, even black men, need and benefit from commitment and any who refuse to adapt will lose out in the long run. Women deserve better. Perhaps he hasn’t realised this yet, which might explain why he is on his third marriage. This makes it even harder to take his book and this movie seriously.

———-

Ela Eke-Egele is involved with the Black Feminists group in London. She works full time in the IT industry and enjoys writing part-time. She lives in Hertfordshire with her two children and a goldfish.

Damning ‘Ted’ with Faint Praise

Mark Wahlberg and Mila Kunis in Ted.
As I’ve written on Bitch Flicks before, I’m not a fan of Seth MacFarlane’s work. I must admit, when I selected his feature-film debut Ted for my in-flight entertainment during my long trip back to the States for Thanksgiving, I was expecting it to be a diverting “hate watch” that would give me fodder for an easy-to-write negative post for this site, something I could quickly crunch out in between turkey and pie without missing too much family time.
But, alas, I sort of enjoyed Ted. It made me laugh out loud over a dozen times, even though I was watching it through headphones surrounded by hundreds of strangers probably watching The Amazing Spider-Man, and even though every time I laugh at something Seth MacFarlane is responsible for I feel like a hypocrite at best, if not a morally reprehensible enemy of human decency and storytelling itself.
Then again, Ted proves that Seth MacFarlane is capable of presenting jokes within the confines of a meaningful narrative, and of deriving comedy from plot and character interaction instead of meaningless cutaways to pop cultural name-checks. This is a huge step forward for MacFarlane, finally putting him on par with, well, pretty much everyone who has ever told a story or a joke to any level of success, including your Uncle Morris at last night’s dinner when he regaled the family with the tale of how he almost got arrested during last year’s Black Friday.
Unfortunately, the story that Ted tells is an uninspired and sexist Apotovian tale of man-child John (Mark Wahlberg), whose failure to launch into adulthood threatens his relationship with a Good Woman (Mila Kunis). The “twist” is that John’s connections to his immature life of hedonism are represented by his relationship with his lifelong best friend and roommate, Ted (voiced by Seth MacFarlane), a plush teddy bear come to life from a childhood wish. [DO YOU GET IT? John can’t be an adult because of his relationship with a CHILDHOOD TOY.]
Perhaps I’m so enchanted by MacFarlane’s ability to stick to a narrative to begin with because I’m so tremendously BORED with the pedestrian sexism of his chosen narrative. The Man-Child’s struggle to adapt to the demands of his Mature and Responsible Woman who Improbably Tolerates Him is soooooo 2007. There is nothing more to say about the sexism of this trope. I’m falling asleep thinking about it.
Which leaves only semi-positive notes like, hey, that Mark Wahlberg sure is charming, and Mila Kunis really is doing all she can to redeem this crap role; and wow, this CGI is pretty great, at least on a 3-inch screen on an airplane seat back. It’s so astonishing to me that Ted is a competent film it becomes all too easy to dismiss its entirely expected and uninteresting sexism. So I won’t do that. Ted is sexist. But I’m still impressed and surprised that it isn’t entirely terrible.