‘Family Guy’ and Sex Positivity…or Lack Thereof

So the only difference between Meg and Lois is that while Lois is forthcoming about her sexuality, she is attractive so it’s OK to see and hear about it because the audience (and creators) can shame her for it later, whereas Meg is presented as ugly/unattractive and therefore we don’t even want to hear or see her in any sexual way unless it’s making fun of her.


This is a guest post by Belle Artiquez.


Seth MacFarlane’s Family Guy is a massive hit show that has gained popularity over the course of its ten odd seasons.  Even with this immense following, the show portrays the idea of sex positivity in a solely masculine light.  It passively portrays a kind of controversial sexism that appears as a joke, but still perpetuates existing problematic topics of concern for women and the Queer community.  A Public Display of Misogyny is one that is sometimes done in a playful manner, but with full intention of insulting women, while at the same time making it look like said women can’t handle a simple joke.  When in reality, women are quite simply fed up with the constant sexism that is rampant in today’s society but considered less than important. Other times it is done to look sexy: often seen in advertisements or music videos where women are seen in a suggestive pose surrounded by more than one half naked man.  These are the kinds of misogyny that Family Guy hurls out in nearly every episode.  The creators of the show attempt to normalize this behaviour and make it appear acceptable, because again, it is done in a comical, whimsical light, so… where’s the harm?

Quagmire, a character who’s only ever portrayed as a pervert, kidnapper, sexual abuser and quite frankly disgusting human being (to those of us sane enough not to laugh at the jokes associated with his behaviour) is presented in a humorous way, an outrageous and exaggerated way, but for comedic effect all the same.  Even this kind of repulsive sexuality is considered acceptable to MacFarlane, because it’s funny.  Female sex positivity and anything Seth MacFarlane creates do not mesh, they don’t belong, and that’s due to MacFarlane’s hyper masculine idea of sexuality being something only (straight) men can truly own and have agency in.  Any depiction of male sex, no matter how perverse, is set in a positive way; this is why Quagmire is saved from serving actual jail time for his (hundreds of) sex crimes in the episode “Quagmire’s Mom.”  The one episode where viewers thought that finally there was going to be some retribution for his despicable behaviour–but we couldn’t even have that, he gets away scot-free–and continues with his extremely violent sexual assaults even blaming his behaviour on his promiscuous mother (because its always the mother’s fault!) but it’s OK, because it’s all fun and cartoons.  So Quagmire can really do no wrong, he won’t lose his friends when they see half naked Asian women run from the boot of his car, he won’t be reported to the police when he blatantly date rapes a woman,  his sexuality is accepted in Quahog because he is a straight male.

1

We see women in Quagmire’s trunk numerous times throughout the show before they run for their lives.


With female sexuality and sex positivity though we have a total different story.  Lois Griffin is portrayed as the extremely attractive married woman, but she is completely sexualized and fetishized throughout the show.  It’s almost her only characterization, other than the nagging wife.  We see her multiple times in the role of dominatrix, a few times with Peter, and once even with her own son Stewie.  She is often very aggressively sexual, and some might argue that this is due to her owning her sexuality which is totally sex positive and body positive too, but I see it differently.  When we see her in these roles it’s played for laughs, for shock value, that a mother and wife would have such a sexual history and violent fantasies.  And this is all connected to the idea that she is presented as the Bad Mother archetype. We see her in this role quite a lot, but most often (in nearly every episode) when it comes to Meg, her daughter.  She is only ever presented in this light, and it’s not hard to see why she fits this bad Mother role; she constantly laughs at meg and belittles her, she diminishes Megs sexual experiences and laughs them off, she literally steals one of Meg’s Boyfriends, insults Meg (and her appearance) and  is constantly trying to control Meg’s love life, and those are just the examples that involve Meg. These are not the qualities of a mother who loves her children. So, I’m not saying that I disagree with Lois being so open about her previous and on-going sex life, or even that I have problem with her being into BDSM, I don’t think Lois is a “slut,” as she has affectionately been called on many Family Guy forums; however, I do have a very serious problem with the way in which her sexuality is directly presented to make her look bad, to make her look like a horrible woman/mother/wife.

This is not the only time her sexuality is presented in a negative light. “Mind Over Murder” is an episode that sees Peter opening up a bar in his basement.  After Lois ends up singing one night, she finds that she really enjoys it so decides to make a regular appearance singing and dancing giving a jazzy feel to the bar, she feels confident and sexy but more importantly she is happy.   Peter on the other hand finds the attention she gets from his male friends too much to handle and demands she stop, because it’s her fault the men don’t know how to control themselves around a woman showing a bit of skin. But also, how dare she be in control of her own sexuality.  It’s fine for her husband, Quagmire, and even her son Stewie to place her in a sexual role, but for her to put herself there is outright unacceptable. She refuses to stop, giving a middle finger to slut shaming, and continues, enjoying the spotlight and attention (since she gets neither in her marriage). Her happiness does not last long, and again her sexuality, with which she is in control of, is depicted in a negative light.  Soon the women of the town have a problem with her too, seeing her as a threat to their relationships with their husbands. This entire idea is meant to say that it’s a woman’s fault for men looking at her, Lois is put down, belittled and slut shamed, all because these women’s husbands don’t know how to respect women.  Peter doesn’t want anybody seeing her as a sexual being because once you are married you should lose all sexual appeal to other people. That’s not sex positivity, that’s female sexual oppression and it’s extremely unfair.

Screen Shot 2015-09-25 at 12.51.24 PM

Lois Griffin is extremely sexualized to the point of it being nearly her only consistent characteristic.


And that’s with a character that is considered conventionally attractive.  Poor Meg is depicted as the eternal joke purely because of her appearance.  Because she is frumpy, she should never have a boyfriend, she should never, ever marry an attractive boy (even though she had to lie about being pregnant in order to get down the aisle), and most of all she should never be in control of her sexual experiences.  We see her in one episode making out with a guy who turns out to be Chris in a closet at Halloween, and she is depicted as so desperate for any sort of sexual attention that she will even wonder if he is going to text her the following day, she also ends up making out with Brian, a dog, but even he doesn’t want her, then another extreme, becoming obsessed with a married Joe.  All these scenarios have one thing in common: they all make her out to be so starved of male attention that she will literally kiss a dog,  try to take a married man or even want a sexual relationship with her own brother, so we have bestiality, incest and delusional husband stealing.  These most certainly are not sex positive experiences.  What’s even more infuriating is MacFarlane could have actually made a positive statement with Meg’s character; there are many teenagers who feel neglected, isolated, unattractive and ignored, who wholeheartedly understand what Meg goes through, and yet the fact that her feelings and experiences are invalidated with a simple “Shut up Meg” by the very people who are supposed to want her to be happy, turns her into another punching bag for the sake of it.  It turns all of these teenagers isolation into nothing more than a joke. Meg has so much boy trouble and is even turned into a transgender man purely as a joke that she is not feminine, not attractive and not wanted. This transgender issue isn’t even explored in the show, it’s a one off joke…it the she’s not feminine, so she must want to be a man hetero-biased argument that is extremely offensive.

So the only difference between Meg and Lois is that while Lois is forthcoming about her sexuality, she is attractive so it’s OK to see and hear about it because the audience (and creators) can shame her for it later, whereas Meg is presented as ugly/unattractive and therefore we don’t even want to hear or see her in any sexual way unless it’s making fun of her.

Screen Shot 2015-09-25 at 1.52.05 PM

This basically sums up Meg’s life. Always the physical and metaphorical punching bag for her family.


This is all based on heteronormative sexuality, and as anybody who watches Family Guy knows, there are a lot of representations of the LGBT community in the show.  But does MacFarlane depict these in positive ways? Absolutely not.  The presentations of queer sexuality are deeply stereotypical: gay men are extremely feminine and lesbian women are masculine.  One episode that really stands out, but is not even nearly the only episode, concerning this issue is “Quagmire’s Dad” (I feel like Quagmire and his family are the centerpiece of sex misrepresentation in the show).  Quagmire’s father, a war hero veteran, comes to town to visit his son, and very suddenly characters are remarking on how “gay” he appears, because he drinks cosmopolitans and his voice isn’t the low masculine they expected of a war hero.  Stereotyping, it appears, is rampant when it comes to the discussion of gender identity.  As it turns out, Quagmire’s father is not gay, but transgender–he wants to transition into a woman.  He describes wanting to change his future his future not his past and how he has dealt with these feelings for a long time, this so far is not a negative portrayal of trans folk and their experiences, but the sympathetic portrayal ends there.  In the hospital for his operation, Lois refers to the entire thing as a “circus,” the conversation revolves around the chopping off of his penis and there is basically no actual support for this man who is about to go through a life changing transition.

1

Stewie showing how transphobic the characters (and show) are.


After the transition, Quagmire’s father, now known as Ida, is treated with contempt by everyone, Lois throws out a pie Ida makes and Peter asks inappropriate questions about Ida’s breasts and lack of penis.  Everyone is wholly unaccepting of Ida, until Brian meets her at a pub, and instantly falls for her.  They end up spending the night together and Brian is absolutely smitten with this wonderful woman he met the night before.  That is until he finds out who she is , then he vomits everywhere, forgets about the “wonderful” woman he met the night before and is totally focused on the fact that she was a man.  It’s important to note that Brian is used on numerous occasions to highlight the “sexually unwanted” aspect of numerous characters.  It’s the “not even a dog would have you” theme.  Unfortunately for Ida, her sexuality is thus seen as something wrong, disgusting and unpleasant. Yet again Family Guy fails to interpret very real experiences in a way that is not exploitative.  And that’s just one transphobic episode that seemed dedicated to being just that, unaccepting and a massive joke.  There are plenty of transphobic references throughout the show, one recurring joke includes Stewie, who is presented as increasingly Bisexual (since he appears to have relationships with girls, loves dressing as a woman, hits on gay men, and has sexual fantasies of his teddy bear Rupert) as the show progresses.  His sexual identity is as confusing as  a cat that barks: we know that he has to be gay, in the very least, as he enjoys seeing the male body, relaxing in gay bars etc.  However, on numerous occasions we see him either date or kiss girls (also babies just in case you were wondering) which could either be Stewie trying to fight his homosexual nature, which just doesn’t seem plausible because he appears to be quite open about it, or he is in fact bisexual.  Whichever it is, this is played for laughs, and is not in any way an accurate representation of a child growing up under the spotlight that is patriarchy’s hatred of anything but hetersexuality.  Instead we have cheap laughs at Stewie dressed as a woman, acting as a stereotypical gay or even spying on unsuspecting men in the shower (similar to Quagmire’s behaviour).

Screen Shot 2015-09-25 at 1.54.49 PM

Stewie often dresses as a woman, and enjoys the occasional relaxing night at a gay bar.


So MacFarlane’s definitely not sex positive when it comes to women or anybody of the LGBT community, but is somehow accepting of a hyper-masculine rapist/pervert’s sexuality!  Logical? No not at all.  Offensive? Absolutely.  And hey, that’s all Family Guy strives for–to be as offensive as possible regardless of how it portrays its sexual minorities.

 


Belle Artiquez graduated from film and Literature studies in Dublin and since has continued her analysis and critique of film, TV, and literature (mainly in the area of gender politics and representations) as well as cultural and societal critiques on such blog spots as Hubpages and WordPress.

 

 

‘Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries’: Killing the Stigma of Sex

Besides occasional sex jokes, ‘Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries’ features episodes about vibrators, abortion, and women’s rights. It also highlights a wealth of one-night stands, and while the men are attractive, the camera glances over the bodies of Miss Fisher’s lovers as lovingly as it does her gorgeous outfits. It is, in an odd way, the perfect combination of the male and female gaze.


This guest post by Emma Thomas appears as part of our theme week on Sex Positivity.


“My sin’s are too many and varied to repent. And frankly, I intend to continue sinning.”  – Miss Phryne Fisher

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries has been a popular show in Australia for years, and is based on a long-lasting series of books by Australian author Kerry Greenwood.

But, what did it take for American viewers to tune in? Why, slut-shaming, of course!

In a bizarre, but typically American, twist of fate, Netflix reviewers who bashed Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries by calling the lead character a “tramp,” a “tart,” and a “s!ut” (Netflix censors that one), made the show seem a hell of a lot more interesting. Jezebel writer Rebecca Rose and her readers definitely agreed.

A lady detective who loves sex? Yes, please.

From its very first episode, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries is alive with sex positivity.

Indeed, the show’s treatment of sex is both blatant and tongue-in-cheek.

One needs only look at the main character’s name – Miss Phryne Fisher.

The original Phryne was a famous hetaera of Ancient Greece. She was, in other words, a high-class prostitute. And though her birth name was Mnesarete, which means to commensurate virtue, she was nicknamed “Phryne.” Which means toad.

The original Phryne was charged with impiety, and some say that when she was taken before the court she disrobed, baring her breasts to highlight her womanhood and arouse compassion. She was acquitted.

Still, the trial made Phyrne famous, and in ancient Greece, “Phryne” quickly caught on as a nickname for prostitutes and courtesans.

Thus, Miss Fisher bears the first name Phryne, and that alone serves as a hint of what is to come.

She is certainly not one to commensurate virtue.

However, despite what those Netflix reviewers believe, her name is also ironic – Miss Fisher is not a slut, or a tramp, or a tart.

Miss Phryne Fisher (Essie Davis) is a lady detective, who also happens to be sharp as a whip, with a shiny gold gun and a magnificent wardrobe to boot.

And, though it is 1920s Australia, she drives a car, flies planes, wears trousers, and sleeps with whomever strikes her fancy.

Untitled

Her best friend, Dr. Mac, also happens to be a lesbian. Dr. Mac has plenty of (behind-the-scenes) sex of her own, and rarely has a problem finding a lover in the roaring ’20s.

It makes sense that Dr. Mac is such good friends with Phryne Fisher. As a character Phryne is many things, and one of those things is a woman who happens to love good sex–a woman who does not seek to hide her true self.

In a refreshing turn, the show doesn’t seek to hide this either, nor does it give excuses for it.

Take, for example, this exchange with Dr. Mac:

Dr. Mac: Looks like a nerve powder. Usually prescribed for women, of course, the hysterical sex, for nervous exhaustion, emotional collapse, wandering wombs…that sort of thing.

Miss Fisher: Why on earth would a womb wander?

Dr. Mac: Unnatural behavior will do it, according to Hypocrites. Like celibacy.

Miss Fisher: Oh good. Mine’s not going anywhere.

It’s a joke about sex but, television writers of America, it’s not in poor taste! And, once it’s said, the show simply moves on.

Besides occasional sex jokes, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries features episodes about vibrators, abortion, and women’s rights. It also highlights a wealth of one-night stands, and while the men are attractive, the camera glances over the bodies of Miss Fisher’s lovers as lovingly as it does her gorgeous outfits. It is, in an odd way, the perfect combination of the male and female gaze.

While the show does feature Miss Fisher having a great deal of sex that, alone, does not make it sex positive. Sex positivity is not about having a lot of sex but instead focuses on removing the stigma and shame from sexual choices.

Miss Fisher just happens to want to have sex: that is her sexual choice.

In the very first episode, Phyrne has a sexual relationship with a dancer, Sasha de Lisse, and she later jokes that it was helpful for the investigation:

Miss Fisher: She pointed the finger at Sasha de Lisse, and I was forced to discount him with my own thorough investigation.

However, it’s clear to the viewer that is not the reality of the situation – Phryne had sex with Sasha because she wanted to.

Untitled

You may wonder…if Miss Fisher has casual sexual relationships, how do the writers show the depth of her character? So often in American television, we rely on our lead actress’ relationship with a man, or potential relationship with a man, as a central plot device. This is particularly common in crime procedurals. Case in point: Castle, Bones, and Scandal.

In an interesting twist, there is a leading man in Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries: Detective Inspector Jack Robinson (Nathan Page). Yet, unlike Castle and Bones and a plethora of other shows, this time the male lead, Jack, is the emotionally reserved one. And, in many ways, Miss Fisher is key to his character’s development.

Without giving too much away, as the series progresses Miss Fisher’s love of life and, dare I say it, sex, leads Jack to ponder new possibilities.

In one instance Phryne, like her namesake, bares her breasts (season 2, episode 1) while performing an undercover fan dance (of course).

Yet, even in this instance her behavior is not frowned upon. Maybe her Catholic maid should be scandalized, but instead she simply sighs, while Jack – now accustomed to Phryne’s personality – smirks. Perhaps the closest one gets in 1920s Australia to rolling one’s eyes.

Untitled

There is a will-they-won’t-they in Phryne and Jack’s friendship that is evident from the very beginning of the series.

But Miss Fisher never pines. It is clear that she loves sex for sex, and while a relationship with Jack may be somewhere on the horizon, well, she’s not going to be celibate in the meantime.

Some viewers cannot believe that Phryne could flirt with Jack, and truly be interested in him, yet continue to sleep with other men. Certainly, this is not an idea that is commonly shown on television.

Untitled

But if sex positivity is the idea of informed consent and agency within one’s own sexuality, Phyrne’s relationship with Jack is a prime example of it.

Phyrne is making her own decisions about her own body, and only she can judge what is right for her.

In fact, there is one particular scene from the second season that proves a perfect thesis. Jack and Phryne sit down at a piano, and sing the classic Cole Porter song, “Let’s Misbehave.”

Untitled

They both know they’re going against societal norms, but neither seems terribly concerned about it.

Jack knows that Phryne sleeps with other men, and she never tries to hide that from him. And while he may not be thrilled, he doesn’t try to stop her. He’s not ready for a relationship with her, so what right does he have to stop her from doing what she pleases?

Through the first three seasons, Phryne sleeps with numerous men. Her sexual conquests, and I’m using that term because I am quite sure that’s how Miss Fisher herself would see them, circumvent race and age.

In Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries sex can be serious, and have consequences (and sometimes lead to murder), but it is also often humorous. In one such scene, Phryne attempts to have sex with a boxer – who’s overly focused on proving how strong he is via push-ups (season 2, episode 4). Miss Fisher’s quite disappointed he won’t just come to bed already.

Miss Fisher: Why don’t you show me here? On the bed?

Untitled

One of Miss Fisher’s most fleshed out sexual relationships occurs with a Chinese-Australian man, Lin Chung.

While they also socialize, eating meals together and walking through the streets of Melbourne, the purpose of their meetings is clearly sexual in nature.

Untitled

When Phryne learns that Chung will be entering into an arranged marriage, she continues to sleep with him, but she also stresses that once he has met his bride their sexual relationship will end.

Yes, Phryne has a healthy sex drive and morals – an unusual combination in television.

In an interesting twist, Phryne ultimately helps facilitate the arranged marriage.

And, despite what American television writers may have conditioned us to expect, Phryne does not become a petty, jealous woman. She does not seek to destroy Chung’s relationship and win him back, nor does she feel disrespected.

Miss Fisher is a woman who knows what she wants – who made an educated choice.

Plus, there are other fish in the sea – the boxer, the old friend, the circus performer – after a while the murders do get a tad…outrageous. But the sex stays good.

 


Emma Thomas is a freelance writer, media development associate, and independent producer. Her musings can be found on Twitter (@EmmaGThomas) and her blog, while her newest film projects can be found at Two Minnow Films.

 

 

Seed & Spark: The Bravery of Being a “Slut” on Camera

So when I started production on ‘Slut: A Documentary Film,’ I knew the intensity of what I was asking of the women I interviewed. Not only were they sharing their personal experiences with sexual shaming, they were doing it on camera. They were using their full, legal names. They were putting their faces and their voices out there into the world, with the hope that what they had to say would change someone’s life.

Seed and Spark Screen Shot
Contribute to the Slut: A Documentary Film crowd-funding campaign to help The UnSlut Project complete post-production.

 

This is a guest post by Emily Lindin.

When I first started The UnSlut Project, I imagined it would function like the It Gets Better Project – but rather than focusing on LGBT youth, it would be geared toward girls who were being “slut”-shamed. The parallel was obvious: like people who are bullied for being LGBT, girls who are sexually bullied are often convinced that it’s not something about them that is “wrong”; rather, it is their very being, who they are, that is “dirty” and “bad.” This can make them feel worthless as a person and, in the most tragic cases, can lead to self-harm and even suicide.

In case you’re not familiar with the It Gets Better Project, the premise is that when LGBT youth don’t have supportive adults in their lives (which is, unfortunately, often the case), they can find comfort in videos made by adults who have survived similar bullying. These videos provide solidarity, hope, and the message that it will get better.

Slut: A Documentary Film is currently crowd-funding for post-production.
Slut: A Documentary Film is currently crowd-funding for post-production.

 

My idea was that this kind of project would make sense for young girls who were being sexually bullied, since they, too, often lack support from the adults in their lives. Many parents’ first instinct is to blame their daughter for being labeled a “slut” by her classmates, rather than to help her overcome that reputation in a kind, open-minded way. I had supportive parents growing up, but when I was bullied as the school “slut” back in the late 1990s, I would have greatly benefited from the reassuring messages of women who had survived something similar.

N'jaila action
N’Jaila Rhee shares her experience being shunned by her parents and church community after being sexually assaulted, as part of Slut: A Documentary Film.

So women started submitting their stories. But here’s the thing: they wrote to me instead of recording video messages, and in most cases they asked me to keep their submissions anonymous. Some of these women were in their 40s or 50s; decades before, someone had decided they were a “slut.” But there was still so much shame surrounding that time in their life that they could not risk being identified. They wanted to reach girls who were going through sexual bullying, they wanted to speak out about their stories, but the stigma surrounding the “slut” label was still so strong that they could only do so anonymously.

Allyson Pereira shares her experience being sexually bullied after sending a photo of her breasts to her high school ex-boyfriend, as part of "Slut: A Documentary Film."
Allyson Pereira shares her experience being sexually bullied after sending a photo of her breasts to her high school ex-boyfriend, as part of Slut: A Documentary Film.

I can’t blame these women for wanting to protect their identities. The stigma they fear is not imagined; in many cases, they could be putting their jobs or personal relationships at risk. In fact, when I first launched The UnSlut Project by blogging my own diary entries from when I was labeled a “slut” in middle school, I changed the names of everyone involved. To this day, I use a pen name to protect the people who bullied me over 15 years ago.

So when I started production on Slut: A Documentary Film, I knew the intensity of what I was asking of the women I interviewed. Not only were they sharing their personal experiences with sexual shaming, they were doing it on camera. They were using their full, legal names. They were putting their faces and their voices out there into the world, with the hope that what they had to say would change someone’s life.

They were doing something braver than I have ever done. And they were trusting me to represent their stories clearly and honestly, to make a film that will not only reach adults who need to know just how pervasive and widespread the issue of “slut”-shaming is, but whose message will find girls who need to know that “it gets better.”

 

_______________________

Emily Black and White

Emily Lindin is the founder of The UnSlut Project and the creator of Slut: A Documentary Film. She was labled a “slut” at age 11. Now a Harvard graduate pursuing her PhD in California, Emily started The UnSlut Project by blogging her middle school diaries. The project has grown into an online community where people who have experienced sexual shaming can share their stories, and where girls who are currently suffering can find support.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Colin teaches Ally you can Google people.
Colin teaches Ally you can Google people.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

What ‘Oz’ Owes to Early Radical Feminism by Michelle Dean via The Nation
Why ‘Oz the Great and Powerful’ Is A Major Step Back For Witches and Women by Elisabeth Rappe via Film.com

Where Were White Feminists Speaking Out For Quvenzhané Wallis? by Kirsten West Savali via Clutch Magazine
On Quvenzhané Wallis by Jessica Luther via Shakesville

Can Women in Hollywood Lean In? by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

What Happened in the Last Episode of ‘Girls’ Was Not “Uncomfortable Sex” by Samhita Mukhopadhyay via Feministing

‘Girls,’ Women and Mental Health by Kathleen Pye via Fem2pt0

Damsel in Distress (Part 1) Tropes vs. Women in Video Games by Anita Sarkeesian via Feminist Frequency 

Comedy Central Orders 10 Episodes of Broad City by Jesse David Fox via Vulture 
Enough Feisty Princesses: Disney Needs an Introverted Heroine by Lindsay Lowe via The Atlantic

Why The Fearful Hero Is A Good Thing For Video Games (On Lara Croft in Tomb Raider) by Becky Chambers via The Mary Sue

A Love Letter to Quvenzhané Wallis by Moyazb via The Crunk Feminist Collective 
What have you been reading this week?? Tell us in the comments! 

2013 Oscar Week: ‘Flight’s Unintentional Pro-Woman Message

Written by Lady T

Denzel Washington in Flight
Flight, directed by Robert Zemeckis and written by John Gatins, has a fascinating lead performance by Denzel Washington and an absolutely harrowing plane crash scene that will make you never want to fly again. It also has a poorly-conceived romance subplot with a character who is not so much a real woman as a distracting trope of a woman inserted to show a different side to the protagonist. No one who is looking for a Bechdel-passing thriller will want to pick up Flight, as there is gratuitous female nudity and few of the female characters are well-developed, to no fault of the capable actresses.
Yet despite the presence of exploitative nudity and poorly written female characters, I found one surprising, perhaps unintentional, feminist message in Flight, in the story involving Katerina Marquez, the female character with the least amount of development and screentime.
Flight opens with the morning after of a sexual encounter between pilot Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) and flight attendant Katerina Marquez (Nadine Velazquez). (There is female nudity but no male nudity, because of course there is, and the lingering shots on her body are pure male fantasy/objectification.) Based on their brief conversation, we learn that Whip and Katerina seem to like each other well enough, but the sex was definitely on physical attraction and no real emotional connection. We also learn that they drank – a lot – the night before the flight.
Later in the day, the passengers board the flight, Katerina helps them to their seats, and Whip mixes several mini-bottles of vodka into his drink, making it clear that he has a serious problem with alcohol and thinks nothing of how his behavior might affect the safety of the passengers.
When the plane starts to fall apart, though, Whip is an absolute master at the helm, remaining calm and controlled and guiding the plane to safety. Katerina, meanwhile, notices a child passenger who has fallen out of his seat when the plane turned upside down. She unbuckles her own seat belt, crawls to the other side of the plane, and puts the child back in his chair, strapping him back in.

Nadine Velazquez as Katerine Marquez and Tamara Tunie as Margaret Thomason in Flight
This is the moment where I decided that I liked Flight, even if it is a very flawed film from both an artistic and feminist perspective, because the script recognizes that human beings are complex, not completely good or completely evil. Whip and Katerina both drank before the flight (and Whip during, which is even worse), but they’re still both capable of acts of great heroism.
During more turbulence, Katerina falls, breaks her neck, and dies. (A review at Bitch magazine decries this dramatic choice as an example of the “woman who has sex in a horror movie dies first” cliche, which I feel entirely misses the point and is downright insulting to a character who died in the line of duty, saving a kid’s life.) Whip survives, though with many serious injuries.
The rest of the film is focused on Whip’s journey as the controversy surrounding the plane crash is hyped in the media, and he goes under investigation. We learn that Whip’s pilot skills are indeed magnificent, and that he saved 96 out of the 102 passengers on board. At the same time, the script and Washington never let him off the hook for his terrible behavior. As the story unfolds, Whip grows increasingly arrogant, reckless, addicted, and dangerous, repeating over and over again that “they gave him a broken plane,” as though this absolves him from drinking/snorting cocaine while flying.

Whip addressing the press outside his ex-wife’s house
Whip finally attends his National Transportation Safety Board hearing (while drunk and on cocaine), where the lead investigator Ellen Block (played by Melissa Leo) reveals that the cause of the plane crash was a damaged jackscrew in the elevator assembly. The crash is in no way Whip’s fault. Sitting in the hearing, even while drunk and pretending not to be, Whip feels as though he’s in the clear.
Then Block drops an unexpected bomb on his head: the empty vodka bottles were found on the plane. Only the flight crew had access to the alcohol on board, and Katerina Marquez’s toxicology report tested positive for alcohol. She asks Whip if he thinks Katerina drank the vodka.
My stomach twisted in nausea when Block asked this question, because I knew exactly what would happen if Whip let Katerina take the fall for the vodka bottles. The media would go into a frenzy. The story about the broken plane would turn into the story of the drunk slut of a flight attendant whose reckless behavior almost ruined the reputation of a decent man who saved the lives of ninety people. Katerina’s rescue of the child on the plane would go largely unnoticed. The media would tarnish her name, all too eager to sink their claws into another story about a fallen woman.
It would be all too easy for Whip to lie. He’s lied already to everyone around him, including himself. The rest of his career rides on this lie. Katerina’s career won’t be ruined if he lies; she’s already dead. There is nothing to stop him from lying — except his conscience.

Whip right before (eventually) doing the right thing
For whatever reason, Whip can’t lie. When confronted with Katerina’s face, he can’t continue with his charade. After struggling with himself and muttering “God help me” under his breath, he says, “No, Katerina did not drink the vodka…because I drank the vodka.” The consequences are swift: his reputation is ruined, his career is over, and he has to serve time in jail, but his conscience is a little clearer now.
Whip refusing to blame Katerina is not a heroic act on his part; it’s simply Whip taking long-overdue responsibility for his actions. But living in a world that blames women for their own rape and abuse, a world that shames women for stepping outside of their prescribed roles, that punishes mistakes any mistakes women make, that finds excuses for famous athletes who rape women and kill their girlfriends, I felt gratified to see a male character refuse to tarnish a woman’s name, even at personal cost to himself.
Katerina is not a character we get to know very well. She only exists in the plot to serve as a parallel to Whip, and she’s naked for no real reason at the beginning of the film. All the same, I appreciated that the male lead acknowledges Katerina’s humanity and her worth as a person. He acknowledges that she doesn’t deserve to have her reputation dragged through the mud. Even though her character is killed early in the film, she is not treated as disposable, because women do not deserve to be treated as disposable. I’m uncertain that this message was intentional on the part of the team who created Flight, but I’m grateful for it all the same. 

———-

Lady T is an aspiring writer and comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

2013 Oscar Week: ‘Flight’s Unintentional Pro-Woman Message

Written by Lady T

Denzel Washington in Flight
Flight, directed by Robert Zemeckis and written by John Gatins, has a fascinating lead performance by Denzel Washington and an absolutely harrowing plane crash scene that will make you never want to fly again. It also has a poorly-conceived romance subplot with a character who is not so much a real woman as a distracting trope of a woman inserted to show a different side to the protagonist. No one who is looking for a Bechdel-passing thriller will want to pick up Flight, as there is gratuitous female nudity and few of the female characters are well-developed, to no fault of the capable actresses.
Yet despite the presence of exploitative nudity and poorly written female characters, I found one surprising, perhaps unintentional, feminist message in Flight, in the story involving Katerina Marquez, the female character with the least amount of development and screentime.
Flight opens with the morning after of a sexual encounter between pilot Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) and flight attendant Katerina Marquez (Nadine Velazquez). (There is female nudity but no male nudity, because of course there is, and the lingering shots on her body are pure male fantasy/objectification.) Based on their brief conversation, we learn that Whip and Katerina seem to like each other well enough, but the sex was definitely on physical attraction and no real emotional connection. We also learn that they drank – a lot – the night before the flight.
Later in the day, the passengers board the flight, Katerina helps them to their seats, and Whip mixes several mini-bottles of vodka into his drink, making it clear that he has a serious problem with alcohol and thinks nothing of how his behavior might affect the safety of the passengers.
When the plane starts to fall apart, though, Whip is an absolute master at the helm, remaining calm and controlled and guiding the plane to safety. Katerina, meanwhile, notices a child passenger who has fallen out of his seat when the plane turned upside down. She unbuckles her own seat belt, crawls to the other side of the plane, and puts the child back in his chair, strapping him back in.

Nadine Velazquez as Katerine Marquez and Tamara Tunie as Margaret Thomason in Flight
This is the moment where I decided that I liked Flight, even if it is a very flawed film from both an artistic and feminist perspective, because the script recognizes that human beings are complex, not completely good or completely evil. Whip and Katerina both drank before the flight (and Whip during, which is even worse), but they’re still both capable of acts of great heroism.
During more turbulence, Katerina falls, breaks her neck, and dies. (A review at Bitch magazine decries this dramatic choice as an example of the “woman who has sex in a horror movie dies first” cliche, which I feel entirely misses the point and is downright insulting to a character who died in the line of duty, saving a kid’s life.) Whip survives, though with many serious injuries.
The rest of the film is focused on Whip’s journey as the controversy surrounding the plane crash is hyped in the media, and he goes under investigation. We learn that Whip’s pilot skills are indeed magnificent, and that he saved 96 out of the 102 passengers on board. At the same time, the script and Washington never let him off the hook for his terrible behavior. As the story unfolds, Whip grows increasingly arrogant, reckless, addicted, and dangerous, repeating over and over again that “they gave him a broken plane,” as though this absolves him from drinking/snorting cocaine while flying.

Whip addressing the press outside his ex-wife’s house
Whip finally attends his National Transportation Safety Board hearing (while drunk and on cocaine), where the lead investigator Ellen Block (played by Melissa Leo) reveals that the cause of the plane crash was a damaged jackscrew in the elevator assembly. The crash is in no way Whip’s fault. Sitting in the hearing, even while drunk and pretending not to be, Whip feels as though he’s in the clear.
Then Block drops an unexpected bomb on his head: the empty vodka bottles were found on the plane. Only the flight crew had access to the alcohol on board, and Katerina Marquez’s toxicology report tested positive for alcohol. She asks Whip if he thinks Katerina drank the vodka.
My stomach twisted in nausea when Block asked this question, because I knew exactly what would happen if Whip let Katerina take the fall for the vodka bottles. The media would go into a frenzy. The story about the broken plane would turn into the story of the drunk slut of a flight attendant whose reckless behavior almost ruined the reputation of a decent man who saved the lives of ninety people. Katerina’s rescue of the child on the plane would go largely unnoticed. The media would tarnish her name, all too eager to sink their claws into another story about a fallen woman.
It would be all too easy for Whip to lie. He’s lied already to everyone around him, including himself. The rest of his career rides on this lie. Katerina’s career won’t be ruined if he lies; she’s already dead. There is nothing to stop him from lying — except his conscience.

Whip right before (eventually) doing the right thing
For whatever reason, Whip can’t lie. When confronted with Katerina’s face, he can’t continue with his charade. After struggling with himself and muttering “God help me” under his breath, he says, “No, Katerina did not drink the vodka…because I drank the vodka.” The consequences are swift: his reputation is ruined, his career is over, and he has to serve time in jail, but his conscience is a little clearer now.
Whip refusing to blame Katerina is not a heroic act on his part; it’s simply Whip taking long-overdue responsibility for his actions. But living in a world that blames women for their own rape and abuse, a world that shames women for stepping outside of their prescribed roles, that punishes mistakes any mistakes women make, that finds excuses for famous athletes who rape women and kill their girlfriends, I felt gratified to see a male character refuse to tarnish a woman’s name, even at personal cost to himself.
Katerina is not a character we get to know very well. She only exists in the plot to serve as a parallel to Whip, and she’s naked for no real reason at the beginning of the film. All the same, I appreciated that the male lead acknowledges Katerina’s humanity and her worth as a person. He acknowledges that she doesn’t deserve to have her reputation dragged through the mud. Even though her character is killed early in the film, she is not treated as disposable, because women do not deserve to be treated as disposable. I’m uncertain that this message was intentional on the part of the team who created Flight, but I’m grateful for it all the same. 

———-

Lady T is a writer and comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Megan‘s Picks:

How to Increase Media Diversity: 3 Lessons from the London Feminist Film Festival by Spectra via Racialicious

Female Trouble: Why Powerful Women Threaten Hollywood by Sasha Stone via Awards Daily

Why Having Only Strong Girl Heroines Is Not Enough by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

Matt Lauer Is Gross, Anne Hathaway Kicks Slut-Shaming’s Ass by Jos Truitt via Feministing

Women of Color Talk Back: “Birthday Song” via FAAN Mail

Shonda Rhimes On Why She Has Many Gay Characters on Her Shows by Melissa Silverstein via Women and Hollywood

The Female Pilots Who Were Cut From ‘Return of the Jedi’ and the Future of Star Wars by Alyssa Rosenberg via Think Progress

Why Talking About Character Gender Still Matters (Even Though It Shouldn’t) by Becky Chambers via The Mary Sue

Serena Williams Is Not a Costume by Jessica Luther via Speaker’s Corner in the ATX (scATX )

‘The Mindy Project’: The Best Show You’re Not Watching by Molly McCaffrey via I Will Not Diet

The Censorship of ‘Mean Girls’: What Was MTV Thinking? by Ramou Starr via Hello Giggles

If Women Ran Hollywood… by Karensa Cadenas via Women and Hollywood

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

‘Reality Bites,’ ‘Slackers’ and the Movies Made About Underemployed Youth

Occupy Wall Street started a year ago this Monday. The movement came out of a recession and an underemployed youth culture.

So, of course I want to look at a film that follows the frustrations that young people face in an economic crisis. Unfortunately, save for Lena Dunham productions, there isn’t a lot of that coming out right now – and that issue might be for another post. (As in: our economy is being dragged through the dirt, but our high grossing blockbuster hits are still mostly about rich white dudes. Maybe these rich white dudes observe the plight of the poor, but it is still from their vantage point. i.e. The Social Network/Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps/The Dark Knight Rises.)

Surprisingly there’s more films about frustrated-20-somethings in a bad job market from the early 90s. The 90s being the decade where a lot of people were pretty well off. But, there was that recession in the early 90s that influenced music, art and film in a lot of interesting ways.
Two films in particular, Slackerand Reality Bites, came out around the same time to address a youth culture that felt disenfranchised. They both ostensibly sought to delve into the coming-of-age story specific to disillusionment with the American dream. While Slacker is maybe a bit convoluted in its non-narrative narrative, it is far more successful in encapsulating a culture and economic climate that fed into each other. Reality Bites, on the other hand, just sort of bites.

Movie poster for Slacker
Richard Linklater’s Slackerfollows various characters around Austin, Texas. Each person bumps into, or passes another conversation that leads the camera to another story. The characters all seem to share the same sense of detachment from mainstream culture and desire to pontificate in a typical Linklater fashion. There isn’t really an arc to the film, but there is a voice. And, that’s the point. Linklater is trying to capture something while also getting a chance to look at long semi-philosophically titillating tête-à-têtes.

Reality Bitesinstead uses the educated but wandering youth archetype to facilitate an easy-to-consume pop culture-inundated whine-fest where the characters seem a bit more concerned about their love-hate romances than anything else.

When talking about Reality Bites I will be using the abbreviated form of the term “romantic comedy” (i.e. rom-com) as a verb. Here is an example of how I will use this: In Ben Stiller’s directorial debut in the 1994 film, Reality Bites, about 20-somethings trying to get by in a recession-drenched economy, Stiller took what could have been an informative narrative about the emerging 90s youth culture, and instead he went and rom-commed it.

The woefully hip cast of Reality Bites
Reality Bites just about literally fetishizes the economic strife of the young by slapping romantic intrigue on minimum wage and unemployment.

It also seems to miss the mark on what that youth culture was at the time. Did Stiller think grunge meant jerk? Because the male love interest, Troy (Ethan Hawke), is not appealing in any way. He’s a pseudo-intellectual who seems to have plenty of gripes with “the Man,” but nothing much intelligent to say about it. He’s hung up on the female love interest (and yes, that’s how I’m identifying them, since they rarely rise above those archetypes) Lelaina (Winona Ryder), in the most jealous and obnoxious way possible. After he spies Lelaina hooking up with a guy after her date, Troy makes snide comments indicating she’s promiscuous. Lelaina, our primary protagonist, does seem pretty cool sans her narcissistic documentary. But, she’s drawn to the poorly written symbol of her culture, Troy, for inexplicable reasons.

It’s painfully rom-commed. Reality Bites seems so contrived and marketed to a counterculture demographic, but it still relies on lazy plot devices and expects the audience to be intrigued by sexual tension over everything else. Which leaves the audience without much to actually connect with.

These films are both trying to appeal to a specific demographic, but the tone of Reality Bites is one that is perpetuated even while drowning us in unnecessary hormones. 

Reality Bites Slackers: and the Movies Made About Underemployed Youth

Occupy Wall Street started a year ago this Monday. The movement came out of a recession and an underemployed youth culture.

So, of course I want to look at a film that follows the frustrations that young people face in an economic crisis. Unfortunately, save for Lena Dunham productions, there isn’t a lot of that coming out right now – and that issue might be for another post. (As in: our economy is being dragged through the dirt, but our high grossing blockbuster hits are still mostly about rich white dudes. Maybe these rich white dudes observe the plight of the poor, but it is still from their vantage point. i.e. The Social Network/Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps/The Dark Knight Rises.)

Surprisingly there’s more films about frustrated-20-somethings in a bad job market from the early 90s. The 90s being the decade where a lot of people were pretty well off. But, there was that recession in the early 90s that influenced music, art and film in a lot of interesting ways.
Two films in particular, Slackerand Reality Bites, came out around the same time to address a youth culture that felt disenfranchised. They both ostensibly sought to delve into the coming-of-age story specific to disillusionment with the American dream. While Slacker is maybe a bit convoluted in its non-narrative narrative, it is far more successful in encapsulating a culture and economic climate that fed into each other. Reality Bites, on the other hand, just sort of bites.

Movie poster for Slacker
Richard Linklater’s Slackerfollows various characters around Austin, Texas. Each person bumps into, or passes another conversation that leads the camera to another story. The characters all seem to share the same sense of detachment from mainstream culture and desire to pontificate in a typical Linklater fashion. There isn’t really an arc to the film, but there is a voice. And, that’s the point. Linklater is trying to capture something while also getting a chance to look at long semi-philosophically titillating tête-à-têtes.

Reality Bitesinstead uses the educated but wandering youth archetype to facilitate an easy-to-consume pop culture-inundated whine-fest where the characters seem a bit more concerned about their love-hate romances than anything else.

When talking about Reality Bites I will be using the abbreviated form of the term “romantic comedy” (i.e. rom-com) as a verb. Here is an example of how I will use this: In Ben Stiller’s directorial debut in the 1994 film, Reality Bites, about 20-somethings trying to get by in a recession-drenched economy, Stiller took what could have been an informative narrative about the emerging 90s youth culture, and instead he went and rom-commed it.

The woefully hip cast of Reality Bites
Reality Bites just about literally fetishizes the economic strife of the young by slapping romantic intrigue on minimum wage and unemployment.

It also seems to miss the mark on what that youth culture was at the time. Did Stiller think grunge meant jerk? Because the male love interest, Troy (Ethan Hawke), is not appealing in any way. He’s a pseudo-intellectual who seems to have plenty of gripes with “the Man,” but nothing much intelligent to say about it. He’s hung up on the female love interest (and yes, that’s how I’m identifying them, since they rarely rise above those archetypes) Lelaina (Winona Ryder), in the most jealous and obnoxious way possible. After he spies Lelaina hooking up with a guy after her date, Troy makes snide comments indicating she’s promiscuous. Lelaina, our primary protagonist, does seem pretty cool sans her narcissistic documentary. But, she’s drawn to the poorly written symbol of her culture, Troy, for inexplicable reasons.

It’s painfully rom-commed. Reality Bites seems so contrived and marketed to a counterculture demographic, but it still relies on lazy plot devices and expects the audience to be intrigued by sexual tension over everything else. Which leaves the audience without much to actually connect with.

These films are both trying to appeal to a specific demographic, but the tone of Reality Bites is one that is perpetuated even while drowning us in unnecessary hormones.