Tag: Stephanie Rogers

YouTube Break: Jean Kilbourne’s "Killing Us Softly" Lecture

From her website:

Jean Kilbourne, Ed.D. is internationally recognized for her pioneering work on the image of women in advertising and her critical studies of alcohol and tobacco advertising. Her films, lectures, and television appearances have been seen by millions of people throughout the world. She was named by The New York Times Magazine as one of the three most popular speakers on college campuses. She is the author of the award-winning book Can’t Buy My Love: How Advertising Changes the Way We Think and Feel and co-author of So Sexy So Soon: The New Sexualized Childhood and What Parents Can Do to Protect Their Kids. The prize-winning films based on her lectures include Killing Us Softly, Spin the Bottle, and Slim Hopes.

In Appreciation of Fathers Who Have Daughters

Joel and Heather, New Year’s
Releasing Balloons for Joel
On Wednesday, May 25th, my brother-in-law committed suicide. (Yes, I know the obituary says he died on March 25th, and if Joel were here, we’d be laughing our asses off at that completely unacceptable typo. He’d be like, “Did the funeral home seriously screw up my date of death?”)
The real tragedy, though, is that he left behind his wife—my younger sister, Heather—and three amazing daughters: Sophia, age 6; Chloe, age 4; and Penelope, age 2.
Joel and Penelope
I’ve wondered if Bitch Flicks is really the right place to talk about something like this. And I’ve decided it is—because Joel was a huge fan of Bitch Flicks. He constantly encouraged me to keep writing, even when our site was in its baby stages with no real traffic to speak of, and some of my favorite conversations with Joel surrounded how films, particularly the animated crap Disney and Pixar churn out, impact his daughters.
Joel and Heather and I (and my whole family) grew up in Middletown, Ohio (which recently made the Forbes top ten list of fastest dying towns). To say it’s a conservative town is like saying George Bush was a shitty president—I mean, duh. Joel was a self-proclaimed jock-type who went to a conservative, Christian high school (he and my sister were high school sweethearts), and who never really thought much about women’s lack of equality—until he became the father of three girls.
Heather and Joel
He called me often with stories about his language slip-ups. Once, he said he and Sophia were discussing the origin of mankind. (Because she’s 6 and a genius and wants to know about these things.) So Joel talked to her for a while about evolution, and summed it all up with, “Basically, man has been around for a long time.” Sophia looked at him and said, “Daddy, how long has woman been around?”
I love that. Because when he told me that story, he felt actual shame and became even more conscious of how those little things were a huge deal in the way his girls thought about themselves and their place in the world. As a result of his awareness, the girls and I often have conversations about the movies they watch—with Sophia saying things like, “Why are there so many boys in this movie?” and Chloe asking, “Why does a boy save Coraline at the end?”
Joel and Chloe
Chloe and Sophia Sleeping Last Night
They think critically about gender and representations of girls and women in the media (at ages 6 and 4), and that’s because of Joel, who was such a wonderful dad to those girls, and because of their mom, Heather.
In fact, Heather just told me about an adorable interaction. Chloe was riding in the car with her and said, “I have a girlfriend at school. And I want to marry Kelly Clarkson when I grow up. She’s a girl too, though.” Heather said, “Honey, by the time you’re old enough to get married, you’ll be able to marry a girl if you want to.”
Then, when I was in Ohio for Joel’s memorial service, Chloe told me she had a boyfriend (but that “it’s a secret to him”—omgcuteness). I said, “That’s awesome, but what about your girlfriend?” And she said, all exasperated, “I have a boyfriend and a girlfriend.” I can’t tell you how happy it made me that she spoke to me like I was a complete dumbass for asking her that.
Joel and Sophia
Penelope, who’s 2, just runs around like a rambunctious toddler and is inevitably dirty and messy and muddy and scraped and fearless, and that, too, is a credit to her parents, who have never encouraged their girls to sit up straight and keep their legs closed and say please and thank you and smile and all that other crap girls are supposed to learn when they’re little. Sure, Penelope likes to sleep with her baby doll, but she also likes to sleep with her shoes (seriously) and her books and the occasional pair of 3D glasses (WTF).
In one of the last email correspondences Joel and I had, he wrote:
Sophie and Chloe Meeting Penny

“I have learned so much from you; you have completely changed my worldview, and that has helped me be a better father to my three daughters and recognize the hurdles they will face as they grow into their adult selves. I want to say thank you for that.”

One of the things that upsets me most is that I’m not sure I ever really expressed to Joel how much I respected and appreciated him, especially as a father to three daughters. He didn’t treat them like “girls” … he treated them like kids. If Chloe wanted to watch Handy Manny all morning, he bought her a Handy Manny toolkit and pretended things were broken in the house so that she could “fix” them with Squeeze (the name of Manny’s wrench) and Turner (the name of Manny’s screw driver).
Penelope’s Collage
Heather and The Girls on Halloween
Joel had a ton of experience in that realm because he was a stay-at-home dad for two years (and believe me, the two of us had many conversations about the bullshit, outdated ideas surrounding gender roles, particularly those pertaining to the domestic sphere). Sophia, Chloe, and Penelope worshipped their dad, and I know when they get older, they’ll struggle to understand his suicide. But right now, they’re at home with their mom, making picture collages of Joel, and celebrating Father’s Day.
Girls, I want to tell you how much Daddy loved you. And Heather, I want you to remember, always—you were the love of Joel’s life.
So, Happy Father’s Day, to all the dads out there who teach their daughters that they’re important, and who learn from their daughters, too.

An account has been set up in Joel’s name, for his three daughters, if anyone would like to donate.

Quote of the Day: bell hooks

In 1997, the Media Education Foundation produced an interview with bell hooks, a renowned author, feminist, and social activist, called, “BELL HOOKS: Cultural Criticism & Transformation.” hooks discusses a variety of pop culture topics, including rap and hip-hop, Madonna’s influence, Hollywood, and the often negative representations of race, class, and gender within them. You can watch the full interview in parts on YouTube, and you can read the entire transcript of the interview, but I want to quote from just two sections; the first deals with the feminist backlash in mass media:
One of the issues that no one wants to talk about is that finally, the most successful political movement in the United States over the last twenty years was really the feminist movement, and that there is a tremendous backlash to feminism that is being enacted on the stage of mass media. So that films like Leaving Las Vegas really are about ushering in a new, old version of the desirable woman that really is profoundly misogynous based and sexist. It’s no accident; we know that when women went into the factories in the World Wars because men were not here–that when those wars ended–mass media was used to get women out of the factory and back into the home. Well in a sense, mass media is being used in that very same way right now, to get women out of feminism and back into some patriarchal mode of thinking, and movies to me are the lead propaganda machine in this right now.

hooks said this in 1997. Almost fifteen years ago. So have movies gotten better or worse since then in contributing to the feminist backlash? When I try to come up with some truly great feminist-leaning films released (in Hollywood) in those fifteen years, it’s admittedly a struggle–and that doesn’t mean I’m saying they don’t exist. Yet when I think about sexism in Hollywood films, it takes about three seconds to recall a handful of misogyny-laden movies released only within the past several months. In fact, it’s virtually impossible not to find sexist films hitting the mainstream every opening weekend.
hooks continues her discussion of movies, referencing the filmmaker Spike Lee and critiquing representations of blackness in Hollywood:
A major magazine like Time or Newsweek just recently carried a story on Spike Lee as a failure. I mean, it just was amazing! How could you talk about Spike Lee as a failure? It was something like, Malcolm X was made for thirty-seven million, but it only made forty-some million. And I thought, well, how is that a failure? You not only paid for your movie, but you had some excess profit–though not a great deal, not what Hollywood would want. But that can become talked about in mass media as a failure, even though Woody Allen, who has made many films that do not make a lot of money, does not then get talked about as a failed filmmaker. And so that is in the interest of a certain structure of white supremacy and patriarchy, to put Spike Lee down at this point in his career, and to make it seem that somehow he could not deliver the goods, because part of that is about sanctioning white people to become the new makers of so-called black film.

As in, for example, a film like Waiting to Exhale, which is sold and marketed in ways that suggest this is a black film. I mean, people kept telling me, this is a film about black women, this is going to be for black people. In fact, this was a typical Hollywood shitty, uninteresting film–the script written by white people, all marketed as being a film by and about blackness, successfully. Nothing Spike Lee has done can match the financial return of this piece of shit. This is how blackness can be done successfully, and the problem lies not with the terms of what makes blackness successful in Hollywood or on the screen, but with Spike Lee as an individual. And that I think is tragic because so many black people are buying into that mode of thinking. That Spike Lee somehow represents a failure, when in fact, Spike Lee will continue to be the most successful black filmmaker in the United States, and he’s not by any means a failure.

Here’s a way in which, as Hollywood decides to occupy the territory of blackness, it becomes very useful to say, “We let black people have that territory, and they just didn’t know what to do with it. They made these strange films like Girl 6–it didn’t even have a plot. I mean, Crooklyn didn’t even have a plot.” Which of course is completely bogus, because the plot of Crooklyn was very obvious and very simple; it was about a family where the mother is dying in the family. But I can’t tell you how many white reviewers wrote that it didn’t have a plot. When what they should have said is that it didn’t have a plot that interested us. That White America is not interested in black mothers that are dying. So I think that is going to have deep ramifications for the future of representing blackness in Hollywood–because it is really almost a public announcement of the white takeover of that particular territory, the issue of representing blackness in Hollywood. 

It’s interesting to look at how films represent blackness in Hollywood currently, and if it’s changed for the better or for the worse within the past fifteen years. Tyler Perry has certainly become one of the most prolific and successful–if not the most successful–black filmmakers in Hollywood, but there’s also much controversy surrounding his representations of race in film. Precious, Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, garnered Oscar nominations and a Best Supporting Actress win for Mo’Nique, and Dreamgirls catapulted Jennifer Hudson’s career after she won her Best Supporting Actress Oscar. And within these past fifteen years, the Best Actress Oscar was awarded, for the first time ever, to a black woman, Halle Berry.

I don’t have the answers. I think it’s important in general to look at the kinds of roles Hollywood rewards women for playing; but it’s perhaps even more important to keep insisting that Hollywood filmmakers create better roles for women. Overall, I’d argue that we’re much more inundated with pop culture imagery everywhere now than we were fifteen years ago, with advancements in technology (and the increased and constant advertising that comes with it). So if the representations of race and gender in the media, and movies in particular, haven’t changed much–or have in fact gotten worse–and the pop culture and mass media machine is churning out this shit faster than it ever has in history, where does that leave us? 

Ashley Judd Speaks Out About Rape Culture: The Roundup

Last week, all hell broke loose when an excerpt from Ashley Judd’s new memoir, All That Is Bitter & Sweet, hit the internet. This is the offending passage: 

YouthAIDS created hip public service announcements for TV and radio using popular local and international celebrities and athletes and was participating in the MTV World AIDS Day ‘Staying Alive’ concerts. Along with other performers, YouthAIDS was supported by rap and hip-hop artists like Snoop Dogg and P. Diddy to spread the message … um, who? Those names were a red flag. As far as I’m concerned, most rap and hip-hop music—with its rape culture and insanely abusive lyrics and depictions of girls and women as ‘ho’s’—is the contemporary soundtrack of misogyny.

After a serious backlash in which prominent members of the Rap and Hip Hop community (including Questlove of The Roots and rapper Talib Kweli) criticized Judd’s comments, Judd reached out to her friend Russell Simmons and clarified her stance on Global Grind: 

As a thoughtful friend put it, “fans stand behind their artists,” and rightfully so. Hip-hop and rap — which are distinct from one another, although kin — stand for a lot more than a beat and vibe. They represent more than I, an outsider, has the right to articulate. This tweet capture’s the essence of what you have taught me: “Rap is something you do….Hip-Hop is a CULTURE you live! Don’t let a few bad apples’ lyrical message speak for a whole culture!” My equivalent genres, as an Appalachian, an oppressed and ridiculed people, would be mountain music and bluegrass. Those genres tell the history, struggles, grief, soul, faith, and culture of my people. In imagining how I would feel if someone made negative generalizations about that music, I am deeply remorseful that anything I may have said in “All That Is Bitter & Sweet” would hurt adherents of genres that represent their culture. This book is an act of love and service. Insulting people of goodwill is the antithesis of its raison d’etre.

I have looked closely at the feedback I have received about those two paragraphs, and absolutely see your points, and I fully capitulate to your rightness, and again humbly offer my heartfelt amends for not having been able to see the fault in my writing, and not having anticipated it would be painful for so many. Crucial words are missing that could have made a giant difference. It should have read: “Some hip-hop, and some rap, is abusive. Some of it is part of the contemporary soundtrack misogyny (which, of course, is multi-sonic). Some of it promotes the rape culture so pervasive in our world…..” Also, I, ideally, would have anticipated that some folks would see only representations of those two paragraphs, and not be familiar with the whole book, my work, and my message. I should have been clear in them that I include hip-hop and rap as part of a much larger problem. (You can read her full statement here.)

I’ve had a difficult time figuring out how to write about this. I understand that people, especially people of color, will rightfully get pissed when they perceive a privileged white woman to have insulted Black culture. And as a privileged white woman, I don’t always feel comfortable engaging in race-related issues like this because, frankly, I’m afraid I’ll either make ignorant assumptions (because of my privilege) or not contextualize my points appropriately (because of my privilege). Ashley Judd has been criticized for doing both those things. In the aftermath, she’s gotten some seriously misogynistic vitriol thrown at her (just spend a few moments on Twitter, if you’re curious) and has even received death threats because of it. 
But the truth is, when I first read Judd’s comments, I read them as a factual indictment. Rap and hip hop often contribute to rape culture because all of culture contributes to rape culture because we live in a fucking rape culture. Since that’s the only way I know how to articulate my feelings on this, which is arguably unintelligible and at the very least lacking any kind of analysis of rape culture (I did that here), I’m rounding up some articles that do a much better job than I can of examining race and gender as intersecting oppressions, and how Judd’s recent remarks fit into that discussion. [Major trigger warnings for discussions of rape, sexual assault, misogyny, and violence against women.] 
  
Sound-Off: Ashley Judd Was Right about Hip Hop by Sophia A. Nelson, from Essence:

My people, my people, when will we face the music and save ourselves from ourselves?

Here we go again, yet another well-meaning White person who makes a common sense, very reasonable, factually based statement about something (in this case rap music) that we all know is TRUE and what do we do? We jump all over her and demand that she apologize for “offending us.” Really? 

Seriously, what will it take for us to stop the madness? Who among us in his or her right mind can actually defend openly mysoginistic, hateful and demeaning lyrics geared toward Black women and Black culture? I am no C. Delores Tucker, but I find myself asking some hard questions lately relative to where we are as Black people when it comes to how we value our most precious commodity: Black women.

Ashley Judd and Hip-Hop Culture by Kevin Powell, from ThyBlackMan.com:

I am a hip-hop head for life, since my days dancing on streets and at clubs and writing graffiti on walls; to my days as a writer for Vibe magazine and curating the first exhibit on hip-hop history at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; to my current task of writing a biography, the next several years, on the life of Tupac Shakur. So I know there is a difference between hip-hop culture, which I represent, and the hip-hop industry, which is what Ashley Judd is referencing in her book.

And we’d be lying to ourselves, hip-hop heads or not, if we actually could say, with straight faces, that hip-hop culture has not been severely undermined, turned inside out, and made into an industry that promotes some of the most horrific images of women and men, that encourages oversexualization and materialism, that pushes anti-intellectualism and a brand of manhood that seems only to exist if one is engaging in the most destructive forms of violence and degrading of one’s self, and of others. That is not hip-hop. That is called a minstrel show, circa the 21st century. And if you really love something the way I love that some thing called hip-hop, then we would be honest about it and not go on ego trips attacking an Ashley Judd for having the courage to say what we should be saying ourselves.

That enough is enough of this madness, that it is no longer acceptable to say our culture is just reflecting what is going on in our communities. Art is not just to reflect what is happening. Art, at its best, is also about dialoguing about and correcting the ugliness in our communities. That will not happen if art is just as ugly as real life, if we are at a point where we cannot tell real life from the staged life.

For sure, Ms. Judd mentions this in her book when she talks about 50 Cent offstage, how professional and polite he was, then the moment he took the stage out came the hyper-masculinity, the bravado, the posturing, the manufactured character. Rather than curse out or disparage Ashley Judd, I think we should instead ask ourselves who we are, truly, in these times, and why so many of us continue to have our identities programmed and directed by record labels and radio and video channels under the illusion of keeping it 100 percent real? Real for whom, and at what cost to our communities?

Back in the 1990s, when I was writing for Vibe, I did an interview with the late C. Delores Tucker, an older Black woman who led a crusade against what she thought were indecent rap lyrics. I was so much younger emotionally and in terms of basic common sense, and did everything I could to make Ms. Tucker look like a buffoon in the printed interview. I really regret that because these women, the real leaders on our planet, are right. Why should it be acceptable to tolerate any culture, be it hip-hop, rock, jazz, reality television, video games, or certain kinds of Hollywood films, that create a space that says it is okay, normal, to denigrate women and girls with words and images? 

Way to Teach Ashley Judd a Lesson! Now, How Are We Better for It? by Christelyn Karazin, from Madame Noire: 

What we really need to do is examine why rappers are so invested in silencing someone who could have been an advocate for causes and interests of black women. Perhaps the answer lies in what one commenter said on a popular feminist website: “Black male celebrities almost ONLY get pissed about racism in public discourse if it threatens black *masculine* culture and are either totally silent or indifferent about the ways in which black women are effected by racism, sexism in general and sexism from the men within their own racial group. (re: Spike Lee and others who have come out in support of Chris Brown).” She has a point. When was the last time black men, en masse, mobilized because someone offended a black woman? And before you start Googling, let’s stick to this decade, please.

I’m fuming right now because with all of the attacks on Ms. Judd, we, black women, have lost an ally. And it’s not like we have so many to spare. Never mind that Judd has worked tirelessly for the betterment of all women around the world, and she expresses a genuine concern, I guess she’ll learn her lesson next time to dare defend black women, and this incident will teach anyone else who comes along that does not align with The Guardians of All Things Dark & Lovely in the future.

Why, oh why are we so quick to defend the very men who abuse and debase us? Why does Chris Brown have a stable of black women cheerleaders behind him after he pounded Rihanna’s face in? Why did Jay-Z, a drug dealer who shot his own brother at only 12-years-old, make his millions off the backs of black women and become a pinnacle of success? Why do we have spokespeople in the New Black Panthers rallying behind more than a dozen black boys who raped an 11-year-old child and join the pile-on in blaming her?
With That Said … by Ta-Nehisi Coates, from The Atlantic:

[in response to Questlove’s assertion via Twitter that “EVERY genre of music has elements of violence.”] I mean yeah it does. But as a hip-hop fan, and as a music fan, it’s really hard for me to believe that all musical forms are equally misogynistic. If we’re being honest, I think it’s worth noting that Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” isn’t just a song, it’s actually is an entry into a rather prolific sub-genre that that spans from “That Girl’s A Slut” to “I Ain’t The One” to the original “Gold-digger” to “Sophisticated Bitch” to “Black Vagina Finda” to “Treat Her Like A Prostitute” to “Davy Crockett” to “The Bitches” to “Dead Wrong” to “Wildflower” to “Hoe Happy Jackie” to “Truly Yours” to “Beautiful Skin” to “The Nappy Dugout” to “I’m Only Out For One Thing,” to “Let A Ho Be A Ho” to “Bitches Ain’t Shit” and so on…

Ashley Judd was right about hip hop … Kinda. by Rob Fields, from BoldAsLove.us:

Let’s get some things out of the way early. We know that this statement doesn’t apply to all hip hop. There are thoughtful, creative artists whose music is not based on denigrating women. Mos Def, Talib Kweli, J-Live, The Roots, Toki Wright, Shad, Pigeon John, P.O.S., and Blitz The Ambassador, are some that come immediately to mind. And there are plenty of women who represent hip hop, as both MCs and spoken word artists. Think Invincible, Jean Grae, Jessica Care Moore, Toni Blackman, Bless Roxwell, to name a few here.

So, what I think Ashley is guilty of is over-generalization. But the fact is that too much of hip hop does, in fact, denigrate women, be it through lyrics or videos. Recent examples such as Kanye’s Monster video or most of the work of recently celebrated teenagers Odd Future fall in this bucket. And Girl Talk samples what I think are some of the most vile examples of hip hop for his mashup albums.

What you end up with is work that creates an environment that devalues women. And it’s true: Rappers talk about women in the third person, as sexual objects or body parts, or women are seen gyrating half-naked in videos as a symbol of some dude’s material success. Call women bitches and hoes enough times over dope enough beats and an attitude gets normalized.

Hip hop is a global pop cultural phenomenon. It not only defines how a generation sees itself, but it also has become the shorthand for what’s cool around the world.

Rap’s Rape Culture: Ashley Judd Had a Point by James Braxton Peterson, from The Root: 

When Jay-Z signed Jay Electronica to Roc Nation label, it seemed like a triumph of underground hip-hop culture — the talented Jay Electronica, along with Jay-Z’s formidable business and promotional acumen, could change the game for the better. Instead, the rapper has elected to use some troubling language in his live performances, polling his audiences to inquire if women “like being choked during sexual intercourse.” Many feminist bloggers and activists challenged Jay Electronica directly.

For the survivors of violent sexual assault and for those of us who understand that sexual assault against women is a critical problem for all of us, this sort of thing is simply unacceptable. Maybe I am sensitized to this because my daughter just turned 10. But I’m also aware that even though individuals must be responsible for their own acts, too many are susceptible to subtle (and unsubtle) cues — from pop culture and the public sphere — that subject women to male dominance, and reaffirm the sexism and misogyny that lead to sexual violence against women.

That we, myself included, are always ready to defend hip-hop is a good thing — I think. Hip-hop cannot be the scapegoat for every talking head who is looking for an easy way to dismiss and degrade youth culture or black music. But rap and the industry that has developed through its popularity must be held accountable for its contributions to the world — and that includes any role that the industry might play in the construction and cultivation of rape culture in society. If you don’t want to hear it from Ashley Judd, then maybe you can hear it from me.

From Liquor&Spice:

Can I, a Black woman, talk about rape culture from my point of view, please? YES there’s a shit ton of rap and hip hop and r&b that is violent and degrading to me. It’s usually the shit that WHITE PEOPLE BUY THE MOST AND PUT ON THE RADIO AND SING ALONG TO IN THE CLUB! You know how many white girls yell at the top of their lungs to, “and when he get on, he leave your ass for a white girl!” It usually occurs after they violate my space and my body telling me to “shake that ass” and petting my hair like I’m a goddam dog. Can I talk about THAT part of rape culture please?!?!? The rape culture fueled by white chicks thinking they can take my identity to fuel their jungle bunny fantasies? Who think it’s awesome to smack my ass or comment on my body out loud to their friends?

And those songs suck! It sucks that they’re popular! It sucks that it validates how white people WERE ALREADY TREATING ME LIKE PROPERTY. LIKE THEY BEEN DOING FOR CENTURIES BEFORE RAP WAS INVENTED.

And it’s SO AWESOME how nice, white ladies find the time to tell me most of rap and hip hop are violent and rapey while not giving a fuck when I tell them SO ARE YOU! So are your white people books and movies and news and college curriculums and professors MEN AND WOMEN. All of them degrade my Black womanhood EVERY GODDAM DAY!

On Ashley Judd and the Politics of Citation by moyazb, from The Crunk Feminist Collective: 

Black women have been talking about (and back to) misogyny in hip-hop since it’s inception. Y’all remember Roxanne Shanté right?

It’s frustrating when all the work that black women have done to speak back to music that has particular, real world consequences in our lives is ommitted and unacknowledged. We’ve also done this talking back with an analysis of the systemic forces that make black men/rap music the scape goats for societal oppression of women. I know it’s a personal narrative, but can some hip-hop feminist foremothers get a shout out?

If we can all turn to the Ten Crunk Commandments for Re-Invigorating Hip Hop Feminist Studies, we’ll see that the first commandment reminds us to “know and cite” authors who have shaped the field of hip-hop feminism. This commandment doesn’t just apply to Judd but also to some of her defenders. If you are going to defend her position, can you cite the black women who have actually done work on the issue in scholarship, film, and action? The “she has a point” camp feels dismissive of decades of resistance and carefully crafted projects by hip-hop feminists and activists.

Leave your links!

Seriously? These Are the 40 Greatest Movie Posters?

Look, it’s not like I want to keep sending traffic to the Total Film site. Especially after they treated us to their list of the 100 Greatest Female Characters. But last Wednesday, they published another list of greatness, this one involving movie posters. Well, I love movie posters, and I understand that my Greatest Ever list won’t match Amber’s Greatest Ever list, or anyone else’s Greatest Ever list, and that one’s reaction to and appreciation of all forms of art is subjective and often deeply personal. So I’m not here to discuss whether these are, in fact, the 40 Greatest Movie Posters. I’m here to talk about how Total Film talks about the posters that feature women. (I’m using the word “feature” here loosely, as most of the posters that dare include a woman often objectify, obscure, and/or dismember her.) Feel free to look at their list of all 40 posters, but I’m including only the posters that “feature” women below.
  
I take it back. I am going to talk about the offensiveness of these shitty selections. Out of the nineteen posters above–and that’s nineteen out of Total Film’s forty that actually contain some semblance of a woman’s image–most either sexually objectify the woman or show her getting attacked. Or she’s dead or dismembered. I mean fuck, out of Total Film’s list of 40 Greatest Movie Posters, Bitch Flicks has previously criticized the posters of American Beauty, Choke, The Silence of the Lambs, and Secretary for showcasing dismembered women. That’s bad enough. But the way the Total Film writer, George Wales, talks about the women/characters in these posters is just … problematic at best. 
Jaws: “Nubile young swimmer versus hungry giant shark. We know who our money’s on …” Um, nubile? Really? 
Rosemary’s Baby: “They should stick one on the wall of every Boots. Sales of contraception would skyrocket!” Why even bother selling contraception anymore? Just force doctors to make every girl, immediately when she begins menstruating, sit in an an empty room alone with this poster. I’m sure we can get some legislation passed on that if we just casually mention it to a nearby Republican.
The Silence of the Lambs: “The presence of the moth over the girl’s mouth …” The girl’s mouth? She’s not five.
Pulp Fiction: “Uma Thurman practices her best come-to-bed expression …” Is that what she’s doing? Practicing? That’s a thing she sits around practicing? Like learning to play an instrument? 
Secretary: “Okay, so it’s more than a little pervy, but given the subject matter, that’s probably fairly appropriate. And there’s a wonderful symmetry to the image … oh who are we kidding?” I don’t even know what this means. What’s pervy? The poster? The film’s exploration of fetish and S & M? The writer of this article?
Hard Candy: “Every parent should mount one of these in their child’s bedroom to ward off sexual predators …” Look, George Wales. You can’t tell from the poster that this is a film about sexual predators. And even if you could, you’re basically implying that it’s the responsibility of the victim to ward off a potential attack. A child has no responsibility in warding off sexual predators, okay? A child abducted and abused by a sexual predator is a victim of kidnapping and sexual abuse. End. Of. Story.
Brick: “The more hard-boiled elements aren’t on display, but the amount of fragile beauty conjured up by a single wrist is most impressive.” Yeah, when I look at a dead woman’s hand floating in the water, I’m all, “OMG the gorgeous subtlety of a woman’s probable murder.” 
Being John Malkovich: “Cameron Diaz’s make-under is also on full display.” Because that’s important to note. 
Choke: “It certainly captures the off-kilter mood, although we must clarify that Sam Rockwell doesn’t actually eat any women in the film.” He doesn’t?!! What a misleading rip-off. Reminds me of the title of an article I just read at Total Film called, “The 40 Greatest Movie Posters.” 

Miniseries Preview: Mildred Pierce

Mildred Pierce, the new miniseries from HBO starring Kate Winslet, Evan Rachel Wood, and Guy Pearce, premieres Sunday, March 27th at 9pm. The miniseries is based on the novel by James M. Cain, with a hat-tip, I’m sure, to the 1945 film of the same name, which won Joan Crawford a Best Actress Academy Award for her performance in the title role. 
From the wikipedia plot summary (of the novel): 
Set in Glendale, California, in the 1930s, Mildred Pierce is the story of a middle-class housewife’s attempt to maintain her and her family’s social position during the Great Depression. Frustrated by her unemployed cheating husband, and worried by their dwindling finances, Mildred separates from him and sets out to support herself and her children on her own.

After a difficult search, she finally finds a job as a waitress, but she worries that it is beneath her middle-class station. Actually, Mildred worries more that her ambitious elder daughter, Veda, will think her new job is demeaning. Mildred encounters both success and tragedy, opening three successful restaurants and operating a pie-selling business, and coping with the death of her younger daughter, Ray. Veda enjoys Mildred’s newfound financial success, but increasingly turns ungrateful, demanding more and more from her hard-working mother and letting her contempt for people who must work for a living be known. Mildred’s attachment to Veda forms the central tragedy in the novel. 

The miniseries has been getting great reviews. Dan Callahan of Slant Magazine writes:
…Mildred Pierce is a triumph from beginning to end, and the casting in supporting roles couldn’t be bettered: Melissa Leo does her best Aline MacMahon as Mildred’s next-door neighbor Mrs. Gessler, while Mare Winningham seems to have sprung straight out of a 1930s diner as Ida (in the Crawford version, the sardonic Eve Arden played Ida like a valued secretary doing a bit of slumming in the restaurant trade). Haynes lets his female characters operate as they would have at the time in this milieu. He doesn’t do any modern editorializing on their plight and he doesn’t outright celebrate their resourcefulness; instead, he sets up a panorama of female struggle and solidarity and views it distantly, like somebody writing a history book and trying to keep personal opinions out of it.

And Dennis Lim of the New York Times discusses Todd Haynes’s affinity for “the woman’s picture”:
Asked recently about his longstanding attraction to the melodramatic form known as the woman’s picture–“the untouchable of film genres,” as the critic Molly Haskell once put it–the director Todd Haynes had a ready answer.

“Stories about women in houses are the real stories of our lives,” he said. “They really tell what all of us experience in one way or another because they’re stories of family and love and basic relationships and disappointments.”

Lim later writes: 

Framed as a whodunit–it opens with the killing of Mildred’s second husband, the rakish Monty Beragon–the original “Mildred Pierce” has long been a staple of feminist film theory, which generally views it as a conflicted genre hybrid that combines the masculine conventions of film noir and the feminine ones of melodrama.

I haven’t seen the Joan Crawford film or read the book, but I’m aware of the feminist and queer discussions of the first film. I’m excited that HBO has decided to turn this into a five-part miniseries, too, because I’m starting to wonder (especially after reading Total Film’s ridiculous list of the Greatest Female Characters) if television might offer more opportunity for complex women–and feminist–characters to shine. (I’ve been thinking about HBO shows in particular, like Big Love, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, and Deadwood, but Showtime certainly doesn’t shy away from strong women, with shows like Nurse Jackie and The United States of Tara, which both have season premieres on Monday, the 28th. I also wouldn’t rule out the latest season of Dexter–because it took on some serious feminist issues as well. But, alas, this is all for another long-ass blog post.) 
In the meantime, here’s to hoping Mildred Pierce doesn’t disappoint! 

Seriously? These Are the 100 Greatest Female Characters?

This past Monday, Total Film published its list of the 100 Greatest Female Characters. As everyone knows, these Best Ever lists tend to have the pretty obvious problem of not being able to include everyone and, therefore, not being able to please everyone. But we here at Bitch Flicks found this particular list more problematic than usual. For a variety of reasons. Before we discuss the WTF-FAIL of this, check out the list below and/or scroll through the photo-list at Total Film (especially if you’re interested in their use of sexist language and images).

100. Baby from Dirty Dancing, played by Jennifer Grey
99. Cherry Darling from Planet Terror, played by Rose McGowan
98. Vivian Ward from Pretty Woman, played by Julia Roberts
97. Samantha Baker from Sixteen Candles, played by Molly Ringwald
96. Stifler’s Mom from American Pie, played by Jennifer Coolidge
95. Layla from Buffalo ’66, played by Christina Ricci
94. Marquise de Merteuil from Dangerous Liaisons, played by Glenn Close
93. Karen Silkwood from Silkwood, played by Meryl Streep
92. Marnie Edgar from Marnie, played by Tippi Hedren
91. Briony Tallis from Atonement, played by Saoirse Ronan
90. Gertie from E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, played by Drew Barrymore
89. Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca, played by Judith Anderson
88. Jean Brodie from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, played by Maggie Smith
87. Malena Scordia from Malena, played by Monica Bellucci
86. Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors, voiced by Levi Stubbs
85. Gilda Mundson Farrell from Gilda, played by Rita Hayworth
84. Matty Walker from Body Heat, played by Kathleen Turner
83. Annie Savoy from Bull Durham, played by Susan Sarandon
82. Severine Serizy from Belle Du Jour, played by Catherine Deneuve
81. Gloria Swenson from Gloria, played by Gena Rowlands
80. Catherine Tramell from Basic Instinct, played by Sharon Stone
79. Phyllis Dietrichson from Double Indemnity, played by Barbara Stanwyck
78. Bess McNeill from Breaking the Waves, played by Emily Watson
77. Thelma Dickinson from Thelma and Louise, played by Geena Davis
76. Alabama Whitman from True Romance, played by Patricia Arquette
75. Coraline from Coraline, voiced by Dakota Fanning
74. Annie Porter from Speed, played by Sandra Bullock
73. Kate “Ma” Barker from Bloody Mama, played by Shelley Winters
72. Marge Gunderson from Fargo, played by Frances McDormand
71. Elisabet Vogler from Persona, played by Liv Ullmann
70. Sally Albright from When Harry Met Sally, played by Meg Ryan
69. Bonnie Parker from Bonnie and Clyde, played by Faye Dunaway
68. Ada McGrath from The Piano, played by Holly Hunter
67. Soshanna Dreyfus from Inglourious Basterds, played by Melanie Laurent
66. Alice Hyatt from Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, played by Ellen Burstyn
65. Lee Holloway from Secretary, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal
64. Barbarella from Barbarella, played by Jane Fonda
63. Annie Wilkes from Misery, played by Kathy Bates
62. Sylvia from La Dolce Vita, played by Anika Ekberg
61. Regan MacNeil from The Exorcist, played by Linda Blair
60. Mary Poppins from Mary Poppins, played by Julie Andrews
59. Mildred Pierce from Mildred Pierce, played by Joan Crawford
58. Margo Channing from All About Eve, played by Bette Davis
57. Adrian Pennino Balboa from Rocky, played by Talia Shire
56. Nikita from La Femme Nikita, played by Anne Parillaud
55. “Baby” Jane Hudson from Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, played by Bette Davis
54. Summer Finn from 500 Days of Summer, played by Zooey Deschanel
53. Judy Barton/Madeleine Elster from Vertigo, played by Kim Novak
52. Debby Marsh from The Big Heat, played by Gloria Grahame
51. Amelie from Amelie, played by Audrey Tautou
50. Jessie from Toy Story 2, voiced by Joan Cusack
49. Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, played by Louise Fletcher
48. Alex Forrest from Fatal Attraction, played by Glenn Close
47. Evelyn Mulwray from Chinatown, played by Faye Dunaway
46. Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire, played by Vivien Leigh
45. Paikea Apirana from Whale Rider, played by Keisha Castle-Hughes
44. Charlotte from Lost In Translation, played by Scarlett Johansen
43. Ofelia from Pan’s Labyrinth, played by Ivan Baquero
42. Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums, played by Gwyneth Paltrow
41. Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, played by Audrey Hepburn
40. Mindy “Hit Girl” Macready from Kick-Ass, played by Chloe Moretz
39. Chihiro Ogino from Spirited Away, voiced by Rumi Hiragi
38. Mia Williams from Fish Tank, played by Katie Jarvis
37. Jessica Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, voiced by Kathleen Turner
36. Older Daughter from Dogtooth, played by Aggeliki Papoulia
35. Ursa from Superman II, played by Sarah Douglas
34. Ann Darrow from King Kong, played by Fay Wray
33. Betty Elms/Diane Selwyn from Mulholland Dr., played by Naomi Watts
32. Scarlett O’Hara from Gone With the Wind, played by Vivien Leigh
31. Coffy from Coffy, played by Pam Grier
30. Kym from Rachel Getting Married, played by Anne Hathaway
29. Trinity from The Matrix, played by Carrie-Anne Moss
28. Lady from Lady and the Tramp, voiced by Barbara Luddy
27. Louise Sawyer from Thelma and Louise, played by Susan Sarandon
26. Nina Sayers from Black Swan, played by Natalie Portman
25. Enid from Ghost World, played by Thora Birch
24. Rosemary Woodhouse from Rosemary’s Baby, played by Mia Farrow
23. Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate, played by Anne Bancroft
22. Dory from Finding Nemo, voiced by Ellen Degeneres
21. Veronica Sawyer from Heathers, played by Winona Ryder
20. Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, played by Uma Thurman
19. Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs, played by Jodie Foster
18. Laurie Strode from Halloween, played by Jamie Lee Curtis
17. Carrie White from Carrie, played by Sissy Spacek
16. Bridget Gregory from The Last Seduction, played by Linda Fiorentino
15. Catwoman from Batman Returns, played by Michelle Pfeiffer
14. Matilda from The Professional, played by Natalie Portman
13. Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, played by Noomi Rapace
12. Jackie Brown from Jackie Brown, played by Pam Grier
11. Eli from Let the Right One In, played by Lina Leandersson
10. Sugar Kane Kowalczyk from Some Like It Hot, played by Marilyn Monroe
9. Hildy Johnson from His Girl Friday, played by Rosalind Russell
8. The Bride from Kill Bill, played by Uma Thurman
7. Hermione Granger from Harry Potter, played by Emma Watson
6. Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz, played by Judy Garland
5. Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars, played by Carrie Fisher
4. Clementine Kruczynski from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, played by Kate Winslet
3. Sarah Connor from The Terminator, played by Linda Hamilton
2. Annie Hall from Annie Hall, played by Diane Keaton
1. Ellen Ripley from Alien, played by Sigourney Weaver

Well. Let’s discuss the most ridiculous, WTF-FAIL elements of this list.
1. 7% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters are–wait for it–not human. We’ve got Audrey 2 the plant; Coraline the cartoon girl; Jessie the cartoon cowgirl; Chihiro Ogino the cartoon girl; Jessica Rabbit the (sexy) cartoon rabbit; Lady the dog; and Dory the fish. And only three of these seven Greatest Female Characters are even animated humans. The rest are animals. And one, the plant, is voiced by a man. 
2. Only 5% of the 100 Greatest Female Characters were directed by women, and that includes a co-director credit (Andy and Lana Wachowski) for The Matrix. The other woman-directed films include Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, Jane Campion’s The Piano, Niki Caro’s Whale Rider, and Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation. Maybe I shouldn’t be so appalled by this statistic, considering how difficult it is for women directors to get their films made in general. But seriously, 5%?
3. What’s up with all the children and teenagers on this list? Am I really supposed to believe that, in the history of film, 20% of the Greatest Female Characters were younger than twenty? I know ageism in Hollywood is bad, but that doesn’t mean amazing women characters over forty don’t exist. And I mean in addition to Stifler’s Mom (MILF!) from American Pie, who Total Film so graciously remembered to include. Just sayin,’ list compilers, if you were really hard-pressed, you could’ve checked to see if any women of color have ever acted in films.
4. Why is this list so fucking white? I’m not familiar with every movie or every movie character on the list, but I know I’m having a hard time finding nonwhite women. Pam Grier’s two blaxploitation characters, Jackie Brown and Coffy, jump out right away, and I’m fairly confident that’s not a good thing. Is Pam Grier the only black actress the Total Film list compilers are familiar with? Because, I mean, off the top of my head I’ve got: Whoopi Goldberg in The Color Purple, Queen Latifah in Chicago, Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls, Angela Bassett in What’s Love Got to Do With It?, Halle Berry in anything …
5. You know what’s also interesting about those characters I just listed? None of them is completely deranged (Mrs. Danvers, Annie Wilkes, Alex Forrest.)  Or a prostitute (Vivian Ward, Severine Serizy, Alabama Whitman.)  Or a Fighting Fuck Toy (Barbarella, Catwoman, Cherry Darling.) Or a seductress (Marquise de Merteuil, Matty Walker, Annie Savoy.) And I’m not even suggesting that prostitutes and deranged women and seductresses and fighting fuck toys (okay, maybe them) are all necessarily terrible characters. But many of these characters, and the films they inhabit, have been deemed antifeminist as fuck.  
Basically, compiling a slew of antifeminist characters from antifeminist films and putting them on a list called The 100 Greatest Female Characters–while ironic–is kind of unacceptable. I’ve only barely grazed the surface of this nonsense. If you want to see some really messed up statistics surrounding this list, check out The Double R Diner for a much more in-depth analysis, including a look at the many characters who are victims of violence and sexual assault. 

So, readers, what female characters would you include on a list of the 100 Greatest?

On Rape, the Media, and the ‘New York Times’ Clusterfuck

the-new-york-times1
On Tuesday, March 8, The New York Times published an article by James C. McKinley Jr. titled, “Vicious Assault Shakes Texas Town.” Eighteen men held down an 11-year-old girl and repeatedly raped her in an abandoned trailer while recording the rape with cell phones. Much has been written about McKinley’s—and the New York Times’—irresponsible, victim-blaming, rape culture-enforcing report of the rape.  Or should I say lack of report of the rape. While the entire article is a catastrophic joke, this paragraph warrants specific mention:
Residents in the neighborhood where the abandoned trailer stands—known as the Quarters—said the victim had been visiting various friends there for months. They said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.
Shakesville breaks down the story, and it’s a must-read piece. The writer points out, “Nowhere in this story is the following made clear: … that our compassion and care should be directed first and foremost toward the victim rather than the boys, the school, the community, or anyone else.”  The NYT piece is such an obvious case of victim-blaming, and terrifyingly unapologetic, that it wasn’t surprising to see an immediate petition go up at change.org, “Tell the New York Times to Apologize for Blaming a Child for Her Gang Rape.” The creator of the petition, Shelby Knox, writes, “1 in 4 American women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. A culture that blames victims for being raped—for what they were wearing, where they were, and who they were with—rather than blaming the rapist, is a culture that tacitly condones rape.” As of now 43,820 people have signed the petition, and Arthur S. Brisbane of the New York Times has issued an apology—not without its flaws—regarding the lack of balance in the piece.
*****
That apology should’ve felt good to read. But about an hour before it was issued, I’d posted the petition on my Facebook wall, urging friends to sign it. And this was one of the first responses:

Actually…no. I just read the “offending” comments of Mr. McKinley. The complaint is that he “gave ink” to the opinions of some idiots from Texas? He’s a reporter for Christ’s sake. He’s SUPPOSED to present all angles of the story. Looks like responsible journalism to me. Attack the idiots in Texas for this. Attack the wretched perpetrators. Why in the world is anyone mad at The New York Times for telling the whole story? If anything its GOOD that they reported on those folks as well. Its important for people to know that there are idiots like that everywhere. This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country. Let the public burning commence. I’ll be tied to the stake willingly. =)

Another person immediately agreed.  Thankfully, others jumped in to defend the petition, but I didn’t walk away from the thread feeling good about it. I felt defeated. Exhausted. Like I might burst into tears. So when the NYT finally got around to “apologizing” for publishing an article that never should’ve seen the light of day to begin with, I wanted to revel in the success of a group of people coming together to affect change. I couldn’t, though. And I started to think about why I couldn’t.
*****
The same day the New York Times published its story, the newspaper in my hometown published a report of another young girl’s rape, “Man accused of raping 12-year-old girl.” I read the opening paragraph: “A Middletown man has been charged with rape and intimidation of a witness after allegedly conducting a sexual relationship with a 12-year-old girl.” I read it again … “a sexual relationship” … “with a 12-year-old girl.”  I kept reading … “accused of having sex with a child younger than the age of 12” … “alleged abuse of the female juvenile.”What the hell? A child cannot consent to sex. Ever. Under any circumstance. So how does a man conduct a sexual relationship with her? How does a man have sex with her? And why does “the girl” suddenly become “the female juvenile”?  If I’d ever gone a moment without thinking about Rape Culture (and it’s hard to do), two newspaper articles published back to back—discussing the rapes of two girls as if one girl could consent to having sex with a man, while another could facilitate her own fucking gang rape—would make sure I spent a good few days and nights obsessing about the most recent media onslaught of violence against women.
*****
Three years ago, on March 28, 2008, Amber and I started Bitch Flicks. We respected blogs like Women and Hollywood that focus on women in film and explore how difficult it is for women to navigate the sexist terrain of Hollywood. And we wanted to be a part of that conversation, by looking closely at how popular films, television, music videos, movie posters, and other forms of media contribute to misogyny, violence against women, and unattainable beauty ideals. Because more than anything, we believe the blind and uncritical consumption of media portrayals of women contributes to furthering women’s inequality in all areas of life.

And we’ve noticed a few things here and there: rape being played for laughs in Observe and Report; the sexual trafficking of women used as a plot device in Taken; the constant dismemberment of women in movie posters; the damaging caricatures of women as sex objects in Black Snake Moan and The Social Network; and we’ve often pointed to discussions of sexism and misogyny around the net, like the sexual violence in Antichrist and, most recently, the sexualized corpses of women in Kanye West’s Monster video. It barely grazes the surface. I mean, it barely grazes the fucking surface of what a viewer sees during the commercial breaks of a 30-minute sitcom.

Yet, this constant, unchecked barrage of endless and obvious woman-hating undoubtedly contributes to the rape of women and girls.

The sudden idealization of Charlie Sheen as some bad boy to be envied, even though he has a violent history of beating up women, contributes to the rape of women and girls. Bills like H. R. 3 that seek to redefine rape and further the attack on women’s reproductive rights contributes to the rape of women and girls. Supposed liberal media personalities like Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann showing their support for Julian Assange by denigrating Assange’s alleged rape victims contributes to the rape of women and girls. The sexist commercials that advertisers pay millions of dollars to air on Super Bowl Sunday contribute to the rape of women and girls. And blaming Lara Logan for her gang rape by suggesting her attractiveness caused it, or the job was too dangerous for her, or she shouldn’t have been there in the first place, contributes to the rape of women and girls.

It contributes to rape because it normalizes violence against women. Men rape to control, to overpower, to humiliate, to reinforce the patriarchal structure. And the media, which is vastly controlled by men, participates in reproducing already existing prejudices and inequalities, rather than seeking to transform them.
And it pisses me off.
*****
“This is wildly misplaced rage here. Wasting time on things like this is why no real problems ever get solved in this damn country.” I decided to respond to that portion of my friend’s Facebook comment by quoting a passage from a piece on Shakesville called, “Feminism 101: ‘Feminists Look for Stuff to Get Mad About,'” in which Melissa McEwan makes the following argument:
 … in a very real way, ignoring “the little things” in favor of “the big stuff” makes the big stuff that much harder to eradicate, because it is the pervasive, ubiquitous, inescapable little things that create the foundation of a sexist culture on which the big stuff is dependent for its survival. It’s the little things, the constant drumbeat of inequality and objectification, that inure us to increasingly horrible acts and attitudes toward women.
People can argue that “the little things” are less important to point out than “the big things” all they want to. They can accuse feminists of misplaced anger, irrationality, man-hating, overreaction.  But the reality is that violence against women has become so commonplace in film and television, in advertising, in stand-up fucking “comedy,” in video games, that it’s the absolute default treatment of women in media, and we can’t pretend that doesn’t extend to how women are treated in the rest of society. It contributes to rape.  And it certainly contributes to a “liberal” newspaper’s inability to effectively report an 11-year-old girl’s gang rape without victim-blaming and slut-shaming, which, incidentally, also contributes to rape.
So. I gave myself a break. I let myself feel shitty and helpless for a minute. I’m over it now and ready to fight back. Stay tuned for our regularly scheduled programming …

Oscar Acceptance Speeches: Honoring Other Women

One of the things I’ve always loved and admired about the award acceptance speeches by women is how often they mention other women. Kate Winslet, accepting her Oscar for The Reader, joked, “I don’t think any of us can believe we’re in a category with Meryl Streep.” And Sandra Bullock, accepting her Oscar for The Blind Side, turned to each of her fellow nominees one by one and congratulated them. It’s something we rarely see from the men who win awards, and I admire that women openly acknowledge the necessity of sisterhood, especially during a male-dominated event (like any awards presentation for film, ever) that so often neglects the contributions of women. Here are a few of my favorites from the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress:


1992: Jodie Foster, winning Best Actress for The Silence of the Lambs

This has been such an incredible year. and I’d like to dedicate this award to all of the women who came before me who never had the chances that I’ve had, and the survivors and the pioneers and the outcasts; and my blood, my tradition. And I’d like to thank all of the people in this industry who have respected my choices and who have not been afraid of the power and the dignity that that entitled me to … And thank the Academy for embracing such an incredibly strong and beautiful feminist hero that I am so proud of.


1993: Emma Thompson, winning Best Actress for Howards End

And finally I would like, if I may, to dedicate this Oscar to the heroism and the courage of women, and to hope that it inspires the creation of more true screen heroines to represent them.





1997: Frances McDormand, winning Best Actress for Fargo

It is impossible to maintain one’s composure in this situation. What am I doing here? Especially considering the extraordinary group of women with whom I was nominated. We five women were fortunate to have the choice, not just the opportunity, but the choice, to play such rich, complex female characters. And I congratulate producers like Working Title and Polygram for allowing directors to make autonomous casting decisions based on qualifications and not just market value. And I encourage writers and directors to keep these really interesting female roles coming, and while you’re at it, you can throw in a few for the men as well.

2001: Julia Roberts, winning Best Actress for Erin Brockovich

I would like to start with telling you all how amazing the experience of feeling the sisterhood of being included in a group with Joan Allen and Juliette Binoche and Laura Linney and Ellen Burstyn for these last weeks has been. It’s just felt like such a triumph to me to be in that list. My name starts with “R” so I’m always last, but I still love the list.



2002: Halle Berry, winning Best Actress for Monster’s Ball

This moment is so much bigger than me. This moment is for Dorothy Dandridge, Lena Horne, Diahann Carroll. It’s for the women that stand beside me, Jada Pinkett, Angela Bassett, Vivica Fox. And it’s for every nameless, faceless woman of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened.  



2006: Reese Witherspoon, winning Best Actress for Walk the Line

A very special thank you to Jim Mangold who directed the film and also wrote this character who is a real woman who has dignity and honor and fear and courage. And she’s a real woman, and I really appreciate that. It was an incredible gift that you gave me, so thank you … And I want to say that my grandmother was one of the biggest inspirations in my life. She taught me how to be a real woman, to have strength and self-respect, and to never give those things away. 


2007: Helen Mirren, winning Best Actress for The Queen

Now, you know for fifty years and more Elizabeth Windsor has maintained her dignity, her sense of duty, and her hairstyle. She’s had her feet planted firmly on the ground, her hat on her head, her handbag on her arm, and she’s weathered many, many storms. And I salute her courage and her consistency, and I thank her, because if it wasn’t for her, I most, most certainly would not be here.


2010: Sandra Bullock, winning Best Actress for The Blind Side(read our review)

I would like to thank the Academy for allowing me in the last month to have the most incredible ride, with rooms full of artists that I see tonight and that I’ve worked with before and I hope to work with in the future, who inspire me and blaze trails for us. Four of them, that I’ve fallen deeply in love with, I share this night with and I share this award with. Gabby, I love you so much. You are exquisite. You are beyond words to me. Carey, your grace and your elegance and your beauty and your talent makes me sick. Helen, I feel like we are family, and I don’t have the words to express what I think of you. And Meryl, you know what I think of you, and you are such a good kisser … 

But there’s so many people to thank, not enough time. So I would like to thank what this film was about for me, which are the moms that take care of the babies and the children no matter where they come from. Those moms and parents never get thanked. I, in particular, failed to thank one. So, if I can take this moment to thank Helga B. for not letting me ride in cars with boys till I was eighteen, ’cause she was right; I would’ve done what she said I was gonna do. For making me practice every day when I got home, piano, ballet, whatever it is I wanted to be. She said to be an artist you had to practice every day. And for reminding her daughters that there’s no race, no religion, no class system, no color, nothing, no sexual orientation, that makes us better than anyone else. We are all deserving of love. 

So, to that trailblazer who allowed me to have that, and this [referring to the Oscar], and this, I thank you so much for this opportunity that I share with these extraordinary women, and my lover Meryl Streep. Thank you.

2010: Mo’Nique, winning Best Supporting Actress for Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (read our review)

First, I would like to thank the Academy for showing that it can be about the performance and not the politics. I want to thank Miss Hattie McDaniel for enduring all that she had to so that I wouldn’t have to.

2011 Post-Oscar Response

Might as well dive right in! Here is the list (short version) of the winners:

Best Picture: The King’s Speech

Best Actor: Colin Firth in The King’s Speech

Best Supporting Actor: Christian Bale in The Fighter

Best Actress: Natalie Portman in Black Swan

Best Supporting Actress: Melissa Leo in The Fighter

Best Animated Feature Film: Toy Story 3

Best Director: Tom Hooper for The King’s Speech

Best Documentary Feature: Inside Job

Best Documentary Short: Strangers No More

Best Foreign Language Film: In a Better World

Best Adapted Screenplay: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network

Best Original Screenplay: David Seidler for The King’s Speech

Well. As we said earlier in the week:
“the Academy Awards are the most visible celebration of filmmaking in the United States–and possibly the world. Yet–and despite the misnomer of ‘liberal Hollywood’–they continue to exhibit cultural values and norms that are conservative and simply unacceptable. Women are typically rewarded for playing roles that support a central male character in films. People of color are rarely nominated for–and even more rarely win–major awards. This year (as in most years), all Best Director nominees are white men. (Only one woman has EVER won this category.) The Best Picture nominees are about white people (or white cartoon characters), and are lauded by mostly white male critics. Even in a movie about lesbians, a man takes center stage. We could go on, but you get the idea.”

So now that the 2011 Academy Awards have aired, what did you think? I love the discussions that’ve been happening leading up to the Oscars, and I’ll highlight a few of the ones I found particularly enlightening. For starters, the Feminist Frequency video below is an absolute must-watch:  

In our Best Picture Nominee Review Series, we (with the help of our Guest Writers) showed that most of the films were about men, with the exception of Winter’s Bone, Black Swan, and The Kids Are All Right–with the latter two still exhibiting some major problems with their portrayals of women. We also showcased Ten Years of Oscar-Winning Films (in posters), which further illustrated the accolades presented to male-dominated films.
Add The King’s Speech to the ever-growing list.
For those of you who watched the 2011 Academy Awards, you heard Steven Spielberg list several Great Films that had previously won Oscars for Best Picture. He then listed several more Great Films that were nominated for Best Picture Oscars but hadn’t won. His lists included the following films: On the Waterfront, Midnight Cowboy, The Godfather, The Deer Hunter, The Grapes of Wrath, Citizen Kane, The Graduate, and Raging Bull. What do they have in common? They’re all movies about Heterosexual White Men. So I ask, what would’ve been wrong with including some of these films in the list: Rebecca, The Sound of Music, Kramer vs Kramer, Terms of Endearment, or Driving Miss Daisy … ? At this point, I’m honestly starting to wonder if The Academy gives a flying fuck at all about people who aren’t Heterosexual White Men; they sure as hell have no interest in pretending they do.
The following Oscar analyses deepen the discussion.
“Talking About the 2011 Oscars” from The Funny Feminist:
It would appear that expanding the Best Picture category to include ten films instead of five has resulted in more recognition for movies about women.

It hasn’t, though, seemed to improve the field for other marginalized groups, because, as Shakesville pointed out, not a single person of color was nominated in the acting categories.  I guess no people of color acted in any movies last year!  Or else, the Academy filled their quota last year by giving nominations to Gabourey Sidibe and Mo’Nique and don’t feel the need to recognize any other people of color.  Excuse me while I go roll my eyes.

The Academy also filled their quota of female directors last year.  In 82 years of the Academy Awards, they finally recognized a female director (Kathryn Bigelow) and awarded her for her work on The Hurt Locker. I guess no women made movies this year, because the Best Director category is all male.

“Oscar was a Dude: America’s Celebration of Men” from The Sociological Cinema:

Hollywood didn’t invent patriarchy, but that doesn’t preclude it from being implicated in reproducing it. The cultural critic, Stuart Hall, once observed that the people who work in creating media stand in a different relationship to ideology than the rest of us. That is to say, those who produce, direct, and act in films have at their disposal a powerful tool, which can be used to transform how people come to understand the world in which they live. Movies–especially the ones the Academy deems worthy of its coveted Oscar–pose answers to questions many people never asked, such as, “whose story is likely to matter most?” or just, “who matters?” As evidenced from the list of nominated films this year, those who were hoping for a revolution in the kinds of stories Hollywood tells may be disappointed. For now, a critical awareness of the men and masculinity America is (also) celebrating on Sunday may have to suffice.

Thoughts? Concerns? What the hell?

Best Picture Nominee Review Series: 127 Hours

 
I didn’t go into 127 Hours expecting to see any women in the film.  After all, it’s about a man who goes out for a day of canyoneering fun, doesn’t tell anyone where he’s going, bikes through some amazing scenery while occasionally performing random, impressive athletic moves for no reason, decides to do some hiking, and ultimately falls off (and into) a cliff-type structure that becomes a trap. Basically, he smashes his right arm between a giant rock and the wall of a canyon. And gets stuck. I mean stuck.
We know what’s in store for us–at least an hour of watching this guy attempt to get the hell out of there (and, as it turns out in the end, by any means necessary). I immediately caught myself thinking, “Where can the filmmakers possibly go with this? You mean I’m going to have to sit here and watch this d-bag James Franco chip away at a boulder with a dull knife for an hour? While he makes jokes about his shitty Made-in-China adventure-equipment and urges us to Buy American?” Well, yes. And no. While the film certainly has its problems, especially in its presentation of women (and there are only, like, two, so it’s disheartening that they manage to still fuck that up), dare I say I walked away kind of loving it? With a renewed respect for James Franco?
Ha. Well. First, let’s talk about Danny Boyle. I had the same problems with Slumdog Millionaire that every film-goer with a set of critical thinking skills had. So walking into 127 Hours, I was already all “meh.” But damn did he manage to make some bike riding exciting.  Seriously. After ten minutes of watching Franco pedal across the horizon accompanied by A. R. Rahman’s soundtrack of tribal drums with violin and brass combo beats, I wanted to leave the theater and go buy a mountain bike.  That feeling lasted all the way up until the first two women were introduced three seconds later.  
They’re lost.  And they need Franco to help them navigate the terrain.  He does.  Franco hangs with them for a while and they do some canyon-climbing and they record themselves swimming and they splash around and they flirt a little bit and it’s actually pretty fun to watch.  This scene, which doesn’t seem like it has much of a point at first, becomes essential, especially considering it’s one of only a handful of real-time scenes that exists outside of his entrapment.  We get to know him here, and the truth is, it’s difficult not to fall in love with him.  He plays Ralston as a full-of-life, thrill-seeking sweetheart who’s hellbent on having as much fun as possible before the day ends. So when he and the women part ways, and his new friends invite him to a party later, it’s impossible not to experience a little unease.  We like him now.  And we know there’s no fucking way he’s making it to that party.

The rest of the movie takes place in the canyon–a claustrophobic nightmare that only works because Franco is apparently an amazing actor–and inside Franco’s mind, through flashbacks of his super hot  (gasp) blond ex-girlfriend and the phone calls from his mom and sister that he clearly stupidly ignored prior to his departure.  He also hallucinates some crazy shit, like a giant Scooby-Doo blowup doll that’s soundtracked to that ghoulish laughter reminiscent of the last few seconds of Thriller.  Yeah!  And though it sounds absolutely insane, it’s why the film works.  Boyle takes a narrative about a guy struggling to get out of a hole and turns it into an action film, a radio show, a documentary, a commercial, a disaster movie, a cartoon, and a comedy.  About a guy struggling to get out of a hole.

Not that there aren’t a few impossible-to-deal-with moments. The final scene, which is poignant enough on its own, insists on beating the audience over the head with its call to EXPERIENCE EMOTION, courtesy of this ridiculous Dido & A.R. Rahman song. And I still can’t quite figure out how the closeup shots of ice-encased Gatorade and Mountain Dew add anything more than advertising revenue, as much as I’d like to argue that, “If I were trapped in a cave, about to die, drinking my own urine, toying with the idea of amputating a limb, I’d totally hallucinate all these brand-name beverages from Pepsico.”

And yes, god, seriously, The Women.  I know this is a movie about Ralston’s journey.  I respect that and enjoyed watching the innovative ways Boyle used split screens, reverse zooms, fantastical elements, warped focus, and speed variations to tell Ralston’s story in a way I can’t imagine another director successfully telling it.  That doesn’t mean I could ignore my own cringing every time a woman entered the frame.  The ex-girlfriend clearly serves as a vehicle to show Ralston’s loner-ness; see, he pushed her away all cliche-like. We know this because she says Very Important Things to him. “You’re going to be so lonely,” she yells, after he silently (but with his eyes!) asks her to leave a sporting event they’re attending.  (I want to say hockey?)

His hallucinations suck, too.  His sister shows up in a wedding dress.  His sister showing up in a wedding dress clearly serves as a vehicle to make us feel bad that he’ll be missing Very Important Life Events if he dies, like his sister’s wedding.  More pointlessly, the hallucinated sister, who might have one speaking line if I’m being generous, is played by Lizzy Caplan, an actress who’s had large roles in True Blood, Party Down, Hot Tub Time Machine, Cloverfield, and Mean Girls.  Instead of engaging with the film, I found myself taken completely out of it, as I wondered why they would cast an actress who’s clearly got more skills than standing in a wedding dress, looking sullen and disappointed, to stand in a wedding dress looking sullen and disappointed.

So, the first two women (the lost ones) show Ralston’s carefree coolness.  The ex-girlfriend illustrates Ralston’s darkness and his need for independence–as do the voicemails he ignores from his mother and sister, which are played in flashback.  His sister reminds the audience that Ralston has Things to Live For.  Hell, Ralston even tries to console his mother in advance (when he records his deathbed goodbye with his video cam) by saying things like, “Don’t feel bad about buying me such cheap, crappy mountain climbing equipment Mom … I mean, how were you supposed to know this would happen!”  Hehe.  What? Apparently it’s easier to use every possible cliche ever of how men and women interact (as a way to reveal information about the hero’s personality and psyche) than it is to, I don’t know, show him interacting with some guys? Have him flashback-interact with Dad? Nope, we get Lost Women in Need, Wedding Dresses, and Mommy Blaming.  And I haven’t even gotten to the masturbation scene yet.

[This is your Spoiler Alert.]

I struggled with the masturbation scene.  Because it’s a failed masturbation scene.  I mean, it’s a scene where masturbation is attempted unsuccessfully. I didn’t like that he took out his video camera and freeze-framed and zoomed in on a woman’s breasts from earlier–as far as I’m concerned, there’s no other way to look at that than as classic Objectification (and dismemberment) of Women.  (Also, the audience laughed, and I was taken out of the film yet again.) But at the same time … whoa. Ralston knows he’s about to die.  He’s out of water.  He’s got no hope of being rescued. Ultimately, masturbation for him is an act of desperation, the desire to feel something that his body has already let go of.  Yes–it’s powerful stuff. Watching Ralston’s body betray him shows his imminent physical death.

But it felt too much like The Ultimate Betrayal.  As much as I sympathized with Ralston–and Franco is brilliant in this scene–I don’t want to let the film off the hook entirely.  I mean, what’s with men and their dicks?  If I’m trapped down there, I’m thinking, “A little less masturbation, a little more amputation.” Honestly. The scene played too much like a metaphor for his final loss of power (read: masculinity), as impotence usually does on-screen.  In that moment, I no longer identified with the film’s initial overarching theme of hope and possible redemption; I just thought, “Oh man, he can’t get  it up it. SNAP.”  I guess I’m just wondering if the film really needed to go there …

So, aside from the women “characters” being cliched, pointless, slightly offensive insertions used  only to further our understanding of Ralston, 127 Hours is a fabulous film.  I’m not even being sarcastic. I’ve never been much of a Franco fan–I mean, apparently he’s teaching a class about himself now?–but this performance is a game-changer for James and me.  Boyle certainly showed his directing chops, too; this movie goes places a viewer would never expect–in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.  I cried. I eye-rolled. I looked away (often). And I laughed.  Especially at the end of the film, when the woman behind me said, “Wait.  You  mean that shit was a true story?!”

Athena Film Festival Mini-Review: Poster Girl

 
Poster Girl synopsis:  
Poster Girl is the story of Robynn Murray, an all-American high school cheerleader turned “poster girl” for women in combat, distinguished by Army Magazine’s cover shot. Now home from Iraq, her tough-as-nails exterior begins to crack, leaving Robynn struggling with the debilitation effects of PTSD and the challenges of rebuilding her life. Directed by Sara Nesson.

Amber’s Take:
Poster Girl was, without a doubt, my favorite film at the Athena Film Festival. It’s no surprise that the film is nominated for an Academy Award for Best Documentary – Short Subject, even though this was a first effort at filmmaking from director Sara Nesson.

Robynn Murray’s trauma was palpable. Her anxiety came through in her near-constant breathlessness, emotional breakdowns, and outbursts of anger. Although she had enrolled in the division of the army sent in after combat missions–to rebuild and ‘win hearts and minds’–she was sent directly into combat. Although women are officially forbidden to participate in combat in the US military, most people will acknowledge that the distinction between combat and non-combat roles is archaic and even non-existent in 21st century war zones. That Murray was assigned a gunner position atop a tank (the most dangerous, exposed position) on the second day of her tour of duty in Iraq shouldn’t surprise the realists among us, but is nevertheless shocking when told from a raw, personal perspective.

Rooting for this film (and, in turn, rooting for its star and director) is enough to make me excited for next weekend’s Oscar ceremony.

Stephanie’s Take:

Watching Poster Girl was by far the highlight of my experience at the Athena Film Festival. Not only is it a convincing portrayal of the serious effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, but it’s a subtle anti-war film, one that illustrates the often disastrous consequences of repeated exposure to death and violence–and not just for women in combat. Nesson gets moving footage of several former soldiers, including Robynn, who create art from their uniforms, and the soldiers all emphasize the healing power of that process. (I personally loved watching each of them rip their uniforms to shreds.)

Nesson also juxtaposes photos of Robynn prior to her Army experience–where she’s in a cheerleading uniform, smiling and having fun with friends–with the post-Army Robynn, a tattooed, pierced, PTSD victim who stares at the former photos as if they couldn’t possibly be her. And they aren’t anymore. The new Robynn is an activist who speaks out against war and gun violence, even while dealing with debilitating panic attacks.

The film shows just how screwed up our system is for soldiers returning from service:  it’s heartbreaking to watch Robynn practically beg for the disability checks the government owes her, as well as witness the lengths she has to go to to “prove” that she’s disabled. But even after all this, Poster Girl somehow ends on a hopeful note, with a smile from Robynn that we hadn’t seen since before she entered the Army.

Watch the preview: