Tag: Sundance

‘The Wolfpack’ Brothers Walk the Red Carpet at the Tribeca Film Festival

Six brothers spent their lives cloistered inside a messy Lower East Side tenement in Manhattan where only their father had the key. Only once or twice a year were they allowed outside their claustrophobic apartment, subsidized by welfare checks their mother received from home schooling them. They spent the day watching movies. This went on for years and years. This is not the subject of some horror film. It’s a stranger-than-fiction story that is the subject of documentary, ‘The Wolfpack.’

Wolfpack director Crystal Moselle
The Wolfpack director Crystal Moselle

 

This is a guest post by Paula Schwartz.

Six brothers spent their lives cloistered inside a messy Lower East Side tenement in Manhattan where only their father had the key. Only once or twice a year were they allowed outside their claustrophobic apartment, subsidized by welfare checks their mother received from home schooling them. They spent the day watching movies. This went on for years and years. This is not the subject of some horror film. It’s a stranger-than-fiction story that is the subject of documentary, The Wolfpack.

Directed by Crystal Moselle, the documentary created a stir at Sundance where it premiered, where the brothers turned up for the screening but spoke very little with the press.

Last weekend, The Wolfpack made its New York premiere at the TriBeCa Film festival at the SVA Theater on 23d Street, not so far from where the boys spent almost all their lives inside the closed walls of their claustrophobic and unkempt apartment.

Five of six Angulo brothers
Five of six Angulo brothers

 

Everything that the six boys – whose surname is Angulo – knew of the world they gleaned from movies. Quentin Tarantino’s movies were favorites, along with those of Martin Scorsese, Christopher Nolan, and David Lynch. The boys – Govinda, Bhagavan, Narayana, Krisna, Jagadesh, Mukunda – spent their time watching movies and then reenacting scenes wearing costumes they created out of thrift shop clothes they retooled to resemble that of their characters.

One of the brothers described their existence as living in a prison. One sibling said they lived inside their minds.

As they got older, once or twice a year the siblings would walk in the streets. It was on one of their rare expeditions that Moselle found them. The production notes from the film said it was like “discovering a long lost tribe.” They were a vision in their waist-length hair and Pulp Fiction-inspired wardrobe, which featured a badly fitting dark suit, white shirt, and sunglasses. Over five years, Moselle gained their trust and recorded their story. She is still very protective of them.

On the red carpet, I asked the director if the boy’s father, Oscar, a Peruvian immigrant, who in the film was often drunk and ranted incoherently, had emotionally abused his sons. She replied tersely, “I’m not going to answer those questions.”

Moselle described her relationship with the brothers as sisterly, so they felt comfortable around her. (Their actual sister, to whom they are very close, is mentally disabled.)

“I watched them grow up,” Moselle told me. “There’s an incredible transformation that they went through so it was a beautiful thing to see this great transformation, and then now they’re making films in the world and socializing and happy people.”

Neither of the boys’ parents, including their mother Susanne, who seems as controlled as her sons in the film, appeared on the red carpet.

I spoke to Govinda, who is the second oldest and has a twin, what life is like now. “Life now is busy. It’s taken off cause this has pushed us to just start relationships with people, and in the filmmaking world it’s all about relationships,” he said like a pro.

Angulo brothers
Angulo brothers

 

“Offers are flowing in,” said the charismatic, handsome 22-year-old. “We’re starting our own production company, Wolfpack Productions. We’re working as assistants on sets, so there’s a lot happening for us. It’s opened up a lot of doors.”

The brothers still play out scenes from their movie scenes. “We’ll always do that,” Govinda smiled. “That’s the heart for us, so we’ll takes these movies with us wherever we go.”

They are still stunned by the Sundance success. “What could be more surprising and stupendous than that, the Oscars?” I asked. “You never know,” Govinda told me.

This red carpet stuff is something they’ve dreamed about since they were kids sitting on dirty mattresses watching movies, Govinda said. “This is something that we always dreamt about when we were 12 year olds and we’d turn on the TV and watch people on the red carpet and be like, ‘I want to do that some day! I want to be in front of those cameras some day and be on the red carpet!’”

The boys wore their signature outfits. “We actually thrift shop buy everything,” he told me. “We search around all New York City; we go to all the different stores and then we reference clothes from movies and this is like our Reservoir Dogs look.”

Soon, designers will be calling them and asking them to wear their suits, I told them. “That started already,” Govinda noted. They already have a fashion spread in the works. “We’re doing stuff with big magazines, so there’s a lot of talk in the works.”

Maybe because of years of being shut off from the outside world, the brothers’ speech is still a little off kilter, and Govinda speaks slowly and chooses his words carefully. I asked him how his parents were doing with all the media attention.

“They’re doing well. Dad’s more – he’s not a big public eye guy so he doesn’t like being in front of the camera and everything. You know how he was in the documentary, but mom is all for it.”

How did his Dad feel about the way he was portrayed?  “We got a bunch of comments from people saying I wish I could do that to my children, in a joking kind of way,” Govinda laughed. “But my Dad, he loved the movie. The movie was an honest portrayal.”

 

Paula Schwartz is a veteran journalist who worked at the New York Times for three decades. For five years she was the Baguette for the New York Times movie awards blog Carpetbaggers. Before that she worked on the New York Times night life column, Boldface, where she covered the celebrity beat. She endured a poke in the ribs by Elijah Wood’s publicist, was ejected from a party by Michael Douglas’s flak after he didn’t appreciate what she wrote, and endured numerous other indignities to get a story. More happily she interviewed major actors and directors–all of whom were good company and extremely kind–including Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Morgan Freeman, Clint Eastwood, Christopher Plummer, Dustin Hoffman and the hammy pooch “Uggie” from “The Artist.” Her idea of heaven is watching at least three movies in a row with an appreciative audience that’s not texting. Her work has appeared in Moviemaker, more.com, showbiz411 and reelifewithjane.com.

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Athena Film Festival: Jodie Foster Reflects on Need for Female Directors by Hilary Lewis at The Hollywood Reporter

Festival Encourages Women in Film to ‘Wear the Pants’ by Stuart Miller at The Wall Street Journal

Interview: ‘Girlhood’ Director Celine Sciamma on Race, Gender & the Universality of the Story by Zeba Blay at Shadow and Act

5 Fabulous Feminist Films from Sundance by Natalie Wilson at Ms. blog

“Fresh Off the Boat,” Margaret Cho & the Asian American TV Family by Amy Lam at Bitch Media

HBO Gives Greenlight to Issa Rae Comedy ‘Insecure’ by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Film Independent Directors Close-Ups: Ava DuVernay by Jana Monji at RogerEbert.com

The Psychology of Inspirational Women: The Walking Dead’s Michonne And Carol by Dr. Janina Scarlet at The Mary Sue

That Time Sleater-Kinney Hung Out With “Broad City.” by Sarah Mirk at Bitch Media

100 Years Later, What’s The Legacy Of ‘Birth Of A Nation’? at NPR

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Diversity Wins Big at SAG Awards by Anita Little at Ms. blog

With shows like ‘Empire,’ ‘Black-ish’ and ‘Cristela,’ TV is more diverse than ever by Cecilia King at The Washington Post

‘Ghostbusters’ Reboot Sets All-Female Cast, Release Date by Daniel Kreps at Rolling Stone

Let’s Not Stop at Ghostbusters—Let’s Remake ALL Movies with Just Women by Lindy West at GQ

On Wealth and Women on TV by Sady Doyle at The Baffler

Iranian-American Filmmaker Breaks Out Of Boxes, Into The Box Office by Shereen Marisol Meraji at NPR

How the Media Exacerbates and Erases Black Women’s Suffering by Jenn M. Jackson at For Harriet

Lisa Kudrow’s “The Comeback” Shows How the Television Industry Hasn’t Changed by Hannah Steinkop at Bitch Media
Hooray for “The Fosters,” the Show About a Dynamic Family With Two Moms. by Riel Lise at Bitch Media
The best films we saw at Sundance by Claudia Puig at USA TODAY 

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A Woman Directed the Scariest Horror Movie of the Year, Maybe of the Decade by Laura Parker at The Cut

Amy Berg Partnering With Nate Parker for Doc About the “Black Male Crisis” by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Chris Rock Pens Blistering Essay on Hollywood’s Race Problem: “It’s a White Industry” at The Hollywood Reporter

5 Shows That Wouldn’t Be The Same If They Showed The Reality Of Pregnancy Discrimination by NARAL Pro-Choice America at BuzzFeed

Chicago’s Black Cinema House Hosts Rare Screening of Shirley Clarke’s Neo-Realist Film ‘The Cool World’ by Sergio at Shadow and Act

Shonda Rhimes to Be Inducted into National Association of Broadcasters Broadcasting Hall of Fame by Tambay A. Obenson at Shadow and Act

36% of 2015 Sundance Competition Films Directed by Women by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

“Jane the Virgin” Has a Surprisingly Progressive Take on Sex. by Hannah Steinkop at Bitch Media

 

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‘Wetlands’: Vile Beauty, with Schnitzel

This visual powerhouse contains many explicit scenes depicting bodily functions and some of the more interesting aspects of human sexuality. But don’t be fooled, ‘Wetlands’ excels at using shocking imagery to break down walls and build our connection to the characters. The result is distinctly warm and expressive take on the female coming-of-age story.

U.S. release poster.
U.S. release poster.
Written by Andé Morgan.
Wetlands (2013) is the “most WTF, NSFW movie,” or at least that’s what its promotional materials can’t wait to tell you. So you might be forgiven for expecting a one-note gross-out film with copious amounts of Euronudity, and you would be (sort of) right. Explicit unsanitary behavior is the film’s party piece, but it’s much more than that. It’s the best kind of gimmick: the kind that works.
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Wetlands was written and directed by German auteur David Wnendt (Combat Girls, 2011). It was adapted from the 2008 book of the same name by Charlotte Roche (actually, Feuchtgebiete, if we’re going to keep it real Deutsch). The novel was a well-received bestseller, though some critics have described it (often while clutching their pearls) as erotic fiction or pornography.
The film was originally released at the Locarno Film Festival in 2013, and was shown at Sundance in 2014. It’s currently in limited release in the United States through October. The story follows Helen Memel (Carla Juri), a young woman with an almost pathological obsession with filth, as she hits common Bildungsroman beats, e.g., sex, friendship, rebellion, divorced parents, and family secrets.
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The films opens with Helen skateboarding barefoot down a grey street in a generic German city. She stops to apply hemorrhoid cream in what may be the filthiest abandoned subway restroom ever. Helen’s voiceover details her long suffering with the affliction, and we’re also told that her mother always says good hygiene Down There (in the wetlands, get it?) is important because a “pussy is dirtier than a penis.” Helen shows us her own feelings about hygiene by grinding her vulva in a circular motion around the dirty toilet seat.
This opening sequence also establishes three overarching elements:
1. Helen represents the antithesis of the modern western woman and her pedantic attention to personal hygiene fostered by years of exposure to patriarchal cultural norms and manipulative advertising.
2. The restroom is flooded, covered in two inches of chocolate-brown water filled with cigarette butts and other refuse. As she sits on the toilet, we see Helen’s bare feet firmly planted in the water. Her acts and the filthy water seem like part of a perverse baptism, one that rejects the symbolic purification and rebirth associated with traditional Christian baptism. Later, critical moments often involve Helen’s or someone else’s immersion in water in line with the more conventional symbology, culminating with Helen’s inundation in the final scene.
3. This film is pretty. For example, midway through the sequence we get a beautiful, slick opening credits animation that will ensure that you never think about pubic hair and pee stains in the same way. It also sets the precedent for the look of the rest of the film: simultaneously cozy and disorienting, with the commercial refinement of a car advertisement (BMW or Mercedes, of course).
The action quickly shifts to Helen’s hospital room (these scenes may have been filmed in the local IKEA’s nurse’s station). She’s recovering from surgery done to remove an anal fissure gained while she was shaving her anus. By this point, we’ve heard Helen expound favorably on men’s preferred vaginal discharge texture (cottage cheese, in her experience), so her desire to be completely clean shaven seems discordant. Through flashbacks, we learn her motivation for this act. We’re then introduced to her best friend and neighbor, Corinna (Marlen Kruse), who has recently been alienated at her high school due to her willingness to indulge her former boyfriend’s coprophilia. Helen instructs Corinna to dab some of her own vaginal secretions behind her ears to attract the attention of their mutual acquaintance and dealer, Toni (Ludger Bökelmann).
We also meet Helen’s divorced parents, played by Meret Becker and Axel Milberg. Quite unlike Helen, Becker’s character is tidy to a fault. She also suffers from depression and personality disorder, and once cut off 8-year-old Helen’s eyelashes to teach her a lesson about vanity. Milberg’s character is oblivious to the pain he causes his family by his self-centered nature. In another childhood flashback his inattentive and ineffective application of sunscreen to 8-year-old Helen’s back results in a severe sunburn. Another scene shows a young Helen delighted to be allowed to suck on her father’s used avocado pit, saying that it was “almost like they’d kissed.” This exemplifies her desperate desire for acknowledgment by her father. Present-day Helen’s only non-sex-and-drugs hobby is tending several avocado pits suspended in plastics water cups, a group she calls her “family.”
The balance of the story concerns Helen’s use of her hospital stay as the linchpin of a guileless scheme to get her parents to reconcile and remarry. She also courts Robin (Christoph Letkowski), the male nurse assigned to monitor her recovery. By court, I mean she alternates between crying out for relief from her loneliness and attempting to seduce Robin with faux Cool Girl grossness.
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Helen’s relationship with her mother doesn’t progress very far, but it is eventually implied that a family secret involving her mother may be the root cause of Helen’s self-destructive behavior. More dynamic is Helen and Corinna’s friendship. We see them share drugs, a bath, and, later, their used tampons. After swapping cotton, Helen runs her bloody fingers over Corinna’s face and deems her “blood sister.” Corinna reciprocates. What this scene lacks in subtlety it makes up for in impact.
While the first two acts imply otherwise, in the final act we learn that Helen is actually much more dependent on Corinna than vice versa. When she discovers that Corinna is pregnant by Toni, Helen, driven by her fear of loneliness, lashes out at her friend and contemplates suicide. Helen has recently been sterilized by choice because she refuses to perpetuate the mental illness that afflicts the women in her maternal lineage.
Helen’s graphic disregard for hygiene as a symbol of her rejection of conventional gender and familial norms does begin to feel a bit gimmicky towards the end of the film, but it is also very effective at relaying the impact of her mother’s illness and her parent’s divorce on her development. Some other symbolic imagery, like the surreal scene of an avocado plant growing from pit to several feet high from Helen’s vagina, is similarly heavy handed.
Other commentary on the plight of women include the male medical staffs’ casual disregard for Helen’s autonomy or ability to assess her own health. Following the surgery, Dr. Notz (Edgar Selge), laughs off Helen’s concerns about malpractice by saying “girls her age are prone to hysteria.” Later, a scene involving four men, a pizza, and some Olympics-level synchronized ejaculation evokes conventional concerns about the dehumanizing effects of pornography and subsequent propagation of rape culture by male viewers.
To his credit, Wnendt is largely successful in avoiding employment of the male gaze. The camera rarely lingers on Helen’s body during scenes with incidental nudity. Sex scenes depict both male and female nudity with either cozy familiarity or clinical coldness. So, while it is certainly explicit, and may be erotic, Wetlands is hardly pornographic.
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Don’t be fooled by reviews that focus on the bodily fluids and sex — Wetlands excels at using shocking imagery to break down walls and build our connection to the characters. The result is singular, warm take on the female coming-of-age story for the whole (very modern) family.

Andé Morgan lives in Tucson, Arizona, where they write about film, television, and current events. Follow them @andemorgan.

‘It Felt Like Love’ (or Something): One High School Girl’s Sexual Exploration

Some of these scenes we watch like they are part of a horror movie, wanting to say to Lila, “What are you thinking?” Lila, with all her lies (to her father, to Chiara, to her neighbor and to Sammy) never takes the audience (or anyone else) completely into her confidence, so we don’t know what she might do next–and dread seeing her do it. Besides Chiara (who does offer some limited advice and support) Lila has no female figure in her life who can help her navigate the complicated sexual landscape in which boys treat her as if she’s not there. While she listens and watches they talk shit about other girls (and even about her), look at porn and listen to hip-hop in which a man brags that “she fuck me…until she bleed cum.” Lila’s mother is dead and her father hardly seems like someone she can talk to. We can see she wants someone to care about her comings and goings as much as she wants sex: when she texts Sammy or calls him and gets his voice mail the family dog is often her only company.

ItFeltLikeLoveLilaMakeup

Films that focus on a 14- or 15-year-old seeking out sexual experience are not unusual, but ones that do so from a female perspective are. The Norwegian movie Turn Me On, Dammit!, written and directed by a woman, Jannicke Systad Jacobsen, featured a teenage protagonist who wanted sex, but the actress who played her was a young adult, not a kid, so laughing at her scenes of lust gone awry was easy. For a film as powerful and unsettling as writer-director Eliza Hittman’s first feature, It Felt Like Love, which will soon have a theatrical run after playing at the Sundance NEXT section in 2013, we have to go back more than 25 years to David Leland’s Wish You Were Here with the magnificent Emily Lloyd in the lead as a girl who both longs for and is eventually undone by sex.

Hittman’s film focuses on one girl growing up in an unhip section of Brooklyn (though as in Girls, it’s the alternative universe version of Brooklyn where hardly any people of color reside). Lila (hauntingly embodied by Gina Piersanti, just 14 at the time the film was shot) spends the summer hanging out with her friend Chiara (Giovanna Salimeni) and the latest in Chiara’s succession of boyfriends, Patrick (Jesse Cordasco). Lila’s pale, open face, often shot in close-up, with her bud-like mouth and dark eyes, thickly lined in black is reminiscent of the 60s supermodel Penelope Tree with dense bangs that cover her forehead along with long, luxuriant hair that brings to mind the other “dolly bird” actresses and models of that era. But for the same random reasons (which never last beyond graduation) many of us remember from our own high school years, well-tanned Chiara with her bikini and short shorts and skirts is the one who receives all the attention from boys, while Lila sits on the beach, in a one-piece bathing suit that’s a little too big for her, her face covered in zinc oxide.

Lila at the beach
Lila at the beach

In one early scene Chiara’s boyfriend Patrick breaks into an empty house that he invites the girls into and pilfers a cheap-looking “promise” ring from a music box as Lila watches. He puts his finger to his lips, the same gesture he makes when Chiara shows the ring Patrick “got” for her to Lila. And as close as Lila is to Chiara (she dyes her hair an identical color to her friend’s and in one scene Chiara asks Lila to look under her skirt to check and see if “there’s anything there” on her itchy vulva) Lila never tells Chiara Patrick’s secret.

Patrick’s presumptuousness–and Lila’s response to it–is a precursor for the relationships (if one can call them that) which Lila develops with the boys she meets at the beach and parties, who all resemble Patrick, with their slim, hairless but muscular bare torsos (often the subject of close-ups, in Sean Porter’s striking and expert cinematography) they are all about the same height and have similar, unflattering, short haircuts. They reminded me of the one boy the girls who appointed themselves the leaders in such matters determined was the “cute guy” in my seventh-grade gym class. He was inarticulate, not smart and not even good-looking by most measures, but seemed the kind of boy girls were supposed to like, as opposed to the scrawnier (or tubbier), soft-faced ones we girls could actually talk to. Lila readily buys into the peer-determined standard of attractiveness: the middle-school neighbor boy she hangs out with and “confides” mostly lies to is just a friend. The barely verbal, college boy with the tattoo winding around his shoulder whom she sees at the beach (and of whom Chiara says, “He’d fuck anything”) Sammy (Ronen Rubinstein) is the boy she pursues.

Chiara, Patrick and Lila
Chiara, Patrick and Lila

The problem is: she hasn’t even been introduced to or talked to him. And because Lila is at the very beginning of forming her own identity, and Sammy barely acknowledges her–as either a pretty girl or just a person–neither of them have anything to say to one another. Even when she visits his workplace he continues to merely tolerate her company as her machinations to spend time with him (and to try to make him want to spend time with her) become progressively more desperate.

Some of these scenes we watch like they are part of a horror movie, wanting to say to Lila, “What are you thinking?” Lila, with all her lies (to her father, to Chiara, to her neighbor and to Sammy) never takes the audience (or anyone else) completely into her confidence, so we don’t know what she might do next–and dread seeing her do it. Besides Chiara (who does offer some limited advice and support) Lila has no female figure in her life who can help her navigate the complicated sexual landscape in which boys treat her as if she’s not there. While she listens and watches they talk shit about other girls (and even about her), look at porn and listen to hip-hop in which a man brags that “she fuck me…until she bleed cum.”  Lila’s mother is dead and her father hardly seems like someone she can talk to. We can see she wants someone to care about her comings and goings as much as she wants sex: when she texts Sammy or calls him and gets his voice mail the family dog is often her only company.

Sammy and Lila
Sammy and Lila

Although another world of cultural and social opportunities would be just a subway ride away for Lila, she, for the moment, is stuck in a very limited high school social sphere those of us who grew up in the suburbs will recognize.  Because Lila is so young she doesn’t realize she can escape and doesn’t find out, until too late, what the audience knows from the start, that no matter what she does to or for Sammy (or pretends to), he still won’t give a shit about her. In the same way she doesn’t know (but her father does) that Chiara’s romance with Patrick won’t last, no matter how “in love” they say they are. In the end Lila is too young to know that Sammy, if he did reciprocate her interest would have to be something of a loser himself, because she’s just a kid, yet to be formed.

 THE WRITER-DIRECTOR TALKS ABOUT THE FILM

I was able to speak by phone to Eliza Hittman (whose remarks here are edited for clarity and concision). Hittman says this film was influenced by French writer-director Catherine Breillat (Romance, Fat Girl): “There’s so much that’s provocative in her work. It explores power dynamics between women and also these views of romantic love and different types of sexual experiences that you don’t necessarily encounter in a film about young women growing up.

“Catherine Breillat is part of a movement that explores sex as hard. I think a lot of times you watch films about girls who are pursuing men and the main character is super-sexualized. What’s different about this film is, the intention of the character is the same, but in this film you don’t want to see her have the experience. She’s not ready and it’s not reciprocated. That’s uncomfortable to watch but I feel like it’s true, at least of my experience growing up.

“(Lila’s age) is when all of the pressure starts. (You are) looking for models, so you build your identity. That’s why the character dyes her hair like her friend.”

Writer-director Eliza Hittman
Writer-director Eliza Hittman

Hittman says, “The title (of the film) for me is about wanting to have a certain type of intimacy without quite knowing what it is. When you’re that age you’re always (wondering) what love is. I was listening to that song, “He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)” from the 60s. This character is pursuing something and not really knowing the difference between positive and negative experience.”

Although the film will have theatrical releases in New York (this Friday, March 21) and Los Angeles (on March 28) and has received good reviews, like Concussion, another well-reviewed film about a woman from a woman writer-director that was part of Sundance in 2013, it won’t play theaters in my very art-house-friendly city, but will be available on VOD. I can’t shake the feeling if the film were directed by a man, and told from the viewpoint of Sammy, it would be in more theaters. I asked Hittman to comment on distribution of women-directed, women-centered films, “I will say that it does feel like there are limited options for women telling stories about women.You get to Sundance and you have, or I had, this realization that everybody buying and selling movies is male. I think that affects the market in some way.”

You can help change this status quo by making plans to see Hittman’s disturbing, distinctive film however you can. More info, including on future screenings of the film, can be found at http://itfeltlikelove.com

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrqcUMN4s8E “]

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Ren Jender is a queer writer-performer/producer putting a film together. Her writing has appeared in The Toast, xoJane and the Feminist Wire. You can follow her on Twitter @renjender.

 

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Take the Tarrant Test for 2014 Super Bowl Ads! at Ms. blog

Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth premieres nationally Friday, February 7 at 9 p.m. on PBS

Telling women’s stories will change the world, Sundance filmmakers say by Ellen Fagg Weist at The Salt Lake City Tribune

Watching Downton Abbey With an Historian: Birth Control by Mo Moulton at The Toast 

Study: Female Movie Stars’ Paychecks Decrease Rapidly After Age 34 by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Don’t Be a Dick: A Comic About the History of Lady-Centric Comics by Ladydrawers at Bitch Media

Harvey Weinstein: Quentin Tarantino producer vows to stop making excessively violet films by Tomas Jivanda at The Independent

Reel Girl’s List of Top 10 Movies Starring Heroic Girls to Show Your Kids at Reel Girl

Five Theories For What ‘American Horror Story: Coven’ Was Actually About by Alison Willmore at Indiewire

Watch This Anita Hill Documentary Trailer and Remain Calm, I Dare You by Hillary Crosley at Jezebel

7 Ways Stars Can Change Hollywood This Awards Season by Holly L. Derr at Role/Reboot

Shonda Rhimes on her DGA Diversity Award: ‘We’re a tiny bit p-ssed off that there has to be an award’ by Lindsey Bahr at Entertainment Weekly

4 Films about LGBT Muslims Everyone Needs to Watch at QWOC Media

Margaret Cho cast in Tina Fey-produced comedy by Sandra Gonzalez at Entertainment Weekly

Sexed up Powerpuff Girls point to Cartoon Network’s girl problem at Reel Girl

 

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

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Black Film Theory: Fighting the Illusions of White Supremacy in Cinematic Narration – Part Two by Andre Seewood at Shadow and Act

New Film “Obvious Child” is Much More Than a Romantic Comedy About Abortion by Gabrielle Moss at Bitch Media

Sundance: Dear White People Gets Their Attention by Jada Yuan at Vulture

Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg’s ‘Lean In’ Scores Movie Deal by Rebecca Ford at The Hollywood Reporter

L&O: SVU by Melissa McEwan at Shakesville

Why 2014 Should Be The Year We Talk About Abortion on TV by Laura Stampler at TIME

Heroines of Cinema: Where Are The Leading Roles for Black Actresses Over 50? by Matthew Hammett Knott at Indiewire

Un-feisty women on film by Kathryn Bromwich at Dazed

Iranian-American Actress Gets Fed Up With Hollywood’s Racism by Jamilah King at Colorlines

Sundance 2014 Coverage at RogerEbert.com

6 reasons female nudity can be powerful by Soraya Chemaly at Salon

TV: Six More Makers Docs to Air on PBS This Summer by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Athena Film Festival: February 6 – 9 in New York City

 

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

 

 

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Check out what we’ve been reading this week–and let us know what you’ve been reading/writing in the comments!

The Big O: And the Oscars’ Winning (and Losing) Female Nominees Are… by Susan Wloszcyna at Women and Hollywood

Characters Who Have, or Just Think About Having Abortions Often Die by Roxanne Khamsi at Slate

Study: Women are Taking Over Television, While Movies Continue to Leave Them Out by Katey Rich at Vanity Fair

What Happened to the Women Directed Films from the Sundance Class of 2013? by Serena Donadoni at Women and Hollywood

They give out oscars for racism now? by Adrienne Keene at Native Appropriations

Number of Women Oscar Nominees Remains Low by Rachel Larris at Women’s Media Center

EGOT Actress Rita Moreno Talks Oscars, Racial Typecasting, and Getting a SAG Life Achievement Award by Susana Polo at The Mary Sue

The Oldest Surviving Animated Film Was by a German Woman in 1926 (“The Adventures of Prince Achmen”) at Vestal Virgins on tumblr

Five Sundace Shorts Directors You’ve Never Heard Of–Yet by Ally T.K. at Bitch Media

Celluloid Ceiling Report: No Progress in 16 Years for Women in Hollywood by Melissa Silverstein at Women and Hollywood

Sorry, ‘HIMYM’: Casual TV racism won’t fly in the social media age by Audra Schroeder at The Daily Dot

Why Critics Can’t Handle the Female Anti-Hero by Michelle Juergen at Policy Mic

“Saving Mr. Banks” Erases P.L. Travers’ Queer Identity, Misses Amazing Opportunity for Representation by Laura Mandanas at Autostraddle

25 Women Poised to Lead the Culture in 2014 by Michelle Dean at Flavorwire

 

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

 

 

On Sex, Disability, and Helen Hunt in ‘The Sessions’

Movie poster for The Sessions

Written by Stephanie Rogers. 


I hadn’t heard of Mark O’Brien before I saw The Sessions. I only knew that the film starred John Hawkes (of Deadwood, Winter’s Bone, and Martha Marcy May Marlene fame) and Helen Hunt, who I’ve always admired because of her role as the rebellious, dance-obsessed Lynne Stone in the 1985 film Girls Just Want to Have Fun. I was seven years old when I saw that shit, and I’d now consider it one of my first introductions to (somewhat problematic) pop culture feminism. I refuse to let go of it. Also, Helen Hunt was in Twister, a movie about storm chasers who say stuff like, “It’s coming! It’s headed right for us!” and “Debris! We got debris!” Oh yeah, and she won that Best Actress Oscar for As Good As It Gets in 1997.

What I’m trying to say is: Helen Hunt is awesome.

Her latest Sundance Film Festival hit is based on an essay Mark O’Brien wrote for The Sun called, “On Seeing a Sex Surrogate,” which chronicles his experience losing his virginity in his late thirties. Hunt plays Cheryl Cohen Greene, the sex surrogate, and Hawkes plays O’Brien, a man who contracted polio at the age of six and became paralyzed except for limited use of muscles in his right foot, neck, and jaw. He couldn’t spend more than a few hours outside of an iron lung (a metal chamber that forces the lungs to inhale and exhale) and, despite that fact, went on to earn a graduate degree in journalism from UC Berkeley—by traveling back and forth between the university and the iron lung at home. With the ability to move only his head, he wrote articles and poems by holding a stick in his mouth and tapping out letters on a computer.

The audience learns all this within the first ten minutes of the film, and that’s about the time I started telling myself to stop going through life like a lazy fuck. 

Helen Hunt as Cheryl Cohen Greene and John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

That’s some pretty intense subject matter … not me being a lazy fuck—that’s for my therapist and me to work out SOMEDAY—but the serious exploration of a disabled man’s sexuality. While the focus remains on O’Brien throughout, The Sessions also gives us several comedic moments with other physically disabled characters as O’Brien interviews them for an article he’s writing about the sex lives of the disabled. I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to see an on-screen depiction of people with disabilities who do things like omg have sex and who also enjoy talking candidly and unapologetically about having sex. O’Brien’s reactions are hilarious; he gets fairly embarrassed and weirded out during the interviews, but the stories he hears ultimately empower him to think seriously about his own sex life, or lack thereof.

Enter the inimitable William H. Macy (yes!). He plays O’Brien’s priest, Father Brendan, who listens to O’Brien’s confessions every day while guiding him through the guilt he feels about seeking out a sex surrogate. That relationship soon evolves (once O’Brien begins spending time with the surrogate) into more of a friendship, and it’s wonderful to see those lines blurred; watching Macy go from praying with O’Brien in church for the first half of the film to showing up in sweats with a six-pack at O’Brien’s house in the later half got the whole theater cracking up. That friendship grounds the film and keeps it from veering into sentimental territory; the audience looks forward to their light-hearted conversations about some truly heavy subject matter. At the same time, their friendship adds emotional depth to the characters. We realize it isn’t just O’Brien’s physical disability that complicates his sexual exploration, but his Catholic faith as well. These two immensely likeable men clearly like each other—and their pontifications about the role of religion in their lives, and what God will and won’t forgive—keeps this from turning into yet another film about a dude just trying to get laid. 

William H. Macy as Father Brendan and John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

Before seeing the movie, I hadn’t heard about sex surrogates. The real Ms. Greene (who still practices at the age of 68) describes the difference between her profession and prostitution as follows: 

If you go to a prostitute, it’s like going to a restaurant. You read the menu, you choose what you want, they prepare, they hope that you love it, and hopefully you want to come back.

With a surrogate, it’s like going to cooking school. You get the ingredients, you learn to make a meal together—and then the point is to go out into the world and share that and not come back.

I love that explanation, mainly because it doesn’t denigrate prostitutes (or sex workers in general). From what I’ve read, the people who appear to take issue with the sex surrogate profession are running around like, “… but … but … PROSTITUTION WHORES SLUTS BURNING IN HELL,” and regardless of what one thinks about prostitution as a profession, I hope we can all agree that it’s a much more complicated issue than “Prostitution bad. Waiting till marriage for sex good.” (For me, personally, it boils down to the question, “What more can we do to keep sex workers safe?” But, yeah.) 

Helen Hunt as Cheryl Cohen Greene in The Sessions

Most reviews I’ve read of The Sessions focus on Hawkes’ ridiculously good performance as O’Brien—after all, his acting essentially comes from nothing more than his voice and facial expressions. Oscar nomination? Probably. But I’d like to focus on the women in the film, particularly Hunt’s portrayal of Cheryl Cohen Greene.

Helen Hunt ultimately brought The Sessions to life for me. She treats O’Brien with such care, both emotionally and physically, while always maintaining a directness with him that undercuts any potential melodrama. One of my favorite scenes in the film happens right after O’Brien’s first, very brief moment of vaginal penetration. Afterward, he asks, “Did you come, too?” to which she responds, “No, Mark, I didn’t.” I fell in love with the film right then; the innocence of his question and the honesty of her response created more intimacy than most faux-passionate, desperation-filled Hollywood sex scenes could ever hope for.

And that’s the thing about Hunt’s performance. Hawkes, while indisputably great, wouldn’t be half as good in this role if he weren’t playing opposite Helen Hunt. She portrays Greene as confident and self-assured, with no lacy-underweared attempts at sexiness, and with only a tinge of sweetness. This isn’t a film about seduction. It’s mechanical and complicated and wonderful—at one point he has to stop performing cunnilingus because he can’t breathe; at another, she goes to the bathroom in front of him with the door open. Though she forges a strong bond with O’Brien emotionally, the goal always lingers: to help him lose his virginity and help him discover new ways to use and appreciate the human body, his own especially. Hunt says as much in an interview with the L.A. Times: 

Maybe it all gets blurry near the end for a second … But I think that’s life—you can have some errant arrow prick your heart, but these two characters have an intention to keep to their mandate that this all is supposed to serve him. And both of them stick to that, painful as it is.

John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien and Moon Bloodgood as Vera in The Sessions

I’d like to say that all the women in the film were as wonderfully fleshed out and complex as Hunt’s character, but that isn’t true. O’Brien works with three women caretakers throughout, the first (and least conventionally attractive of which) he fires because she just kind of huffs around acting like an asshole. The second is a beautiful woman whose name I can’t remember, and her character development consists mainly of O’Brien gazing longingly over dreamy sequences of her hair blowing in the breeze and shit. Of course he proposes to her (why not!), at which point she quits … but then randomly shows up again later for an impromptu picnic in the park. Okay. The third woman caretaker, well, I kind of loved her. Vera (played by Moon Bloodgood) eases his anxiety more than anything, often making funny quips about sex and the not-a-big-dealness of it as she transports him to and from his sessions with Greene. That affords her an authentic intimacy that the other women characters—other than Greene, of course—don’t get to have. While the previous caretakers exist as shallow plot points to move O’Brien’s story forward, Vera shares a true friendship with him; in many ways, their relationship mirrors the directness and openness of his relationship with Greene.

John Hawkes as Mark O’Brien in The Sessions

For all the bodies on display and the frank sexual discussions, The Sessions deals mostly with trust—how to trust that another person can accept our flaws and cracks and insecurities without judgment; that we’re loveable; that it’s okay to need things from people, and to ask for them. In the end, the graphic sex scenes take a back seat to the emotional connections the characters develop with one another. It’s the expressions on the actors’ faces that tell us everything we need to know.

 

LGBTQI Week: ‘But I’m a Cheerleader’

Movie poster for But I’m a Cheerleader
This is a guest review by Erin Fenner. But I’m a Cheerleader, directed by Jamie Babbit, plays with stereotypes. But not like, “haha let’s use broad generalizations to create characters, but never develop them.” No, this film paints everything pink and blue (pretty much literally) and then asks the audience: Really? Is this what gender and sexuality should look like?It’s even in the title. But I’m a Cheerleader is about a teenage girl, Megan (Natasha Lyonne), who’s naïve about her own sexuality because she fits so comfortably into the norm of femininity. She’s Christian, an “all-American girl” and a cheerleader, so she doesn’t suspect that her attraction to women and sexual disinterest with men is a sign that she’s a lesbian.

It takes an intervention and her parents’ sending her to a “pray away the gay” sort of camp, for Megan to realize she’s gay. Her family sends her to the camp “New Directions” hoping she’ll come back straight, but it only instills in Megan a certainty about her sexuality she hadn’t had before. Not only does she realize that being a lesbian is part of who she is, but through falling in love with another girl at the camp, Megan finds out that she doesn’t want to change it either.

This camp, by the way, looks like it came out of Tim Burton’s nightmares: brightly colored, celebrating conformity and bursting with perkiness.

The director of the camp, Mary Brown (Cathy Moriarty), “cures” homosexuality with a five-step-program. This program mostly involves making the collection of not-so-hetero teenagers act out their gender roles. The different campers are encouraged to find the root cause of their homosexuality – usually being a moment in their childhood where they witnessed adults deviating from gender norms. One’s mom wore pants at her wedding. Another’s mother let him play in pumps. Etcetera.

And so, Mary’s process is to push the adolescents into the cartoon versions of manhood and womanhood. The boys work with Mike (RuPaul) by playing football in solid blue uniforms, fixing a solid blue car and acting out war with solid blue weapons. The girls have their own solid pink version of this: changing baby doll’s diapers, cleaning house and painting nails.

And, through this process we can see how outlandish the performance of gender is. The characters themselves don’t fit neatly into their prescribed roles, and that’s what this film has fun with. We are presented with stereotypes that are swiftly debunked.Megan, for instance, is the exemplary feminine teenager: bouncy blonde hair, bubbly and, yes, she’s a cheerleader. But she also happens to be gay. Dolph (Dante Basco) is a jock who presents himself with military formality and is the first to be booted out of the camp for making out with a fellow male camper. On the other hand, Jan (Katrina Phillips) presents herself in a masculine way. She cries out during a group therapy meeting that, “Everybody thinks I’m this big dyke because I wear baggy pants and play softball and I’m not as pretty as other girls, but that doesn’t make me gay. I mean, I like guys. I can’t help it!”The film picks away at our association with gender and sexuality by presenting us with characters across the gender spectrum – reminding us that sexuality isn’t about whether you paint your nails, but who you are attracted to.

But I’m a Cheerleader does fall into some traps. In portraying characters that are outrageous, there are lots of stereotypically flamboyant gay men. It’s less heinous than most portrayals in the mainstream, and seems to at least be trying to have a purpose. We see Mary’s son, Rock, in short shorts dancing around while ostensibly doing landscape work; living up to the most ridiculous and irritating gay stereotype. But, it’s supposed to be over-the-top to reveal the hypocrisy and absurdity of the camp. Also, while the film does a great job challenging the association of gender and sexuality, and presenting a gender spectrum, it doesn’t explore the spectrum of sexuality so much. Bisexuality is invisible.

But overall, the narrative is one that successfully challenges sexism and heteronormativity. Megan’s journey of falling in love and accepting herself looks normal compared to the antics of those who support the camp. It certainly feels more natural and provides a heart to the film that grounds it.

Megan’s romance with Graham (Clea DuVall) has the perfect combination of silly sweetness and teenage angst. While Graham accepts that she’s gay and is sure it is unchangeable, she is willing to stay in the closet to continue getting support from her family. When Graham and Megan are exposed – Megan leaves the camp, and Graham stays.

Reparative therapy has been the butt of many jokes, but it has existed and been validated by hack psychologists who contort research in an effort to prove that being gay is a mental illness. Robert L. Spitzer who published a study that suggested reparative therapy works, recently made an apology to the gay community because the study has been used to back up harmful methodology. But I’m a Cheerleader tackles an otherwise troubling topic, and makes it funny while still remaining critical.

In the film, while some characters make an effort to be straight, it seems clear that all understand it’s a role they are playing to appease their family. The futile effort could be their chance to remain a member of the community they grew up in. Megan knows that choosing to be open about her sexuality could lead to losing her family, but she chooses pride and oh-so-heroically rescues Graham from the altar of straightness (literally.)

But I’m a Cheerleader isn’t trying to be subtle. The absurdity of gender expectations is put on display with a too-bubbly soundtrack. Because: our society’s gender expectations are insane. And, it’s downright crazy to try to force an identity and sexuality on a person. But, But I’m a Cheerleader gives us a little hope at the end of a wacky lace-trimmed narrative. While the camp wasn’t exposed, while the girls weren’t guaranteed their families, Megan still performed a radical action in embracing both her identity as a lesbian and as a cheerleader. She challenged the expectations of her prescribed role, and still got the girl in the end.

———-

Erin Fenner is a legislative intern and blogger for Trust Women: advocating for the reproductive rights of women in conservative Midwestern states. She also writes for the Trust Women blog and manages their social media networks. She graduated from the University of Idaho with a B.S. in Journalism.

 

Television Preview: Push Girls

Promotional poster for the new reality TV series Push Girls

A new reality TV show called Push Girls, starring four disabled women in wheelchairs, premiered on the Sundance Channel last night. And it’s gotten glowing reviews.

Jill Serjeant writes for the Huffington Post:
Angela is a stunning model, Auti is a dancer who is trying for a baby, Tiphany is designing a clothes line and Mia works as a graphic designer.

And all four women are paralyzed from the neck or waist down and are about to shatter widespread notions of what it’s like to spend life in a wheelchair.

“Push Girls”, launching on the Sundance Channel on Monday, chronicles the lives of the ambitious and dynamic quartet in a way that producers say has never before been seen on U.S. television.

“Plenty of people have no idea what it’s like to spend the day in the life of someone with a disability, let alone a spinal cord injury,” said Tiphany Adams, 29, who was paralyzed in a horrific 2000 car accident.

“How do we get in and out of a car? How do we go to the bathroom. How do we go grocery shopping? How do we get in the shower? How do we get dressed? I thought it was a brilliant idea for the world to see that,” she said.

Told without self-pity, “Push Girls” shows the women going about their lives in Los Angeles just like other good-looking females in their 20s, 30s and 40s – flirting, going to nightclubs, in bed with boyfriends, chatting about love lives and searching their souls about the future.

Mary McNamara of the Los Angeles Times writes:
But television is a visual medium, and one point the show makes with breathtaking rapidity is that tragedy can interrupt even the most seemingly charmed life. The other, more important point is that it can be just that — an interruption rather than an off-the-rails ending.

“If I can’t stand up, I’m going to stand out,” says one of the women toward the end of the pilot, and that would appear to be its theme.

Where others might have chosen to follow the overtly emotional, “The Other Side of the Mountain”-type story line of agonizing transition from able-bodied to physically challenged, this show does not. Instead, it chooses women who have been in their chairs for at least 10 years — which shows in the grace and ease with which they operate their chairs and perform tasks that, to the able-bodied, would seem impossible without full mobility.

Linda Holmes of NPR makes astute observations as well:
Let’s say this first: Popular television is bad at lots of things, and one of them is representations of people with disabilities. Even where they’re present – Artie on Glee, or Walter, Jr. on Breaking Bad – they tend to be in isolation. When there’s more than one person in a wheelchair, for instance, like when Jason Street was in rehab on Friday Night Lights, the story is usually about the disability itself.

I sat down to think about the last time I saw television pass a sort of invented variation (not parallel, but similar in intent) on the Bechdel test: two people with disabilities talking in depth about things other than their disabilities. I’m sure it’s happened, but I strained to think of examples.

 …
It’s still a reality show, like many others. It’s still a reality show about people who are way too hot to be representative of the population, and about people who gossip about each other and share more personal details than most of us would. To a degree, it truly does just happen to be a show about people in wheelchairs, and that’s probably the best thing it could be.
Neil Genzlinger of the New York Times praises the show but offers a critique:
The premiere episode tends to lapse into a “You go, girl” mode typical of shallow treatments of disability, with fist-pumping and treacly background music. It’s a tone that subtly demeans, suggesting that simple things like having head shots taken (Ms. Rockwood is trying to restart a modeling career) must be applauded because, golly, for someone in a wheelchair to do anything other than sit there is a triumph.

A little of that may be necessary to hook an audience that has come to expect this treatment whenever a person with a disability turns up on television, but the faster this show sheds that tone and its preoccupation with sex, the more useful it will be. There are numerous other things we’d like to know about these interesting women besides the particulars of their love lives: their finances, their experiences on the job, their journey to get to the confidence level they seem to have achieved, their hopes for new technologies and medical breakthroughs.

Another challenge for “Push Girls” is dispelling the impression that these women are representative. Certain viewers might well look at them and conclude, “Gorgeous, smart, independent; I guess the disabled-Americans problem has been solved, so I can go back to not thinking about it.”

Over dinner in Beverly Hills recently, the sisterhood was palpable. Funny and vibrant, the women were as quick to tease each other over entrée choices as they were to argue over who looks the most beautiful when she wakes up in the morning. The tears flowed just as easily when the conversation turned to what their friendship means, and not just for the women. Even Chelsie’s father, Jon Hill, and Rockwood’s caregiver, Aunty Judy, became misty-eyed a couple of times.

“It was such a turning point for Chelsie to meet them all at one time,” Jon Hill said. “She’s always been a happy kid, but when she met the girls and we left there, she was singing and dancing in the car. Just pumped up. That’s what I needed to see. Even though she wasn’t depressed, it was just finding that right niche so she wouldn’t be sitting at home in the chair. It’s helped me tremendously being around these ladies.”

The Hollywood Reporter notes:

A more subtle aspect of the show is seeing how others react to the Push Girls: from rudeness to confusion, there are many levels of discomfort on display among the able-bodied people featured. How the women deal with the awkwardness varies within the group, but it’s one of the more moving subtexts. There’s a mixture of duty and fatigue when Angela talks a photographer through the reality of her leg spasms as he puts on an awkward grin, unsure of how to handle the fact that she could, at any moment, “stroke out.”

The series starts off with the women beginning their very L.A.-flavored journeys toward starting (or restarting) their careers, and there’s something captivating in that struggle even beyond the affecting nature of seeing these women work to transcend their disabilities. Despite the leisurely pace of the filming, which lacks a certain amount of dramatic tension, there’s a fiery spirit to Push Girls that cannot be ignored.

You can watch the first episode on Hulu.