Tag: Television

A Girl Worth Fighting For: ‘Ava Snow Battles Death’

For all my cynicism, fall TV season secretly fills me with (false, inevitably dashed) hope every year. I may not always admit it, but I do give a fair chance to any new show that strikes my attention even a little. (Grad school has robbed me of many things – NaNoWriMo, the concept of disposable income, alcohol, the ability to stay awake for more than eight hours at a stretch, my last slender grasp on mental health – but it has not yet made a significant dent in the truly irresponsible amounts of TV I watch.) On some level, I think I’m still searching for something to fill the Buffy-shaped hole in my heart.

For all my cynicism, fall TV season secretly fills me with (false, inevitably dashed) hope every year. I may not always admit it, but I do give a fair chance to any new show that strikes my attention even a little. (Grad school has robbed me of many things – NaNoWriMo, the concept of disposable income, alcohol, the ability to stay awake for more than eight hours at a stretch, my last slender grasp on mental health – but it has not yet made a significant dent in the truly irresponsible amounts of TV I watch.) On some level, I think I’m still searching for something to fill the Buffy-shaped hole in my heart.

(DO NOT mention the comic books. Just don’t.)

What I want isn’t complicated: good, women-centered specfic.

Pick two.
Pick two.

Primetime just isn’t giving me what I want. Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is watchable, but big-screen success has amplified many of the most problematic tendencies in Joss Whedon’s work. Supernatural is my latest mini-obsession (no spoilers please; still in season 5), but it has a MAJOR women problem which even its own stars recognize, and where is my equivalent show about two demon-hunting sisters? Sleepy Hollow is gloriously, magnificently awful and I love every minute of that nonsense, but lord have mercy it’s terribad. The best women-centered specfic of 2013 was indisputably Orphan Black, but it’s disappointingly low-profile compared to those other big-hitters.

TV’s failure to deliver on this front is especially irritating because women-centered specfic is in a general cultural boom. The current crop of post-Twilight YA specfic with female protagonists – Hunger Games, Mortal Instruments, Divergent – proves that there’s an audience hungry for this stuff in both our books and our films, and yet television is still largely determined to prove that it is SRS BSNS, which in our culture always equates to telling stories about white cishet dudes.

And so we turn, as always when life disappoints, to the internet. The Kickstarter campaign for Ava Snow Battles Death was recently brought to Bitch Flick’s attention, and it looks like a series with the potential to deliver the women-centered specfic goods.

Misfits. Knife-fights. Government cover-ups. Ancient curses. Good versus evil. Overlords from another dimension.

That’s right. This web series is going to punch the internet in the face.

Sure, it’s a little cutesy, but it also sounds really cool. Judging from the teasers, this embryonic webseries offers us specfic adventures with thrills and horror and a romance subplot, female friendship between complex characters who easily pass the Bechdel test, and a kickass woman protagonist with amazing hair and a memorably distinctive style.

UGH just look at her. I'm already in love.
UGH just look at her. I’m already in love.

I’m optimistic about Ava Snow for a few reasons.

First, the creative team. The names of the Kickstarter backing levels tell us something about their specfic influences, which are impeccable: from Buffy to Star Wars, from Battlestar Galactica to Game of Thrones, from The X-Files to H.P. Lovecraft, they span the gamut of geek cred.

Second, the backstory of creators Zack Drisko and Arielle Davidsohn.

Zack and Arielle met in Los Angeles in 2009, fell in love, and moved in together. They have always been happy with each other but found themselves struggling with the other parts of their lives. Both creative types, they were frustrated by the obstacles involved with breaking into the Hollywood entertainment industry and doing all the menial odd jobs to get by in the meantime.

So they created Ava Snow as their own personal hero to inspire them. They channeled their hopes and frustrations into Ava Snow, and she became a hybrid of the traits they needed and wanted: someone who never took crap, who never stopped fighting, who refused to conform to what others wanted. She became a hero forged by the real life struggles of her writers.

That is both super adorable and pretty cool, not to mention a mouth-watering possibility for Supernatural-style fourth-wall-destruction somewhere down the line. (As one of my undergrad professors used to say, <British accent>meta is better</British accent>.)

Third and not least, the characters and premise. Unless I’m gravely misunderstanding, Ava Snow’s strength is not of supernatural provenance. She has internal strength built up by facing adversity, and it’s this inner strength that is coveted by evil underlords who are trying to steal her soul. And she has a best friend who’s a shy, awkward nerd girl. Any show with the potential for an odd-couple bromance a la Buffy/Willow gets my seal of approval. ava-snow-2You can visit the official Ava Snow Battles Death website here.

Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, tumbles as trans substantial, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax. Tatiana Maslany is his queen.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

From a Saudi Arabian female filmmaker to loving your body to privilege–check out what we’ve been reading about this week! What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Saudi Arabian Film “Wadjda” Quietly Subverts and Stuns by Sarah Mirk at Bitch Media

The Big O: How Sandra Bullock Found Her Own Sense of Gravity by Susan Wloszczyna at Women and Hollywood

Homeland and Mental Illness by Melissa McEwan at Shakesville

The Female Anti-Hero in “Masters of Sex” by Alyssa Rosenberg at Bitch Media

Fanboys Don’t Like Black Widow’s ‘Huge’ Role in the Avengers Sequel by Alexander Abad-Santos at The Atlantic Wire

Why ‘It’s Like a 13-Hour Movie’ Fails to Do Justice to Great TV by Ronan Doyle at Indiewire

Women Film Pioneers Project at Columbia University

Meet Chris Nee, creator of Disney’s “Doc McStuffins” by Lorena Ruiz at msnbc

Quote of the Day: Jennifer Lawrence to Hollywood’s Diet Police “Go F*** Yourself” by Kerensa Cadenas at Women and Hollywood

Natalie Portman On The Real Meaning of Feminism at Huffington Post

The Feministing Five: Mariska Hargitay by Suzanna at Feministing

Fox Buys Diablo Cody/Fake Empire Drama by Nellie Andreeva at Deadline Hollywood

OWN: Oprah Winfrey Network Presents Special Night of Programming on Being Gay in America by Tambay A. Obenson at Shadow and Act

Stars Bring Laughter, Tears to Variety’s Power of Women Luncheon by AJ Marechal at Variety

Loving Your Body in the Age of Patriarchy by Sam at Autostraddle

Why We Still Need to Talk About Privilege by Jamilah King at Colorlines

Stop Dismissing Young Female Musicians as “Inauthentic” by Carl Wilson at Slate

 

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

Why ‘The Legend of Korra’ is (Still) a Feminist’s Headache

The Legend of Korra Book 2 promotional poster.

Written by Erin Tatum.

Let me start by saying that I love Avatar: The Last Airbender. I’ve watched it since its original run in 2005 and I continue to re-watch it. The themes are relatable and they always will be. Yes, it’s a kids’ show, but it has genuine appeal across all ages, and not in the same tongue-in-cheek way as Adventure Time or My Little Pony. Set in a world where people can “bend” (control and/or manipulate) the elements–water, earth, fire, and air–the series borrows heavily from martial arts and eastern spirituality. We follow the long lost Avatar, Aang, as he and his friends attempt to restore peace after a hundred-year world war. The animation is gorgeous and the action scenes are impeccably well choreographed. Most of all, the narrative and characterization are emotionally balanced and unexpectedly poignant given its target demographic.
Avatar: The Last Airbender.

 

Critics noted that A:TLA was unique for the children’s genre in its incorporation of serious romantic themes. Most of the characters have long-term love interests and complex moral or emotional turmoil relating to their relationships, rendering them much more nuanced. This was a radical departure from the usual crush fluff, probably due in part to the fact that the characters were in a perpetual war zone. The writers did a phenomenal job of devoting proper attention to the military conflict while providing the audience just enough fodder to keep us invested in the characters’ personal dynamics. Ultimately, the war always superseded romantic angst in importance.
Korra on her way to steal yo man.

 

In theory, The Legend of Korra initially seemed full of potential. A strong female protagonist! A woman of color! A woman who could easily be reinterpreted as queerly coded! Unfortunately, the execution is less than stellar. Korra and her friends are 17-20, as opposed to the 12-17 age range of the A:TLA cast. The writers took advantage of the age jump to make the sequel series the Y7 equivalent of Hotter and Sexier, which apparently means piling on the hormones. Whereas in A:TLA, relationship tensions had a slight influence on the action, the conflict in The Legend of Korra serves as mere white noise to the Love Drama of the Week. I almost feel like I shouldn’t bother explaining the alleged overarching premise because it frankly doesn’t matter. A civil war is brewing between benders and non-benders and Korra (the reincarnation of Aang) must again fight to restore balance. While this could have been a fantastic commentary on class struggle, what’s really important is who Korra dates! Accordingly, the plot is consistently suffocated by a love square so forced and melodramatic that I was honestly embarrassed that this was considered quality enough to inherit the legacy of the franchise.
The Legend of Pheromones: Mako and Asami (front) with Korra and Bolin (back).

 

Long story short, Korra finds herself torn between the affections of two brothers, geeky Bolin and brooding Mako. That sound you hear is me slamming my head against my desk. Korra pines after Mako, who represents a botched attempt to recapture the popularity of Zuko, resident bad boy and puberty catalyst of the A:TLA universe. Mako gets a girlfriend, Asami, who is actually really nice and arguably more sympathetic than Korra, but we are supposed to irrationally hate her because she’s blocking the Official Couple. Sexism ensues. Mako is a douchebag who cheats on Asami by kissing Korra and never taking accountability for it or apologizing to Asami and Bolin. Korra saves the city via a last-minute deus ex machina and Mako tells her he loves her. Essentially, we spend 10 episodes watching the beautiful love story of two emotionally unavailable teenagers with anger issues passive aggressively refusing to date each other until they do. Cool.

Bolin accurately captures my reaction to Mako and Korra’s brief PDA.

 

With this in mind, I was reticent to say the least about giving the second season a try. Apologists insisted that the choppy quality was attributable to the fact that The Legend of Korra was originally planned to be a standalone miniseries, so I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. It’s not that Friday’s premiere was necessarily worse, it’s just that the characters continue to be bogged down by needing overt romantic storylines to validate any narrative movement. Six months have passed and more trouble is on the horizon. Korra needs to decide whether or not to go to the South Pole to advance her Avatar training. Korra and Mako have a lot of arguments about whether or not he is being supportive enough because she’s confused and he won’t make a decision for her. Ninety percent of their interaction is arguing. If there’s anything young fans want, it’s to excitedly pair up with your crush and then immediately skip to the part where you’re jaded and irritated with each other.
Luckily for Korra, she has plenty of other men eager to tell her what to do. Her mentor, her dad, and her uncle fight about what’s best for her the entire episode while Korra huffs and pouts. This is supposed to make her more sympathetic by again painting her as an average (gifted) girl who has her precociously cunning intuitions stifled by myopic adults who unfairly underestimate her. I am less inclined to believe this since she never seems to do anything other than either begrudgingly following orders or deliberately doing the opposite and claiming it’s her idea because she’s pathologically incapable of admitting she can’t take anyone’s advice. She has had virtually zero character growth since the pilot, which is a real travesty in light of the extensive personal evolution in A:TLA. I guess Mako came along and made her Distracted by the Sexy.
Korra uses firebending to stop a Spirit from attacking the town.

 

Korra has a new enemy in the form of angry spirits. The combat scenes are, as usual, visually stunning. I’m in this for the Scenery Porn. True to form, Korra punches her way through everything, choosing to bypass more meticulous styles of bending in favor of brute strength. The problem with LOK is that Korra’s stubbornness and aggression are marketed as female empowerment in that they seem to be the self-aware antithesis to traditional femininity. Korra even pigeonholed Asami early on as prim and proper because she was a girly girl. Why is femininity still considered the enemy or an embarrassing relic to move past? Masculinized traits on their own don’t automatically equal a liberated female protagonist. Reversing the stereotype doesn’t necessarily make the resulting portrayal a positive one. Having a strong point of view is all well and good, but you should have a vague grasp of your identity. We still have no idea who Korra is and it’s the second season. She’s actually quite a disappointing cliché if you think about it. She can only understand herself and her potential for progression through her relationship with Mako. The various conflicts and the bending are simply bells and whistles to distract from the fact that she still feels the need to define herself through a man.
Asami faces down an intimidating businessman.

 

Asami is kicking ass and taking names as the new head of her father’s company. She and Bolin close a business deal together and it’s awesome. I want to be excited, I really do. Alas, I’m sure she’ll only reappear to tease romantic subtext between her and Bolin. The scene came off as a bit forced and I think the writers wanted to throw Asami in briefly to respond to the criticism that she wouldn’t have a shelf life after the love triangle. I hope she stays a regular. Also, Mako is now a motorcycle cop, despite the series being very clearly set in the Jazz age. Just in case you needed more confirmation that he’s the golden boy. Mako’s irresistible charisma allows him to transcend the pace of human innovation! Maybe he should use his charm to inspire someone to cure cancer 40 years sooner.
Eska sizes up Bolin.
After getting his heart stomped all over by Korra, Bolin had to be given a new love interest fast or risk losing all relevance to the LOK universe. Seeing that he was relegated to one-dimensional comic relief to eliminate him as a threat to precious Mako for Korra, it’s fitting that Bolin’s girlfriend is… one-dimensional comic relief. Korra’s nearly identical twin cousins, Desna and Eska (boy and girl respectively), come to town and Bolin is instantly taken by the beauty of both twins, although he quickly changes his tune when he realizes that Desna is a guy. Eska’s deadpan, monotone delivery reminded me of Aubrey Plaza and then I saw that Plaza actually does voice Eska, so that’s badass. Eska instantly takes a shining to Bolin’s flirting and suddenly they’re “dating” within a few lines of dialogue. Genuine development is reserved for main characters, which Bolin has apparently been demoted from indefinitely.
Eska breaks up the hug between Bolin and Korra (source).

 

Many viewers have already raised concerns that Bolin and Eska’s relationship is abusive and claim that fangirls are overlooking Eska’s problematic behavior. In particular, they cite the moment towards the end of the episode where Eska uses waterbending to forcibly separate Bolin and Korra when he tries to hug her and then demands an explanation. Eska’s oddly formal way of speaking and morose goth girl personality, once literally coupled with Bolin’s hapless Idiot Hero shtick, indicates that their dynamic exists almost solely to be played for laughs. I’m not sure if it’s actually funny yet because it screams try hard. Either way, Eska has risen to fandom darling overnight. Funny how traits that would’ve been red flags for assholes where men are concerned translate into quirky and adorable qualities for girls to have. It might be too early in Bolin and Eska’s supposed relationship to determine concrete abusive tendencies, but possessiveness is never cute or attractive, regardless of your gender. You know that if it had been Mako blocking Korra from hugging Bolin, fandom would be in an uproar. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl really is catnap to young audiences, especially if you put her in sheep’s (or rather, goth’s) clothing.
Jinora gazes at a statue of Aang.

 

I’m the most intrigued by the plot given the least attention. This episode foreshadowed Aang’s granddaughter, Jinora, having special connections to the Spirit World. She is too young to be given a boyfriend yet, so I have faith that she might be one female character to grow and develop as an individual, but only by virtue of prepubescence. Sigh.
It’s extremely frustrating because anyone who has seen A:TLA knows what Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko (the creators of A:TLA and LOK) are capable of. Sure, the romance in A:TLA was enjoyable, but LOK pushes it to soap opera extremes. They seem to be hooked on the thrill of ship wars to the point where it perputually eclipses everything else in LOK. There are already rumblings of a Bolin-centered love triangle with Asami and Eska. Just stop using nonsensical romantic angst to fill narrative space. Not only is reliance on triangles a very amateur writing move, but it signals that you are so uninspired by your own characters that the most compelling thing you could come up with for them to do is fight over each other. That’s stale and frankly depressing.
Lastly, stop leaving Korra in the lurch. One of the last exchanges in the episode gave us this little steaming turd of a gem:
Korra: It’s hard being the Avatar.
Mako: It’s harder being the Avatar’s boyfriend.

(cue forced chuckling and hug)
A dramatic reenactment of my response to the above dialogue.

 

Is there such a thing as sexism bending? Because it should be certified as a fundamental element of the LOK universe.
The Legend of Korra should be about Korra’s journey. It’s not The Legend of Mako and Associates. Mako and the others can help Korra, but they don’t need to compulsively define her every step of the way. Let her find herself and stumble a bit on her own. I guarantee that she won’t scrape her knees too badly if Mako isn’t there to hold her hand. Korra is strong, so give her a little backbone. The Avatar deserves more than just being somebody’s girlfriend.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

How Cartoons Inform Children’s Ideas About Race by Federico Subervi at Huffington Post

TV can make America better by Jennifer L. Ponzer at Salon

“Where’s the female Woody Allen?” by Heather Havrilesky at Salon

There’s No Excuse For Misogyny In Space by Helen O’Hara at Empire Online
Pondering Roseanne on its 25th Anniversary by Alyssa Rosenberg at Women and Hollywood
What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks Weekly Picks

How Cartoons Inform Children’s Ideas About Race by Federico Subervi at Huffington Post

TV can make America better by Jennifer L. Ponzer at Salon

“Where’s the female Woody Allen?” by Heather Havrilesky at Salon

There’s No Excuse For Misogyny In Space by Helen O’Hara at Empire Online
Pondering Roseanne on its 25th Anniversary by Alyssa Rosenberg at Women and Hollywood
What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

The Golden Age of Television: Boys Only

Written by Rachel Redfern

The rise of the anti-hero has most TV and media reviewers heralding the past ten years as revolutionary, a “golden age of television.”

And I think it’s true, great television seems to be popping out of the seams of my TV and an ever-expanding “To Watch” list on my desk. In fact, looking at the recent figures for big summer blockbusters (most of which seem to have failed miserably) some (myself included) are wondering if Hollywood studios might be fading into the shadows of networks such as AMC and HBO.

TV, because of its much longer time allowances (12-20 hours of viewing per season) and recently-improved watching options (Hulu, Netflix, DVD releases and, let’s face it, illegal streaming and downloading) seem to create far more interesting characters and way more space for subtle scheming and intrigue in their plot lines. Increasingly, Hollywood opts for a bigger explosion to counteract its total lack of originality and character development.

So, in a word, I would argue yes, I find higher quality entertainment and better stories about life and humanity in television than I do at the movies.

But I don’t see many women in these shows either. 

Some of Brett Martin’s “Difficult Men”
GQ writer Brett Martin’s new book Difficult Men: Behind the Scenes of a Creative Revolution from ‘The Sopranos’ and ‘The Wire’ to ‘Mad Men’ and ‘Breaking Bad’ is all about the fabulously conflicted male characters springing up in television: Walter White, Don Draper, Al Swearengen and the others that are the front men for this great revolution. And writing about these complex male characters is important, but the book’s content reveals one of the major flaws within this golden age–where are all the conflicted, complex women and the TV shows that center on their lives?
I can think of only two (please add to this list though in the comments if you can think of any more): Homeland and Weeds, although Game of Thrones has several interesting female characters running around. (It perhaps has one of the better ratios of compelling female and male characters.)
Claire Danes as Carrie Mathison in Homeland
I’m not sure that blaming the producers and writers of these shows is going to get us anywhere because the problem is obviously much deeper than that, and it begs the question, why aren’t women’s stories interesting to producers and writers? Why aren’t female protagonists fascinating and complex?

Do audiences consider stories with female protagonists un-relatable? Uninteresting? Too unbelievable? Or does this lack merely reflect life in that there aren’t any women doing enough “complex” and “darkly-human” things to model the character after?

I don’t believe any of that is true, but that doesn’t change the amount of women headlining an AMC show. In thinking about my favorite shows, I can only think of a few female characters that I would consider unique and groundbreaking. Consider Breaking Bad: while Skyler is an interesting enough character, she’s far less compelling (and obviously secondary) to the character development that Walt is showcasing, often being seen as no more than a “nag” or “hen-pecking shrew” to many viewers (not this one).  In fact, the backlash against Skyler (Anna Gunn) has been so intense (consider the meme below as a common example of how the internet seems to view the poor woman) that Gilligan actually addressed the problem in a recent interview.

One of the nicer internet memes for Skyler White (Anna Gunn)
However, as a whole, with the story centering on and following a female protagonist, the number is proportionately small.

So ladies, either we are far too flat and boring to be on TV, or as it has been for so long, our stories and interactions are still being undervalued. Therefore, we should set some goals for ourselves: be marvelously interesting (sarcasm) and (more importantly) continue to write, produce, direct and support more TV shows about women–because I don’t see many others doing it for us.

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

Disabilities Week: ‘Glee’s Not So Gleeful Representation of Disabled Women

Glee poster, Season 3

This is a guest review by Erin Tatum.

It’s no secret that Glee is offensive to pretty much anyone who isn’t an able white male. While Glee has justifiably received a lot of flak for its treatment of certain communities – notable examples include Brittany breaking up with Santana only to be shoved into a nonsensical heterosexual relationship with Sam and relegating Tina and Mike to the background as self-aware Asian stereotypes – viewers have been relatively mum with respect to Glee’s treatment of disability. Artie is Glee‘s resident disabled character, whose rampant sexism is often played for laughs as he rehearses the trope of masculine entitlement no matter how ridiculous the conditions (in this case, the assumption that his disability should normally negate his sexuality, making his womanizing ways all the more ludicrous). Given that Artie’s disability is so wrapped up in issues of male privilege, I was curious to see if or how Glee would handle women with disabilities. Unsurprisingly, the two brief instances of women with physical disabilities were both heavily sexually coded and presented in ways that policed and shamed female sexuality.

Quinn seems to be Ryan Murphy’s favorite punching bag. I don’t understand how someone can get pregnant, give their baby up for adoption, get accepted to Yale, get into a car accident, and be disabled and then miraculously healed again in the span of four years, but Glee does have a knack for redefining the narratively impossible. After said car accident, Quinn makes an implausibly short recovery to return to school weeks later perfectly unscathed except for the presence of her wheelchair.

Quinn Fabray (Dianna Agron) and Artie Abrams (Kevin McHale) in Glee

Flanked by her new BFF Artie – which tells you that this is going to be a very special minority duo bonding episode! – Quinn tells a distraught Rachel that this is the happiest day of her life. I groaned then and there because I knew Quinn wouldn’t remain disabled and this was just going to be her 575th chance to get some perspective (what I like to call Drive-by Oppression as a tool for lazy character development) and realize the benefits of able privilege. The problem is that Quinn’s introductory episode with a disability – rather than highlighting all the strength of the disabled community, is really just a reaffirmation of everything able-bodied people find unsavory about disability and a justification for Quinn’s ableist prejudices.

Quinn and Artie sing “I’m Still Standing”

Quinn and Artie lip-synch to a particularly offensive duet of “I’m Still Standing,” which is meant to be an inspirational metaphor for staying strong and being glad you’re still alive and yada yada. Again, this might actually mean something if the entire episode weren’t devoted to Quinn proving to everyone how not disabled she is because it doesn’t fit her character trajectory. As we all know, just like in real life, those who start out able-bodied never become disabled because that doesn’t logically make sense with how they’re supposed to be!

Artie shows Quinn how to wheel up a ramp

The episode shows some obligatory wheelchair-based bonding between Quinn and Artie, such as Artie teaching Quinn how to wheel herself up a ramp. Can I say that I found the whole Artie as disability Yoda plotline doubly offensive because neither of the actors is disabled in real life? Stop pretending that sitting down in a wheelchair is all it takes to accurately portray disability. Anyway, Quinn gets offended the second Artie insinuates that she might have to plan for life with a disability long-term. As someone who has had a disability from birth, I can’t imagine the turmoil that formerly able-bodied people must go through after suffering an accident. That said, it’s another matter entirely to endorse Quinn’s pessimism as a means of reasserting ableist privilege over Artie because it sends a message that deep down, all people believe that the disabled lifestyle is limiting, tragic, and not all that viable when it comes to achieving overall life goals. Her interaction with Artie pretty much ends here, signaling the start of her ascent back into an able-bodied lifestyle.

Of course, Quinn couldn’t pass through her tenure with a disability without some good old-fashioned disabled sexuality shaming! Yes, Ryan Murphy has her take the stereotypical route of assuming that she’ll never be loved again because of her disgusting wheelchair. Nevertheless, sparks fly between her and dreadlocked, overzealous Christian Joe, a.k.a. Teen Jesus. Many of their fellow glee clubbers exchange knowing side-eyes and suppressed giggles when the duo shares a sensuous duet of “Saving All My Love for You.” The reaction to their performance stands in glaring contrast to those from Quinn’s past romantic duets in its distinctively patronizing tone, already signaling Quinn as an object of infantilism. Disabled sexuality can only ever hope to parody “legitimate” adult sexuality as a spectacle of able titillation.

Quinn uses her reflection in a hand dryer to apply her lipstick

The girls excitedly gossip about Joe’s obvious crush in the bathroom, where Quinn makes the best of her newly lowered height by stoically reapplying her lipstick in the reflection of the hand dryer. Quinn brushes off their teasing by announcing that she’s said goodbye to that part of her life because clearly no one would ever want her when she’s in a chair, as evidenced by Joe’s discomfort during a steamy moment in physical therapy (yes, really). The worst part is that her speedy recovery validates this mentality. It’s moments like this that make me sad for young viewers with disabilities who may actually perceive these characters as role models. For those who have lived with a disability and have no possibility of recovery, all scenes like this do is perpetuate the myth of disability as a sexless Siberia of perpetual isolation. Further, Quinn’s attitude is marketed as noble.

Quinn gets physical therapy from Teen Jesus

But there’s a bright spot, kids! It turns out Joe was only recoiling in horror from Quinn’s crippled body because he apparently has a nasty habit of getting boners around her. This catalyzes a spiritual crisis within him because he is against premarital sex. Quinn finds out via feeling his erection against her leg, causing her to smirk in self-satisfaction because she’s still got it. Joe then saves face by babbling some drivel about how beautiful she is and how she makes him question his faith. The audience is supposed to find his innocence and chastity in spite of boners endearing, making it perhaps the most pervy analog to I Kiss Your Hand ever. I know this show is going for the love after tragedy angle, but I can’t help but think it’s a little too convenient that they paired the abstinent Christian with the recently disabled girl. By coupling up the two characters that appear to be the most logically sexually repressed, the narrative supposedly gives them a happy ending while weaseling out of the obligation to show them actually having any physical intimacy that we could expect with any of the other couples. Perhaps in an inadvertent confirmation of this erasure, Quinn and Joe are not shown to be physically affectionate with each other during any point in their pseudo-relationship. Quinn regains the ability to walk after a measly five episodes, declaring herself a viable vixen once more as she returns to make out with Puck for no reason while never mentioning that Joe or her relationship with him existed.

Betty (Ali Stoker) and Artie in Glee

On the opposite end of the sexual expression spectrum, Betty is Emma’s disabled niece who appears for about three quarters of an episode for the sole purpose of having a one night stand with Artie while checking his ego. Artie barely greets her before she shuts him down with a swift “oh hell no.” Artie immediately whines that she is only rejecting him because he’s in a chair, which I must say is the first time I’ve heard internalized ableism as a reason for friendzoning someone. Of course, Glee would never have the chops to explore the social complexity of internalized ableism, especially in a romantic context, so you know right off the bat that we’re going to be treated to an abridged version of the nice guy chasing the uppity bitch.

Accordingly, Betty is 100% sass. She explains that she doesn’t date “losers in chairs” because she’s blonde, captain of the cheerleading squad, and has big boobs. I guess after Quinn, the writers were desperate to show how inclusive they could be, so they decided to make Betty represent every reverse disability stereotype dialed up to 11 in a single sentence. The problem is that reverse stereotypes usually only mock the given community more because they act as a wink wink nudge nudge to the audience that the original stereotypes are true since the reverse is hilariously unfathomable. Everything in this scene, from the way Betty coyly dismisses Artie to Artie’s dumbfounded expression after every new burn is played for laughs. The exchange is horribly uncomfortable to watch because it has the snide, childish undertone of “LOL, look at the disabled people who think they can have standards!” It’s also incredibly troubling and disappointing that Betty’s self-confidence as a disabled woman translates into her perceiving disabled men as unfit objects of desire, sending the message that even people with disabilities themselves view other people with disabilities as incapable of being romantic partners, which only validates the traditional able conception of our community. Why is it that transcending your minority into the social privilege of majority always involves perpetuating harmful stereotypes and internalized hate against your own community?

Betty and Artie at the dance

Artie confronts Betty later, claiming she is a terrible, mean girl who hates her chair. Betty scolds him for playing the disability card and argues that she did not reject him out of any self-loathing, but simply because he’s an idiot. Artie spends most of his time being a misogynistic douchebag, and it’s a shame that only a woman with a disability could come close to legitimately calling him out on it. Since the powers that be would rather light themselves on fire than let their precious white boys face any criticism, we are left with the formulaic nice guy taming the shrew resolution. A silly montage plays as they dance together how able-bodied people think disabled people should dance, which means swiveling their chairs in a lot of fancy complex choreography.

Betty and Artie after their one night stand

Just to hammer home the fact that disabled people are kidding themselves by trying to have a sex life, the post-coitus aftermath shows Artie and Betty sharing a chuckle over the fact that neither of them felt anything, so they can’t possibly determine if the sex was good or not.

So to sum up, women with disabilities are constantly compelled to address the elephant in the room that is their presumably absent sexuality. You are allowed two modes: sad, stoic, and sexless; or cruel, bitchy, and promiscuous. Both are media stereotypes that women have faced before, but it becomes especially problematic when disability is thrown into the mix. No matter how sexually active a given character is, trying to achieve and maintain healthy sexuality is seen as a futile pursuit because disabled people and especially disabled women can never hope to have the “real thing.” Unfortunately, Glee happily perpetuates the myth that the sexuality of ladies with disabilities is either tragic or hilarious for cheap pity or laughs where appropriate.

Ali Stroker and Dani Shay

In an awesome case of life giving the middle finger to art, the (actually disabled!) actress who plays Betty, Ali Stroker, is currently involved in a relationship with fellow former Glee Project contestant Dani Shay. Their relationship is beyond adorable and Dani even wrote a song for her, the music video for which lets us get up close and personal with some pretty sensual moments between the two. It is possible for women with disabilities to be involved in loving, serious relationships, and ironically, the personal life of the very actress Glee attempted to pigeonhole exemplifies just how wrong the media is about disabled sexuality. Like all women, we are perfectly capable of wielding our own sexual agency, and the media needs to start reflecting that.


Erin Tatum is a recent graduate of UC Berkeley, where she majored in film and minored in LGBT studies. She is incredibly interested in social justice, media representation, intersectional feminism, and queer theory. British television and Netflix consume way too much of her time. She is particularly fascinated by the portrayal of sexuality and ability in television. 

2013 Emmy Nominations: Get Your Feminist Commentary Here!

Outstanding Comedy Series

30 Rock (NBC): “Goodbye Forever, 30 Rock“ by Max Thornton

The Big Bang Theory (CBS): “The Evolution of The Big Bang Theory“ by Rachel Redfern

Girls (HBO): “Girls and Sex and the City Both Handle Abortion With Humor” by Megan Kearns

Louie (FX): “Listening and the Art of Good Storytelling in Louis C.K.’s Louie“ by Leigh Kolb

Modern Family (ABC): “‘Pregnancy Brain’ in Sitcoms” by Lady T

Veep (HBO): “Political Humor and Humanity in HBO’s Veep“ by Rachel Redfern

Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series

Jason Bateman, Arrested Development: “Arrested Development‘s Mancession: Economic and Gender Meltdowns in Season 4″ by Leigh Kolb

Jim Parsons, The Big Bang Theory: “Big Bang Bust” by Melissa McEwan

Matt LeBlanc, Episodes

Don Cheadle, House of Lies

Louis C.K., Louie

Alec Baldwin, 30 Rock: “The Casual Feminism of 30 Rock“ by Peggy Cooke

Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series

Laura Dern, Enlightened

Lena Dunham, Girls: “Let’s All Take a Deep Breath and Calm the Fuck Down About Lena Dunham” by Stephanie Rogers

Edie Falco, Nurse Jackie: “Nurse Jackie as Feminist Id?” by Natalie Wilson

Amy Poehler, Parks and Recreation: “Why We Need Leslie Knope and What Her Election on Parks and Rec Means for Women and Girls” by Megan Kearns

Tina Fey, 30 Rock: “Liz Lemon: The Every Woman of Prime Time” by Lisa Mathews

Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Veep

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series

Adam Driver, Girls

Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Modern Family

Ed O’Neill, Modern Family

Ty Burrell, Modern Family

Bill Hader, Saturday Night Live

Tony Hale, Veep

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series

Mayim Bialik, The Big Bang Theory

Jane Lynch, Glee: “Glee!” by Cali Loria

Sofia Vergara, Modern Family

Julie Bowen, Modern Family

Merritt Wever, Nurse Jackie

Jane Krakowski, 30 Rock: “Jane Krakowski and the Dedicated Ignorance of Jenna Maroney” by Kyle Sanders

Anna Chlumsky, Veep

Outstanding Drama Series

Breaking Bad (AMC): “‘Yo Bitch’: The Complicated Feminism of Breaking Bad“ by Leigh Kolb

Downton Abbey (PBS): “A Gilded Cage: A Feminist Critique of the Downton Abbey Christmas Special” by Amanda Civitello

Game of Thrones (HBO): “Gratuitous Nudity and Complex Female Characters in Game of Thrones“ by Lady T

Homeland (Showtime): “Homeland‘s Carrie Mathison: A Pulsing Beat of Jazz and ‘Crazy Genius” by Leigh Kolb

House of Cards (Netflix): “The Complex, Unlikable Women of House of Cards: Daddy Issues, Menopause and Female Power” by Leigh Kolb

Mad Men (AMC): “Mad Men: Gender, Race, and the Death Knell of White Patriarchy” by Leigh Kolb

Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series

Bryan Cranston, Breaking Bad: “Seeking the Alpha in Breaking Bad and Sons of Anarchy“ by Rachel Redfern

Hugh Bonneville, Downton Abbey

Damian Lewis, Homeland

Kevin Spacey, House of Cards

Jon Hamm, Mad Men: “Hey, Brian McGreevy: Vampire Pam Beats Don Draper Any Day” by Tami Winfrey Harris

Jeff Daniels, The Newsroom: “The Newsroom: Misogyny 2.0″ by Leigh Kolb

Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series

Vera Farmiga, Bates Motel

Michelle Dockery, Downton Abbey

Claire Danes, Homeland: “Homeland‘s Carrie Mathison” by Cali Loria

Robin Wright, House of Cards: “Claire Underwood: The Queen Bee on House of Cards“ by
Amanda Rodriguez

Elisabeth Moss, Mad Men: “Mad Men and the Role of Nostalgia” by Amber Leab

Connie Britton, Nashville: “Quote of the Day: Screenwriter/Director Callie Khouri Weighs In on How TV Is Friendlier to Women” by Leigh Kolb

Kerry Washington, Scandal: “Mammy, Sapphire, or Jezebel, Olivia Pope Is Not: A Review of Scandal“ by Atima Omara-Alwala 

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series

Bobby Cannavale, Boardwalk Empire: “Boardwalk Empire: Margaret Thompson, Margaret Sanger, and the Cultural Commentary of Historical Fiction” by Leigh Kolb

Jonathan Banks, Breaking Bad

Aaron Paul, Breaking Bad

Jim Carter, Downton Abbey

Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones: “The Occasional Purposeful Nudity on Game of Thrones“ by Lady T

Mandy Patinkin, Homeland

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series

Anna Gunn, Breaking Bad

Maggie Smith, Downton Abbey

Emilia Clarke, Game of Thrones: “The Mother of Dragons is Taking Down the Patriarchy” by Megan Kearns

Christine Baranski, The Good Wife: “So, Is There Racial Bias on The Good Wife?” by Melanie Wanga

Morena Baccarin, Homeland

Christina Hendricks, Mad Men: “Is Mad Men the Most Feminist Show on TV?” by Megan Kearns

Outstanding Miniseries or Movie
 
American Horror Story: Asylum (FX): “‘That Crazy Bitch’: Women and Mental Illness Tropes in Horror” by Megan Kearns

Behind the Candelabra (HBO)

The Bible (History)

Phil Spector (HBO)

Political Animals (USA)

Top of the Lake (Sundance Channel): “Not Peggy Olson: Rape Culture in Top of the Lake“ by Lauren C. Byrd

Outstanding Lead Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie

Michael Douglas, Behind the Candelabra

Matt Damon, Behind the Candelabra

Toby Jones, The Girl: “Too Many Hitchcocks” by Robin Hitchcock

Benedict Cumberbatch, Parade’s End

Al Pacino, Phil Spector

Outstanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie

Jessica Lange, American Horror Story: Asylum

Laura Linney, The Big C: Hereafter

Helen Mirren, Phil Spector

Sigourney Weaver, Political Animals

Elisabeth Moss, Top of the Lake

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie

James Cromwell, American Horror Story: Asylum

Zachary Quinto, American Horror Story: Asylum

Scott Bakula, Behind the Candelabra

John Benjamin Hickey, The Big C: Hereafter

Peter Mullan, Top of the Lake

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie

Sarah Paulson, American Horror Story: Asylum

Imelda Staunton, The Girl

Ellen Burstyn, Political Animals

Charlotte Rampling, Restless

Alfre Woodard, Steel Magnolias

Outstanding Variety Series

The Colbert Report (Comedy Central)

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (Comedy Central): “YouTube Break: Too Many Dicks on The Daily Show“ by Amber Leab

Jimmy Kimmel Live (ABC)

Late Night With Jimmy Fallon (NBC)

Real Time with Bill Maher (HBO)

Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Outstanding Host for a Reality or Reality-Competition Program

Ryan Seacrest, American Idol

Betty White, Betty White’s Off Their Rockers

Tom Bergeron, Dancing with the Stars

Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn, Project Runway

Cat Deeley, So You Think You Can Dance

Anthony Bourdain, The Taste

Outstanding Reality-Competition Program

The Amazing Race (CBS)

Dancing with the Stars (ABC)

Project Runway (Lifetime)

So You Think You Can Dance (Fox)

Top Chef (Bravo)

The Voice (NBC)

Outstanding Reality Program

Antiques Roadshow (PBS)

Deadliest Catch (Discovery Channel)

Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives (Food Network)

MythBusters (Discovery Channel)

Shark Tank (ABC)

Undercover Boss (CBS)

Outstanding Animated Program

Bob’s Burgers (Fox)

Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness (Nickelodeon)

Regular Show (Cartoon Network)

The Simpsons: “Bart Simpson’s Feminine Side” by Lady T

South Park

Outstanding Guest Actor in a Comedy Series

Bob Newhart, The Big Bang Theory

Nathan Lane, Modern Family

Bobby Cannavale, Nurse Jackie

Louis C.K., Saturday Night Live

Justin Timberlake, Saturday Night Live

Will Forte, 30 Rock


Outstanding Guest Actress in a Comedy Series

Molly Shannon, Enlightened

Dot-Marie Jones, Glee

Melissa Leo, Louie

Melissa McCarthy, Saturday Night Live

Kristen Wiig, Saturday Night Live

Elaine Stritch, 30 Rock

Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series

Nathan Lane, The Good Wife

Michael J. Fox, The Good Wife

Rupert Friend, Homeland

Robert Morse, Mad Men

Harry Hamlin, Mad Men

Dan Bucatinsky, Scandal

Outstanding Guest Actress in a Drama Series

Margo Martindale, The Americans

Diana Rigg, Game of Thrones

Carrie Preston, The Good Wife

Linda Cardellini, Mad Men

Jane Fonda, The Newsroom

Joan Cusack, Shameless

‘Castle’ Part 1: Why Can’t We Just Be Friends?

Castle in on ABC.


Written by Janyce Denise Glasper

An avid fan of most Whedonverse alums, I started watching Castle in the middle of the fourth season to see the charming charismatic Nathan Fillion (Firefly, Buffy, and Dr. Horrible’s Sing- Along Blog) play the title role. Stana Katic–although a new actress to me, is a fantastic choice to play Detective Kate Beckett, a strong, independent, and very smart cop with a ferocious attitude and deliverer of humorous quips and handcuffs to the bad guys.

After Castle’s season five finale in which Beckett has to choose between a great promotion to D.C. and a marriage proposal, it raised a lot of questions about the summer hiatus. Why should she risk an opportunity to enhance her talented skills on a chance to become wife number three? Why are fans outraged and painting her selfish if she chose the power move over love? Most importantly, how did her relationship with Castle get to this point of wedding bells?

In television, there are far too many serials where the two leads get together–often at the workplace. This simply showcases that men and women cannot work in close quarters without “love” getting in the way. It leaves writers to play too much on the “will they or won’t they?” device which can muddle an entire episode. More often than not, they get the answer wrong (Mulder and Scully still comes to mind). Chemistry is a good thing to have, but why must it always be addressed as a sexual one? Why can’t men and women be friends at the workplace? Kate has beers with her male colleagues before and after Castle shows up. Why can’t he just be one more face across the bar?

Now I’ve finished watching the first two seasons of Castle–all 34 episodes over the course of a weekend and can honestly say that I’m not quite buying a passage on the “Caskett” train yet. Banter between the leads is fun to watch, and Fillion has an intriguing engagement with Katic.
And the opening premise isn’t hard to swallow.

Castle (Nathan Fillion) is a little too enthused over being interrogated by Kate (Stana Katic).

Famed crime novelist Richard Castle is a man surrounded by women. He lives with Alexis, his teenage genius daughter, and Martha, his mother–a Broadway actress who has to stay at his humble abode because an ex spent her entire savings. One of Castle’s former wives (he has two) happens to be his publicist and Alexis’s mother. He is at a point in his life where things are coming to a mundane standstill. Until Detective Kate Beckett, a secret Castle book fan, has a few questions for him. After getting a taste of helping the police aide in a case, thanks to a friendship with the mayor, he gets to stick around much to Beckett’s displeasure and announces that he plans to pen a book starring his new inspiration–Detective Kate Beckett.
That’s already two strikes in many of Castle’s interferences. 

Kate (Stana Katic) flashes her badge of honor.

While Castle is surrounded by women, emotionally guarded Kate is nestled in a man’s world. Her boss is Captain Roy Montgomery, and her two buddies are partners Detective Kevin Ryan and Detective Javier Esposito. She decided to become a cop because her mother was violently murdered, and for years she had run her own private investigation but ultimately decided to stop. She is drawn to strange cases, gets them solved in a matter of forty minutes with help from her friends and even Castle, who frequently spins his writer fictions yet shows off an incredible knack for crime resolution.

Castle does, however, add innuendo to conversations and is often too suggestive, but Kate doesn’t seem to mind lighting his fuses. Still not seeing the “love” here. Maybe it’s too early. Just a humorous camaraderie between a cop and a man that annoys her for fun. He brings charming wit and coffee into her gritty life, but it doesn’t change who he is at the end of the day–a big kid. He plays games with his daughter and sleeps around frequently, but every time a man shows interest in Kate, his bear claws come out. “No one touches my muse,” his expression says to these men who then always ask Kate–“Is there something going on between you two?”

At the end of season one, Castle coordinates his own investigation into Beckett’s mom’s murder (which she strictly forbade), and it angers her so much that she wants him gone.
Strike three.

Everyone wants Beckett (Stana Katic) to date Castle (Nathan Fillion) because he follows her around like a puppy.

However, Beckett’s friends just want her to be with Castle (because she’s beautiful, young, and lonely yadda yadda yadda!), and he gets compliments aplenty all around the precinct. Medical examiner Lanie Parish often tells Kate to give Castle a chance although it’s not clear why she does, having barely shared a few scenes with him. Also, I don’t think I would ever advise a friend to date a man staring hard at my cleavage and having conversations with them. Plus, why is it so wrong for Beckett to stay single? Lanie is too!

“Why do you think he keeps following you around? I’m sure it’s not to watch you be with another man.” –Detective Javier Esposito

Yet Beckett should continue seeing Castle flock to his women? Ugh!
From A Deadly Game, season two’s finale, Detective Javier Esposito says the above statement. It’s insensitive considering the fact that Kate has started dating a nice someone–a former co-worker and friend of his, Demming. It gets nastier when Castle keeps asking Kate to spend the summer at his Hamptons home knowing this. By the end of the episode she dumps Demming (who sadly doesn’t understand why) and is shyly on the verge of asking Castle out, but bam! He springs out his ex-wife, saying that she is his Hamptons last-minute companion. Kate is left embarrassed, and her nosy friends are watching through the glass.

This irksome moment defined Castle’s selfishness and vanity. Prior to the finale, in the episode Overkill, his ego wanted to win a case and went to battle with Demming in a disgusting showing of oversized macho testosterone. The finale further revealed just how vile his intentions were and made him pretty much unlikable for a strong woman like Kate.

Use us all: Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Roy),  Susan Sullivan (Martha), Molly Quinn (Alexis), Nathan Fillion (Castle), Stana Katic (Kate), Tamala Jones (Lanie), Jon Huertas (Esposito), and Seamus Dever (Ryan).
Castle has such a diverse cast, but creator Andrew Marlowe barely uses them all in one episode because he’s spending too much time building up Caskett. Yes. It’s a difficult challenge dealing with a large amount of actors, but each character is important in every aspect of the story–from the murder scene to the morgue to the precinct to Castle’s house (weird fit but this is his point of view). Here’s hoping that in the next three seasons of catch up that stories utilize characters outside of Castle and Beckett and, of course, answer the big question of whether I hop on the Caskett train or the casket bus. Male and female friends can work together. It’s just in the television world they seem to always want more. 

Here’s a Fun and Depressing Graphic About Television, Ratings, and Dudes Who Create Shows

Canceled: Single Season TV Shows – An infographic by the team at CableTV.com

 
Do you have any graphics you’d like to share with Bitch Flicks readers? Share them in the comments or email them to btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com!
 
 
 

Nothing Can Save ‘The Walking Dead’s Sexist Woman Problem

Michonne in The Walking Dead

Written by Megan Kearns | Warning: spoilers ahead! 

So the season 3 finale of The Walking Dead. What can I say? Is there less sexism than last season’s appalling anti-abortion storyline with Lori’s pregnancy? Did the addition of badass Michonne change the gender dynamics?

I’m going to warn you right now. This post isn’t going to be pretty. Not with all the misogyny. When it comes to its female characters and depiction of gender, The Walking Deadhas progressively deteriorated. It incessantly pisses me off with its rearticulation of patriarchy and sexist gender tropes. And no, it’s not a commentary on patriarchy. Rather it’s a defense of hyper-masculinity.
I’ve written before about The Walking Dead’s shitty job portraying women and its depiction of sexist retro gender roles. I was finally excited when Michonne (Danai Gurira) arrived as we hadn’t witnessed a fierce woman in any leadership role yet. Finally, we would see a fearless, powerful, clever, complex female character. And a woman of color! Yet I remained skeptical due to the tissue thin female characters and all of the sexism contaminating the show in the previous two seasons. My prediction came true: Michonne couldn’t save the show’s sexism.
In the comics, Michonne is a fan favorite. She’s complex, interesting, with resiliency and strength. Sadly we get little of that same warrior woman in the TV series. Yes, she’s a badass. Yes, she’s adept with a sword. But that’s pretty much it.
Michonne enters the show in an aura of mystery. Cloaked, sword-wielding, holding the chains of two Walkers. But typically we need to see beneath the veneer in order to care about a character. But we haven’t been allowed in to her backstory at all. We need to see their vulnerabilities, weaknesses, struggles, hopes. Even awesome Daryl is given moments to shine, like when he grieves for his brother Merle or holds baby Judith, nicknaming her Little Ass-Kicker. The only time we witness anything of the sort in Michonne is when she holds Andrea (Laurie Holden) in a tender embrace in the finale — before Andrea commits suicide to avert zombiehood – and we get a glimpse in the episode when Michonne protects Carl and reveals to Rick that she hears voices too, letting him know he’s not alone.
When we first meet Michonne, she saves Andrea, serving as a “black caretaker,” perilously playing out the “Magical Negro” trope. Even her friendship with Andrea became a missed opportunity, barely explored, something Laurie Holden, the actor who plays Andrea, laments as well. Michonne is regarded with suspicion by Rick’s Prison Camp Crew, even though other people, like the inmates, were considered to be “one of them.” And yes, I’m aware that they eventually bestow this distinction onto Michonne as well. But only after Carl — a 13-year-old boy — says so. When a teenaged boy gets more respect than the grown-ass women??? Can’t. Even. Deal.
When it comes to the potential for female leaders, the series does have Michonne who not only survived alone but also saved Andrea. But why must Michonne have to prove her worth in relation to saving Andrea, Carl or Rick — all the white characters? Michonne essentially proves her worth not by being a strong survivor, not through intelligence, not through empathy — but by how she rescues and serves white people on the show.
So how were the other women depicted this season?
Andrea in The Walking Dead
I know Andrea pissed off a ton of people with her ridiculous decisions. She continually annoyed me…and I liked her! I mean, c’mon, am I really supposed to believe such a smart woman would make such stupid choices when it came to men? Choosing psychopaths Shane AND the Governor?? Oh wait, women do choose shitty dudes in real life. But the problem here isn’t that Andrea makes the worst romantic choices; I mean who hasn’t made horrendous decisions?

No, the problem is that Andrea’s life didn’t revolve around her friendship with Michonne, the woman who saved her, or her friendships with the people at the prison. Ultimately, the outspoken woman who strived to make the moral choice, a woman who was a lawyer before the zombie apocalypse, her life eventually revolved around dudes. Correction, in season 3, just one dude: The Governor. That’s right, the same dude who sexually assaulted another female character.
In probably the most heinous act of the season, in the episode “When the Dead Come Knocking,” Maggie (Lauren Cohan) and Glenn have been captured by the Governor. The Governor separates the two of them and interrogates Maggie alone. But his interrogation quickly dissolves into full on sexual assault. He terrorizes her. He forces her to undress. He bends her over and slams her against a table. He threatens her with rape. He uses intimidation and humiliation to exert his power and dominance.
Sexual assault should never be used as a plot device. What purpose did this incident serve? To show what an unhinged, misogynistic douchebag The Governor is? Perhaps. But it was completely unnecessary. And don’t tell me that Michonne is raped in the comics so what Maggie endures isn’t that big a deal because it was just the threat of rape. Yeah, it’s a big fucking deal. Women are raped and sexually assaulted and harassed daily. Our rape culture normalizes violence against women and conflates violence with sexuality.

It’s also interesting to note that the writers changed the sexual assault survivor from a black woman to a white woman. Too often, the media erases the narratives of black women rape and assault survivors, choosing to focus on white women survivors.

Maggie in The Walking Dead
Maggie started off last season so ballsy and opinionated. But she’s devolved as the show progresses to being fairly deferential to Glenn. If she became quieter, more withdrawn and introverted after the trauma of her sexual assault, that would make sense. But her passivity started happening long ago. Maggie, who was promoted to series regular this season, was given nothing of a storyline other than hot sex with Glenn and surviving the trauma of sexual assault. And we only get a brief moment where she lashes out at Glenn because of that trauma. The rest of the time, we see how it affects Glenn, not Maggie. As if it matters more how the Governor’s rape tendencies impact Glenn (the dude) more than Maggie, the one assaulted.
And the depiction of masculinity is problematic too. Glenn wasn’t “a real man” until he was tortured. And let’s not forget that Glenn is an Asian American man which plays into the pervasive stereotype that depicts Asian American men as emasculated in U.S. media.
But women aren’t just punished with sexual assault, but also by death. Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) doesn’t have a huge role this season. She argues with Rick and Carl and laments to Hershel that they hate her. She worries that something will go wrong and she’ll die in childbirth. Which she does. When she’s losing a lot of blood, she asks Maggie to perform a C-section, knowing she will bleed out. Then Lori is killed by her son, aka potential-sociopath-in-training Carl, so she won’t come back as a walker. Lori must be punished for her infidelity (and insipid annoyance) in the previous seasons. And so she dies. Shameful slut!

In addition to Lori’s death, we also have Andrea — who’s an excellent shot and warrior, and never would have gotten bit — bitten by Mitch. She then dies by a self-inflicted gunshot to the head so she won’t become a walker. Will Andrea’s death catalyze vulnerability in Michonne? Or will it be leveraged to show how Rick and the other dudes handle pain??
Now, I’m not saying that female characters can’t or shouldn’t die. It’s a zombie apocalypse. Of course there’s going to be brutal deaths. But when the women’s deaths exist as a vehicle to convey the pain of the men, that’s a problem.

Lori and Carl in The Walking Dead
What we’re witnessing with the women of The Walking Dead is the Women in Refrigerators Syndrome — women killed, raped, stripped of their power — in order to propel the plot and show the progression and struggles of the male characters. Also, as T.S. Christian told me on Twitter, in a Black Girl Nerds podcast, @TheRayVolution astutely asserted that women always die to illustrate the horrendous state of the world.
Again, it’s all about the men. The women, even the awesome ones, are nothing more than props to propel the male characters’ emotional journeys and transformations.
So what about the other women on the show? Thankfully, we’re starting to see Carol in a more assertive role. She speaks up and voices her opinion and seems to be more resourceful. We also meet Sasha, a good shot who teases her brother Tyreese. Oh yeah and then there’s the blond girl, Maggie’s sister, whose name I can’t even remember, that’s how unforgettable she is. Why? Because all she does is sing and hold the baby. Seriously.
None of the women are truly respected on the show. None of their opinions are valued or considered. When Rick has a problem, he confides in Hershel and Darryl. He listens to their advice. None of the women sway him. And of course none of the women lead, nor can we even consider them as leaders, as we saw when Glenn talked about how he was second in command. Um, okay.
So why can’t ladies lead in a post-apocalyptic world? Well according to Robert Kirkman, it’s science. I shit you not. In fact The Walking Dead comics creator and TV producer/writer said in an interview:
“I don’t mean to sound sexist, but as far as women have come over the last 40 years, you don’t really see a lot of women hunters. They’re still in the minority in the military, and there’s not a lot of female construction workers. I hope that’s not taken the wrong way. I think women are as smart, resourceful, and capable in most things as any man could be … but they are generally physically weaker. That’s science.”
Here’s a hint to all you mansplainers out there. It’s never, ever, ever a good idea to start your statement with “I don’t mean to sound sexist.” Why? Because clearly you’re about to drop some shit that is indeed sexist. So women remain a minority in the military and as construction workers because of science. You know, not because of sexist gender prejudices about women’s physical abilities. Right. Silly me. Why didn’t I think of science??? Must be because of my ladyparts.
Now to be fair, that interview was about the comics and it transpired 4 years ago. But as evidenced by the repetition of sexist tomfoolery in the TV series, which is interesting considering the depiction of women is much better in the comics, Kirkman obviously hasn’t changed his stance on gender. Nor have any of the other TV writers apparently. It explains so much.
Hmmm so which season is worse? The season 2 horrendous handling of emergency contraception and its anti-abortion plotline? Or is it Season 3 with sexual assault used as a plot device and women dying to propel men’s emotional journeys? It’s all bullshit.
It’s very apparent The Walking Dead doesn’t care about exploring gender dynamics in any meaningful way or deconstructing gender roles to explore societal limitations. And to an extent that’s fine. Not everything has to be some massive social commentary. Although believe me, I’d be delighted. But as I’ve written before, when you’re dealing in the realm of fantasy or playing with the bounds of reality, why depict sexism? Why not imagine something different?
And don’t even get me started on the idiotic argument, “Well, that’s life. That’s what would happen during an apocalypse of any kind.” I call bullshit. Am I really supposed to believe that if the shit hits the fan, women can’t or won’t be able to pull themselves together and not only survive but take leadership roles? Obviously that’s ludicrous.
With Robert Kirkman reinforcing the notion that sexism builds the foundation of the series, my hope that The Walking Dead will improve regarding its depiction of women, race and gender has shattered. So I’ll stop hoping it will get better and just keep on hate-watching it.

In ‘Game of Thrones’ the Mother of Dragons Is Taking Down the Patriarchy

While many women orchestrate machinations behind the scenes, no woman is openly a leader, boldly challenging patriarchy to rule. Except for one. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

Emilia Clarke as Daenerys in Game of Thrones

Written by Megan Kearns for our Infertility, Miscarriage and Infant Loss Week. | Warning: Spoilers ahead!

When I first wrote about Game of Thrones two years ago, I wrote about its vacillation between showcasing strong, intelligent female characters and its sexist objectification and misogynistic rape culture.

I received an exorbitant amount of comments on my criticism of the show — even though I simultaneously lauded its brilliant acting and interesting characters and dialogue. Some told me I didn’t understand anything about the show. Others told me to wait, just wait as it would get better. While the show suffers serious problems, particularly in its sexposition and depiction of graphic female nudity, as the show has progressed, it has indeed become more and more feminist.

We witness more of the women expressing their disdain for their lot in life due to their gender. We see women buck gender norms (Arya, Brienne, Yara Greyjoy) and we see women scheme to surreptitiously assert their power (Margaery Tyrell, Cersei Lannister, Olenna Redwyne) or even just to better their lot in life (Shae, Ros, Sansa).

While many women orchestrate machinations behind the scenes, no woman is openly a leader, boldly challenging patriarchy to rule. Except for one. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

When I first wrote about Dany (Emilia Clarke), I was captivated by her. She drew me in immediately and became my favorite character. I loved watching her transformation from meek and timid, bullied by her creepy brother Viserys, to a powerful yet kind-hearted Khaleesi (Queen). Each episode she grows more bold and assertive. Yet she continually strives to be fair and just. Watching her growth has been the most enjoyable aspect of the series.

Daenerys marries Khal Drogo in an arranged marriage in order to secure Viserys, rightful heir to the Iron Throne after the murder of their father the king, an army so he can claim the throne. Viserys uses Dany, telling her he would have all 40,000 Dothraki rape her if it garnered him an army. Nice guy.

After a rapey wedding night (Sorrynotsorry, fans. It is), Daenerys and Drogo eventually form a bond and fall in love with one another. (I know, I know, but bare with me). Dany grows more confident and assertive both with her sexuality and her authoritativeness in giving the khalasar (clan or tribe) commands. Months later, when Viserys hits her, she hits him back and tells him if he strikes her again, she will have his hands cut off.

When Dany becomes pregnant with a son, she eventually convinces her husband to cross the sea, something the Dothraki fear, in order to claim the Iron Throne and rule. Both Daenerys and Drogo believe their son Rhaego will be the heir to the throne, calling him the “Stallion Who Mounts the World,” because according to a Dothraki prophecy he will be a great khal (king) of khals, uniting the Dothraki as one khalasar (clan or tribe) and conquer the world.

Game of Thrones

After Khal Drogo’s khalasar conquer a village, Daenerys — growing more confident and outspoken — prevents the men from raping the enslaved women. When challenged by her husband, she boldly defends her decision, trying to advocate for the women’s rights. Rather than crediting his wife’s penchant for advocacy, Drogo tells her she grows fierce as their son grows in her womb, “filling her with fire.”

But after her husband has a wound, Mirri Maz Duur an enslaved shaman whose life Dany spares, treats his injury. Yet he falls deathly ill. Mirri tells Dany how to save him, by using blood magic, something forbidden by the Dothraki. Dany follows her instructions. Yet she goes into labor and passes out. When Dany awakens, her advisor Jorah tells her that her son was born dead and deformed with scales. She’s been “rewarded” by having Drogo a shell of his former self in a catatonic state. When Dany confronts the shaman, asking when she will be reunited with her husband, Mirri replies:

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”

Mirri’s spell took the life of Daenerys’ unborn son as revenge for the Dothraki attack on her village. Also inherent is an infertility curse, that Dany will not have any of her own children. She loses the lives of both her husband and her unborn child.

With nothing left to lose, Daenerys resolves to make a bold and drastic decision which showcases her resolve and empowerment. As Angela Smith wrote on bereaved mothers at Bitch Flicks:

“It’s not uncommon for women to feel empowered to make drastic changes after losing a child. They may, understandably, become far less tolerant of others due to the realization nobody at all can break them down any further than they’ve already been broken.”

Dany has one of her Khalasaar place 3 dragon eggs she was given as a wedding present on the pyre. As the fire burns, she steps into the flames, despite the protestations of Jorah. In the morning, a new day has dawned. Dany emerges from the ashes unharmed, and the eggs have hatched with the 3 dragons perched on her body.

Daenerys becomes the Mother of Dragons

 

But now that she has lost her son, Daenerys decides she will take the Iron Throne herself and rule the Seven Kingdoms. After all the men in her life — her husband, son and brother — have died, she claims the throne for her own.

Dany becomes the metaphorical phoenix rising from the ashes, purging the last vestiges of her former timidity to transition into her life as a powerful leader.

At the end of season one, I’ll admit I worried that her magical powers were somehow explaining away her awesomeness. But now I see that no, it’s merely to highlight the importance of her role in Game of Thrones — as a woman leader challenging sexism.

Daenerys is continually called the Mother of Dragons, spoken with awe and reverence. In many cases, women are allowed to lead or be ruthless as lioness mothers. And while Dany lost her son, and she may be cursed with infertility by Mirri, she still remains a mother figure. She envisions herself as the mother to her 3 dragons. In the second season’s episode “Prince of Winterfell,” Dany’s dragons are kidnapped in the city of Qarth. When Jorah tells her to abandon them, that they are not her children, and escape, Dany replies:

“A mother does not flee without her children…They are my children, and they are the only children I will everhave.”

 

Daenerys risks her life to save her dragons, and they save her life and free her when she’s captured as well. The mysterious masked woman Quaithe tells Jorah that “dragons are fire made flesh…and fire is power.” Daenerys has given birth to power. Power contains a duality – it can subjugate and torment or it can crush oppression and yield justice.

Speaking with confident assuredness, Daenerys tells those that doubt her:

“When my dragons are grown, we will take back what was stolen from me and destroy those who have wronged me! We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground!…I will take what is mine, with fire and blood!”

 

In season 3, after having survived the treacheries in the city of Qarth, Daenerys looks to procure an army in the city of Astapor in order to take the Iron Throne. Despite her steeliness, she has not lost her kindness. She tries to give water to a dying slave. She doesn’t hide her horror and disgust during negotiations when she hears that murdering a newborn in front of the infant’s mother is a component of the training for the highly skilled slave warriors, the Unsullied. To her advisors, she expresses her unease over buying slaves for an army. She doesn’t want the “blood of innocents” on her hands.

Daenerys with advisors Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Selmy

 

In last week’s episode “And Now His Watch Is Ended,” Game of Thrones turned a corner in perhaps the most feminist episode of the series.

Daenerys makes a trade for all 8,000 Unsullied warriors, appearing as if she’s going to give up her dragon Drogon to make the exchange. But it’s all a ruse. When the brutal slaver Kraznys — who has insulted Dany with sexist, slut-shaming insults, erroneously thinking she didn’t understand the Valeryian language — is irritated that her dragon doesn’t obey him, she retorts that of course he doesn’t, “a dragon is a not a slave.” Dany then orders the Unsullied, now in her command, to murder the slavers and break the chains off the slaves. She frees the enslaved warriors, asking them to fight for her as free men. Daenerys then drops the whip equating ownership of the slaves. In essence, she drops the symbolic weapon of tyranny and oppression, heralding rebellion.

If there was ever any question, Daenerys is clearly here to dismantle the patriarchy.

Not only is she a woman leader, her very existence challenging the status quo. But Daenerys openly questions and challenges patriarchal norms. She refuses to abide by societal gender limitations mandating men must rule. She’s determined to forge a different path. Rather than follow in the footsteps of leaders embodying toxic masculinity, she’s determined to rule through respect, kindness and fairness — not through intimidation or fear. Daenerys refuses to enslave people. She wants to emancipate them.

The Mother of Dragons cares for the dragons as if they were her own babies. Could it be that Daenerys will become the archetypal mother of humanity? Perhaps. She’s wielding justice, crushing oppression and protecting the weak. Yet it is the loss of her son that enables Daenerys to envision herself in the role of leader. No longer is she supporting a man to be a great leader. She has become that leader.

The princess has become a queen.

Dany being a badass. Boom.