Tag: The Artist

Women & Gender at the 2012 Indie Spirit Awards

(L-R): ‘Pariah’ Producer Nekisa Cooper & Writer/Director Dee Rees, winning John Cassavetes Award

So I groaned the moment I discovered Seth Rogen was hosting the Independent Spirit Awards, which aired last Saturday night on IFC. I mean, after his shitshow appearance at the Golden Globes, making that sexual harassment comment to Kate Beckinsale on-stage, I’m all set with him. When announcer director John Waters (yep, you read that right) said he had “an erection just saying his name,” I thought for sure the show would be a sexist bonanza. Luckily, the Spirit Awards were fairly free of sexism and some interesting gender commentaries emerged.

In Rogen’s opening monologue, he humorously deemed actor Michael Shannon “looking creepy” (ha!) but also went on a “dick” tirade dissecting Michael Fassbender’s full frontal nudity in Shame. Rogen talked about how awards shows unveiled director Brett Ratner’s racism and bigotry, all while criticizing the Grammys for exalting a domestic violence abuser. He said:
“I honestly bet though Ratner really wishes he was organizing the Grammys because they seem much more forgiving than the Oscars altogether. Seriously, you say a few hateful things they don’t let you within a few hundred yards of the Oscars. You could literally beat the shit out of a nominee they ask you to perform twice at the Grammys.”

Now, I love, love, love celebs condemning domestic violence abusers like Chris Brown (keep it up Miranda Lambert!). But I’m all set with DV jokes. However, Rogen’s joke was more of a commentary on the utter ridiculousness of the Grammys glorifying Chris Brown (who mind you, is still on probation for another fucking 2 years! Ugh) rather than exploiting survivors.
There were some other great moments in the show, including presenters Kirsten Dunst and Jonah Hill who were surprisingly silly and funny together (hmmm…did somebody have a few too many cocktails??). But my fave quote of the night came when Rogen talked about his love of Albert Nobbs and Glenn Close’s “fucking awesome” performance:
“They say there’s no good roles left for women. Which is bullshit, there is. You just have to play a man.”

An astute observation on the glaring gender disparity in film.

(L-R): Best Supporting Female & Male Winners Shailene Woodley (‘The Descendants’) & Christopher Plummer (‘Beginners’)

In the Best Supporting Female category, the roles consist of a mother of a cancer-stricken son (Angelica Huston, 50/50), a woman living as a man (Janet McTeer, Albert Nobbs), a stay-at-home mother whose husband is struggling with demons (Jessica Chastain, Take Shelter), a transgender woman whose father has returned from prison (Harmony Santana, Gun Hill Road), and a young woman whose mother is dying (Shailene Woodley, The Descendants). Both McTeer and winner Woodley gave phenomenal performances.
Of the Best Female Lead nominees, all of the roles featured were in female-focused films. The characters comprise a “poverty stricken” single mother (Lauren Ambrose, Think of Me), a girl who escapes a cult (Elizabeth Olsen, Martha Marcy May Marlene), a religious woman bonding with her husband’s illegitimate son (Natural Selection), Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams, My Week with Marilyn), and a young lesbian African-American woman exploring her sexuality and finding her identity (Adepero Oduye, Pariah). Sadly, Oduye was the only woman of color nominated in this category.

Best Female Lead Winner Michelle Williams (‘My Week with Marilyn’)

When Michelle Williams won, in her endearing acceptance speech, she talked about being an outcast and finding acceptance. She said:


“I first came to the Independent Spirit Awards 10 years ago and I wore my own clothes which were not very good. And I cut my own hair which was also not very good. I remember, I still remember the feeling in this room, unlike others, that was okay. Possibly even preferred. And what I thought then, and still feel now, it’s because this is a room filled with misfits, outcasts, loners, dreamers, mumblers, delinquents, dropouts, just like me!

“I want to say thank you for supporting me and welcoming me and making me feel at home in this room and in this community all the way back then and now, when the only thing that I own that I’m wearing is my dignity.”

Now, I can’t really picture Williams an outcast or delinquent. But I liked that she talked about individuality and acceptance, as well as a commentary on beauty.
So the nominated performances embodied interesting, complex female characters. But what about the screenplays and films nominated? Did they boast women behind the scenes or female-focused films?
In the Best First Feature category, only 1 film, the strangely intriguing and tragic Another Earth featured a female writer or director (actress Britt Marling co-wrote and co-produced). But 3 of the 5 nominees revolved around female protagonists (Another Earth, Martha Marcy May Marlene, Natural Selection). Yet none of these won. As Molly McCaffrey tweeted:
“Margin Call, a movie about a bunch of Wall Street d-bags, beats Another Earth, a movie about a complicated woman #SHOCKING.”

I couldn’t agree more.
Despite illusions that Hollywood is oh so liberal, films usually depict white, straight characters and couples. But several films nominated for Spirit Award contained LGBTQ themes: Pariah, Beginners, Gun Hill Road, In the Family, Circumstance and the documentary We Were Here. Christopher Plummer won Best Supporting Male for his touching performance as a father coming out of the closet at 75 in Beginners and Harmony Santana became the first trans actress to be nominated for a major Hollywood award.
The Oscars completely overlooked THE best film of 2011, Pariah, an exquisitely beautiful film about a young lesbian woman of color asserting her identity. Thankfully, the Spirit Awards didn’t. Awarded to films with budgets of $500,000 or less, Pariah won the John Cassavetes Award! WOO HOO!!! What’s interesting about this category is that it boasted two nominees written and directed by women with plots focusing on lesbians of color (Pariah, Circumstance). Writer/director Dee Rees made me laugh when she said:
“Any Saturday where you get to wear a sparkly hoodie and drink two whiskeys before noon is fucking awesome.”

Right on! Then she thanked the amazing Adepero Oduye and the other Pariah actors:
“It’s about performance above all else.”

Pariah Producer Nekisa Cooper talked at the Athena Film Festival about the importance of supporting “women in front of the camera and behind the camera” because there aren’t enough women in film. Winning the Cassavetes Award, she said:
“It took a village to make this film.”

Aside from Pariah and the gender designated acting categories, where are the women?
Of the Best Screenplay nominees, all were written by men with movies all revolving around men. At least The Artist had Peppy Miller and Best Screenplay winner The Descendants (based on Kaui Hart Hemmings’ novel) had sisters Alex and Scottie. But even those 2 films still revolved around men. Of the Best First Screenplay nominees, only 1 woman, Britt Marling as co-writer (Another Earth), was nominated. But Will Reiser won for 50/50 won.
Sadly, none of the Best Director nominees were women. Even amongst the Best Documentary nominees, only 1 had a female director (Daniele Anastasion, General Butt Naked) and documentaries usually boast more female filmmakers.
The absolute best part of the night was lady duo Garfunkel and Oates. “Comedy folk singers” Riki Lindhome (Garfunkel) and Kate Micucci (Oates) gave a “morbidly funny” tribute to each of the 5 Best Feature nominees. They summed up all of the nominees with:
“You’ve got the spirit of murders, coma, cancer, schizophrenia, cancer, suicide, independence and dreams.”

 Adorbs, quirky, hilarious…just watch. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.
What Garfunkel and Oates didn’t mention is that you could also sum up all the movies like this…men. All the Best Feature nominees revolved around male characters or were told from a male protagonist’s perspective. Now, I really liked Best Feature winner The Artist. I loved that Peppy Miller (Bernice Bejo) was never rescued…she was the harbinger of her own success and destiny. And of course I adored Uggie the Dog (cute overload!). But even The Artist still ultimately revolved around George Valentin…a man’s dreams, a man’s failures, a man’s perspective.
Announcer John Waters ended the Spirit Awards with this command:
“Now go out there and make your damn movie!”

I love this rousing call to action…that anyone can and should follow their dream of making movies. It got me thinking that more women need to create films. They need to write, direct, film, produce and act. Women need to flood the studios with their creations. But the cynic in me couldn’t help but wonder, what’s the point if the films made by women aren’t even making it to theatres and not being awarded with accolades?
I was happy to see the Spirit Awards weren’t bogged down by sexism. But I erroneously assumed they would award more ladies in film, in front of and behind the camera.  I just wish more women, other than the gendered categories, and female-focused films had won. Hollywood, even amongst indie circles, keeps perpetuating the dude machine.

Oscar and Indie Spirit Best Picture Nominee: The Artist: "Peppy Miller, Wonder Woman"

This is a guest review by Candice Frederick.
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You know what they say—behind every man is a great woman.
And that’s made evident in the 1920s nostalgia-soaked silent film, The Artist. Although the movie beautifully captures the difficult fall of silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) from Hollywoodland heavyweight to Hollywoodland has-been, the movie’s heart lies with his heroine, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo).
We first meet Peppy as a face in the crowd, scrambling to catch a glimpse of the one, the only George Valentin on the red carpet. Amid the glitz and glamour of the paparazzi swarming Hollywoodland’s biggest star, we see a “regular” girl. In fact, it’s Peppy’s ambiguity that sets her apart from said crowd. While all the other female fans are elbowing each other to get a chance to see their idol strike a pose on the red carpet, Peppy works her way to the front of the pack and just watches George, studying him. It’s like she sees the man behind the star, a man hidden from everyone else. A man she knocks off his feet.
That’s the thing about Peppy—it’s her authenticity that charms audiences. Unlike George’s man-made celebrity, which seduces his loveliest fans, Peppy’s unflinching compassion for those around her downright enchants the audience.
In that way, Peppy becomes George’s guardian angel. When his career begins to slide downhill, and his once marqueed name can’t even fill up a full row of seats at a theater, Peppy is the only one by his side, his number one fan when he has no one left. She picks him up when he hits rock bottom, when his pride stunts his career from forging ahead. As their careers see-saw one another, it is Peppy who remains the emotional compass throughout the entire film, the one who gets what George refuses to get.
This natural clairvoyance propels her own film ambitions. Peppy’s career skyrockets into superstardom, but, with the exception of one significant scene where she tries to play up her career by essentially downplaying those who came before her (like George), she remains unaffected by the Hollywood allure. It’s fascinating to watch a charismatic leading lady remain grounded even after her career takes off.

And it’s even more interesting to see her come to the rescue of her masculine counterpart, even if he did become a washed up star by the time of his rescuing. That’s something that would have never happened during the era the film is set in. In fact, Peppy would have more than likely have been drawn as a mere shallow competitor to George’s steadfast—however delusional—career. Since she was not written that way, it gives this wistful film the modern boost it needs to stand out.
But The Artist doesn’t just paint Peppy as George Valentin’s superhero. Peppy is also a trailblazing woman on her own. Much like many George before her, she knows how to play to a crowd and to the hungry paparazzi. She became such a power player in Hollywood that she was able to negotiate George’s reacceptance into Tinseltown after threatening to drop out of a project herself. That’s major move for a film actress, a bold one her part (that ended up paying off).
Peppy is that person you want in your corner—a bubbly (but not annoyingly so), impossibly adorable, smart, caring person with a good head on her shoulders. She never gets involved in any overblown scandal in order to get her name up in lights. She doesn’t sleep her way to the top of the Hollywood food chain. She never had to. All she was interested in was being a good friend, becoming an actor like her idol George, and spreading happiness to everyone along her path.
This all plays to the deep complexities of her character, which go far beyond uplifting the lead male character. Peppy is a strong character by herself, without even relating to George. They are both equally rounded characters who supply the substance in a movie that’s heightened by their stories and the actors who play them. Their relationship helps stack every layer of this film, therefore elevating it past its seemingly cursory exterior.
While we never really learn much information about Peppy’s background (she remains mostly anonymous on that front throughout the entire film), somehow we still feel as though she gives us a window to her soul. You relate to her, you empathize with her, and you cheer for her each time she steps in front of the camera. In short, Peppy has that likability factor that fans crave. How can they not? She practically waltzes from scene to scene and, before we know it, we’re smitten by her magic.
Although this season’s awards race may have you under the impression that Peppy is indeed a supporting character, Bejo’s performance of her will have you believing differently. Bejo brings out all the key qualities of Peppy in a performance that’s not emotionally powerful, but emotionally resounding nonetheless.
Even in silence, you hear the tapping of her shoes, the pep in her step, and her infectious laugh. How can a film with no words emit such a roaring character? Put Bejo front and center and she becomes one with the music. Every sympathetic look, impossibly happy reaction and playful gesture becomes a full fledged sympathy with Bejo. She doesn’t need any words, because the audience just knows. And, you know what, she and us are right here.
Too often people equate a good performance to one that’s grandiose, a powerhouse portrayal. Though some of those performances are in fact riveting, Bejo’s performance isn’t less so. She sparkles as Peppy, bringing out her magnetism as the gargantuan starlet she becomes, while also humanizing her and keeping her grounded. In other words, you take Peppy out of the City of Angels and she’d still be the same Peppy, girl wonder. Superhero to George Valentin, fallen star.

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Candice Frederick is an NABJ award-winning print journalist, film critic, and blogger for Reel Talk. She is also the co-host of Blog Talk Radio’s “Cinema in Noir.”