Women in a Man’s World: ‘Mad Men’ and the Female Gaze

In fact, many of the clients grow to appreciate the benefit of the female gaze, making their products truly (for the most part) appealing to women. This makes more profit than the false patriarchal ideas of a woman’s wants and needs. With the character of Peggy, Weiner is able to let us see the advertising world from the female gaze to criticize the falsehood that lies in selling female products with a male gaze.


This guest post by Caroline Madden appears as part of our theme week on The Female Gaze.


Mad Men is a remarkable portrayal of the 1960s that explores the office and home lives of workers in the New York City advertising industry over the course of a decade. The 60s was a particularly patriarchal and sexist period of history, as was the profession that Mad Men depicts. Advertising, even for women’s products, was driven by the male gaze. Mad Men aims to portray the decade and the world of Madison Avenue advertising as accurately as possible, but does not view it from the patriarchal standpoint of the time.

In the Establishing Mad Men documentary, creator Matthew Weiner states that Mad Men “is about conflicting desires in the American male, and the people who pay the price for that are women.” The leading women in the series who pay that price are Peggy Olson, Joan Harris, and Betty Draper. The struggles of Mad Men’s male characters have ramifications on them. Weiner uses the female gaze of these women to criticize the sexism of the era and profession they inhabit, while rendering fully realized and dynamic female characters. Peggy, Joan, and Betty are depicted as sexual, complicated, and diverse human beings.

In the first season of Mad Men especially, much of the dialogue shows the vast amount of overt sexism in the workplace. The Sterling Cooper secretaries are a smorgasbord available for men’s consumption, objects they can use for their amusement or lust. For most audience members of the 2000s, this blatant sexism is baffling, and some may find it oddly humorous just how much was acceptable or tolerated back then.

We experience this sexism through the eyes and gaze of Peggy Olson, who, much like the audience, is being introduced to the world of Sterling Cooper in the first episode. Peggy ends up being the female character most tied with the nature of advertising- making her way from Don Draper’s secretary to copywriter and then copy chief. But at first she is just another secretary, a new piece of fresh meat for the men. Peggy has never worked in an office before; she is straight out of secretarial school. Raised in a strict Catholic family, Peggy has likely never experienced male ogling at quite this level. By Episode 2, “Ladies’ Room,” Peggy is already fed up: “Honestly, why is it that every time a man takes you out to lunch around here, you’re…you’re the dessert!” she bemoans to Joan. Matthew Weiner uses the female gaze purposefully in the following scene where the camera allows the audience to identify with Peggy as the men’s prey. As Peggy sits at her desk on the typewriter, the camera cuts to many different men in slow-motion gazing at her, with reverse low angle-shots of Peggy. The multiple and unrelenting gazes of men echoes Peggy’s dialogue from minutes before: “It’s constant from every corner.” The low-angle on Peggy heightens her overwhelming feeling of their gaze.

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Peggy’s role puts her in the position of seeing not only the advertising world firsthand, but also the male point of view that it so actively employs, and from her first account, she begins to challenge that point of view. Peggy’s rise in advertising begins with a Belle Jolie lipstick campaign. The Sterling Cooper secretaries are treated to a testing session (viewed by the men behind a two-way mirror) where they can try on as many Belle Jolie lipsticks as they please. The gaggle of secretaries are thrilled, but Peggy sits there unhappily. The camera shows Peggy watching the girls try on lipsticks in slow motion, the seeds of her first copy pitch planting in her brain. Freddy Rumsen asks Peggy why she didn’t try on any lipsticks. Peggy tells him that they didn’t have her color, that she is very particular: “I don’t think anyone wants to be one of a hundred colors in a box.” The men are failing to see the individuality in women, and instead choosing to see them as a limited whole. Peggy’s observations leads her to be promoted to copywriter for that campaign.

In Season 3, Peggy continues to challenge the male gaze in advertising. In a campaign for Patio, the clients want a shot-for-shot reenactment Bye Bye Birdie’s opening: “She’s throwing herself at the camera. No one seems to care that it speaks to men. Not the people that drink diet drinks.” Peggy asks Don about the faux Ann-Margaret. “It’s not about making women feel fat. It’s ‘look how happy I am drinking Patio. I’m young and excited and desperate for a man,’” Don replies. “I don’t mind fantasies, but shouldn’t it be a female one?” Peggy asks. “Peggy, you understand how this works: men want her, women want to be her.” Don is subtly insisting to Peggy that advertising, even for women’s products, is aimed for men. Don is also hinting to Peggy that if she keeps up the criticisms about the male gaze in advertising, she will lose her job.

Another example is the Playtex ad from Season 2 Episode 6’s “Maidenform.” Kinsey comes up with an idea that every woman is either a Jackie or Marilyn. He points to various women in the office pinpointing which one they are. “I don’t know if all women are a Jackie or a Marilyn. Maybe men seem them that way,” Peggy counters. “Bras are for men. Women want to see themselves the way men see them,” Kinsey insists.

As the series progresses into the mid-60s, we see the gradual shift into (slightly) more open-minded ideals about the roles of women in the workplace. Peggy is promoted and works on many campaigns. In fact, many of the clients grow to appreciate the benefit of the female gaze, making their products truly (for the most part) appealing to women. This makes more profit than the false patriarchal ideas of a woman’s wants and needs. With the character of Peggy, Weiner is able to let us see the advertising world from the female gaze to criticize the falsehood that lies in selling female products with a male gaze.

Peggy makes the biggest change as the series goes on, from a meek, mousy girl to a headstrong woman, though her evolution is no surprise upon reflection. Outside of the office, Peggy is seen many times exerting control over her own sexuality and choice of sexual partners. Peggy’s struggles of putting career over having a family are honestly and sensitively executed by Weiner.

Another female character tied to Sterling Cooper is Joan Holloway (later Harris). No other character experiences the male gaze as much as Joan. In the beginning seasons, the camera flatters and accentuates every curve of Hendricks’s voluptuous body. We see her as the men in the office see her. But one scene turns this on its head, in Season 1’s “Babylon,” at the Belle Jolie lipstick testing. Joan oversees the secretaries wearing a gorgeous skin-tight red dress. The camera views Joan (as the men view her) as she walks across the table, slyly looking at the two-way mirror. The camera then glides over to and fixes on Joan’s bottom as she bends over. Cut to Joan smirking, turning around and looking squarely at the mirror, almost straight into the camera. Joan knows the men are gazing at her, and she takes possession of that gaze by giving them what they want to see. The men think they have the power in being able to gaze at her unknowingly, but the power lies in Joan’s hands as she presents herself to be looked at. When Joan looks into the camera, it is almost as if she is also challenging the audience as well.

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The character of Joan is frequently seen as a sexual object by all those around her. Many of her storylines revolve around the harmful ramifications you experience when you are only viewed by how you look and your body. The men around her, and even Joan herself, tend to use that sexuality as a pawn. Joan knows she exactly how she is viewed and objectified by the men in the office, and she yields that power for better or for worse. Two significant plot points happen to Joan–the rape by her fiancé and the act of prostitution to obtain the Jaguar account and a higher position in the office. As she lies on the office floor with Greg on top of her, or as awful, the awful car salesman kisses her and takes off her fur coat, the camera fixes on only Joan in a close-up. By doing that we are able to empathize with only her instead of focusing on the act. Weiner visually does not reduce these scenes to moments of exploitation. We are not centered on the event itself, but on what Joan is going through.

The show itself does not reduce Joan to just a sexual object as much as the men around her would like her to be so. Joan is a very smart, capable woman that is excellent at her job, more so than some of the men are. She often goes unappreciated until she does obtain her higher-up position. The show’s finale shows Joan running a production company in her home while raising her son.

Outside of Sterling Cooper, but connected to leading man Don Draper, is Betty Draper (later Francis). Betty’s image is one of passive, docile sexuality and complete perfection. Throughout the series, we quickly learn that there is more beneath Betty’s Barbie Doll-esque façade, for Weiner delves deeper than the false image she presents. Betty’s character seems ripped straight out the pages of Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, a visual personification of “the problem that has no name” that she studied in housewives. Betty’s character allows viewers of modern day to see the nature of those housewives’ lives; there are multiple scenes of the dull drudgery and loneliness Betty deals with day to day alone in the house.

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We first get a glimpse at her underlying sexuality when she tells Don, “I want you so much. I thought about it all day. No I mean it. It’s all I think about…every day. Your car coming down the driveway. I put the kids to bed early. I make a grocery list. I cook butterscotch pudding. I never let my hands idle. Brushing my hair, drinking my milk…and it’s all in kind of a fog because I can’t stop thinking about this. I want you so badly.” From this we learn that Betty is very much at the whim of Don’s actions. One episode delves further into Betty’s brimming sexuality, when we see her pleasuring herself against a washing machine while fantasizing about making love to the air conditioner salesman. In Season 3, after seeing Don sleep with so many other women, there is a scene of Betty controlling her sexuality when she sleeps with a stranger from a bar. Matthew Weiner takes great care in telling her side of the story in the marriage and relation to Don. Betty is not shown to be the demure or child-like woman that Don or others may view her as.

Mad Men is one of the few shows that depicts a successful representation of the female gaze, despite taking place in an era and profession where female’s experiences were often devalued. Weiner does not reduce the women to just mere symbols of the decade’s movements but crafts them as complicated and dynamic human beings living in an equally complicated time. And this is not limited to just Peggy, Joan, and Betty. Mad Men has many women, good qualities and bad, older women, mothers, grandmothers, young girls, teenagers, within the show that Weiner manages–even through small parts–to finely craft. Weiner uses the female gaze as one of many ways to examine the fascinating decade.

 


Caroline Madden has a BFA in Acting from Shenandoah Conservatory and is working on an MA in Cinema Studies at Savannah College of Art and Design. She writes about film at Geek Juice, Screenqueens, and her blog. You can usually find her watching movies or listening to Bruce Springsteen. 

Lust, Love, Duty, Sex: Female Experience in ‘The Deep Blue Sea’

Written by Rachel Redfern

Terence Davies’ 2011 film, The Deep Blue Sea, is based off the 1952 Terence Rattigan play of the same name and while it wouldn’t pass the Bechdel test, it is a film full substantive consideration, both strengths and flaws, of its female character; the film’s main premise hinges on the choices of it’s protagonist Hester Collyer, brilliantly acted by Rachel Weisz.

Hester is a women of education and status in 1950’s post-war England who is married to an affectionate and older high court judge, William (Simon Russell Beale). Hester’s marriage is one of comfort and companionship, surrounded by the consistent affections of her husband, but it lacks passion. Hester then begins an affair with a younger RAF pilot, Freddy (Tom Hiddleston): a heady, wild romance ruled by emotion and embodied by all the lust and anger that such a relationship brings. Ultimately, Hester leaves her husband before he agrees to give her a divorce and move in with Freddy (scandal!) a decision that places her between the devil and ‘the deep blue sea.’

Within the film, it could be seen as problematic that even though Hester is the main character, her choices, and even her world, revolve around the two men in her life and of course her choice between them; however, this slow, character-romance, deserves a deeper look.

Rachel Weisz and Tom Hiddleston

The film is told in one day at the flat Hester shares with Freddy through a series of flashbacks; these flashbacks follow on the heels of a suicide attempt, an event, which then becomes the impetus for her break-up with Freddy and another choice she must make about her future. It’s a grisly catalyst that highlights Hester’s sense of desperation and I think, a feeling of being lost.

Hester is a woman craving life and passion but who is, of course, bound by duty; a plot that might seem overly familiar in its use, but because of its frequency we should consider the sad truth of its existence and representation as a struggle for many women. The Hours, Stephen Daldry’s excellent film (story by Michael Cunningham) about four women, presents the same familiar situation of the restlessness and searching for something more that was and is such a huge part of the female experience. It even put me in mind of Bette Friendan’s The Feminine Mystique and everything that she tried to piece together and understand about the frustration and extreme sense of duty that many women have felt throughout the years.

It is important to note that, as in so many of these stories, it is Hester’s sexual desire that also leads her into the mess and at the same time, out of dreary dark of her early life. Perhaps this is a function of the time in which the story was originally written (1952), but I would instead hope that it was more of a recognition of the great need for larger sexual experiences that influenced its central place within Rattigen’s story. The fact that many women still lived in a fairly sexually repressive society during this time (and unfortunately still do in many places) is no secret; Hester’s experiences with sexuality, lust and intimacy are a significant part of her transformation and the beginning of her journey into a (hopefully) more self-aware life.

Rachel Weisz in The Deep Blue Sea

The Deep Blue Sea’s brilliance as a film is in the maddening silences and in the horrific feeling of helplessness that Hester emotes as she moves about her apartment and interacts with the small cast; these obvious feelings of entrapment are often shown by the limited space in which Hester resides and her long deliberations at the dingy window. There is a lack of light present throughout the movie: a literally dark look to the setting and an abundance of shadows which contribute to Weisz’s own performance as a woman suffocating and dying from a lack of something (the something of course being both a lack stability and passion and something additionally indefinable).

As the film progresses though and the flashbacks bring us closer to the end of this long day, things begin to unravel further: I appreciated that the film was able to explore the binary that exists between choices that we can control and choices that are made for us. For instance, in one scene, Hester begs Freddy to return home with her and as the audience, you can’t help but shout at the screen, “No! Don’t go down that road, keep your dignity, don’t be the girl who begs!” but deep down there’s the recognition that while uncomfortable to see, it is also Hester’s way of trying to hang on to the one thing in her life that made her feel alive for a little awhile, even if it is the very thing that makes her want to die at the same time. It is the intersection of these choices that creates potential for the future and unravels Hester’s present choices.

It’s apparent by the end of the film that Hester’s choices have completely pushed her out of a comfortable, if numbing life, and she must attempt to finally pull the pieces up around herself in order to move forward. I believe it’s very telling that the final shot is of Hester walking away, fully alone, as she goes into the future without the desires of her husband or lover influencing her. I love these sort of endings though; endings that, while not necessarily the girl-and-boy-happy-together-forever ending of so many romantic comedies, show a character moving into a space of possibilities of their choosing, a moment of an independent future where the character is finally choosing for themselves.

Rachel Weisz in The Deep Blue Sea

  
The Deep Blue Sea and Rachel Weisz were nominated for several different awards in the categories of Best Film and Best Actress at the Golden Globes, New York Film Critics Circle (won), the London Film Critics Circle, and the BFI London Film Festival among others. The film is beautifully shot and wonderful in its ability to conjure up a feeling of recovering, post-war England; likewise the acting is beautiful without being heavy-handed and Rachel Weisz is incredible in her role as Hester. The film does move slowly however, and I personally would have liked even more flashbacks, especially in showing the development of Freddy and Hester’s relationship and how that affected her.

While again, some viewers could see it as problematic that so much of Hester’s character revolves around the men in her life, I think it’s a worthwhile exploration of romance and duty and the way that the two often interact, especially from a female perspective. Besides, romance, lust and love are massive emotions that do dominate a significant portion of our lives; I think its productive and important to tell stories that highlight such a substantial aspect of humanity.

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.

Animated Children’s Films: 101 Dalmatians!

This is a guest post from Sade Nickels.

Could it possible be an animated Disney movie that has ladiez in it that isn’t about princesses!?! Yes, but this movie’s treatment of women is still distasteful at best. When I first thought about writing about this movie, I thought the question that I wanted to address was of what qualities or characteristics Disney uses to mark Cruella de Ville, the individual, as a villain. However, after watching the first 15 minutes of the film, I realized that the problematic portrayal of women in the movie extends far beyond Cruella. The real question is of what aspects or lifestyle choices of women does Disney want to villanize in the form of Cruella DeVille. 
Cruella is a single, loud, independent woman who is bad, bad, BAD! We know this because of her older, androgynous appearance, misandry and verbal harassment of men, poor driving skills, disinterest in the nuclear family, obsession with material items…oh, and her love of skinning helpless, small animals. We know she is especially bad when she is compared to her “school chum” Anita (the owner of Perdita–the mom dog). 
Anita is everything Cruella is not: married and pursuing a nuclear family, kind, loving, quiet and beautiful. The audience knows that she is a “good” character after the male dog protagonist approves of her to be his “pet’s” mate based on her wide-eyed, willowy and naive beauty. Helene Stanley provided the live-reference to Anita’s physical form just as she did for Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella characters (maybe this is a princess movie after all). 
The only thing that we know about the relationship between Anita and Cruella is that they are friends from school. Cruella drops by Anita’s house to degrade her husband and home, and to size up those puppies for their fur (though the two’s conversation did manage to pass the Bechdel Test). Anita and Cruella are polar opposites despite both being young, seemingly well-off, educated women. Just as Cruella’s obsession and insatiable need is for material goods, Anita has an inexhaustible desire to love and help all living things (probably because of that whole maternal need thing, amirightfellas?!?). 
This movie was released in 1961 and grossed the most money out of any film that year. These two facts are interesting because 1961 was one year after birth control had been legalized and was right before Betty Friedan’s Feminine Mystique. When One Hundred and One Dalmatians came out, new pathways were being forged for and by women in a highly publicized way. Perhaps this movie is a reaction to current changes in the country. To Disney, “the world was such a wholesome place until Cruella, Cruella de Ville.” If only ladies would stop being deviant and get back to those good, old, traditional family values! 
What sucks, sucks, sucks the most is that Cruella isn’t even a formidable villain in this movie (which she should be since her character was based off the ever-impressive Tallulah Bankhead). It is never expressed if she has a career. She is a bad driver (lady drivers, right?!). Heck, she can’t even skin the puppies herself. Though that would have been a little too explicit. Her hired henchman don’t respect her: Her hired henchman don’t respect her: Cruella’s comeuppance is being told to “shut up!” by one of her hired helpers. Zoinks!
Jeez, oh man, does this movie have lots of problems. In case anyone else is interested in revisiting this movie, there are other interpretations to be had of it. 
Queer Reading

Race and Class

  • First! There are SO many racial and class problems in this movie. My MAIN issue are the race ones. The first being that Pongo, the dad dalmation, is only attracted to another dalmation. Hmmm…
  • Second! When the dogs are running back to London and they are escaping Cruella, they meet up with a labrador who gets them a ride to the city. In order to sneak onto the van the dogs get covered in soot to look like labs (as Pongo says, “That’s the stuff the blacker the better!”). Dog blackface? 
  • Third! When the dogs arrive back home Rodger (the human dad character) starts singing about how they (the humans) will start a Dalmatian Plantation. Ok, so I know the words rhyme and all, but it is still in poor taste. Oh great, there is a song about it. 

Whew! Well, that is all folks. Would LOVE to read your comments.

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Sade Nickels is a toddler teacher in Seattle who enjoys getting tattoos, reading children’s books and thinking about radicalism.