Theme Month – Bitch Flicks

What Your Doctors Really Think About You: Fatphobia on Medical TV

Fat bodies have a curious position in medical drama, reflecting the fatphobia existing within the medical profession. Doctors tend to assume weight always a cause rather than a symptom and overweight patients are either lazy, uneducated or poor. The wealthier we are, the more opportunity we have to strive for thinness. As a class, doctors are incredibly privileged, both highly educated and wealthy, they have the privilege of deciding to be thin that many of their patients do not.

Written by Elizabeth Kiy as part of our theme week on Fatphobia and Fat Positivity.

Most medical dramas draw from a common well of plots. There’s the amnesiac, the guy who wakes up from a coma after 10 years, the deadbeat dad who wants a transplant from his daughter, and the 600-pound (or thereabouts) man who has to be cut out of his house.

Of course, this man is treated like a monster, the rare patient not worthy of sympathy because it is assumed his condition is entirely his fault, and he has chosen to be unhealthy. Fat bodies on TV as well as in Western culture as seen as shameful and disgusting. The 600-pound man on TV is treated as a medical oddity and a living freakshow that doctors within the program and viewers at home are invited to gawk at, assured that as uncomfortable we may be with our own bodies, at least we’re not that.

On House, the 600-pound man is further Othered by the assumption that he is dead when he is first discovered. When he wakes up, groaning and thrashing around, unsure what is happening to him, he is doubly monstrous, both fat and “undead.”

The 600 pound man is treated as a monster on House — The 600-pound man is treated as a monster on *House*

Fat bodies also have a curious position in medical drama, reflecting the fatphobia existing within the medical profession. Doctors tend to assume weight always a cause rather than a symptom and overweight patients are either lazy, uneducated, or poor. The wealthier we are, the more opportunity we have to strive for thinness. As a class, doctors are incredibly privileged, both highly educated and wealthy, they have the privilege of deciding to be thin that many of their patients do not.

The appearance of the 600-pound man compounds on the subtle fatphobia within the medium of television, as all the lead actors, and so all the TV doctors, are attractive and fit.

Lexie Grey’s stress eating and weight gain are treated as cute quirks

Though Grey’s Anatomy stands out from the pack with its inclusion of several lead characters who are a larger size, and are treated as positive figures worthy of love, many episodes also contain fat jokes. In several episodes, Dr. Lexie Grey (Chyler Leigh), one of the thinner characters, is experiencing extreme stress, and her way of coping with it is to binge eat junk food. When she gains a small amount of weight, other characters mock her for it, but it is never treated as a serious problem; the stress goes away and Lexi continues to be thin. The plot line was intended as an in-joke about the actress’s weight gain during her pregnancy, but it stinks of thin privilege that anyone though this was light-hearted comedy.

Fatphobia is the one acceptable prejudice on TV. Characters we are meant to continue to like and sympathize with can be exposed as fatphobic without thought of consequences, such as Dr. Chase (Jesse Spencer), House’s resident heartthrob. In the episode, Heavy, when an overweight 10-year-old girl is admitted to the hospital after having a heart attack during gym class, Chase, usually especially kind to kid patients, is incredibly cruel to her. He laughs at her and suggests that if she wants her health problems to go away, she should “stop shoving her face with food.” He also dismisses her symptoms of fatigue, muscle pain, and difficulty concentrating as due to clinical depression over her weight. The girl, Jessica, has been bullied and is isolated at school and has been abusing exercise and diet pills and the episode is very uncomfortable to watch, even triggering.

Jessica is an overweight 10 year old, treated cruelly by her doctor — Jessica is an overweight 10-year-old, treated cruelly by her doctor

When Chase’s coworker, Dr. Cameron (Jennifer Morrison) attempts to defend Jessica, he laughs at her as well, saying she is fatphobic as well, because she does everything she can to stay thin. She gets by on thin privilege and enjoys the benefits of others finding her attractive. Later in the episode, we learn that Chase himself used to be overweight and because he was able to lose weight and keep it off, believes everyone who can’t is ignorant and lazy. He continues to blame Jessica’s health problems on her weight, refusing to see that it might be a symptom.

However, the show goes on to suggest that Jessica is the rare fat person who is worthy of our sympathy because her weight is not her fault. She maintains a healthy diet and regularly exercises, but is unable to lose any weight. Because of this she is not a “real” fat person so negative stereotypes do not apply. It turns out that she has a pituitary tumor that was causing her to gain weight and the episode ends with a final triumphant shot of Jessica thin and smiling. This shot is notable as House episodes rarely ended with the “cured” patients returning to the hospital or of showing their recovery, its inclusion suggests that the writers though we needed to be reassured that Jessica eventually gets thin.

Jessica is triumphant over losing weight

In House’s 600-pound man episode, attempts are also made to deny him proper medical care as fat jokes are made about him, diagnoses are ruled out without proper consideration because of his weight and he is initially barred from their MRI machine because it is not strong enough to support him.

Grey’s Anatomy’s take on the same plot is handled with a bit more tact. The doctors, most of whom are interns and residents beginning their careers, are given a lecture about proper behavior and sensitivity before they interact with the patient and are warned that anyone who make rude comments will be taken off the case. This rule is strictly enforced, even when the doctors do not feel they’ve done anything wrong. Many of the doctors we are meant to continue to like make fat jokes throughout the episode, but are painted as being young and immature. We are meant to like them, but not support what they are doing.

Doctors are taught to be sensitive about the 600 pound man on Grey’s Anatomy — Doctors are taught to be sensitive about the 600-pound man on *Grey’s Anatomy*

Yet, the patient frequently makes jokes at his own expense and urges the doctors to lighten up, refusing to admit the seriousness of his condition. What gets through to him is the doctors joining him in making fat jokes. With this in mind, it’s difficult to tell whether the show is saying we need to be more sensitive or less sensitive about weight.

The show Nip/Tuck, focusing on plastic surgeons, already comes from a more superficial place than the typical medical drama, but contains some startling examples of fatphobia. Doctors frequently mock fat patients when they are off-screen and discuss acquaintances who need surgery to even be considered normal looking. In one early plot line, an overweight woman who wants to be thin for her high school reunion to show up her tormenters, is denied liposuction because she is also bipolar, commits suicide. This woman’s sad story is not revisited after the single episode and characters continue to exhibit incredible thin privilege. In another episode, anti-hero Dr. Troy (Julian McMahon) has sex with sex-positive, upbeat overweight woman and finds it incredibly enjoyable. He is horrified and after some soul searching, brutally drags her down into self-hatred, making her feel as unhealthy and unattractive as he believes she should feel.

Though it’s a comedy, The Mindy Project also has a conflicted relationship with fatphobia. Protagonist Dr. Mindy Lahiri (Mindy Kaling) is a bright, bubbly woman who happens to be a bit larger that most actresses on TV, and for the most part she is comfortable with her body. She sees herself as sexy and attractive and is treated as such. Still, she refuses to tell people how much she weighs, describes herself as “anorexic” and as wearing an extra small. Mindy though, is not a character who is meant to be perfect or even entirely likeable. She is instead, an exaggerated example of how many of us feel about our bodies.

If I were to chose a TV doctor, I think Mindy would make me feel the best about my body. She reserves her fatphobia for herself and tells her patients they look awesome.

Elizabeth Kiy is a Canadian writer and journalist living in Toronto, Ontario.

‘Shallow Hal’: The Unexpected Virtue of Discomfort

Its challenge to fatphobia is covered in fat jokes and gross-out humor, tailored to trigger our prejudices. We can laugh, if prepared to question why. We can sympathize, if braced against an awkwardly half-choked, giggling snort. Humor strikes faster than self-censorship.

"Only a man this shallow could fall in love this deep." — “Only a man this shallow could fall in love this deep.”

Written by Brigit McCone as part of our theme week on Fatphobia and Fat Positivity.

We are bad at multitasking empathy. When moved by Colin Firth’s Oscar-winning struggle with his stammer in The King’s Speech, you don’t want to recall cackling at Michael Palin in A Fish Called Wanda. As you congratulate yourself for noticing the rather obvious sexiness of Emmy-winning Peter Dinklage in Game of Thrones, you’d prefer to forget laughing at Verne Troyer in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me. It’s more comfortable having your heart warmed by the Oscar-winning A Beautiful Mind, if you ignore that your ribs were tickled by Me, Myself and Irene. It’s easier to feel good about sympathizing with Jared Leto’s Oscar-winning trans heroine in Dallas Buyers Club, if you blank the comedy stripping of Sean Young’s trans villain in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. The result is that neither gross-out comedy nor award-winning pathos seriously challenges its audience’s comfort; the comedy, because we’re never asked to sympathize, and the Oscar-bait, because we’re never tempted to mock. In 2001’s Shallow Hal, the Farrelly Brothers took Oscar-winning Gwyneth Paltrow, dressed her in a comical fat suit and demanded sympathy. The result was downright uncomfortable, and I loved it.

Shallow Hal comes with no genre cues or award endorsements to aid in compartmentalizing our empathy. Its challenge to fatphobia is covered in fat jokes and gross-out humor, tailored to trigger our prejudices. We can laugh, if prepared to question why. We can sympathize, if braced against an awkwardly half-choked, giggling snort. Humor strikes faster than self-censorship. The film has the boundless bad taste to remind viewers of their shallowness while daring to make them feel bad about it. The result can be a jarring viewing experience, provoking Rolling Stones‘ critic Peter Travers to declare “something condescending, not to mention hypocritical, about asking an audience to laugh uproariously at the spectacle of a fat person being sneered at and dissed as “rhino” or “hippo” or “holy cow,” and then to justify those laughs by saying it’s society’s fault.” Yet, is it truly hypocritical to remind an audience that they’re hypocritical?

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMLZnY2nLcw”]

The moment we see Jack Black’s Hal and Jason Alexander’s Mauricio hitting on “hotties,” the audience’s instinctive reaction is that they are too short and overweight to be justified in their shallowness. Hal is hypnotized into seeing inner beauty, and the hotties in fat suits and ugly cosmetics are utterly transformed into hotties without fat suits and ugly cosmetics. This premise allows Shallow Hal to become a forensic deconstruction of the fat joke. Do crushed chairs and giant meals remain funny, if acted by slim Gwyneth Paltrow? Or is it only the fat body that’s funny?

Many critics have pointed out that Shallow Hal uses tired, conventional fat jokes, without acknowledging how deliberately it targets thin bodies with those jokes. Left to imagine the fat body of Rosemary (Gwyneth Paltrow) only from bystander reactions and glimpsed body parts, we build a mental image of something hyperbolically monstrous. When Rosemary’s fat self is finally revealed, it is not to be mocked, but to relieve Hal and expose society’s dysmorphia. Of course, the Farrellys can’t control the audience’s response, only confront it. As Katherine Murray says of Chasing Amy and Dollhouse: “the power and relevance of both of these stories comes from the fact that objectifying women is a popular pastime in real life, and not everyone sees the problem with that – the discomfort and uncertainty of these stories comes from the fact that objectifying women is a popular pastime in real life, and not everyone sees the problem with that.”

Paltrow’s sympathetic performance blends spiky defensiveness and vulnerability. Seeing such low self-esteem in a slim, blonde “hottie,” Hal perceives it as “cuckoo.” Of course, it should be equally cuckoo for a fat woman to suffer pointlessly lower quality of life because of irrational stigma. Separating the body and the stigma raises interesting questions. Would it still be a dream to date Paltrow’s slender blonde, if onlookers reacted with the same judging, mocking and disbelieving scrutiny applied to obese girlfriends? Where Louie‘s “So Did The Fat Lady” wallows in the pathos of a fat lady that men won’t hold hands with in public, Shallow Hal questions whether men would feel comfortable publicly holding hands with Gwyneth Paltrow, if she were associated with lower status rather than higher. Or are they, actually, more shallow than Shallow Hal?

Hal progresses through each hurdle of deconstructed shallowness, from defying public judgment to accepting Rosemary’s body in its real form, with “love grows where my Rosemary goes, and nobody knows but me” becoming his anthem of social defiance. Shallow assumptions that short, overweight Hal is ridiculous for chasing girls “out of his league” are equally challenged. Hal can attract conventional “hotties” once his desire is proved more than superficial; it’s just that then he doesn’t want them. Shallow Hal joins gross-out classic There’s Something About Mary, and the non-Farrelly Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo, as a romcom that dares to demand of men: “what is it about you that makes you deserve the girl?” It puts its hero through a trial of worth, without the usual, unquestioned entitlement to date whatever hottie the script provides (*cough* Forgetting Sarah Marshall). In There’s Something About Mary, a range of men try to seduce Cameron Diaz’s “hottie” using farcical exaggerations of classic wooing tactics: Matt Dillon’s sleazy Healy eavesdrops to discover and embody all her fantasies, Lee Evans’ emotionally blackmailing Tucker fakes a disability and an English accent to out-vulnerable the most vulnerable Hugh Grant fop, Chris Elliott’s stalking Dom manifests a passion so intense and persistent that it brings him out in hives, and hunky Brett Favre combines athleticism, wealth and fame. But it is only Ben Stiller’s continually humiliated Ted who, while making every technical error imaginable, loves Mary enough to place her happiness above his own desires, meaning he alone passes the film’s trial.

Conversely, the clients of Deuce Bigalow are farcical exaggerations of female anxieties: the narcoleptic fails society’s demand for women to be attentive; Amy Poehler’s Tourette’s violates expectations of ladylike behavior; the giantess is manly and intimidating; Fluisa is obese and unfit. Only by honoring the humanity and femininity of each of these extreme archetypes, and passing the final test of fully accepting his “hottie” girlfriend’s prosthetic limb, can Deuce prove himself worthy to be accepted and loved in his turn, as a flawed being. The shockingly honest self-scrutiny in gross-out comedy is one of the genre’s central pleasures. Farrelly Brothers movies are elevated above mean-spirited imitators (*cough* Norbit) by their dedication to conjuring and confronting anxieties on a path to purification. Though I didn’t include the Farrellys’ crude and absurdist Me, Myself And Irene in my survey of cinematic portraits of psychosis, and though it was slammed by mental health organizations, I must admit the film recognizes the psychosis of Jim Carrey’s Charlie Baileygates as his own responsibility, while allowing him to be a romantic and sexual being, which is as rare as it is refreshing. Since my psychotic break was flamboyant, I appreciate the Farrelly Brothers’ defiance of the respectability politics that plague mental health activism, just as Shallow Hal acknowledges and even exaggerates Rosemary’s overeating, while still challenging her dehumanization.

Crucially, Shallow Hal does not confine itself to the hypothetical thought experiment of imagining conventionally attractive actors as obese or cosmetically ugly, but introduces genuinely nonconforming bodies, including launching the acting career of Rene Kirby in a prominent supporting role. This tactic confronts viewers with the humanity behind the metaphor. Think of the audiences who empathized with Boris Karloff’s cosmetic monster in Frankenstein, but were appalled by the genuinely nonconforming bodies of Tod Browning’s career-destroying Freaks. Shallow Hal dares to sit Frankenstein and the real “freaks” at the same table, where all are celebrated as “one of us.” Does its casual conflation of fatphobia and ableism disturb some fat acceptance activists? The intense identification with nonconforming bodies that gay director James Whale showed in Frankenstein, or Oscar Wilde showed in “The Birthday of the Infanta,” faded from the camp aesthetic as gay rights advanced. The identification with Frankenstein shown by crossdressing director/star Ed Wood in Glen or Glenda, and transgender creator/star Richard O’Brien in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, is fading from today’s trans* rights movement. Is the fat acceptance movement fighting to end body stigma, or merely to separate fat bodies from that stigma? Must every step of progress be accompanied by an act of exclusion?

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G2X8QBt5m4″]

Fat acceptance?

The 1948 “race film” (that is, a Jim Crow era film with an African American cast, targeting African American audiences), Boarding House Blues, opens with Dusty Fletcher bringing a capering monkey into the boarding house to join his act. The monkey claims Dusty’s bed and forces him to sleep on the floor. It also bears a remarkable resemblance to King Louie, who would be talking jive and aping Louis Armstrong as the beloved “King of the Swingers” in Disney’s 1967 The Jungle Book, fully 42 years before 2009’s The Princess and the Frog introduced Disney’s first Black princess (and, despite its jazz-age New Orleans setting, had less of Armstrong’s sound in its Randy Newman score than the ape did in 1967). It is uncomfortable to watch “King Louie” side by side with Dusty Fletcher, as it is uncomfortable to see Gwyneth Paltrow’s fake stigma side by side with Rene Kirby. It becomes even more uncomfortable when “King Louie” removes his head and reveals that he is another African American man, forced into a monkey suit to hustle a living. Good. Let’s be uncomfortable about that.

Erasure is too often the politically correct alternative to discomfort. By cutting blackface and Stepin Fetchit routines from classic films, we retain the sentimentalized self-image of racists, while erasing uncomfortably visible reminders of their racism (and groundbreaking African American stars, as collateral damage). Boarding House Blues also stars Moms Mabley, a middle-aged woman (and the major pioneer of stand-up comedy, whose taboo-busting routines were tamed for film). Today, her role would be played by Eddie Murphy, Martin Lawrence or Tyler Perry in drag and a rubber fat suit. How would Murphy’s Rasputia hold the screen against Mabley’s real deal? Doesn’t the safety of our laughter at Rasputia depend on Mabley’s substitution? One more star of Boarding House Blues deserves attention: Crip Heard. Crip is a dancer with one arm and one leg. Entering on a crutch, he tosses that crutch aside with a flourish and dances unaided. It is hard to imagine this celebration of Crip’s resilient body appearing in even the blaxploitation film of the 1970s, let alone the modern mainstream. Where could Crip dance today? If you’re honest, you know the answer: in a Farrelly Brothers movie.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qSklDMBnQM”]

There is no question that fatphobia is a vile, irrational and bullying stigma. But the commonly repeated mantra that it is the “last acceptable prejudice” is demonstrably untrue. From physical disability to mental illness to trans* status, there are numerous acceptable prejudices in today’s comedies. As Kathleen LeBesco points out, the Farrelly Brothers have “more than any mainstream moviemakers working today, fought hard against the devices of concealment, cosmetic action, and motivated forgetting, and as a result thrown into question the reassurance that public bodies are flawless bodies.” The runner-up? Jackass, of course. So, are we ready to embrace the anarchic Farrelly vision of squirming confrontation and broad-based solidarity? Or must our body politics become respectability politics?

See also at Bitch Flicks: When It Seems Like The Movie You’re Watching Might Hate You

Brigit McCone admits to having a thing for Jack Black and Rob Schneider. She writes and directs short films and radio dramas. Her hobbies include doodling and terrible dancing in the privacy of her own home.

‘Scarlet Road’: Sex Work and Disability

Mark says he wants a girlfriend and that although he understands Rachel is a sex worker, he likes that Rachel makes him feel as though he has a girlfriend. That’s an important distinction that the trailer conveniently cut out. People with disabilities are not children who form childish emotional attachments from fantasies. We understand reality, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to escape it from time to time like everyone else.

Scarlet Road promotional poster. — *Scarlet Road* promotional poster.

Written by Erin Tatum.

I was originally hesitant to give Scarlet Road a chance. As a general rule, I hate documentaries about sex and disability. Most of them are incredibly patronizing and spoonfeed the presumably able viewer flowery messages about compassion for the human experience that do little to actually help the audience understand disabled sexuality or the problematic consequences of assuming universal asexuality for people with disabilities. Plus, the trailer really overdoes it with the piano music, which is never a good sign.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOpC0tYp_Qg”]

That said, this was the first documentary on the subject that I genuinely enjoyed. At first, I was a little put off that Scarlet Road was subtitled “A Sex Worker’s Journey” because I felt that it was trying to pull focus away from the disability aspect of the film and emphasize the importance of able subjecthood. I was soon able to work past that when I realized that the film was tackling much more than disability alone. Director Catherine Scott chronicles the daily life of Rachel Wotton, an Australian sex worker who frequently works for the disabled, as she attempts to break down stigmas around sex work and disability. Rachel’s situation is especially unique because she lives in New South Wales, where sex work is decriminalized, and so she is able to advertise herself and others as any other business would.

Rachel could not have been a better spokesperson. She is fun, relaxed, and articulate. Rather than seizing the podium to “educate” the audience about the mechanics of sex with the disabled, she simply advocates for everyone’s right to sexual expression in a manner that’s casual and friendly, rather than appealing to sympathy and shaming able people for their social superiority complex. Rachel is the sort of person that you could imagine yourself sitting down having coffee with and when you’re dealing with allegedly taboo subjects, that sort of familiarity is vital. It’s easy to see why she excels in her profession. I never doubted that any of her passion wasn’t 100 percent genuine.

All of Rachel’s clients who were interviewed were disabled men. Some of them presented relatively familiar disability narratives. The first client, John, a man with multiple sclerosis, talked about nearly being driven to suicide by the degeneration resulting from his disorder. He says that working with Rachel “makes him feel like a real man again.” It’s also implied that his sessions with Rachel have even restored some of his functions or created some sort of new pathway for sexual response. Basically, masculinity is once again inextricably tied to regular sexual expression, but I won’t gripe too much because it isn’t framed in a way that compels us to pity him.

Rachel and Mark walk hand-in-hand as they go to lunch.

There’s also another guy Mark who has cerebral palsy (like me, holla!). Mark looks to be in his 30s and just chills with his parents. His parents are awesome and the three of them seem to love hanging out together. After so many stories of disability being a draining burden on everyone you love, it’s really refreshing to see a family that doesn’t bat an eye at the logistical complications. Mark’s mom gives him an allowance to pay for his sessions with Rachel. Mark’s mom is a cool lady. Mark says he wants a girlfriend and that although he understands Rachel is a sex worker, he likes that Rachel makes him feel as though he has a girlfriend. That’s an important distinction that the trailer conveniently cut out. People with disabilities are not children who form childish emotional attachments from fantasies. We understand reality, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to escape it from time to time like everyone else. Mark and Rachel have lunch while Mark’s parents set up his bed, complete with flower petals and chocolate. Not only do they seem completely at ease, but they chuckle and chatter excitedly the whole time about how pleased they are for Mark. Can they adopt me? Mainly, this documentary convinced me that I need to move to Australia.

Displays of vaginal swabs taken from sex workers and non-sex workers.

I was surprised with the amount insight we were given into the sex work industry and the prejudice it faces. I was pleased that the scrutiny was taken off of disability for a while. Rachel helps run and facilitate an organization called Touching Base, which aims to educate sex workers on a variety of topics, including how to best assist disabled clients. She goes to a conference on sexology in Belgium. Even there, many participants express uneasiness or confusion about sex work. Really? I know it’s unfair to expect everyone to be an expert, but you would think that sex work would be a pretty big field in sexology. Rachel remarks on a poster that displays images of a vaginal swab of a sex worker versus that of a “normal” woman. She points out that images like these perpetuate the myth of sex workers as “vectors of disease.” The film makes it clear that people with disabilities face a lot of unfair hurdles and social judgment, but moments like these remind us that sex workers encounter similar biases. Both groups are routinely dehumanized to create an imagined sexual hierarchy of authenticity.

Rachel relaxes in bed with her boyfriend.

Nonetheless, Rachel thrives in her personal life. She has a boyfriend, Matt, who doesn’t seem to mind her choice in career at all. He’s just as laid-back as she is. When asked the obvious question of whether or not he gets jealous, Matt flatly shrugs it off. Interestingly, when asked about Rachel’s disabled clients, he says that he understands why it needs to happen because they don’t have opportunities. I held my breath at this point because it looked like he was teetering on emasculating the disabled men by insinuating that it wasn’t “real sex” to shore up his own masculinity, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t appear to perceive any of her clients, able-bodied or otherwise, as a threat to him or his relationship. He knows Rachel’s work is her work and understands the sexual economy in relation to the disabled as evening out (one aspect of) social inequality. You go, Matt. I just want to give everyone in the film high-fives.

Adding yet another element, Rachael graduates from university with a bachelor’s, having done her research in sex work. She wishes to pursue her PhD. I think that the unexpected fusion of these two areas reveals something very important about our cultural biases against sex workers and why we view them as unworthy of social respect. On one hand, academia is revered as taking quite a lot of skill to master. Supposedly, you have to be smart to earn a bachelor’s or PhD, and if you’re intelligent you must be someone worth talking to! On the other hand, sex workers are harshly stereotyped as often lazy criminals. Even when they’re marketed to be palatable to mainstream, like in Secret Diary of a Call Girl, escorts are portrayed decadent and opportunistic. In truth, there can be much more overlap between sex work and almost any other walk of life than most would care to admit.

Ultimately, the audience can recognize that there’s a great deal of intersectionality in the way that both sex workers and disabled people are policed and shamed about their sexual expression. Rachel reminds us that the two groups can work together to lessen collective stigma. Some of the issues that sex workers face directly impact the disabled community as well, such as the tendency to demonize or prosecute the client in areas where sex work is illegal. Rachel holds a banquet for Touching Base to celebrate the organization’s progress. Fun fact: she tells us that her current boyfriend, her three ex-boyfriends, her mother, plus several of her disabled clients and their families are there. No one even flinches. I love Australia. She talks at length about how much her disabled clients mean to her. After the preceding documentary, we can truly believe in her commitment to the cause.

The future of sex work and disability looks bright with Rachel Wotton at the helm.

Sex Workers Are Disposable on ‘Game of Thrones’

When we are introduced to Ros, she is working in Winterfell but as war approaches she decides to try her luck in King’s Landing expressing the view that if all the men leave for war there is not going to be much for her in Winterfell. Once there she goes from being “just a sex worker” to getting involved in the politics of the realm by becoming the right hand woman of Little Finger and subsequently double crossing him by becoming an agent for Varys. However despite her many interesting qualities and potential for interesting storylines, Ros basically exists for one reason to provide exposition regarding male characters on the show while naked. She is sexposition personified.

While Game of Thrones is frequently problematic, one of the things it does well is having a wide range of interesting female characters. Despite this, there are some women on the show who fall into the roles that are normally reserved for women on film and television; that is, to tell us things about dudes. This is particularly true of the female sex workers on the show. A perfect example of this is Ros. Interestingly, Ros is a character that does not exist in the books. She is an invention of the television show’s writers and producers. It is likely that she takes the place of two other sex worker characters who are women of colour.

Ros is the first sex worker we see on Game of Thrones. She is masterfully acted by Esme Bianco who does wonderful things with the limited material she is given. Her portrayal of Ros allows us to view her as intelligent, witty, ambitious, and pragmatic. At first Ros manages to avoid most of the traditional sex worker tropes that exist such as the disposable sex worker and the hooker with the heart of gold. She makes no apologies for being a sex worker and does not consider herself to be a tragic victim of her circumstances. She is simply making money in the most efficient way she knows how.

The very first time we see her she is entertaining Tyrion Lannister at the Winterfell brothel. Their interaction serves to inform us that Tyrion is both famous for being a philanderer and generally a good hearted person who is nice to people who exist on the margins despite his great wealth and power. Next up there is Theon Greyjoy Ros helps reveal to us as the audience a number of things about him. Firstly, that he has a chip on his shoulder about his status in Winterfell. Secondly he is basically a hostage living with the Starks because of his father’s traitorous actions. She helps to reveal his particular insecurities as well as expose some of his backstory, all without any clothes on – handy. In fact Ros basically spends the entirety of season one with her clothes off allowing men to tell her things about themselves. Littlefinger gets to fill in some back story while she is naked on screen. Joffrey reminds us of just how evil he is (again) by forcing Ros to brutally beat her friend and fellow sex worker when Tyrion buys a night with them for Joffrey as a present. On and on it goes.

The saddest part about Ros is that while she mostly exists as a plot device, there was always potential there for her to develop as a character. She had many traits that would have made her very interesting to watch as the story unfolded. However that is not to be, because those who make the decisions decided that Ros had outlived her usefulness. She had proven just how terrible Little Finger and Joffery were and the final flourish was her death. Ros turned out to be a disposable sex worker after all and the way that she is killed off proves it.

It was her compassion for Sansa Stark that is Ros’ downfall. She tells Varys details that only she could know about Littlefinger’s plans for her and despite Varys promising to protect her he finds out and she ends up dead. Her death is graphic and horrifying. We do not see her die, we are just treated to a vision of her corpse as Littlefinger tells Varys that one of his investments had betrayed him and therefore had to be disposed of. We are treated to a vision of Ros tied to Joffery’s bed, semi clothed with arrows piercing her body including her genitals. The camera lingers over the gory details. The idea is clear, as we look at Ros’ ravaged body we are meant to think about Littlefinger and what a horrible person he is. Ros’ death is a simply a footnote in the stories of the great men who she fucks.

Interestingly, Esme Bianco mentioned in an interview that she argued for having less nude scenes so that she could have cool costumes like the other characters on the show. Perhaps due to her self-advocacy, her character ended up with no nude scenes in season three, and it seemed as though she was very much on the verge of becoming a proper character, one that is fully realized and has their own plot. Before that could actually happen, she was killed off as if she didn’t matter at all.

There are many things I enjoy about Game of Thrones, but there are perhaps just as many things that I find problematic within it; their treatment of Ros is definitely one of them. The excuses that Game of Thrones is set in both an extremely patriarchal and extremely violent culture do not fly. I think they are cop-outs. The show has beaten us over the head with the evilness of Joffrey and Littlefinger. I personally feel that the scene where he takes Ros aside when she starts crying in front of one of her clients after the baby of her friend is killed in front of her, is much more chilling than the gruesome horror of her death. Subtlety is obviously not something the show is interested in. At the end of the day, the Game of Thrones treatment of Ros simply reinforces dominant societal narratives about sex workers, i.e. that their humanity is unimportant and that it is a dangerous occupation that women should know better than to take up. This is disappointing from a show that is often progressive in the way that it handles female characters.

Gaayathri Nair is a writer currently located in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, although this is set to change soon. She is the child of diaspora two times over and is passionate about all forms of social justice. She likes to travel and prefers television to movies; however, she feels a strange compulsion to watch all movies that have fish-eating people in them, no matter how terrible they are. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Political Studies from the University of Auckland and she has spent her formative years working at various types of feminist organizations from the community to the regional in both New Zealand and around Asia. Her work has been featured around the feminist blogosphere including Flyover Feminism, Feministe, and Leftstream as well as in United Nations and NGO publications. You can find more of her work at her blog A Human Story and tweet her @A_Gaayathri.

The Shock of ‘Sleepaway Camp’

On the surface, Sleepaway Camp isn’t much different than your average 1980s slasher movie. The comparisons to Friday the 13th can’t be ignored – Sleepaway’s Camp Arawak, much like Friday’s Camp Crystal Lake, is populated by horny teens looking for some summer lovin’, and is the site of a series of gruesome and mysterious murders that threaten to shut down the camp for the whole summer. But unlike Friday the 13th and other slasher films, the twist in Sleepaway Camp isn’t the identity of the murderer, and the final girl isn’t exactly who you’d expect.

This piece by Carrie Nelson previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on October 24, 2011 and is republished as part of our theme week on Cult Films and B Movies.

Sleepaway Camp (1983)

On the surface, Sleepaway Camp isn’t much different than your average 1980s slasher movie. The comparisons to Friday the 13th can’t be ignored – Sleepaway’s Camp Arawak, much like Friday’s Camp Crystal Lake, is populated by horny teens looking for some summer lovin’, and is the site of a series of gruesome and mysterious murders that threaten to shut down the camp for the whole summer. But unlike Friday the 13th and other slasher films, the twist in Sleepaway Camp isn’t the identity of the murderer, and the final girl isn’t exactly who you’d expect.

(Everything that follows contains significant spoilers. Read at your discretion.)

The protagonist of Sleepaway Camp is Angela, the lone survivor of a boating accident that killed her father and her brother, Peter. Years after the accident, her aunt Martha, with whom she now lives, sends her to Camp Arawak with her cousin Ricky. Angela is painfully shy and refuses to go near the water, which leads to the other campers tormenting her incessantly. Ricky’s quick to defend her, but the bullying is relentless. One by one, Angela’s tormenters are murdered in increasingly grotesque ways (the most disturbing involves a curling iron brutally entering a woman’s vagina).

So come the end of the film, when it’s revealed that Angela is the murderer, there’s no particular shock – after all, why wouldn’t she want to seek revenge on her tormentors? But the fact that Angela is the murderer isn’t the point, because when we find out she’s the murderer we see her naked, and it is revealed that she has a penis. We quickly learn through flashbacks that it was, in fact, Peter who survived the boat accident, and Aunt Martha decided to raise him as a girl. The ending is profoundly disturbing, not because Peter is a murderer or because he is a cross-dresser (because his female presentation is against his will, it isn’t accurate to call him transgender), but because he has been abused so deeply by his aunt and his peers that he can’t find a way to cope.

Unlike most slasher movies I’ve seen, I wasn’t horrified by Sleepaway Camp’s body count. Rather, I was horrified by the abuses that catalyze the murders. Peter survived the trauma of watching his father and sister die, only to be emotionally and physically abused by his aunt and forced to live as a woman. At camp, he’s terrified of the water, as it reminds him of the tragic loss of his family, and he’s unable to shower or change his clothes around his female bunkmates, as they might learn his secret. But rather than being understanding and supportive, the other campers harass Peter by forcibly throwing him into the water, verbally taunting him and ruining his chance to be romantically involved with someone who might truly care for him. Not to mention, at the start of camp, he is nearly molested by the lecherous head cook. Peter may be a murderer, but he is hardly villainous – the rest of the characters are the real villains, for allowing the bullying to transpire.

The problem, of course, is that the abuse of Peter isn’t the part that’s supposed to horrify us. The twist ending is set up to shock and disgust the audience, which is deeply transphobic. Tera at Sweet Perdition describes the problem with ending as follows:

But Angela’s not deceiving everybody because she’s a trans* person. She’s deceiving everybody because she’s a (fictional) trans* person created by cissexual filmmakers. As Drakyn points out, the trans* person who’s “fooling” us on purpose is a myth we cissexuals invented. Why? Because we are so focused on our own narrow experience of gender that we can’t imagine anything outside it. We take it for granted that everyone’s gender matches the sex they were born with. With this assumption in place, the only logical reason to change one’s gender is to lie to somebody.

The shock of Sleepaway Camp’s ending relies on the cissexist assumption that one’s biological sex and gender presentation must always match. A person with a mismatched sex and gender presentation is someone to be distrusted and feared. Though the audience has identified with Peter throughout the movie, we are meant to turn on him and fear him at the end, as he’s not only a murderer – he’s a deceiver as well. But, as Tera points out, the only deception is the one in the minds of cisgender viewers who assume that Peter’s sex and gender must align in a specific, proper way. Were this not the point that the filmmakers wanted to make, they would have revealed the twist slightly earlier in the film, allowing time for the viewer to digest the information and realize that Peter is still a human being. (This kind of twist is done effectively in The Crying Game, specifically because the twist is revealed midway through the film, and the audience watches characters cope and come to terms with the reveal in an honest, sensitive way. Such sensitivity is not displayed in Sleepaway Camp.)

And yet, despite its cissexism, Sleepaway Camp has some progressive moments. Most notably, the depiction of Angela and Peter’s parents, a gay male couple, is positive. In the opening scene, the parents appear loving and committed, and there’s even a flashback scene depicting the men engaging in romantic sexual relations. Considering how divisive gay parenting is in the 21st century, the fact that a mainstream film made nearly thirty years ago portrays gay parenting positively (if briefly) is certainly worthy of praise.

Sleepaway Camp is incredibly problematic, but beyond the surface-layer clichés and the shock value of the ending, it’s a fascinating and truly horrifying film. Particularly watching the film today, in an era where bullying is forcing young people to make terrifyingly destructive decisions, the abuses against Peter ring uncomfortably true. Peter encounters cruelty at every turn, emotionally scarring him until he can think of no other way to cope besides murder. Unlike horror movies in which teenagers are murdered as punishment for sexual activity, Sleepaway Camp murders teenagers for the torment they inflict on others. There’s a certain sweet justice in that sort of conclusion, but at the same time, it makes you wish the situations that bring on the murders hadn’t needed to happen at all.

Carrie Nelson was a Staff Writer for Gender Across Borders, an international feminist community and blog that she co-founded in 2009. She works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit, and she is currently pursuing an MA in Media Studies at The New School.

Women in Sports Week: The Roundup

“Edge of America: Indigenous Communitism on the Hardwood” by Amanda Morris

Based on the opening scenes, the viewer might assume that this story is about Kenny, but it is not. This movie ultimately focuses on community, defining one’s own identity, and the grounding strength of women… This film privileges the indigenous perspective from the start and specifically shows strong women guiding the action either explicitly or implicitly.

“Because Being Girly Doesn’t Mean Being Weak: Bring It On“ by Deborah Pless

I was a rebel. A grrrrl. And no cheerleader was going to get in my way or the way of feminism.

So imagine my surprise when partway into the movie I’d rented as a hatewatch I realized that I cared. A lot. I really, really wanted the Rancho Carne Toros to win that darn cheerleading competition. It made me deeply uncomfortable.

“Documentaries That Inspire” by Marcela De Vivo

Over the past decade, however, a number of low-profile yet potent documentaries have arrived to stir up the rules. Here are five documentaries any fan of women’s sports—or sports in general—will not want to miss.

All of these films are as packed with joy and pain as any glossy Hollywood product, and through the passions of their filmmakers, convey a sense of humanity few fiction flicks can compete with.

“Bend It Like Bynes: Ambivalent Empowerment in She’s the Man“ by Caitlin Moran

Viola’s conquest of her gross ex is facilitated through this penalty kick, on a pitch where the winners and losers are clearly delineated. This isn’t a symbolic victory: Viola literally puts the winning point on the board…. Through her athletic talent, Viola gets to vanquish the boy who insulted and belittled her on a playing field where the subsequent victors are easily recognizable.

“The Toughest Trio: A Review of The Boxing Girls of Kabul“ by Rachael Johnson

Boxing has always, of course, been the most traditionally masculine, most brutal and most controversial of sports. Female boxing remains a divisive issue around the world and only became an Olympic event at the London 2012 Games. It is all the more remarkable that girls from a land scarred by gender discrimination have taken up the sport. The girls’ coach, Sabir Sharifi, explains, “The Taliban were absolutely opposed to sports. They had an especially strong opposition to boxing.” A girl boxer in a hijab is an incongruous image for many–or most–Westerners. For the Taliban, female boxing is simply sinful. Boxing has also, however, been the sport of the marginalized and oppressed so it is perhaps unsurprising that these young Afghan women have chosen boxing. The sport for the trio is identified with self-empowerment and female self-worth.

“The Political Gets Personal for Friday Night Lights‘ Jess Merriweather” by Sarah Stringer

In season four, Jess strode into that hyper-masculine domain with every bit as much passion as the male characters, and the extra savvy, self-awareness, and anger that comes from being a woman in a man’s world. She became a cheerleader because it was the only way for a girl like her to get close to the sport she grew up teaching to her much younger brothers, but as she gets older, that’s not enough for her. Helping her little brothers and running drills with her football star boyfriend isn’t enough; she wants to be involved for herself. She convinces Coach Taylor to let her be an equipment manager, with the intention of someday becoming a high school football coach.

“Sports Night: That ’90s Show” by Artemis Linhart

Another particularly remarkable aspect is that these women are in no way portrayed as “butch,” highlighting the (seemingly little-known) fact that characteristics typically associated with femininity (physical and otherwise) and a genuine passion for sports are, in fact, not contradictory.

“Surfers in Blue Crush and Girls in Blue Crush 2“ by Robin Hitchcock

While it takes a sort of post-feminist approach to surfing, Blue Crush attempts to work in some subdued class commentary… Which brings me to Blue Crush 2. This straight-to-video “sequel” is just another movie about surfer girls, with no connection to the original film other than someone paying for the rights to the title. Here we have another white girl protagonist, although this one has the opposite amount of class privilege.

“Five Reasons Why A League of Their Own Is ‘Feminism: The Movie'” by Myrna Waldron

Every single woman on the league was ticked off about the silly uniforms that they were forced to wear, with the frilly skirts instead of pants. They point out how impractical they are, and we see the results of the terrible uniforms when one player gets a severe bruise after taking a rough slide into a base. The newsreels, which constantly try to reaffirm the players’ femininity, come off as a total joke because of how little attention they pay to the players’ athletic abilities. Marla is constantly overlooked by others because she is plain, instead of being celebrated for being the best slugger in the league. One sequence involves a snooty middle-aged woman decrying the “masculinization” of women on the radio, complaining that things like the girls’ baseball team will have longstanding effects on home, children and country. She even calls the league “sexual confusion” and wonders what kind of girls the men overseas will come home to. Well, there WERE longstanding effects on home, children, and country…but hardly the destruction of life as we know it.

“Blast from the Past: Jonathan Kaplan’s Heart Like a Wheel“ by Melissa Richard

Like most “women breaking barriers” films, especially those involving sports, Heart like a Wheel has a sort of against-all-odds feel to it that makes you want to like it, even if you know hokey story lines like that tend to be amped up by filmmakers for the benefit of paying audiences. This is no surprise. What is surprising, however, is that viewers are privy only to a watered-down version of the significant odds that Muldowney really faced.

“The Blind Side: The Most Insulting Movie Ever Made” by Nine Deuce

Well, there it is. Now you see why this movie made 19 kajillion dollars and won an Oscar: it tells a heartwarming tale of white benevolence, assures the red state dweller that his theory that “there’s black people, and then there’s niggers” is right on, and affords him the chance to vicariously remind a black guy who’s boss through the person of America’s sweetheart. Just fucking revolting.

“A Review of The Fighter“ by Jessica Freeman-Slade

And they’re right to fear her: with her steely nerve, Alice is as brazen a coach, Mama Rose in the boxing ring, Joey LaMotta in a push-up bra. When Micky goes absent from her immediate purvey, she shows up on his porch with the sisters in tow, posing questions that put him right back in the place of the apologetic son. “What’re you doing, Mickster?” she asks, her eyes all hard with disdain and disappointment. “Who’s gonna look after you?” Alice knows that mother love—and filial obligation—is one of the most powerful weapons she has.

Call for Writers: Older Women in Film and TV

“Once women passed childbearing age they could only be seen as

grotesque on some level.”

– Meryl Streep

As female actresses age, their roles–in film and television–seem to rapidly diminish. In a 2012 interview with Vogue, Meryl Streep said that when she turned 40 in 1989, “I remember turning to my husband and saying, ‘Well, what should we do? Because it’s over.’” The magazine points out that, “The following year, she received three offers to play witches in different movies.” She has gone on to star in many multifaceted roles, but her observation of ageism in Hollywood–against women specifically–is on point.

In a recent interview, Melanie Griffith described the same frustrations: “It is what I never thought would happen when I was in my 20s and 30s, hearing actresses b—- about not getting any work when they turned 50. Now I understand it, it is just different. It is all about youth and beauty, for women anyway…”

While some publications point out that the “over-40 actress” is seeing fame and fortune in today’s Hollywood, others depressingly point out that this might have something to do with an advance in “anti-ageing techniques” (while citing Tina Fey’s assertion in Bossypants that men cast who they find “fuckable”). Not surprisingly, a majority of women between 50-75 have reported being unsatisfied with the representation of their age bracket (and especially their sexual desires) on film. Older mother/daughter duos on screen are often just a few years apart in real life.

Bitch Flicks‘s Robin Hitchcock looked at statistics from the Oscars over the years, and found that female actresses win more awards when they are young, and male actors win more awards as they age. It’s all too clear not only what Hollywood values, but also what we’ve been conditioned to expect. Statistically, male protagonists may get older, but their love interests do not.

This month at Bitch Flicks, our theme week will explore “Older Women in Film and TV,” and we are excited to open up the floor to analysis of films and television shows that get older women right, and those that get older women wrong. We look for analysis of the film or show as a text, but also for specific character studies, in addition to general commentary.

Below is just a sampling of films and television shows that highlight older women:

Amour
Harold and Maude
Away From Her
Golden Girls
The Joy Luck Club
Refuge
Damages
Over the Hill Band
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work
Made in Dagenham
Calendar Girls
Shirley Valentine
Another Happy Day
The Stone Angel
Hot in Cleveland
RED
RED 2
The Iron Lady
The Turning Point
Something’s Gotta Give

First Wives Club
Being Julia
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Bread and Tulips
Absolutely Fabulous
All About Eve
The Hot Flashes
Under the Tuscan Sun
Two For The Road
Young at Heart
Death Becomes Her
Fried Green Tomatoes

Hope Springs

Lovely, Still

Mrs. Henderson Presents

Here are some basic guidelines for guest writers:

–Pieces should be between 700 and 2,000 words.

–Include images (with captions) and links in your piece, along with a title for your article.
–Send your piece in the text of an email, attaching all images, no later than Friday, September 20.
–Include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece.

Email us at btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com if you’d like to contribute a review. We accept original pieces or cross-posts. You may either send us a query and a writing sample or a completed piece for consideration.

We look forward to reading your submissions!

Women with Disabilities Week: The Roundup

Crazy Bitches Versus Indulgent Little Girls: The Binary of Mad Women in Girl, Interrupted by Sarah Domet

At its core, Girl, Interrupted strives to be a feminist film. However, I find the film’s representations of “mad women” problematic, particularly the ways in which mental illness becomes so closely linked with eroticized otherness. And here is where the film’s deep ambivalence comes into play: it attempts to dispel the myth of what it means to be a mentally ill woman, while at the same time reinforcing cultural stereotypes that portray mentally ill women as hypersexual, dangerous, amoral, or inherently unfeminine. In the end, Girl, Interrupted posits mental illness as a choice from which one, like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, can always return.

Glee‘s Not So Gleeful Representation of Disabled Women by Erin Tatum

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.

The Patronizingly “Adorable” Side of Schizophrenia in Benny & Joon by Carleen Tibbetts

Benny agrees not to put Joon in a group home but have her live in her own apartment (conveniently managed by his now-girlfriend, Ruthie) with Sam. EVERYTHING IS SUPER AWESOME FUN TIME! LOOK HOW ADORABLE SCHIZOPHRENIA CAN BE! The credits roll with Sam and Joon making little grilled cheese sandwiches with an iron! Yes! They’re going to make it on his video store wages and illiteracy, and she’s presumed jobless and in the care of another male authority figure! She doesn’t need professional treatment! She just needs a boyfriend!

Blindness, Race and Love in A Patch of Blue by Leigh Kolb

A Patch of Blue portrays disability as a part of a woman’s life that only defines her because she’s grown up with an abusive and neglectful family. As soon as she gets access to a world (literally and figuratively) outside of their little apartment, she thrives, and we know she’s just going to continue to grow. She’s beginning her life–a life that won’t be defined by her blindness.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Explores Disability in “Melora” by Jarrah Hodge

I think the motivation behind “Melora” was great, but overall I thought the messages were a little unclear. I saw that Melora doesn’t have to change her disability, but she does have to change her attitude. Ultimately, that personal transformation to being more “dependent” was what tied the story together more than a reaffirmation of her uniqueness…

But ultimately, no matter what happened in this episode, you’re always going to have problems using a single character as a stand-in for an entire group of people. To really do justice to the diverse experiences of people with disabilities, we need more people with disabilities in TV shows generally (actors and characters), playing a range of parts, including recurring roles that give us a chance to see more complete and complex identities.

One Woman Holds the Breakthrough Key in The Miracle Worker by Janyce Denise Glasper

It is easy to place an incomprehensible diagnosis inside a box and throw away logic. Back in the turn of 19th century, people of Helen’s delicate condition would have been sentenced inside “madhouses” because no one knew how to communicate with them or even try. Jimmy is oblivious in seeing that Helen’s manic outbursts are not signs of mental disorder. Helen’s incoherent mumbles, cries, and physical punches stem from frustrations of an isolated mind desiring to learn how to address humankind–not doctors, needles, and shock therapy. It doesn’t help that Kate wants to keep Helen just to baby her and Captain Keller simply obliges Kate’s wishes to have their daughter close. They love her, but none of them realize what Helen sincerely needs.

Call for Writers: Women in Sports

For some reason, Netflix keeps giving me a list of Sports Movies I Might Like. It took me about nine years of scrolling through the list to find a single Sports Movie featuring a woman—A League of Their Own (which is also the only woman-centered film Complex included on their list of “25 Best Sports Movies Streaming on Netflix Right Now”).

A League of Their Own, however, is not the only Sports Movie ever made about women. (And not to knock it, but the most famous scene in the film revolves around a dude—a drunk Tom Hanks yelling “There’s no crying in baseball” at one of the players). The lack of availability of these films, though, especially on a large-scale platform like Netflix, is yet another instance of women’s stories not being taken seriously.

And while there are a number of important articles that appear when you google “women in sports movies,” the second hit that comes up (after Wikipedia) is “Top 10 Hottest Women in Sports, Movies, Television and Whatever.” The one after that? ESPN’s ridiculously titled, “Evil Women of Sports Movies.”

Gross.

There are, fortunately, so many amazing organizations counteracting this nonsense by supporting women and girls in sports, from the Women’s Sports Foundation to the Feminist Majority Foundation.

Of course, we couldn’t have this conversation at all if it weren’t for Title IX. The law, passed in 1972, states that:

No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.

This has undoubtedly influenced and empowered women and girls, and people are more willing to push back against discrimination now; Cassy Blythe’s Facebook page, “Let Her Play”—in honor of her 12-year-old daughter Maddy—has almost 50,000 likes.

But Dave Zirin wrote in his article for The Nation called, “Serena Williams and Getting ‘Emotional’ for Title IX” that in 1972, the majority of the public agreed with sports columnist Furman Bisher’s opinion of Title IX when he wrote:

What are we after, a race of Amazons? Do you want a companion or a broad that chews tobacco? What do you want for the darling daughter, a boudoir or a locker room full of cussing and bruises? A mother for your grandchildren or a hysterectomy?

Okay, bro.

We’ve certainly made great strides in girls’ and women’s participation in sports, but those stories aren’t showcased as often as they should be onscreen. Even when those stories are told, they tend to be problematic—either reducing women to objects or painting them as manly, tomboyish, and therefore unattractive. (There are notable exceptions, of course, and feel free to write about them. Just don’t feel bad for wanting to write a scathing piece about Adrian’s relationship with Rocky, for instance.) In order to more fully explore some common tropes about women in sports movies, male-centric films aren’t necessarily off limits—as long as the focus remains on how the women characters are most affected in the film.

Take a look at the oh-so-incomplete list below for general ideas about a potential topic. And if you’re especially feeling the Sports Theme, watch Julie Foudy, Olympic gold medalist and World Cup star, talk about the importance of Title IX and the necessity of educating our youth about its history.

As a reminder, these are a few basic guidelines for guest writers on our site:

–We like most of our pieces to be 1,000 – 2,000 words, preferably with some images and links.

–Please send your piece in the text of an email, including links to all images, no later than Friday, August, 23rd.

–Include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece.

Email us at btchflcks(at)gmail(dot)com if you’d like to contribute a review. We accept original pieces or cross-posts. We look forward to reading your submissions!

Here are some potential films to write about but please feel free to suggest your own:

Against the Ropes
The Bad News Bears
Bend It Like Beckham
Blue Crush
Bring It On
The Cutting Edge
Eddie
ESPN’s Nine for IX Series
Girlfight
Gracie
Heart Like a Wheel
The Hot Flashes
Ice Castles
Just Wright
A League of Their Own
Love & Basketball
The Mighty Macs
Million Dollar Baby
National Velvet
Off the Rez
Pat and Mike
Personal Best
Quarterback Princess
She’s the Man
Soul Surfer
Trouble with the Curve
Venus and Serena
When Billie Beat Bobby
Whip It
Wildcats
Wimbledon

Disabilities Week: The Patronizingly "Adorable" Side of Schizophrenia in ‘Benny & Joon’

Movie poster for Benny & Joon

This is a guest review by Carleen Tibbetts.

When Bitch Flicks put out the call for reviews regarding the portrayal of “disabled” women, I had a mixed reaction. Most of the suggested films and TV series deal with both physical disabilities and mental illness, but there’s far greater stigma attached to anything psychological, especially when women are involved. The words “crazy” and “insane” get thrown around far too often and get a lot of mileage when it comes to women. It’s easy and dismissive to tell a woman her “craziness” is just a byproduct of her gender, and even more callous to tell a woman with a mental illness that she is thus, and seemingly unable to be helped, bettered, et cetera.

Jeremiah Chechlik’s 1993 film, Benny & Joon is the story of Joon (Mary Stuart Masterson), a twenty-something artist who lives under the care of her older brother, Benny (Aidan Quinn). Benny works full-time as an auto mechanic and has hired a string of “housekeepers,” as he calls them, to keep an eye on Joon during the day. When the last caregiver quits after Joon has an outburst, Benny must leave Joon home alone, where she is content to go about her routine that involves painting and making Captain Crunch and peanut butter smoothies.

Mary Stuart Masterson as Joon and Aidan Quinn as Benny in Benny & Joon

At first, it appears as if Joon is just a bit quirky, or perhaps a stereotypical “temperamental artist.” Aside from the manic rate at which she produces her paintings, her need to adhere to routine, her idiosyncrasies, and her flat mannerisms suggest she might present as Autistic. Her extreme pickiness regarding food would be another indicator of being somewhere on the spectrum when, at one point in the film, she refuses to eat raisins in her tapioca pudding, claiming that they were “humiliated grapes” that “had a their life stolen.” When she leaves the house with a ping-pong paddle and scuba mask to direct traffic, however, this is more characteristic of a schizophrenic or bipolar episode.

Benny knows he can’t leave her unsupervised, but he’s torn about how to handle the situation. Joon’s psychiatrist suggests he place Joon in a group home that would enable her to socialize and perhaps even get a part-time job. His initial reaction is extremely defensive, and explaining that he is Joon’s only family, that he’s always cared for her, and that he’s not “farming her out.” Glimpses of Joon’s medical information (note the screen shots) don’t even indicate what condition or disorder she has been diagnosed with. All we know is that she is on some form of medication, and perhaps it isn’t working too well given her tantrums and erratic behavior. Joon tells Benny not to “underestimate the mentally ill,” yet he continuously undercuts her, treats her like a child, limits her autonomy and decision-making capacities. Further, Benny uses his situation with Joon as a convenient excuse to avoid any kind of romantic entanglements or committed relationships. Potential love interest waitress/apartment manager Ruthie (Julianne Moore) is extremely patient and understanding in her interactions with Joon, yet Benny initially shies away from anything too serious, claiming his life is too complicated and that there really isn’t any room for a woman in his life other than his sister.

Joon’s medical intake form

Another part of Joon’s routine involves her tagging along to Benny’s regular poker nights with several friends. One night when she fills in for him, she ends up “winning” Sam (Johnny Depp), the barely literate, Buster Keaton-obsessed cousin of one of Benny’s friends. Benny agrees to take Sam in for an unspecified amount of time, hoping that Sam could take over “housekeeper” duties and babysit Joon. It really is a wonder that Benny has apparently taken care of her since they were teenagers. He’s so emotionally well-equipped! His thinking is so clear! He doesn’t need to take advice from mental health professionals! He can have an adorable vagabond with no credentials look after Joon!

Sam’s a different sort of socially awkward. He has a penchant for horrible slasher films, which he memorizes word for word, and has an almost sixth sense when it comes to knowing film trivia. It’s as if his brain functions like the IMDb database. Perhaps he’s somewhere on the spectrum. He also has a charming little Chaplinesque physical comedy routine going, complete with top hat, baggy trousers, and cane. Benny’s so impressed he tries to get Sam an agent to book him in comedy clubs. Sam’s blissful naivete serves as a complete counter to put-upon, worry-wart Benny. His presence in the house has a calming effect on Joon, and her whole demeanor changes. She’s met someone who “gets” her. Sam and Joon are kindred spirits. Sam gives Joon a sense of companionship and joy she’s been lacking for most of her adult life. Sam allows Joon to ease up on her routine, takes her out of the house (where Benny keeps her trapped and isolated), running little errands, socializing, basically integrating her into society in little baby steps.

Joon directs traffic with a ping pong paddle

So, for a short time everything is hunky dory. Benny can work without worrying about Joon; he can date a woman who doesn’t demand he put her emotional needs before his responsibilities to his sister; Sam gets a job at a video store; and he and Joon begin to know each other. Biblically. When they break the news to Benny, it sends him into a rage. He tells Sam to get out of the house (being homeless, he just ends up living in a tree in their front yard…), and tells Joon he wants her to live in the group home. He turns all protector father figure, and Joon rebels as would any teenage girl. She tells Benny he wants to keep her sick, doesn’t want her to be happy, and the moment she is left alone, she sneaks out of the house and runs off with Sam.

The two quirky lovebirds get on a bus bound for “anywhere but here,” when Joon starts having an extreme anxiety attack. She starts crying and screaming, and her episode forces the driver to get everyone off the bus and call the paramedics. In a truly heartbreaking scene, Sam watches Joon pace the bus and scream until the paramedics escort her off and take her to a psych ward. She refuses to see anyone, yet Benny and Sam manage to break into the ward. Benny agrees not to put Joon in a group home but have her live in her own apartment (conveniently managed by his now-girlfriend, Ruthie) with Sam. EVERYTHING IS SUPER AWESOME FUN TIME! LOOK HOW ADORABLE SCHIZOPHRENIA CAN BE! The credits roll with Sam and Joon making little grilled cheese sandwiches with an iron! Yes! They’re going to make it on his video store wages and illiteracy, and she’s presumed jobless and in the care of another male authority figure! She doesn’t need professional treatment! She just needs a boyfriend!

Benny watches Joon paint

Here is where the criticism beings … Benny & Joon deals far more with Benny’s “unfortunate” situation of having to care for his sister than it does with Joon herself. Yes, although it does speak to Joon’s creativity, her spirit, etc., it doesn’t address the fact that Benny’s kept her infantilized most of her adult life. It was suggested that Benny place her in a home where she’d be supervised and be able to look for work, yet we don’t know if Joon has a history of trying to unsuccessfully hold down jobs, or if Benny prevented her from ever trying to be responsible and autonomous in the first place. I can’t even begin to address his ridiculous decision to have Joon babysat by a series of non-credentialed “houskeepers” instead of attempting to integrate her into society. I wonder if he was granted power of attorney, legal guardianship, etc. I find it hard to believe that in a situation like that, he was allowed to care for Joon since they were teenagers. How did Social Services not step in at any point? How was he not charged with abandonment and neglect?

Benny sneaks in to see Joon at the mental hospital

This movie is less about Joon herself than it is about her in relation to the men in her life. Yes, at the close it gives the impression that she’s going to be happy and productive but only under close watch of her boyfriend, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend. Fine, maybe she doesn’t need to live in a group home, but it’s important that she go to some form of therapy and see positive examples of highly-functioning schizophrenics, and this is never brought up in the film! She can’t just have medication thrown at her and not pair it with any sort of cognitive and behavioral therapy. Making grilled cheese sandwiches with Johnny Depp doesn’t count.

When I searched for images to include in the piece in addition to the screen shots I took, the movie poster images I came across presented another issue: Joon herself is sidelined and literally sandwiched between the two men in her life: her lover and her brother. Alternate posters depict Johnny Depp alone on a stool. In fact, the Google image search yields more pictures of Johnny Depp than anything else! Where is Joon in all of this? The screen time given to Depp and all his quirky little gimmicks far outweighs scenes that focus on Joon’s interests, her paintings, etc. She’s a talented artist, yet Benny is more concerned with getting Sam work than he is with getting Joon’s art out in the world or enrolling her in an art therapy program, which would have been ideal for her.

Sam and Joon make grilled cheese sandwiches with an iron

There is NOTHING adorable about mental illness. I take huge issue with this film. It trivializes and downplays a serious, crippling disorder. As a woman who was diagnosed bipolar roughly ten years ago and who has been hospitalized, watching scenes in which paramedics tranquilize and forcibly escort a woman to a psychiatric ward is particularly painful and all-too familiar. You cannot have your family members spring you from a psych ward. You cannot check in for a staycation and leave when you feel like it. You are there until the mental health professionals get your cocktail of meds just right, bring you back to a functioning level, and deem you fit for release. In this case, I would think Joon’s psychiatrist would not want to release her into the care of two men who broke into her room and who flagrantly disregarded her professional advice in the first place.

Living with mental illness means constantly having your state of mind questioned. It means family members and long-term friends not being able to understand or relate to your struggles, your episodes. This often leads to strained romantic relationships where genetics are even called into question. Say Joon and Sam keep going strong. If they chose to have children, is she capable of being a parent? Could she stay off her meds during her pregnancy without having another episode? My ex’s parents asked me at one point in our eight-year relationship if I could even have children, because they wanted grandkids in the worst way. It was one of the most callous, insensitive, and derogatory things anyone had ever said to me in relationship to my disorder. Obviously, the mentally “ill” are capable of having children, or else these conditions would cease to exist.

Joon has a panic attack on the bus

Benny & Joon, despite all its charm and whimsy, really glosses over a serious, potentially debilitating condition. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its delightful moments, but it fails to realistically address Joon’s history or possible outcomes for her future well-being. Joon is defined in by the men in her life, and as a result, is stifled, crippled, and unable to break out on her own. She needs to be taken care of, coddled. Apparently, to quote the Proclaimers theme song that opens and closes the film, Joon just needs a man to fall down at her door. Yes, it’s Hollywood, and we all want happy endings, but the underlying message that all Joon really needs is a stable romantic relationship rather than a stable relationship with herself, especially in relation to functioning in the outside world, is completely misguided.

Carleen Tibbetts lives in Oakland and edits at Similar:Peaks:: Her work has appeared in kill author, Word Riot, Metazen, Monkeybicycle, Coconut, H_NGM_N, horse less press, Boog City, The Rumpus, HTMLGIANT, and elsewhere.

Wedding Week: The Roundup

Father of the Bride Values Relationships With Women by Mab Ryan

Father of the Bride (1991) is aptly named, as its focus is not on the wedding itself or the couple involved but on the titular character’s neuroses and journey to maturity. The wedding is the backdrop and the incident that provokes growth in the main character; it follows the wedding script in toto, so if you’re unfamiliar with any of the conventions of a traditional US wedding, this movie is a great primer. It’s an outrageously expensive, white wedding for thin, wealthy, white folks. People of color and gay men exist as support staff and magical queers. But the movie’s take on gender roles is constructive. Despite its focus on a male character, the movie is really about the affection a father feels for his daughter. He’s always recognized her as an individual person; now he must recognize her as an individual adult person.

Coming to America and Coming to Terms with New Marriage Traditions by Leigh Kolb

The plot is pretty predictable. Female subservience is challenged, but standards of female beauty aren’t. The characters aren’t remarkably complex, but their motives are clear and almost always understandable. That said, this is a romantic comedy. I don’t mean to demean the genre as a whole, but I think it’s safe to say most blockbuster romantic comedies are pretty damn problematic, so to have a romantic comedy that subverts the notion of valuing wives who are simply beautiful and submissive while featuring a predominantly black cast and depicting Africa positively, I’d say that’s a win.

Do or Do Not by Emily Campbell

And this is where the real problem comes in. We’re clearly supposed to feel bad for Jack’s plight and the DOMA-fueled injustice being heaped on him. But as things escalate and Jack suddenly falls for Spanish architect Mano (Maurice Compte), the casual viewer is more likely to feel bad for Ali, who has to deal with him gallivanting all over the place and not even trying to make their relationship seem remotely realistic. Her future is on the line right along with Jack’s, but Jack never seems to have an inkling of just how big of a risk they’re taking for his sake.

The Top Hollywood Wedding Scenes by Marcela De Vivo

Weddings in the movies and in television always seem to be more elaborate than those we experience in reality. Fictional characters with traditionally low-paying jobs somehow find a way to have a wedding that would cost literally a million dollars in the real world. They’re often over-the-top with hundreds of guests, extravagant meals and elaborate ice sculptures–you know, fluff.

Another Indie Wedding … And Breakup in Save the Date by Rachel Redfern

This is the second time I’ve seen Lizzy Caplan in her easy portrayal of the emotionally damaged wild child, the first being in Bachelorette where similarly, the wedding brings up all of her feelings about past relationships and a surprise pregnancy. It’s a character I like, one that while not original, is also not the most common of characters (similar to Natalie Portman in Friends With Benefits, Charlize Theron in Sweet November). But I like the character; it’s one where, rather than neurotic, and desperately searching for love and marriage, she’s the opposite–skittish and non-committal, frustrating and sexy.

Bride Wars: When Weddings Drive a Bitch Crazy by Alisande Fitzsimons

No, in Bride Wars that brand of madness is entirely female. This says nothing good or particularly realistic about the state of mind of the modern adult female. I mean, yes, we get hurt and pissed off when our friends do something that seems designed to cause pain to us, but how many of us who are not mentally ill follow them around, actively trying to ruin one of the most significant and expensive days of their lives?

Why We All Need to See Bridesmaids by Molly McCaffrey

Kristen Wiig’s character goes through the same kinds of ordeals we all go through—the kind that make us question who we are and what life is about. And her struggles are so frustrating and so moving that I found myself actually sobbing through the middle of the movie. The crazy thing about it is that while I was sobbing, I also started laughing. I’ve laughed and cried in a movie, but I’ve never before done both at the same time, and I did both while watching this movie more than once. I always tell my students that over-the-top comedy only works if it is paired with real, honest emotion, and my response proves that is something Bridesmaids does really well.

Shrek: Happily Ever After Gets a Green Makeover by Megan Wright

Fiona’s self-loathing over her ogre self goes extremely deep. When she confesses that she’s an ogre to Donkey, she says that no one would want to marry a beast like her. Shrek overhears this, and believes she’s talking about him. When he confronts her about it, and throws her words back in her face, she immediately assumes he’s talking about her. Fiona has overheard Shrek make comments about his identity as an ogre and the issues that come with it, so it wouldn’t be a huge leap for her to consider the possibility that Shrek overheard her and thought she was talking about him. But Fiona’s self loathing runs so deep that she doesn’t even consider the possibility.

Sex and the City: The Movie We Hate to Love by Amanda Morris

Revisiting this film five years later (as a happily paired person once again), I find myself chafing against the film even as I enjoy the drama. The choices and mistakes that Carrie make from the time that she and Big decide to marry to the moment he leaves her at the altar about a third of the way through the story are the choices and mistakes that many modern American women make: ignore the man and his wishes, allow friends to convince you that you need a fancier dress, venue, event, and become more enamored with the grandeur and history of a luxurious location over the real fears and concerns your partner has about a large, intimidating, and ostentatious event.

My Best Friend’s Wedding Is a Right-Wing Nightmare Interpretation of Women by Mab Ryan

To make matters more homophobic, in a move that makes absolutely no sense, George is press-ganged into playing the part of Julianne’s fiancé. It’s really gross to watch a gay man forced to play beard to a straight woman, shoved into a closet to suit her conniving privilege. Kimmy hyperventilates in relief that Julianne is apparently no longer her competition, because nothing promises a more stable marriage than making sure there are no hot women around to tempt your man. George gets his revenge by telling apocryphal stories about meeting Julianne in a mental institution where she was receiving shock therapy, because we might as well add mocking the mentally ill to this movie’s list of sins.

Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing and the Wedding That Wasn’t by Lady T

Leonato’s denunciation of Hero is the most disturbing moment of the film, as it should be. Verbal and physical abuse at the hand of a lover or boyfriend is traumatizing and life-altering, but there is something profoundly and uniquely painful in suffering at the hands of a parent. The casting of Clark Gregg, aka everyone’s favorite Agent Coulson from The Avengers, is a particularly brilliant move; any fan of Joss Whedon’s is conditioned to see Gregg as a good guy, and the moment of betrayal feels particularly pointed when coming from the mouth of such a likable actor.

Bigger Than Big: Marriage and Female Bonding in Sex and the City: The Movie by Jenny Lapekas

So, is this a feminist film? Well, I think it highlights the significance of female friendship, but Carrie falling comatose when she’s jilted at the altar seems a bit much. While Carrie hires an assistant to organize her life, romantic love seems to be the ultimate goal. Meanwhile, Carrie bonds with the separated Miranda by telling her that she’s “not alone,” she reaches an understanding with the anti-marriage Samantha, and she celebrates Charlotte’s baby-bliss, even as she mourns her relationship, which has not actually ended. The film has its moments, and Carrie overcomes her obstacles without the direction or approval of any man. However, the film’s bigoted lines and treatment of Louise as a modern-day slave leave a bad taste in my mouth.

The HitchDied Guide to Wedding Movies by Robin Hitchcock

Even though I had fun with it, I have to say if you are engaged, you should probably limit your exposure to wedding movies. Because so many of them end with broken engagements or dramatic jiltings at the altar, you’ll start seeing potential wedding saboteurs in all your friends, family, and hired wedding professionals. You’ll see the obviously doomed engagements at the start of those movies and worry that if those characters could be so deluded, are you and your partner as well? You’ll think spending thousands of dollars renting chairs is ok because at least you didn’t invite random strangers from your mother’s past for an ABBA-scored paternity-off.

You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You: Muriel’s Wedding and the Promise of Bridal Transformation by Jessica Freeman-Slade

Muriel’s Wedding is basically a cautionary tale about valuing status and reputation over real connection. Muriel knows that she’s happy with Rhonda in Sydney, but by fulfilling her fantasies of beauty, wealth, and romantic achievement, she forgets her real strength: her honesty, decency, and kindness. These strengths were all there in her mother, Betty, whose cruel fate turns the movie from a girly romp into something much more meditative. She is talked over, pushed around, and utterly ignored, invisible even in her own home. Betty barely gets a moment of self-determination before she commits suicide, and her presence is felt most deeply in the frightening image of the Heslop backyard: a swath of literally scorched earth, where nothing can grow if nothing is tended and cared for.

“You Were Dead Until Now”: A Review of Bride Wars by Ece Okar

There is one redeeming quality in this movie, and that is when Emma–who is a people pleaser for much of the movie–eventually starts to grow a backbone, while Liv–who is pushy and determined–softens up by the end. I’m hoping that the audience can take from these character shifts that women can be both determined and compassionate and that it is not disadvantageous to be both.

Jumping the Broom Addresses Racial Hangups While Marrying Ancestral Tradition by Janyce Denise Glasper

Jumping the Broom focuses on two strong customs — one being jumping the broom that has predated slavery, which Jason’s mother Pamela strongly supports, and saving sex for marriage. Sabrina and Jason obviously have strong physical desires for one another, but they’re willing to postpone physical intercourse and are continuing to know each other on various intimate levels — emotional primarily. This isn’t essentially common in most romantic films, especially an African American centric film.

Four Weddings and a Funeral: 20 Years Later and Still So Far to Go by Myrna Waldron

Twenty years after Four Weddings and a Funeral, it strikes me that very little has changed. If this film were made today, Gareth and Matthew could enter into a formal civil partnership, but regardless, Charles may not have realized just how deep and committed their relationship had been all along. It’s still very bitter and chilling that it was the committed gay couple that was separated by death. The real theme of this film isn’t weddings and marriage, it’s commitment. Twenty years later, there’s still so little representation of disabled people in films. I honestly can’t think of another film I’ve seen with a deaf-mute character. There should have been more racial minorities in the cast, even in minor roles, instead of just one 5-second shot of a black extra at the funeral. And as comparatively progressive as this film is, all it does is make me think how ridiculous American films look. A film made in a country with a fraction of the US population is more representative of minorities than most films made in a country with 316 million goddamn people.

Sixteen Candles, Rape Culture, and the Anti-Woman Politics of 2013 by Stephanie Rogers

People who claim to believe films and TV and pop culture moments like this are somehow disconnected from perpetuating rape need to take a step back and really think about the message this sends. I refuse to accept that a person could watch this scene from an iconic John Hughes film—where, after a party, a drunk woman is literally passed around by two men and photographed—and not see the connection between the Steubenville rape—where, after a party, a woman was literally passed around by two men and photographed.

These posts about wedding films previously appeared at Bitch Flicks:

Movie Review: Rachel Getting Married by Stephanie Rogers

Rachel Getting Married: A Response by Amber Leab

Documentary Preview: Arusi Persian Wedding by Amber Leab

Review in Conversation: Sex and the City: The Movie by Stephanie Rogers and Amber Leab

Bachelorette Proves Bad People Can Make Great Characters by Robin Hitchcock

Feminism in Aiyyaa and Why It Ain’t Such a Bad Movie by Rhea Daniel

Realistic Depictions of Women and Female Friendship in Muriel’s Wedding by Libby White

Romantic Comedy (and Female Friendship) Arranged Marriage Style by Rachel Redfern

Movie Review: Something Borrowed by Megan Kearns

Movie Review: Melancholia by Olivia Bernal

The Five-Year Engagement: Exploration of Gender Roles & Lovable Actors Can’t Save Rom-Com’s Subtly Anti-Feminist Message by Megan Kearns

Bros Before Hoes, or How Kidnapping Makes for Great Dance Numbers: On Seven Brides for Seven Brothers by Jessica Freeman-Slade

Movie Review: Melancholia by Hannah Reck

Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids by Janyce Denise Glasper

“Love” Is “Actually” All Around Us (and Other Not-So-Deep Sentiments) by Lady T

Everything You Need to Know About Space: 10 Reasons to Watch (and Love!) Imagine Me & You by Marcia Herring

The Reception of Corpse Bride by Myrna Waldron

Movie Review: Room In Rome by Djelloul Marbrook

Movie Review: 500 Days of Summer by Stephanie Rogers

(95) Minutes of Pure Torture: 500 Days of Summer by Deborah Nadler

Gay Rights and Gay Times: Gender Commentary in Husbands by Rachel Redfern

Bridesmaids: Brunch, Brazilian Food, Baking, and Best Friends by Laura A. Shamas

Call for Writers: Representations of Women with Disabilities in Film and TV

It’s rare to see people with disabilities onscreen. On top of that, films and television shows love to tell the stories of heterosexual white men, so it only makes sense that the most prominent characters with disabilities are heterosexual and white. We could create a long list of those representations in film and TV, but we want to focus on representations of women with disabilities for this theme week. We won’t define “disability” for this; we’re looking for your takes on these films, whether it’s focusing on a woman with Alzheimer’s disease, a woman with a physical or developmental disability, or a woman with mental health problems. It’s fine to write scathing reviews, but we hope to find some wonderful representations out there, too. But, as Michael P. Murphy writes:

In movies, on TV or in novels, physically disabled characters are rarely the protagonists. Rather, the disability is the catalyst which propels the main character–generally a photogenic, able-bodied person–to act/react/grow/save/emote/empathize. The token disabled person serves one dramatic purpose: moral impetus for the hero.

This list of disability tropes from TVtropes.org is also a helpful resource.

To submit, please e-mail us a brief proposal at btchflcks[@]gmail[dot]com with the subject line “submission.” We accept both original pieces and cross posts, and we respond to queries within a few days.

We like most of our pieces to be between 1,000-2,000 words, preferably with some links and images. Please send your piece in the text of an e-mail, including links to all images, and include a 2-3 sentence bio for placement at the end of your piece. The deadline to receive finished pieces is July 19th at midnight.

Here is a list of some films and TV shows that would fit in with this theme week, but it isn’t exhaustive. Please propose your own ideas, too!

Away from Her
Dancer in the Dark
Babel
Homeland
Silver Linings Playbook
The Miracle Worker
Sybil
Girl, Interrupted
Curb Your Enthusiasm
The Other Sister
The Secret Life of Bees
The Piano
Benny & Joon
Push Girls
Love and Other Drugs
Phoebe in Wonderland
Million Dollar Baby
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
United States of Tara
Frida
Orphan
My Sister’s Keeper
An Affair to Remember
Glee
Pauline & Paulette
Blue Sky
Children of a Lesser God
Frances
Grey’s Anatomy
The Horse Whisperer
Iris
Molly
‘Night Mother
Girls
Return to Me
Steel Magnolias
The Three Faces of Eve
The Guild
Wait Until Dark
Passion Fish
Soul Surfer
My Gimpy Life

“Once women passed childbearing age they could only be seen as grotesque on some level.” – Meryl Streep

“Once women passed childbearing age they could only be seen as

grotesque on some level.”

– Meryl Streep