Tom Hanks – Bitch Flicks

We’re All for One, We’re One for All in ‘A League of Their Own’

At the end, many of the league’s players reunite to be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Old friendships rekindle and emotions soar. After following these women through what must have been the best time they ever had in their youth it is refreshing to see authentic portrayals of them as older women. It feels like their lives are unfolding before my eyes.

This guest post by Rhianna Shaheen appears as part of our theme week on Female Friendship.

I’ve seen quite a few female friendships on screen that I’ve liked, but I never get tired of A League of Their Own (1992). As an alumna of a women’s college, this film especially hits home, making me nostalgic for my Bryn Mawr days. Each time I watch it I become homesick for that place and that community where we were all young pioneers in our own way. I often project myself onto older Dottie, imagining myself old and grey at my class reunion in a similar fashion to the film’s ending sequence. Instant tears!

While narratives about groups or duos of female friends are common to the “chick flick” genre, large and diverse casts of women seem to be a rarity in film and TV unless it’s high school rivalries or incarcerated women. Not only does this provide us with a limited scope of representation but it also perpetuates harmful stereotypes that affect young women as well as a society that equates women’s leadership to being “bossy” or “pushy.”

The media’s portrayal of women and female friendships is too often characterized by catfights and “bitchiness” toward each other in the competition for a man. These harmful images of girls and women have become so pervasive to our culture that large communities of women are often viewed as detrimental to progress or success. Male friendships and communities are encouraged at a young age through sports teams and Boy Scouts, while communities of women are stigmatized by the patriarchy as “bitchy,” “too emotional,” or “too much drama.”

I myself was under a similar delusion before I applied to three of the Seven Sisters Colleges. Most people who tried to dissuade me either pointed to the lack of male students as being a deficit to my happiness or some other gross sexist, homophobic stereotype. A League of Their Own celebrates so much of what makes largely female communities special and the bond between the individuals so powerful.

A story told about the founding of women’s professional baseball could have taken many directions. I am thankful that it did not fall into any of those ugly stereotypes in order to propel the narrative. The women in this film have relationships with each other that are put first over any relationships they may or may not have with men. As a result, we have a film that provides us with three-dimensional portraits of women and the intricacies of their friendships during a time of transition in the 1940s.

Dottie takes charge when Coach Dugan proves useless

When the Rockford Peaches first come together for their first ever game as a team they look to their manager and former baseball star Jimmy Dugan (Tom Hanks). To their surprise he treats the whole thing as a joke citing, “I don’t have ballplayers, I’ve got girls. Girls are what you sleep with after the game, not, not what you coach during the game.” He comes into the locker room drunk and completely useless. Without a lineup for the game, Dottie Hinson (Geena Davis) steps up and quickly assumes the role of coach for a good majority of the film. Despite a drunken manager and the sexist heckles from the empty stadium, these women pull together a lineup and easily win their first game.

Mae (Madonna) gives Shirley (Ann Cusack) reading lessons

As these women spend more time together they learn to grow as ballplayers and sisters. Many of my favorite scenes are the brief vignettes that occur throughout the film that give us a deeper glimpse into their lives and character. Early in the film, Dottie and her younger sister Kit (Lori Petty) stand up for Marla Hooch (Megan Cavanagh) when talent scout Ernie Capadino (Jon Lovitz) rejects her as possible player due to her plain looks. Both sisters refuse to go with him unless he accepts Marla, who is as good of a player as any of them. On the bus, Mae teaches her teammate Shirley how to read by having her sound out the words from a smutty novel. When asked about her choice of literature Mae responses: “What difference does it make? She’s reading, okay? That’s the important thing.” In the same sequence, Doris (Rosie O’Donnell) opens up about her abusive boyfriend back home to the other women. She discusses the importance of this league and the support of her teammates in shaping her own self-esteem: “I mean, look. There’s a lot of us. I think we’re all all right.” While these players may clash at times there is none of the cattiness or “girl hate” concocted by the patriarchy.

The Peaches garner more publicity to save the league

The next problem becomes the fact that the women’s league isn’t bringing enough fans into the stadium or profit to the owners of the league. When there’s talk of closing them down these women band together and “give them everything [they’ve] got” to save the league. A photo of Dottie doing the splits while catching a ball behind home plate hits the cover of Life magazine and the crowds soon follow. Even “All the Way” Mae brainstorms ways to help their publicity drive: “What if at a key moment in the game my, my uniform bursts open and, uh, oops…my bosoms come flying out? That, that might draw a crowd, right?” While the league’s owner, Mr. Harvey (Garry Marshall), is not convinced of its worth until after Kit has been traded off to another team, there’s no doubt that the camaraderie between these women singlehandedly kept morale high and saved major league baseball through World War II.

No matter what team they’re on... — No matter what team they’re on…

...the bond between sisters cannot be broken — …the bond between sisters cannot be broken

While A League of Their Own serves mostly as a “memory movie” in which Dottie relives the memory of something she thought “was never really important to [her],” the most satisfying part of the film has to be the fast-forward to the reunion. At the end, many of the league’s players reunite to be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Old friendships rekindle and emotions soar. After following these women through what must have been the best time they ever had in their youth it is refreshing to see authentic portrayals of them as older women. It feels like their lives are unfolding before my eyes. As pioneers for women in sports, they become immortalized into history through an exhibit dedicated to them. However, it’s only when they sing their Victory Song that the unending power of their sisterly bond truly can be understood:

We are the members of the All-American League.

We come from cities near and far.

We’ve got Canadians, Irishmen and Swedes,

We’re all for one, we’re one for all.

We’re All-Americans!

While ALOTO is sometimes called the “ultimate chick flick of sports” I would challenge that notion.

1. That label is problematic in the larger scheme of film culture. “Chick flick” often suggests a plotline that centers on love and romance, which, excuse me, is extremely nebulous and could be any film. The way it is thrown around in “filmspeak” often implies frivolity and artlessness, making it taboo for film lovers to love or engage with these films. Even worse, is it argues that men and women are inherently different even though there is no equivalent for films geared toward male audiences, ostracizing the experiences of women or female lead stories.

ALOTO is rather a deconstruction of that very term, because it does not present the story of the first All-American Girls Professional Baseball League as the “male version” of x,y, or z movie but instead presents a true female experience in a little-known chapter of American sports history that all audiences can appreciate and find relatable.

2. A League of Their Own is an excellent film, with great direction by Penny Marshall, remarkable acting, and superb writing – it gave us some of the most memorable lines in film history. (“There’s no crying in baseball!”) My question is: how was this film not considered for ANY Academy Awards in 1993? The truth is that films about female friendships are still not taken seriously and condemned to the seemingly second-rate status of “chick flick.” Meanwhile, dude-friend movies (Good Will Hunting, The Shawshank Redemption, The Lord of the Rings) or dude-baseball movies (Field of Dreams, Moneyball) flourish and are considered universally hilarious (Dumb and Dumber, Anchorman, The Hangover) or Oscar-worthy.

While I could ruminate on this until my hair falls out, the truth is my energy would be better spent on the many stories still waiting to be told. I can only hope that A League of Their Own inspires others to believe as I do that the female bond is a powerful narrative arc worthy of being explored outside its current limited representation.

Rhianna Shaheen is a student filmmaker and artist with hopes of writing more in the future. She recently graduated from Bryn Mawr College with a BA in Fine Arts and Minor in Film Studies and Art History. She currently spends most of her time on an epic quest for a fulltime job. Check her out on twitter!

The Soundtrack for ‘That Thing You Do!’ Withstands the Test of Time

‘That Thing You Do!’ with its sly humor, strong performances and ultimately heartwarming romance makes for satisfying viewing. It’s a meditation on the tension between art and commerce that manages to acknowledge what can be good about temporary fame. It’s also a squeaky-clean antidote to sordid, drug-filled “Behind-the Music”-type stories, both fictional and real.

That Thing You Do movie poster — *That Thing You Do!* movie poster

This guest post by Lisa Anderson appears as part of our theme week on Movie Soundtracks.

What makes a film’s soundtrack memorable? Some beloved films, such as Pulp Fiction, pull together varying songs to capture the essence of a film, while others, like O Brother Where Art Thou? have artists covering existing songs specifically for the movie in question. That Thing You Do! (1996) took a novel approach somewhere in the middle. Writer/director Tom Hanks collaborated with others to create original songs in the style of various musical genres of the time and record them under the name of fictional musical acts from the movie. Despite its initial popularity and the success of the movie, the resulting album has fallen into relative obscurity, but I believe it still holds up.

The movie itself tells the story of a fictional “One-Hit Wonder” band from 1960s Eerie, Pennsylvania. Young Guy Patterson, played by Tom Everett Scott, is asked to sit in with a band for a local contest after their usual drummer (Giovanni Ribisi in a bit role) breaks his arm. Guy brings a new tempo to the band’s signature song, “That Thing You Do!” and also gives them their new name: The Oneders, which is pronounced “Wonders” but hilariously mispronounced “Oh-nee-ders” on multiple occasions.

The pepped-up version of “That Thing You Do!” becomes a hit, and the Oneders go from local radio play to the state fair circuit to the Billboard charts and national TV. Along the way, they have help from Andrew White (Tom Hanks), their manager with the fictional Play-Tone records, and Faye (Liv Tyler), the lead singer’s mistreated girlfriend, after whom Guy pines. Success turns sour, as it inevitably must (at least in the movies), but not before the audience is treated to many great songs that sound like they’re lifted straight from the 60s.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPMLG8mnCRM”]

As the film opens, we hear “Lovin’ You Lots and Lots,” by the Norm Wooster Singers — a shout-out to the tame, almost muzak-like sound that’s about to be supplanted by rock ‘n’ roll. As the Oneders play gigs, we hear them perform not only “That Thing You Do!” (of course), but also “Little Wid One,” “Dance With Me Tonight,” and “All My Lonely Dreams.” The first two are up-tempo 1960s rock, while the latter is a slow ballad of the sort that the lead singer, Jimmy, apparently has a proclivity for. His post-Oneders band, the Heardsmen, also has two songs on the soundtrack: “She Knows It” and “I Need You (That Thing you Do),” although the latter is also attributed to the Oneders.

It’s when the Oneders go on a state fair tour with other Play-Tone artists that the music gets even more varied. “Hold my Hand, Hold my Heart” by the Chantrellines captures the sound of Black all-girl groups such as the Supremes. “Mr Downtown,” by Freddy Fredrickson, combines a lounge-lizard sound with the feel of a James Bond title song and a dash of Raymond Chandler. Diane Dane sings in the tradition of female soloist torch singers on “My World is Over.” The Vicksburgs, a rock band much like the Oneders, alludes to the era’s fascination with the automobile in “Drive Faster.”

The world of the Oneders is full of instrumental music, too. “Voyage Around the Moon,” by The Saturn 5, is a spot-on homage to surf music. Cap’n Geech and the Shrimp Shack Shooters provide the sound for the Beach-movie phenomenon in “Shrimp Shack,” and are portrayed by the Oneders in a metafictional movie. Not least of all, Del Paxton, Guy’s favorite jazz musician, performs “Time to Blow.” My only regret is that “I am Spartacus,” Del’s Jam session with Guy, didn’t make the cut.

The movie presents some interesting challenges to those interested in social justice analysis, and it’s hard to say whether that’s a weakness of the script or due to the restrictive cultural environment in which the story takes place. The only named Black characters are somewhat stereotyped — the sage Jazz musician Del and Lamar, the cheerful hotel concierge. But Guy expresses a deep respect for specific Black musicians on several occasions, and the movie seems very conscious of how much American music owes to Black musicians.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JJZQzUuN7Eo”]

The movie does less, in my opinion, to redeem its depiction of women. Most of the female characters seem shallow and hyper-focused on their romantic relationships, with the exception of Faye, who is also very relationship-focused, but is given more substance and seems more genuinely interested in music. Unfortunately, this sets her up as an Exceptional Woman — the kind who you know is better than the rest because her friends are all men — and the movie only passes the Bechdel test by a brief early exchange between her and Guy’s girlfriend. She could have more agency in terms of her relationships, too, but the movie does a nice job of contrasting how Jimmy treats her with how Guy treats her. (On a more subversive note, “Little Wild One” is basically all about the sexual double-standard.)

Liv Tyler as Faye in That Thing You Do! — Liv Tyler as Faye in *That Thing You Do!*

In the end, Guy must reconnect with his his love of making music in order to decide what to do with his life after the Oneders. That Thing You Do! is not the least predictable movie ever, but with its sly humor, strong performances and ultimately heartwarming romance makes for satisfying viewing. It’s a meditation on the tension between art and commerce that manages to acknowledge what can be good about temporary fame. It’s also a squeaky-clean antidote to sordid, drug-filled “Behind-the Music”-type stories, both fictional and real.

The soundtrack to That Thing You Do! was released by Epic Records under the name of the label from the movie, Play-Tone Records. Hanks later spun off Play-Tone as his own label, to release other movie and television soundtracks, including Bring It On and the soundtrack to The Sopranos. Almost 20 years later, I remain impressed by the quality of the songs and how closely they imitated the genres of the era, and I heartily recommend both the movie and its music.

‘Saving Mr. Banks’ is More Than Just a Spoonful of Sugar

This piece by Jarrah Hodge is cross-posted with permission from her blog, Gender Focus.

When I saw Disney was making a movie about Walt Disney convincing P.L. Travers to sign over the rights to Mary Poppins, I was expecting to come away at least slightly annoyed. As much as I adore Emma Thompson, who plays Travers, I thought this was going to be a story about a stubborn artist who’s convinced by the magic of Disney to stop being so uptight.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t quite that simple and I found a lot to like about the movie, Saving Mr. Banks.
First off, both Disney and Travers are portrayed as complicated and imperfect human beings, though obviously she’s got more serious issues to resolve here than he does. The film moves back and forth between her trip to Los Angeles to see Disney, having been pushed into it by financial need; and her childhood in Australia struggling with an alcoholic, big-dreaming father (Colin Farrell).
And the film pokes fun at the whole candy-coated Disney empire, mostly through Thompson as a delightfully bitter, acerbic, stiff Travers, who’s appalled at the mountains of cakes and donuts brought in for lunch and the way her hotel room is crammed full of stuffed Disney cartoon characters.

Second, the supporting actors, particularly the women, are outstanding. Ruth Wilson plays Travers’ mother in her flashbacks and every single facial expression and word out of her mouth shows her internal conflict and struggle to get by taking care of three children and worrying about her husband. Disney’s female staffers–Kathy Wilson as Tommie and Melanie Paxson as Dolly–also make a lot out of their relatively small roles.

– Spoiler alert –

Third, while I wouldn’t call it a feminist film on the whole (there’s not a single person of colour to be found, and ultimately it’s still about a woman whose life is defined by men), there are some feminist scenes. In one, Disney asks his staffer, Tommie, to help him decipher what’s really going on with Mrs. Travers.
“You’re a woman, aren’t you?” he asks. Tommie basically responds that he’s wrong to think all women have some innate inability to decipher one another, and he’s wasting his time trying to figure out Travers.
In another scene Travers gets angry at the writers for making Mrs. Banks a suffragette. The choice to portray Mrs. Banks as a suffragette has been debated by feminists. Some see the very mention of the suffrage movement as feminist, while others (including myself) see the ending, where Mrs. Banks gives up her “Votes for Women” sash for her kids’ kite tail, as a refutation of women working and campaigning outside the home.
In Saving Mr. Banks, the writers tell Travers they felt they needed Mrs. Banks to have a “job” or occupation outside the home to justify there being a nanny there. One of the songwriters outright says he feels Mrs. Banks is neglectful. But Travers snaps at them that “being a mother is a job. It’s a very hard job.” The audience knows she’s talking about her own mother as much as Mrs. Banks, and it’s a really poignant moment to see that solidarity.
Oh! And the film actually passes the Bechdel Test, since Tommie and Dolly talk about Travers’ temper, and Travers talks to Dolly about the ridiculous food she keeps bringing in.
On the down side, I found the use of flashbacks a bit over-done, like we were being spoon-fed all the connections. That said, the visuals and acting were enough to keep you hooked in.
There’s a satisfying ending but thankfully it’s not overly simplified or magical. Travers might be satisfied with the new ending that redeems the character of Mr. Banks (and thus her father), but she’s still never going to approve of everything about the movie, especially not the silly, cartoon dancing penguins.
Overall, if you’re looking for a film to see over the holidays, you could do a lot worse than Saving Mr. Banks.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ec8pPQDIOfg”]

Jarrah Hodge is the founder of Gender Focus, a Canadian feminist blog. Jarrah also writes for Vancouver Observer and Huffington Post Canada and has been a guest blogger on “feminerd” culture for Bitch Magazine Blogs. Hailing from New Westminster, BC, she’s a fan of politics, crafts, boardgames, musical theatre, and brunch.

Women in Sports Week: Five Reasons Why ‘A League of Their Own’ is “Feminism: The Movie”

Dottie performs a catch while doing the splits.

Written by Myrna Waldron.

When one thinks of films featuring women in sports, A League of Their Own is probably the first title that comes to mind. It’s such a well known film that it has been preserved in the Library of Congress for being culturally significant, and “There’s no crying in baseball” is an oft-quoted line. The film stars Geena Davis, an outspoken feminist, and was directed by Penny Marshall, a well known comedienne/actress. ALOTO was a huge blockbuster, making $132 million in 1992 dollars. (Roughly $213 million in 2012 dollars) This film proves that a woman director can produce a blockbuster AND that films mostly about women (in a traditionally masculine field) can be successful.

It also beautifully illustrates a few of the core beliefs of feminist philosophy:

Freedom of choice is essential.

The film takes place during WWII, so it was not unusual for the members of the Rockford Peaches to be married with children. Although the men in the story are often contemptuous/sarcastic about the subject (including mentioning which players are married and which ones are single in newsreels), the women notably accept each other’s life choices wholeheartedly. Mae embraces her sexuality completely (Madonna’s basically playing herself with 40s hair), but no one condemns her for it. Marla chooses to leave the league early because she has fallen in love and gotten married. No one resents her; they are genuinely happy for her. Dottie chooses to leave the league to be a wife and mother, and the only one who objects is Jimmy, because he doesn’t want her to have any regrets. Each woman is free to choose how her life turns out, and they all accept and encourage each other.

The importance of female friendship, teamwork, and camaraderie.

The players of the Rockford Peaches have occasional moments of friction, but instantly come together when it’s time to play. They understand each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and are honest with each other when it counts. (Kit unfortunately doesn’t take brutal honesty and criticism very well.) Off the team, they help each other as well. Mae teaches the illiterate Shirley how to read by having her recite an erotic novel out loud. When Mae‘s choice of reading material is questioned, she points out that the important thing is that Shirley is reading. Dottie is also someone who stands up for others. She refuses to join the team unless Kit and Marla are included.

Women can do anything that men can do.

Much of the plot of the movie is concerned with the players of the Rockford Peaches proving what good athletes they are, and changing the minds of the skeptical men around them. Mr. Harvey sees the ‘girls’ as placeholders while many of the men’s major league players are overseas. On their first game, the audience jeers at and teases the players, only to be silenced by their talent. Mr. Lowenstein points out that the women will still play while nursing sprained ankles and broken fingers. The Rockford Peaches players demonstrate willpower, enthusiasm, and skill. Although they never reach the heights of popularity that the male teams get, they gain a devoted audience and respect amongst baseball fans.

Women are meant for more than just the domestic sphere.

Mr. Harvey, and many of the other men employing the women left behind while the men went off to war, failed to foresee the sociological implications of encouraging women to “get out of the kitchen” and fill her patriotic duty by working, and then expecting them to meekly go back into the kitchen once the men came home. This was an opportunity for women to prove that they had something to contribute to the world besides cooking, cleaning and birthing, and once they had a taste of ambition, they weren’t going to let that go. Dottie was perfectly happy being a wife and mother, and that was her choice to make. But for many of the others, they wanted more. Mae refused to return to her tawdry life as a taxi dancer, for instance. The All-American Girls’ Baseball League gave the players the opportunity to work for themselves, and many of them continued to do so well after the war ended.

Sexualization, objectification and gender roles suck.

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.

The Rockford Peaches

As for the type of girls waiting for their husbands, what the men came home to were independent women of free thought. There was enormous social upheaval in the decades following the war, and most of it devoted to getting women out of the constricting domestic sphere and out into the working world. The All-American Girls’ Baseball league is just one real-life example of the type of work women can do if only given the chance. Female athletes are hardly “sexual confusion.” Women are free to choose the homemaker life if they want, but this film’s story proves that women are capable of more than what society thinks they should be.

Myrna Waldron is a feminist writer/blogger with a particular emphasis on all things nerdy. She lives in Toronto and has studied English and Film at York University. Myrna has a particular interest in the animation medium, having written extensively on American, Canadian and Japanese animation. She also has a passion for Sci-Fi & Fantasy literature, pop culture literature such as cartoons/comics, and the gaming subculture. She maintains a personal collection of blog posts, rants, essays and musings at The Soapboxing Geek, and can be reached on Twitter under @SoapboxingGeek.

‘Splash’: A Feminist Tail Tale?

Splash movie poster

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

I was completely in LOVE with Ron Howard’s 1984 film Splash when I was little. I was then and continue now to be obsessed with mermaids. My child brain even thought that in the way hair color changes as you get older, I could become a mermaid as naturally as all that. It’s probably even why I like swimming so much. For a brief moment while doing the butterfly, I can pretend I’m Madison diving into the ocean. Too bad my dolphin kick is for shit.

Jeepers, mermaids are cool.

When I thought about reviewing Splash, I latched onto some of its more surprising, potentially feminist qualities, but upon rewatching it, I found it was a more deeply layered film than I’d realized. One feminist aspect of the movie is that Daryl Hannah’s mermaid Madison overcomes her inability to speak (as dictated by Hans Christian Anderson’s original The Little Mermaid story) through her remarkable intelligence and adaptability.

We watch Madison fall in love with the human world, and her innocent joy humanizes a potentially exotic character while making the audience take another look at many of the things we take for granted: speaking, dancing, ice skating, the gritty beauty of urban landscapes,

“What’s that? Pretty.” – Madison

the satisfaction of a fine meal,

“That’s how we eat lobster where I come from.” – Madison

and the luxury of a hot bath.

For fins: Add water, table salt, and land-legged mermaid.

Most interestingly, though, Madison shows us how influential media is in our perception of who we are and how we fit into our culture. Her first word is “Bloomingdale’s.” A saleswoman (Madison’s first interaction with another woman) even says of an outfit Madison touches, “I couldn’t get one leg in there. My daughter, on the other hand, is lucky; she’s anorexic.” Madison’s first internalization is of society’s definition of femininity, and that internalization goes hand-in-hand with commerce and capitalism. She proceeds to spend the entire day at the mall, buying things, learning English, and aerobicizing with Richard Simmons, using the televisions at an electronics studio. Madison’s first day as a human woman shows us that media dispenses our culture’s expectations, and we must buy into them literally.

Another feminist aspect of Splash is that she doesn’t give up her world to be with a man, though she nearly does (because Tom Hanks’ Allen Bauer character refuses to let her go gracefully, he instead yells at her and derides her). Instead, Allen joins her underwater paradise, and Madison gets to be herself, fishtail and all, which I find intriguing because they make much of her sexual appetite and of how frequently she and Allen have sex…don’t see that happening anymore in the usual way.

Underwater makeout scene.

Most importantly on the feminist front, Madison repeatedly rescues Allen. He is generally the damsel in distress, a complete novice in her world where he faces drowning without her. She rescues him twice from drowning and once from his sickhearted loneliness coupled with the complicatedness of a human world where he never really belonged. From Allen’s youth, he’s shown as a romantic, a dreamer. His adult life and the obligations of being a small business owner have distracted him from the simplicity of love and his soulmate, Madison. Even the way he talks about marriage is all about sidestepping immigration regulations and blood tests; the institution itself is just another symbol of the bureaucracy regulating his life. In the end, Madison frees him from that when she gives him an underwater kiss that allows him to breathe and be “safe.” Yes, it’s problematic to have a woman symbolize a lifestyle or quality of life toward which a man gravitates at the end of the film.

Madison and Allen look on at her underwater civilization.

Do I think the film was intentionally critiquing consumerism and the capitalist, American ideal of femininity? Probably not. Ultimately, the film showed us the wonders of our world through fresh eyes, while drawing attention to its glaring faults (for example, the military force that studies Madison against her will and plans to dissect her). Madison’s goal throughout the film may have been love and a man, but it’s important to note that she began her journey to land only planning to spend a single week with him, valuing her life and home under the sea more than love. Even in love, she was always the strong one, never angry, hurtful, or vindictive as Allen was. Madison is a heroine. She saves people. She’s kind, sensitive, intelligent, motivated, and strong enough to rescue a man or fend off military attackers in scuba gear. She is most definitely not the perfect female heroine, but our heroines should be flawed and can be vulnerable. Regardless, Madison is hands-down the best mermaid EVER depicted on-screen, and that makes her my hero.

5 People Who Should Host the Oscars At Some Point

When Seth MacFarlane was picked to host the 2013 Academy Awards, my esteemed colleague Robin Hitchcock wrote a list of preferable hosts, including the Oogieloves, the Romney sons, and Jennifer Aniston handcuffed to Angelina Jolie. I share many of Robin’s criticisms of him and his mean style of comedy that continually marginalizes already-marginalized people. Occasionally, his jokes can make me laugh very hard (such as the “Fuck You, Thunder!” song from Ted), but those occasions are increasingly rare. I also can’t understand the logic behind picking MacFarlane even from a ratings standpoint; are fans of Seth MacFarlane’s comedy really going to tune into the Academy Awards instead of Seth MacFarlane’s animated shows that air at the same time? Even if the episodes are reruns that night?

A rare inspired bit of MacFarlane comedy

Anyway, MacFarlane’s hosting is a done deal, and I’m going to watch the ceremony no matter who’s hosting. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be a pleasant surprise. For future ceremonies, though, I’d like to see the Academy stop trying to appeal to a younger demographic (remember that disaster with James Franco and Anne Hathaway?) and stick to picking people who will just do a good job. Here are my suggestions for future Oscar hosts, presented in no particular order.

1. Tom Hanks
I would love for the Academy to break its pattern of picking straight white guys, believe me, but I’ll make an exception for Tom Hanks, because Tom Hanks needs to host the Oscars.Tom Hanks is a national treasure. He’s a very good actor, personable, hilarious, and willing to take the piss out of everyone and everything, especially himself. I still remember Steve Martin’s joke from his first hosting gig: “There’s been an update in the plot to kidnap Russell Crowe, and all I have to say is – Tom Hanks, I’m very ashamed of you.” Martin’s joke was funny enough on its own, but then the camera cut to Hanks in the audience looking shame-faced and mouthing, “I’m sorry,” which made it hilarious and memorable.

Also, he did slam poetry about Full House on Jimmy Fallon’s show.

Tom Hanks is a likable guy, and his humor is very surprising and unpredictable without being obnoxiously “edgy” in a “look at me, I’m so edgy because I’m un-PC!” way. Make it happen, Academy.

2. Emma Thompson

Homer Simpson once said about Daniel Craig, “Is America ready for a British James Bond?” (Oh, Homer. Never change.) Others may have a similar question about Emma Thompson: “Is America ready for a British Oscar host?” Well, this American is. Emma Thompson is a multi-talented, classy lady, a renowned actress (and my personal favorite). Sometimes people forget how funny she can be. If you need a reminder, check out her Golden Globes acceptance speech for Sense and Sensibility, where her speech was written in the style of Jane Austen.

Sure, Jane Austen-related humor isn’t going to appeal to every Oscar viewer, but Thompson is versatile in the type of comedy she can do (and has done). She’s charming and witty, and she’d probably completely outclass the joint, which is why the Academy would never pick her, but they should.

3. Neil Patrick Harris and Jane Lynch

Two obvious choices, as they’ve both hosted award shows in recent history, but why not have them host together in an awesomely funny LGBTQ duo? They both know how to sing and dance, they had comic chemistry in the one episode of Glee they did together, and their stars are both on the rise without any sign of stopping.

I want to see this pair in action. Harris is halfway to a hosting EGOT already (if there were such a thing), and I still laugh when I remember this joke from Lynch at the Emmys: “People have often asked me why I’m a lesbian. Ladies and gentlemen, the cast of Entourage!”

4. Samuel L. Jackson

Everyone likes Samuel L. Jackson. If I meet a person who dislikes Samuel L. Jackson, I automatically find that person untrustworthy. I haven’t seen him in any kind of hosting capacity, but he’s got a great sense of humor and natural charm, and he’s one of the few potential Oscar hosts that could appeal to the stuffy Academy snobs and the populist youth demographic the Academy desperately courts every year.

Also, consider this: if Samuel L. Jackson hosts the Oscars, we can have a montage of Samuel L. Jackson movies at some point, because why not? (Side note: he totally should’ve been nominated for Django Unchained, by the way.)

5. The Muppets

You think I am kidding. I am not. I don’t care if the pupeteering logistics would make this difficult. Kermit would be the best host ever, Miss Piggy could try to steal attention from the other actresses, Fozzie could write all of the awards patter, and Gonzo can choreograph stunts and chicken dance numbers set to the Best Original Score nominees while Statler & Waldorf heckle them. We can even have the Sesame Street Muppets make an appearance so there can be an actual Oscar at the Oscars.

This needs to happen.

Lady T is an aspiring writer and comedian with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at The Funny Feminist, where she picks apart entertainment and reviews movies she hasn’t seen.

5 People Who Should Host the Oscars At Some Point

A rare inspired bit of MacFarlane comedy

1. Tom HanksI would love for the Academy to break its pattern of picking straight white guys, believe me, but I’ll make an exception for Tom Hanks, because Tom Hanks needs to host the Oscars.Tom Hanks is a national treasure. He’s a very good actor, personable, hilarious, and willing to take the piss out of everyone and everything, especially himself. I still remember Steve Martin’s joke from his first hosting gig: “There’s been an update in the plot to kidnap Russell Crowe, and all I have to say is – Tom Hanks, I’m very ashamed of you.” Martin’s joke was funny enough on its own, but then the camera cut to Hanks in the audience looking shame-faced and mouthing, “I’m sorry,” which made it hilarious and memorable.

Also, he did slam poetry about Full House on Jimmy Fallon’s show.

3. Neil Patrick Harris and Jane Lynch

5. The Muppets

This needs to happen.

Lady T is a writer with two novels, a play, and a collection of comedy sketches in progress. She hopes to one day be published and finish one of her projects (not in that order). You can find more of her writing at www.theresabasile.com.

Oscar Best Picture Nominee: An Oscar for Oskar? ‘Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close,’ the Surprise Nominee

Thomas (Tom Hanks) and Oskar (Thomas Horn)

This is a guest post from Jennifer Kiefer.

Potential viewer beware: the trailer for this film is awful. Terrible. Even worse than Alexander’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. But that’s because this film deals with, as young Oskar dubs it, “the worst day.” When I first saw the trailer, I hated it. I thought it would be an overblown, sentimentalization of 9/11. But it was way above that. (For the record, I hated the trailer, loved the book and film.) Even so, it would be immensely difficult for anyone to make a two-minute-or-less trailer of any film including the events of 9/11, because to not disclose that the event is involved would be to hoodwink and outrage viewers when they discovered this upon viewing the film, but to include it in such a short duration automatically leaves the impression of emotional warfare. Even the tagline is horrible, perhaps a desperate attempt to grab the potential viewer by the collar and shout, “Don’t you see! This film is not about September 11! It’s about every day after!”

A better tagline: “A boy’s search for his father.” Even: “Based on the novel by Jonathan Safran Foer.”

Of course, any piece of art (perhaps excluding documentaries) more than mentioning 9/11 will endure endless criticism, regardless of the usage or the piece’s merit, and this film is no exception. As opposed to a film like Remember Me, which uses the event really as a surprise ending—sorry if I spoiled that incredible film for you—Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is, as the tagline pleads with you to believe, not necessarily a story about the events of the worst day. Yes, Oskar’s dad dies in the World Trade Centers. Yes, they show the buildings, but ninety percent of that is actual footage shown on television screens, and never once do they show a plane tearing into the building. In fact, the most exploitative thing about the movie’s portrayal is hazy shots of a man falling from the building, and only then because Oskar wonders whether that could have been his own father. “The other kids probably see their dads, too,” he says.

Thomas Horn as Oskar

EL&IC is about Oskar’s journey to deal with his father’s death, to analyze the artifacts, to constantly question why or how someone could or would kill thousands of people he did not even know, but also about Oskar’s connection to the people of New York City as he searches for the missing lock which fits the key Oskar found in his father’s closet a year later. For a young boy who possibly has Asberger’s (“The tests were undetermined,” Oskar says), his father was his best friend. They look in the New York Times for mistakes together, they practice karate techniques and have oxymoron wars in the living room. His father created “Reconnaissance Missions,” which forced Oskar to talk to other people, which he says is hard for him to do. In the tragedy of his father’s death, he creates his own reconnaissance mission, even larger than anything his father could have imagined, proving that even in tragedy there is community.

Perhaps Oskar’s precociousness (some argue over-precociousness) and grieving sentimentalized his father’s death—the film can be very emotional in this young man’s personal tragedy (played beautifully by Thomas Horn, but more on that later), but it is also humorous and honest. But why shouldn’t a smart, questioning nine-year-old boy be sentimental, even overly so, about his father’s premature, sudden death? Any death of a parent at that age would be devastating, even a year or two afterwards. The film is most moving and honest in the scenes where Oskar remembers or simply misses his father, resulting in fear, explosive anger, and solitude.

But still, some people have called this the “worst movie ever.” First, that’s not possible because films like Absence of Malice and Open Water exist. Second, I would be surprised if these opinions were based on more evidence than “the film is about 9/11” (or “the kid’s demeanor annoyed me.”). It is such a recent wound for Americans that even a sensitive, well-made film such as EL&IC will invoke backlash and extreme criticism. It is surely a gutsy and risky topic.

Some have argued that the film would not be that changed had Oskar’s father died in another way, say an automobile accident. Sure, the story would still be honest and heart-wrenching and beautiful, but it wouldn’t be as meaningful. Here’s where I go English Major on you.

Oskar is constantly trying to make sense of this tragedy and his father’s death. One of the most moving and emotional scenes pits Oskar against his still-living mother, crashing the kitchen, yelling for her to make sense of it. But she cannot, and he tells her, “I wish it had been you.”

Oskar and his mother, Linda (Sandra Bullock)

The tragedy of 9/11 holds much more meaning and complexity than an accident. What would it have shown about the human condition if his father died in a crash? Shit happens? Humans are really bad drivers? Bad luck? Oskar is conflicted, because the events of the worst day seem to prove that people are horrifying and everything is an unsafe target, yet in his search for the lock, his only clue being an envelope labeled “Black,” he finds that people can also be generous and surprising. Even though a very, extremely tragic event, 9/11 did unite the residents of NYC. Oskar similarly connects with this city a year later in his search, emphasizing once again that tragedy breeds community. Everyone Oskar meets, as he says, “has all lost someone,” sometimes sharing Oskar’s tragedy and sometimes not.

Oskar’s father wasn’t a regular worker in the World Trade Center—he was a jeweler who had a meeting at a popular coffee shop there on a higher floor for the view. Rather than being “emotional warfare,” (a term I have tossed in before) this serves to prove how the worst day affected everyone and anyone.

Not as much discussed in the film, the Renter, an unspeaking man living with Oskar’s grandmother, is a survivor of the Dresden bombings. The juxtaposition of both atrocious events confirms the inevitability of war and the violence of human nature, both events being essentially “pointless” in that both incidents killed innocent civilians for political purposes. What was that about a car accident being the same?

And simply plot-wise, other types of death would have made the artifact of the answering machine, with messages from his father on the worst day trying to reach someone at home, which Oskar replaces and hides, “Just like nothing ever happened,” more difficult, if not impossible, for Oskar to have.

This film is so gorged with symbolism (the food of English majors) that even each of Oskar’s little facts serves a deeper meaning—a story of a researcher who played recordings of dead elephants’ calls to relative elephants who recognized the calls, the eight minutes of light that would remain on Earth even if the sun went out, ad nauseum. I didn’t even attempt to process the symbolism of the name Black in the midst of everything else.

The Renter (Max von Sydow) and Oskar

I promised you early on that this film incorporates humor. Jonathan Safran Foer is a pro at quirk, wherein some of the humor lies, though genuine. In his first novel, Everything is Illuminated, the main character is named Jonathan Safran Foer. The first and many chapters of the book are written in a broken translation of English by Alex, both funny and poignant. The driver believes he is blind. The novel EL&IC includes photographs, blank pages, pages with one sentence, pages blacked out from overwriting, and a flipbook in the back. The character of the Renter is typical of Foer’s signature quirk (can you have a signature on your second novel?)—he is a survivor of tragedy who has lost his words and cannot speak. He writes everything down in a daybook and even has “yes” and “no” tattooed on his palms.

Max von Sydow, as the Renter, has great comedic timing in his nonspeaking role. The people Oskar meets, his interactions with his father, the brief lies Oskar counts (“Why aren’t you in school?” “They said I know too much already.”) all produce genuine laughter, even after moments of potential, authentic tears. (Was it Vonnegut who said that laughter is a response to overwhelming tragedy in an essay about his own experiences in Dresden?)

Thomas Horn, in his first-ever role, carries the film with wonderful wit and beautiful pathos. Subtleties make his performance—his expressions during unspoken moments, his over-enunciation even when speed-talking (a quality of his possible Asberger’s?), the fear in his eyes as he rides the subway (an easy target in his eyes). The panic in his demeanor as he decides whether or not to cross a bridge. Sticking his key absently into stray locks at the locksmith shop. His performance is so good I was honestly surprised that this was his first role—Oskar is a complex, emotional, challenging character, and would be a difficult feat for any actor. Horn is honest and pretty amazing throughout, particularly convincing in the most affecting, most difficult scenes—pinching himself to cause bruises because he feels guilty, screaming because he has lost his father and cannot understand why, telling his mother that he wishes she had been the one to die. Though he was not nominated for Best Actor (why don’t they have a Breakthrough or Best Young Actor award?), his performance surely landed the film its nomination for Best Picture, which could not have been fueled solely by Max von Sydow.

Oskar and The Renter

So, will it win the Oscar? Probably not, though for my money it deserves it, and the Academy did previously award the also-controversial Crash. It would be a tremendously exciting surprise, but don’t bet your house on it. Max von Sydow has a chance, perhaps based on his age—Alan Arkin said after his win for Little Miss Sunshine that he thought it was because he was getting older (though both are great performances).

If none of this has convinced you, if for no other reason, you should rest assured that this is a beautiful, premium film because my father, who is notorious for falling asleep in the darkness of the theater, stayed awake for the entire film during at 9:55 PM showing.

Jennifer Kiefer holds a BA in Creative Writing from Western Kentucky University. She currently resides in Louisville, Kentucky where she is using her former movie theater employee discount and waiting to hear back from graduate programs.