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2013 Oscar Week: ‘Beasts of the Southern Wild’: Deluge Myths

Quvenzhane Wallis as Hushpuppy in Beasts of the Southern Wild

Guest post written by Laura A. Shamas, Ph.D.

Warning: spoilers ahead!

With the Oscar season in full swing, many of the nominated films released in 2012 are in the spotlight again. Beasts of the Southern Wild is nominated for four Academy Awards: Best Actress, Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director. Post-Sandy especially, the flood mythology motifs of Beasts of the Southern Wild deserve further examination, as they point to important symbols and mythic tropes active in the film. Water, personified as a character, reminds us of the potency of tales of the Deluge. Although floods are associated with destruction in mythology, they may also be seen as harbingers of renewal; Hushpuppy, the young female protagonist, leads with hope and wisdom at the film’s end.

Beasts of the Southern Wild, written by Lucy Alibar and Ben Zeitlin (based on Alibar’s play Juicy and Delicious), and directed by Zeitlin, is set in The Bathtub, a fictional delta region similar to parts of southern Louisiana. The story centers on Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis), a six year-old girl growing up in a ramshackle compound in a boggy bayou, raised solely by her ailing caring and erratic father, Wink (Dwight Henry). Hushpuppy’s mother left a long time ago, and in her own special house, the girl sometimes converses aloud with a symbol of her mother — an old sports jersey her mom left behind. In Act Two, Hushpuppy links a flashing white light over water in the distance to her mother’s identity.

WATER AS SYMBOL

We see that Hushpuppy and Wink’s lives are impacted by the presence of Water, as it incites much of the film’s plot. In Act One, a powerful storm of hurricane-force comes at night; their compound is flooded. In the downpour, the monsoon is personified when, with a rifle, Wink shoots up in the torrential rain and yells: “I’m comin’ to get you, Storm.” The next day, Hushpuppy and Wink navigate their rusty boat, crafted from an old truck, through swollen, overflowing waterways; a lone pet dog joins them. They look for survivors and take stock of the crippling destruction in their region. At first, it seems that no one else has survived, and Hushpuppy remarks, in voiceover narration: “They’re all down below trying to breathe through water.” Their square boat resonates as an ark-like image in this sequence. In Symbols of Transformation, C. G. Jung identifies Noah’s Ark as “an analogy of the womb, like the sea into which the sun sinks for rebirth.”[i]

In A Dictionary of Symbols by Jean Chevalier and Alain Gheerbrant, the meaning of water “may be reduced to three main areas. It is a source of life, a vehicle of cleansing and a centre of regeneration.” [ii]

All three of these aspects are depicted in Beasts of the Southern Wild. In Act Two, water is shown as a source of life in a teaching sequence: Wink shows Hushpuppy how to catch fish by hand (“You have to learn how to feed yourself. Now stick your hand in this water!”). Also in Act Two, the ocean feeds the community in the celebratory scene of The Bathtub’s storm survivors feasting on crawfish in their makeshift shelter in Lady Jo’s seafood shack. Wink tells Hushpuppy to “Beast it!” as she eats a crab. We gradually understand that Wink, as Mentor, is teaching his daughter bayou survival skills.

Later, the water serves as a source for spiritual cleansing; Hushpuppy embarks on a search for her mother, and finds maternal nurturing from women who work aboard a pleasure ship, the “Elysian Fields Floating Catfish Shack” featuring “Girls Girls Girls.” Wink’s passing, with final ship burial rites that are similar to those of the ancient Vikings, is connected to a spiritual return to the sea.

The theme of “regeneration” is clear in the ending of Beasts of the Southern Wild, and discussed in further detail below. Much more than a mere setting, water is part of every major plot turn, and somehow young Hushpuppy must learn to live with it, on it, and sail through it.

FLOODING: MEANING AND MYTHS

Key tropes from flood stories are featured in Beasts of the Southern Wild. In ancient flood mythology, deities send destructive waters to punish humanity; some flood myths are also categorized as part of creation myths because a new cycle may begin after the water recedes. A deluge brings fear, according to ARAS’ The Book of Symbols: “Floods are especially frightening because they intimate unpredictable forces of like nature within ourselves.” [iii] A deluge may herald a post-Apocalypse renewal — a spiritually cleansing effect, related to the purification function of baptism. From a myth perspective, it can be seen as a three-part process: ruination, revival, and purification. [iv] As Tamra Andrews writes in A Dictionary of Nature Myths: “Humanity returned to the water from whence it came, then began again.” [v]

Beasts of the Southern Wild

Classic tales from traditions worldwide feature flood motifs. The Sumerian Epic of Atrahasis predates Noah’s story; ARAS’ The Book of Symbols says the Atrahasis tale “describes casualties of flood strewn about the river like dragonflies.” [vi]

The familiar story of Noah’s Ark is one of many legends in which the deluge brings a renewal, the start of a new cycle, even a rainbow. In the Gilgamesh Flood Myth (which some scholars trace to The Epic of Atrahasis), Upnatishtim must build a boat to weather a storm so foul its verocity frightens the very gods who created it. Like Noah, Upnatishtim’s boat eventually lands atop a mountain.

In the Irish legend of Fintan mac Bóchra, Fintan escorted one of Noah’s granddaughters to Ireland. As one of three who lived through the deluge, Fintan “the Wise” survived the deluge by shape-shifting into a salmon and two birds; eventually he became a human again and advised the ancient Kings of Ireland. A Kikuyu story (Kenya) tells of spirits drowning a town with beer, as inhabitants find refuge in a tavern.

In China, the tales of “Yu The Great” center on flood fighting, with family sacrifices as part of the battles, and supernatural assistance in the form of a yellow dragon, or in some versions, Yu is the dragon. [vii] An ark features prominently in the Greek myth of Deucalion and Pyrrha, Prometheus’ son and Pandora’s daughter, who survive a flood unleashed by Zeus. Floods are also featured in numerous Native American tales, such as the Arapaho story of Creation, in which a man with a Flat Pipe enlists Turtle to help save the land or the Chickasaw Nation’s Legend of the Flood in which a raven delivers part of an ear of corn to a lone remaining family on a raft, post-Deluge.

Hushpuppy faces an Auroch in Beasts of the Southern Wild

In Beasts of the Southern Wild, the melting ice cap imagery is linked to the global warming rise of coastal waters — perhaps Earth’s way of punishing humankind (which could be seen as divine chastisement related to myths above). The “watery end of the world” theme, the motorboat as ark, the tavern as place of refuge, the release of supernatural beings (such as Hushpuppy’s vision of the frozen Aurochs unleashed through global warming), the connection to animals and earth as agents of healing (Hushpuppy listens to them): all of these elements in the film may be seen as related to flood myth tropes. Although there is no rainbow at the end, there is definitely as sense of renewal as Hushpuppy becomes the new Bathtub leader. The imagery and mythic tropes in the film overall resonate with symbols of giving birth: from the womb-like ark, to overwhelming water which could be seen as related to amniotic fluid, through Hushpuppy’s search for her long-absent mother.

HUSHPUPPY AS HEROINE

By the end, Hushpuppy emerges as a culture heroine, leading the surviving people of The Bathtub forward as they walk on a road with water lapping at them from all sides — with Hushpuppy as a signifier of renewal, in keeping with traditional motifs of flood mythology. This conclusion gives us a female-lead vision of hope for the future; Hushpuppy’s voiceover narration tells us that one day scientists will find evidence of a girl named Hushpuppy who lived with her father in the Bathtub.

With our collective experience of Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and now Sandy in 2012, the poignant depiction of flood mythology tropes resonate strongly in this award-winning film. Watching Beasts of the Southern Wild allows us to consider the Deluge’s symbolic import to the human psyche not only as an image of destruction, but as an important signal of change, marking a time of transformation.

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Laura Shamas is a writer, film consultant, and mythologist. Her newest book is Pop Mythology: Collected Essays. Read more at her website: LauraShamas.com.

NOTES

[i] Jung,C.G. Symbols of Transformation. Collected Works, Volume V. Edited and Translated by Gerhard Adler and R.F.C. Hull. Princeton University Press, 1977. Page 211, Paragraph 311.
[ii] Chevalier, Jean, and Alain Gheerbrant. Trans. John. Buchanan-Brown. A Dictionary of Symbols. Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1994. Page 1081.
[iii] “Flood.” The Book of Symbols by The Archive For Research In Archetypal Symbolism (ARAS). Amy Ronnberg, Editor-In-Chief. Cologne: Tashen, 2010. Page 50
[iv] Andrews, Tamra. A Dictionary of Nature Myths: Legends of the Earth, Sea and Sky. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998. Page 72
[v] Andrews, Tamra. A Dictionary of Nature Myths: Legends of the Earth, Sea and Sky. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998. Page 72.
[vi] “Flood.” The Book of Symbols by The Archive For Research In Archetypal Symbolism (ARAS). Amy Ronnberg, Editor-In-Chief. Cologne: Tashen, 2010. Page 50.
[vii] Wilkinson, Phillip and Neil Phillip. “Yu Tames the Floods.” Eyewitness Mythology. London: Dorling Kindersley, 2007. Page 175.

2013 Oscar Week: Heroic Black Love and Male Privilege in ‘Django Unchained’

Guest post written by Joshunda Sanders.

Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained was a movie I never thought I’d see or write about. As much as I adore movies and popular culture, particularly when black characters are front and center, well, the Crunk Feminist Collective put it best:

“… I am not a fan of Tarantino at all. At all. Generally, I find his work contrived, overly self-conscious, and, frankly, boring. Plus, to me he’s like the worst kind of hipster racist, a grown up version of Justin Timberlake desperately trying to affirm his black card at all times, while thoroughly proving himself to be white as hell…”

I’ll add the caveat that I like Tarantino’s gumption, but that’s where the warm feelings end. Tarantino is the Kanye West of moviemakers: obnoxious as he is talented, arrogant and flippant as he is hard to ignore. America loves men like him. For that reason, he brings up all my contrarian cockles. Between the grotesque violence and excessive use of the N-word in his movies, combined with the fact that I did not appreciate Pulp Fiction or From Dusk ‘Til Dawn, (the only movie I stomped out of mid-way) I saw no reason to spend money to see another Tarantino production.

What led me to the theater, finally, was what always leads me there: deep curiosity and a good friend.

Salamishah Tillet, writing for CNN’s In America blog, wrote: “There is much to criticize in this film: the excessive use of the N-word, gratuitous gun violence and its male dominance. Women are objects of apathy or sympathy and are not as nearly as complex or charismatic as any of the male characters. This is very much a movie about how men, white and black, navigate America’s racial maze.”

Dr. King Shultz (Christoph Waltz) and Django (Jamie Foxx) in Django Unchained

I enjoyed Jamie Foxx at the center of this inverted spaghetti Western. German King Shultz, a hilarious German bounty hunter riding in a carriage with a giant bouncy tooth swaying from its roof, plucks Django from a group of weary slaves and transforms him into a superhero. Viewers are shown flashbacks of Django with Broomhilda, (Kerry Washington) his slave wife who was taken from him. So we get the moments of tenderness without oversexed images. But as Tillet mentions, Washington, like other women, are one-dimensional with no agency.

I feel that I should make the case for a better use of Washington in Django, but it makes sense to me that Tarantino wouldn’t provide any context for black women with agency — he did it with limited success in Jackie Brown as homage to Blaxploitation because the agency of Pam Grier was a seductive plot point. I also would have had to support Tarantino movies for the rest of my life if he had gotten it right. Instead, I felt a sense of relief that a black woman was depicted a damsel in distress, exoticized (she speaks German) but not hypersexualized.

Hildi is worth fighting for and she maintains her dignity. It’s a story I’ve not witnessed before in a Western on the big screen, and rarely anywhere else.

Obstensibly, Django is allowed to exact his revenge on white slave-owners and black men who would keep him from being great. Foxx is the best at this kind of cool glee. He has come a long way from playing the buffoonish Wanda on In Living Color. That his bloodlust is inspired by love and winning back a black woman as a prize allowed this black woman viewer to construct an alternative narrative for his motivations and for the justification of mass murder.

I have also never had the privilege or pleasure of laughing deeply or sincerely during any film set against the backdrop of slavery in the antebellum South. It is humor and wit that carries Tarantino in Django, the unexpected surprise.

In a scene that evokes the KKK with white racist men wearing bags over their heads, there’s a bit where they start arguing about the fact that they can’t see, that one of their wives put a lot of time and effort into the thing and can’t y’all just get over this whole can’t seeing thing? I’ve got a goofy, dark sense of humor, so maybe it was just me, but I could not stop laughing loudly during that scene, in part because it humanizes virulent racists while also mocking their stupidity and vanity in a surprising way.

It also makes you forget what they are, though his accurate portrayal of the harrowing, sickening depth of racist terror reminds the viewer. That felt dangerous and provocative to me. The type of emotions we go to the movies for. Ditto for the score, which blends Blaxploitation with hip hop fantastically, updating the Western with a big of swag.

Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson) and Broomhilda von Schaft (Kerry Washington) in Django Unchained

Because slavery and violence are rarely spoken about as a kind of spiritual terrorism to say nothing of emotional and psychological antagonism against blacks, I was pleasantly surprised by that accuracy here, explained by Jelani Cobb as violence “deployed as a kind of spiritual redemption” at The New Yorker:

“And if this dynamic is applicable anywhere in American history, it’s on a slave plantation. Frederick Douglass, in his slave narrative, traced his freedom not to the moment when he escaped to the north but the moment in which he first struck an overseer who attempted to whip him. Quentin Tarantino is the only filmmaker who could pack theatres with multiracial audiences eager to see a black hero murder a dizzying array of white slaveholders and overseers. (And, in all fairness, it’s not likely that a black director would’ve gotten a budget to even attempt such a thing.)”

Like Cobb, and, more famously, Spike Lee, some of my hesitance to support Django had to do with the unfair privilege afforded Tarantino to take creative liberties with not just using racist language with such entitlement (which is how it comes across even if it’s not his intention) but also with the power and assumption of greatness that would never happen for a black director. I find the idea that Tarantino should not be allowed to be great because he calls black folks out of our names to be a symptom of our greater anxieties. The issue to me is not whether or not Tarantino is racist, but that he benefits from the privileges afforded him as a white male to pick and choose his racist tendencies.

There are tons of creative men — white, black, brown — who have this privilege. If they make mediocre films or books, do we stop to analyze why? Well, sometimes. With Tarantino, all the time. In the case of this film, that criticism was a relentless din. I don’t have an answer for why I find that odd and complicated, except that creativity, racism and privilege are embedded in American culture. All creative products are considered superior if they are made by white people. That Tarantino benefits from this is neither his fault, nor is it new. I’m not apologizing for him, I’m simply pointing out why I think the discussion of the flaws in his movie as historical sticking points and the use of the word Nigger miss the point.

Django (Jamie Foxx) and Broomhilda von Schaft (Kerry Washington) in Django Unchained

But I’m also a sucker for a love story, so because Django is about heroic love, about the kind of victory that necessitates revenge, it thrilled me unexpectedly.

Not just any heroic romantic love, which we never see, really, between black men and women anymore, but also about the love of freedom, the universal thirst for power. At the end of the day, I cared much more that Tarantino was true to that than I do about the Spaghetti Western genre or whether or not the details of slavery were historically accurate. I know enough about history that I would not ever expect Tarantino to offer me an accurate lesson on the institution of slavery.

So, the film is not perfect but as critics agree, it is clever. It is also as close to perfect as we can hope for until someone writes the perfect heroic black love story and revenge fantasy.

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Joshunda Sanders is a writer and journalist based in Austin. She blogs at jvictoriasanders.com.

2013 Oscar Week: Maya from ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ Is an Emotional Character

Guest post written by Alison Vingiano, originally published at AGV Notes. Cross-posted with permission.

The movie theater was already packed when I found my seat on Sunday afternoon. When the lights dimmed, the screen stayed dark. Phone calls from September 11, 2001 echoed throughout the room. I don’t think anybody breathed for the first three minutes of the film.

Zero Dark Thirty was one of the best movies I saw this year. The protagonist, Maya, captivated me with her focus and passion. She was a realistic, interesting character to watch, despite how little we learn about her life. At times she was overwhelmed, but she never collapsed with emotion or passion. Maya was no Carrie Mathison. On Monday, still thinking about the film, I read that day’s TIME Magazine piece. The author interviewed Kathryn Bigelow about the deeply perplexing final shot. She wrote:

“You may be wondering why Maya — so stoic and static throughout her years of hunting — breaks down into sobs when the mission is over… All this comes after a decade of ruthless pursuit, in a career to which she has sacrificed her entire life and, for the audience, more than two hours of watching a character display no hint of an emotion other than vengefulness, dedication, patriotism or anger.”

Okay there, TIME Magazine, check yo’self. No emotion other than anger? Stoic and static throughout her years of hunting? Yes, Maya does not cry until the final shot. Deeming her emotionless, however, narrows the complexity of her character. It assumes that a women who does not cry does not feel. It is important to recognize Maya as an emotional character because doing so illustrates the depth of her strength. It shows that emotional women are competent, focused and determined as well.

Maya displays a wide emotional range. In fact, had her character been a man, reviews would likely comment about his brave sentimentality. We would discuss he queazy response to torture, for example, or his frightened reaction to being attacked by gunfire. She is too emotive for a man, yet not emotive enough for a woman.

Jessica Chastain as Maya in Zero Dark Thirty

Let’s look at specific examples of Maya’s emotional reactions. When Maya’s colleague is killed, we see her curled up in her office, paralyzed by (what I interpreted as) sadness and shock. Many scenes later, we see that a picture of Maya with this friend is her computer background. When Maya first experiences the interrogation of detainees, she looks away. The sight upsets her. In fact, when she is left alone with a detainee and he asks for her help, the audience cannot predict if she will succumb to his request. Finally, she delivers a strong but difficult answer: “You can help yourself by telling the truth.” Later, when Maya is shot at by a group of young men, we see a panicked, unrestrained reaction. When Maya receives the call that US troops are raiding the mansion in Abbottabad, she hangs up the phone with such a fierce expression of fear and excitement that I wanted to hug her.

Maya is a stronger character because of these natural emotional responses; she lets herself feel and fully experience the trauma she endures. She responds like a human being and a CIA veteran, not as some stoic, cold-hearted robot. When Maya cried in the final shot, it was a logical progression of her character’s growth. She just achieved her greatest career goal, while also changing the course of the war on terror. How could she not be overwrought with emotional display? I was not at all shocked, as the TIME article suggests viewers must have been.

We should not assume all female characters will emote similarly. Real women display their feelings in various ways, some of which include “not crying.” It is wrong to see a woman thriving in a high-stress job – without tears – and think “wow, she is emotionless!” I doubt we would assume that about a powerful career oriented man. We would simply discuss how well he performed his job.

Strength largely derives from how one processes their feelings. Cinematic portraits of powerful women are not just the Catwoman or GI Jane. We also need to see and accept powerful, emotional women in film. Yes, Maya was angry, determined and combative for much of the movie. But she also showed fear, sadness and defeat. The beauty of Maya is that she was written with the same complexity as any male character. And you know why? Because she’s based on a real-life, three-dimensional woman. Calling her emotionless insults the depth of her intricately formed character.

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Alison Vingiano is a writer, comedian, filmmaker and feminist residing in New York City. Her work has been featured on many websites, including Thought Catalog, Feministing, After Ellen and The Jane Dough. Follow her at www.agvnotes.tumblr.com and on Twitter at @agvnotes.

2013 Academy Awards Diversity Checklist

Written by Lady T

I want to talk a little about the Oscar nominees this year. (“But, Lady T, you talk too much about the Oscars.” “Oh yeah? Your MOM talks too much about the Oscars!”)

Seriously, she can’t shut up about him.

Mostly, I want to talk about the Oscars in terms of diversity. We all know that the Academy Awards are usually all about white dudes recognizing other white dudes (and women, in the acting categories). How did the Academy fare this year in terms of recognizing women in non-acting roles, and people of color in general? Let’s take a look.

Number of Men Nominated for Best Director: 5/5

Commentary: Kathryn Bigelow was infamously snubbed for a directing nomination for her work on Zero Dark Thirty. Was this a deliberate act of sexism on the part of the Academy? I would say yes, except for the fact that Ben Affleck was also overlooked for his work on Argo, and they were both considered frontrunners in this category. (Bigelow won almost all the precursor awards prior to the announcement of the Oscar nominations, and Affleck has won all the precursor awards after the announcement.) I think Bigelow and Affleck were overlooked simply because everyone underestimated the appeal of Amour and Beasts of the Southern Wild, the two little movies that could. The backlash against Bigelow in the press, however, certainly reeks of sexism.

Whatevs, she already has two.

Number of People of Color Nominated for Best Director: 1/5

Commentary: Ang Lee is nominated for his work on Life of Pi. This is good news, because Ang Lee is an excellent director and deserves every nomination that comes his way.

The “A” in “Ang” stands for “Awesome.”

Number of Best Picture-Nominated Films With a Person of Color as a Protagonist: 4/9

Number of Best Picture-Nominated Films With a Person of Color as a Protagonist, Played by a POC Actor: 3/9

Commentary: Beasts of the Southern Wild, Django Unchained, and Life of Pi have all been nominated for Best Picture, and their films all have POC actors/protagonists (Quvenzhane Wallis, Jamie Foxx, and Suraj Sharma, respectively). Argo technically has a POC protagonist, but the role played by a white actor (Ben Affleck). I don’t know whether Affleck cast himself out of vanity, an understandable desire to perform and direct at the same time, fear that the racist film industry wouldn’t stand behind and promote a film without a famous white actor in the lead role, or all of the above.

Jamie Foxx as Django in my favorite movie of the year

Number of Best Picture Winners With a Person of Color as a Protagonist, Played By a POC Actor: 5.5/84

Commentary: In the history of the Academy Awards, 5.5 films with POC as protagonists have won the Best Picture award – In The Heat of the Night, Gandhi, Driving Miss Daisy, The Last Emperor, Slumdog Millionaire, and Crash. (I said 5.5 because Crash is an ensemble film without a clear protagonist, and also because it’s not well-written and barely counts a movie.) It’s also worth noting that two of those films – In the Heat of the Night and Driving Miss Daisy – have white co-protagonists who share an equal load with their POC co-leads.

So, this year’s crop of Best Picture nominees have almost as many POC leads as all Best Picture WINNERS in history. Does that make this year awesome or previous years really, really white? Make of that what you will.

The unbelievably cute kids in Slumdog Millionaire

Number of Best Actor Nominees From Best Picture Nominees: 3/5

Number of Best Actress Nominees From Best Picture Nominees: 4/5

Commentary: Last year, exactly one Best Picture nominee out of nine (The Help) had a female protagonist, and only one Best Actress nominee was from a Best Picture nominee. (Three of the Best Actor nominees were from Best Picture nominees.) This year, the number of Best Actress nominees from Best Picture nominees actually outnumber the number of Best Actor nominees from Best Picture nominees.

Now, it’s worth mentioning that two of these Best Actress nominees – Jennifer Lawrence in Silver Linings Playbook and Emmanuelle Riva in Amour – are co-protagonists to their male leads, played by Bradley Cooper and Jean-Louis Trintignant. But Quvenzhane Wallis in Beasts of the Southern Wild and Jessica Chastain in Zero Dark Thirty are unquestionably the leads in their films.

Quvenzhane Wallis in my other favorite movie of the year

Is the Academy finally starting to recognize that movies starring women, about women, are worthwhile films, films that tell universal stories about the human condition, films that are not just “women’s films?” Let’s hope so.

Did you notice anything about the diversity, and lack thereof, in the Academy Award nominations? Have at it at the comments!

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.

Sexual Assault Subtext in Sailor Moon

By Myrna Waldron

I know I tend to gush about this series a lot, but today I’m going to talk about its dark side. I rewatch the episodes on a regular basis, but now approach them from an entirely new viewpoint. When I was a teen, I didn’t really understand feminism that much (beyond disliking Barbies and feeling uncomfortable about sexualisation) so a lot of the stuff I notice now went over my head. In particular, there are four Sailor Moon villains whose behaviour, well…creeps me the hell out. Prince Demando in Sailor Moon R and the Amazon Trio (Hawk’s Eye, Tiger’s Eye, Fisheye) in Sailor Moon SuperS have one thing in common besides being the bad guys – their modus operandi seems to have a distinct tendency towards subtextual sexual assault and attempting physical control of their targets. It’s never overt, and the victims never have any lasting physical damage (emotional/mental damage is never touched upon) but Oh my GOD is it hard to watch. General trigger warning in effect. You can figure out the subject matter from the title, and I’m not going to hold back.

Demando trying to kiss Usagi

In Sailor Moon R, Prince Demando’s story is largely centred around his leadership of the Black Moon Clan, and his obsession with Neo-Queen Serenity. In both the anime and manga, he becomes fascinated with her eyes after she glares at him in defiance. In the manga, he retaliates against her rejection by encasing her in a crystal coffin where she now lies in a coma. In the anime, the coffin is instead created by the four Guardian/Inner Soldiers to protect Neo-Queen Serenity from an attack – but she also falls into a coma. As the second season’s plot is themed around time travel, he instead directs his attention to Neo-Queen Serenity’s younger self – Usagi/Sailor Moon.

Now, first off, Usagi is still 14 years old. Prince Demando is clearly an adult. This is an issue that the anime dances around (seeing as Mamoru was aged up to college aged instead of starting the story at 17) but there’s already some consent problems going on right there. Demando takes it one step further. In both the anime and manga, Demando kidnaps Sailor Moon and then overwhelms her with the power of the Black Crystal, which makes her fall unconscious and undoes her transformation. Usagi wakes up later, on a bed, in an elaborate dress she does not recognize. We do not know how long she was unconscious, and disturbingly, we do not know how Demando changed her clothes. The anime shows that the Black Moon Clan has the ability to magically change their attire, so that is a possible “solution,” but as far as I can remember, this isn’t something that is a demonstrated power in the manga. Regardless, Usagi is temporarily nude when she loses her transformation powers, and the ambiguity of her waking up in unfamiliar clothing has some disturbing implications.

Usagi crying from fright

In both the anime and manga, Demando possesses a magic third eye that can hypnotize its target. He uses this ability to try to force Usagi to declare “love” and “allegiance” to him, as well as to kiss him. In both versions, Usagi is more frightened than she has ever shown to be before, and is ashamed that someone besides Mamoru would be kissing her. In the manga, Demando does kiss her, and she is so upset by this she breaks the hypnosis and slaps him. In the anime, Demando is interrupted before he can kiss her, but his attempt to physically force affection out of her goes on for so much longer, and is somehow even more disturbing. In the manga, Demando temporarily releases Usagi from the hypnosis and allows her to wander around the Nemesis Castle, thinking that the Black Crystal’s influence would overwhelm her powers. He underestimates her resolve, however, and she manages to transform, rescuing herself and the kidnapped Inners. In the anime we instead get a Damsel in Distress situation. Tuxedo Mask is the one who interrupts Demando, and boy howdy do we get some Freudian symbolism going on in this scene. When the hypnosis breaks, Usagi falls backwards onto the bed. Tuxedo Mask extends his cane down to the bed, which she grabs onto. Phallic as hell. And don’t forget that Demando’s name is based on “Diamond”…which is a gem known for its *hardness.*

Demando takes a hit for Sailor Moon

The anime fairly closely follows the manga for the first hypnosis attempt, but deviates once it gets closer to the climax of the story. The Sailor Soldiers enter into the Black Crystal to stop the enemy, and Demando exploits its powers to separate Sailor Moon from her friends once again. He arrogantly repeats the exact same hypnosis attacks. This time, he physically forces her down on her knees (unfortunately making me think of a certain sexual act) and tries to make her kiss his hand in allegiance. She repeatedly breaks out of his spells, and counters his demands for her to “love” him by saying he does not understand the concept. She also manages to convince him that Wiseman has been lying to and manipulating him the entire time. Aaaand then the anime deviates even further in a way that…doesn’t please me.

One of the major themes in the anime is Usagi’s forgiveness, and saintlike willingness to let any villain redeem themselves, no matter what they’ve done. This…is not really a thing in the manga. Sure, there are some villains who become good, but the majority of them get a quick and brutal execution. And they don’t just get a bullet wound or anything like that…they get disintegrated. And that’s what happens to Prince Demando in the manga – after he’s stopped from combining the two Silver Crystals to destroy the space-time continuum, Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask combine their powers to blow him the fuck up. Unfortunately, in the anime, he instead takes an attack from Wiseman that was meant for Sailor Moon, and he gets a long, drawn out death scene. Anime Usagi is apparently so goddamn forgiving that because he did this one act of kindness, she apparently forgets what he’s done, and cries for him. And his last words are “I love you, Sailor Moon.” Give me a BREAK. Yeah, I know he was evil and probably didn’t understand the concept of love yaddayaddayadda, but you know what? If you love someone you don’t try to physically force them to kiss you! His attraction to Usagi was an obsession at best. Not love. I think the worst part about this scene is that it’s encouraged shippers to get off on the idea of Usagi and Demando being together. I’ve already had Tumblr arguments about that (I even got called a feminazi!) but I’m still standing by my opinion of that ship: EUGH.

The Amazon Trio perusing photos of their targets

Moving on to the fourth season, the anime SuperS doesn’t really have much in common with the Dream Arc of the manga. As the anime series went on, it deviated so much from the manga that in the end they told an almost completely different story with the same characters. The villains in the first half of the series are the Amazon Trio; Hawk’s Eye likes older women, Tiger’s Eye likes young women, and Fisheye likes men. Their task is to look in the Dream Mirrors of the people of Tokyo to find where a magical being called Pegasus is hiding. And their methods are even closer to full-on sexual assault than even Prince Demando’s shenanigans.

First, they seem to take pride in trying to seduce their intended victims. All three disguise themselves (Fisheye, who is feminine, crossdresses as a woman) and try to strike up relationships with their targets. Hawk’s Eye tries to appeal to the older women’s kindness, Tiger’s Eye is basically a Pick Up Artist, and Fisheye tends to pick men who are artists or romantics. Yup, the “sexual assault” targets are occasionally men. Tiger’s Eye appears the most often, as most of the cast is comprised of young women. He’s tremendously egotistical, and flies into a rage if his target doesn’t immediately fall head over heels with him. In the episode where he targets Ami, he even calls her a bitch for politely refusing his offer to take her to a private beach. He reminds me a lot of a Nice Guy – it’s always the woman’s fault if she doesn’t love him/want to screw him, and they turn on their romantic targets pretty quickly.

Hawk’s Eye and a restrained Ikuko (Usagi’s mother)

The Amazon Trio’s attempts to gain their victims’ trust before attacking them is bad enough. But the attacks themselves are so goddamn hard to watch. First, the victim is propped against a coffin-shaped board. Then they are physically restrained by their wrists and ankles. And then the Dream Mirrors are magically forced out of the victim’s chest, with them screaming in pain. The Trio then bend over and stick themselves RIGHT IN THE MIRROR, laughing in excitement and enjoying their view of the victims’ privacy while the victim screams in horror and pain. Inevitably Pegasus is not in the Dreams, and the Trio is instructed to kill their victims to prevent Pegasus from hiding in those Mirrors later. Yup, once they’re done assaulting them, it’s time to kill their victims! Such nice guys. It’s usually at this point that the Sailor Soldiers interrupt and go through their stock footage to defeat the monster of the day. Rinse and repeat for about 20 episodes.

In the manga, none of the “looking into Dream Mirror” stuff happens. The Amazon Trio appear once in each act, and are obliterated pretty quickly. They are basically the pawns of the Amazones Quartet, who try to manipulate the Guardian Soldiers into giving up their dreams. Ami and Rei are forced to see nightmarish hallucinations in mirrors, and both Fisheye and Tiger’s Eye try to seduce the girls to make them give up being Sailor Soldiers (This suggests that Fisheye is not gay in this version). Makoto is given an Amazon Ring by Hawk’s Eye (who is the crossdresser this time rather than Fisheye) which makes her blurt out all of her insecurities and ambivalence over her dreams and responsibilities. In each case, the three girls overcome the hallucinations/manipulations, and each Amazon Trio member is killed off quickly. In the anime, the redemption stuff is instead used once again. It’s arguably a little more understandable since it is revealed that the Trio are not humanoid but magically transformed animals, so their understanding of human kindness and, uh, not stalking and assaulting people you’re attracted to, would not have developed.

The Trio get Dream Mirrors

Fisheye’s final target is Mamoru, and he goes out of his way to try to entice Mamoru away from Usagi. He has a bit of an identity crisis after finding out the truth about himself and that he lacks a Dream Mirror, and sadly sits on a bench in the rain. Usagi comes across him and recognizes him as the “girl” who tried to hit on Mamoru. Normally she’s a tremendously jealous girl, but for whatever reason, Usagi the Saint offers kindness to Fisheye and invites him home to warm up. Thus Fisheye naturally learns about the kindness of humans. He even discovers that Chibi-Usa is the true harborer of Pegasus, but decides not to tell Zirconia about this. When Hawk’s Eye attacks Usagi, Fisheye defends her, and convinces his “brothers” to defect. They are then assassinated by the Amazones Quartet, but are given Dream Mirrors by Pegasus, and he brings their spirits to Elysion to rest.

So…once again Usagi has saintlike forgiveness and borderline sexual assaulters get redemption. Maybe I’m too hard, but I think there’s a limit to how much someone should get away with if they do the “Oh, I see the error of my ways now” bit. I should be a good progressive and always support rehabilitation rather than eternal incarceration, but I’m dubious about how effective therapy and education actually is for abusers and rapists. This is a major issue that psychologists and feminists need to work on. Regardless, I think I prefer how the manga handles this situation. For whatever reason, and it might be because the manga is written by a woman and the anime is usually written/directed by men, the sexual assault subtext is far less disturbing and drawn out than it is in the manga. And for me, it’s far more satisfying to see a villain that manipulative and creepy to get blown away than to see them become good guys. But that’s a matter of preference.

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 tweets with reckless pottymouthed abandon at @SoapboxingGeek.

The Complex, Unlikable Women of ‘House of Cards’

Daddy Issues, Menopause and Female Power

Written by Leigh Kolb

Spoilers ahead

Netflix’s original production House of Cards premiered–all at once, for those of us who love binge-watching–on February 1. Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) is the vengeful House Majority Whip who lusts after power and is ambitious and unscrupulous in his attempts to get what he wants.

In fact, most of the characters fit that description.

We know that the anti-hero is in. Many of the protagonists in critically acclaimed dramas (Walter White, Nucky Thompson, Jax Teller, Dexter Morgan, Don Draper, the list goes on…) are not traditionally heroic and make decisions that are illegal and “immoral.”

Frank Underwood is a twenty-first century Iago, building his empire on a tenuous pile of cards. He looks at the camera and includes the audience in his thought process (much like Kenneth Branagh’s Iago in Othello). The Macbeth references also are clear, as Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara) scrubs a stain out of her carpet or as Claire Underwood (Robin Wright) is consistently associated with water.

Just as Frank conjures a centuries-old tradition of villainous pseudo-heroism, the women of House of Cards also represent the kind of ruthless ambition that we find so compelling in characters.

And as “The Women on House of Cards Are Just as Evil as the Men” points out:

“The show would be way less interesting if only the male characters were running around town sleeping with people they shouldn’t be sleeping with and bribing people they shouldn’t be bribing while their female partners and peers waited patiently at home.”

Zoe is a scrappy reporter when we first meet her, and she quickly transforms herself into a front-page journalist because she gets the right source.

In bed.

She draws him in with a photo, goes to his house in a push-up bra and a low-cut shirt, and gets tips of all kinds. In the first episode, the most powerful women have broken into power via cleavage, marriage and tokenism (the new White House Chief of Staff Linda Vasquez, who Frank helped promote because of her ethnicity and gender). It didn’t look so good at first, but like any good story, the characters unfold as the series goes on, revealing that Claire is ambitious at all costs, Zoe holds the cards in her relationship with Frank and the women, at the end, are instrumental in upending and beginning to unravel Frank’s plans.

Zoe Barnes

For Zoe, she is both empowered and disempowered by men who treat her like she is their child. When she shoots to stardom (via Frank) at The Washington Herald, Tom, her editor, is dismissive of her work and yet knows he needs to promote her and reward her because Margaret (his boss) wants her star-power, since Tom’s beloved hard-news print outlet is barely staying in business.

When Zoe and Tom get into a fight after she turns down the White House Correspondent gig, he accuses her of being arrogant.

Zoe: “You think when a woman asks to be respected she’s being arrogant?”
Tom: “Are you accusing me of sexism? No TV for a month.”

He’s limiting her TV appearances as punishment, but of course it sounds like he’s talking to a child and taking television away as a punishment. The line between father and boss is blurred.

Zoe’s understanding of respect is obviously convoluted as Frank constantly asks her about her parents, and her father, and if they know she lives like she does (in a shabby, dirty apartment). “Are you cared for,” he asks. “Do you have a man, who cares for you? An older man?”

When Frank visits Zoe on Father’s Day, he encourages her to call her father. While she’s still on the phone, she starts undressing him, he undresses her and goes down on her in the most graphic sex scene in the season. She’s breathless while she’s on the phone, and hangs up only after promising her father “I’m going to try and come, OK?” The line between father and lover is blurred.

Later in the season, Zoe establishes herself in a new lucrative job at Slugline, a woman-owned new media company where the reporters have free reign to post what and when they want and are not “tied to a desk.” Janine joins her after leaving The Washington Herald. Janine was her enemy at the Herald, and represents a somewhat older, jaded version of Zoe. When the two begin to work together, they make great strides. Zoe finishes her relationship with Frank and works with Janine to do real, legitimate reporting (which is quickly unraveling Frank’s web of lies). Zoe is poised to be the most successful and have the most journalistic integrity by letting go of the older men in her life (who represent a patriarchal power structure) and working with women and peer collaborators.

Meanwhile, Claire, who matches her husband in power and ambition, changes her company and re-evaluates her own life as the season progresses. She lays off half of the staff and her clean water nonprofit, including Evelyn, her office manager (after having her fire everyone). Evelyn desperately points out to Claire that she is in her late 50s, and she would have no job prospects. Claire doesn’t bend.

Claire Underwood

Shortly after, Claire goes to a coffee shop where an older woman is working the register, and can’t figure out how to ring her up. A young woman comes and shows her, as Claire looks at them, certainly thinking of Evelyn and her own possibilities.

She courts Gillian, a young, beautiful woman who has had individual success in clean water initiatives. Gillian resists the corporate atmosphere, and Claire says,

“I know what it is to be capable, beautiful and ambitious… I want to enable you, to clear the way for you.”

Gillian accepts.

And Claire starts getting hot flashes. “This is new to me,” she tells a female dinner party guest who sees her standing in front of the open refrigerator. Her coming menopause serves as a reminder that she is getting ready to enter a new phase of womanhood, which she doesn’t seem ready for.

Gillian, meanwhile, announces her pregnancy and Claire seems uncomfortable. Even though she tells Adam (her once and sometimes lover) when he asks why she and Frank didn’t have kids, “We just didn’t–it wasn’t some big conversation. I thought about it once or twice, but I don’t feel like there’s some void. We’re perfectly happy without.”

But by the end of the season, she’s visiting a doctor and having a consultation about her fertility. She doesn’t tell Frank, but the window of opportunity for her to have a baby isn’t closed yet.

Gillian goes against Claire’s orders, and Claire suggests she take some time off after Gillian snaps, “I threaten you, don’t I?” Gillian hires a lawyer and claims Claire fired her for being pregnant, trapping Claire in a potential legal battle that she cannot win. The youthful ambition she wanted to guide and empower didn’t want either.

No one is good (nor should they be, or the show wouldn’t work so well). Janine tells Zoe she “used to suck, screw and jerk anything that moved just to get a story.” And while she’s a working journalist, she obviously didn’t fuck her way to the top (nor did Zoe). They are on their way to the top, but it’s only because they’re working together.

Claire and Frank are in a surprisingly power-balanced relationship, and it only truly suffers when he puts his goals over hers. Claire elicits sympathy, disgust, anger and fear from the audience (sometimes all in one episode).

These women are complex, if not likable, and that’s a good thing. Season 2 is already in development, and the women’s stories are poised to be central to what comes next. Zoe and Janine are close to the truth about Frank, Claire’s career and fertility hang in the balance and at any moment, the house of cards they’ve all helped build may come tumbling down.

—–

Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

Happy Galentine’s Day! Why It’s So Important to See Ladies Celebrating Ladies

Written by Megan Kearns.

Hey, ladies! It’s that time of year…Happy Galentine’s Day!!

If you’re a fan of Parks and Rec (and if you’re not watching, you should really ask yourself why — I mean it’s only the best, most feminist show on TV), then you know all about the holiday commemorating female camaraderie…and waffles!

Here’s how Leslie Knope defines the holiday:

“What’s Galentines Day? It’s only the best day of the year! Every Feb 13th, my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home and we come and kick it breakfast-style. Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lilith Fair, minus the angst. Plus frittatas.”

A holiday just for ladies celebrating ladies?? Count me in.

Too few films and TV shows feature female leads. It’s even rarer to see a focus on female friendship, just one of the many reasons why Parks and Rec is such an important series. Creators Greg Daniels and Michael Schur conceived the show to revolve around Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins’ friendship, fitting since Amy Poehler and Rashida Jones are real-life friends.

Leslie is all about supporting other women. She started Camp Athena and the Pawnee Goddesses, programs for teen and tween girls. She idolizes strong women leaders like Hillary Rodham Clinton, Madeline Albright, Condoleezza Rice and Nancy Pelosi. She even made a Geraldine Ferraro action figure as a kid. Leslie has mentored Amber to help her find her career ambition. She compliments and uplifts Ann, gives her advice in her love life, and (after hilarious meddling) embraces her decision to have a baby even though it deviates from Leslie’s perceived path to happiness. So it should come as no surprise Leslie would create a holiday solely to honor and support her female friendships.

Too often we see media depict women as catty and backbiting towards one another or the Smurfette principle with only one woman in a film or TV cast. So it’s great to see the women on Parks and Rec all get along with the crux of the show residing in a female bond.

We need more media reflecting the fact that women’s lives don’t revolve around men. Women have got their own shit going on. Galentine’s Day reminds us to celebrate our lady friends. Because after all, they are pretty awesome.

Guest Writer Wednesday: "Girls Make Movies Too": Riding on Kim Swift’s Call to Arms

This is a guest post from the New York Film Academy Faculty.

A few weeks ago, the incredibly talented Kim Swift wrote an outspoken blog post which resonated with people who are keen to see a positive shift in the industry.

Now rightfully recognized as a creative powerhouse in the industry, Swift notes that it was only down to parental support and determination which got her so far in a male-dominated industry rather than any notable female role models. “I didn’t see a person with two X chromosomes that I could point and go ‘Yes, if she did it, so can I!’”

Swift went on to add: “So, I have a secret wish. Whenever I’m in the public eye, whether it’s doing PR or giving a talk – and this is going to sound amazingly corny — I hope that there’s a little girl out there that sees me and thinks to herself, “Oh look! Girls make games too.”

And save for the last two words of that quote, or any prior knowledge of Kim’s work, you’d think she was talking about the film industry.

Although the gaming and film industry has many parallels, none are more prevalent than the male-centricity which run deep in both. If anything, girls in gaming have had a rougher ride over the past few decades than chicks in flicks, especially since leading ladies in film are often treated in reverence whereas their virtual sisters are nearly always sexualized to the point of banality. Either way, we can still borrow a lot of Kim’s wisdom when it comes to women driving the engine behind the curtain.

Is it Getting Better Anyway?

Arguably, yes. There has been a big paradigm shift in the last five years in gaming and the same is true – of an arguably lesser scale – in Hollywood. Even if the possibility of direct intervention is slim, the more the community writes on feminist issues in film, the more we raise consciousness amongst the general moviegoer and studios gradually move to meet demand. Although they had a few minor issues, movies like last year’s Brave and Hunger Games were a step in the right direction and proved to the establishment that they won’t be punished in the box office for empowering female leads.

So that’s the front of the house seemingly in order, or at least on the up. But what about the back of the shop?

It’s not looking good.

Around a decade ago, the figures were extremely grim. The representation of women in the fields of writing, directing, production and cinematography have always been shocking – bouncing up and down by a couple of percent points every year for the last decade – but as of 2011 (the latest figures we have) show that things are about as worse as ever.

According to long-windedly named (but totally brilliant) Center for the Study of Women in Television & Film, only 5% of the top grossing films of 2011 were directed by women. That’s the lowest its been in… well, we can’t find statistics for any year in which we’ve had less female directors. Women wrote 14% of the top grossing films for 2011, a four-point improvement over 2010, but it still leaves a lot to be desired. A good overview of all the figures available was posted on Indiewire which, when collated like this, posts a pretty embarrassing picture.

And there’s no excuse for such shockingly low numbers. The Center itself published an illuminating study into box office returns back in 2008 (well worth reading in full), demonstrating that: when women and men filmmakers have similar budgets for their films, the resulting box office grosses are also similar. In other words, the sex of filmmakers does not determine box office grosses.

Blowing The Winds of Change

It would be very easy to look at such figures and become despondent. But this is where a touch of positivity – a la Kim Swift – rather than negativity comes into play.

As she rightly points out, in such competitive industries it can be career suicide to put your head above the parapet too much or too often. But we need female professionals to wax lyrical about their craft in a public forum now more than ever. We’re not talking about the film writers and reviewers – heck, we’ve always been out to make as much noise as possible, and always will. We’re also not talking so much about the actresses who are already doing fine PR work.

What we want to see is every ‘invisible’ female film professional being more vocal about what it means to be a female working in a male-dominated industry, even if it’s someone who considers themselves to be ‘just a sound editor’ starting up a blog to talk about how much she loves her job. Only with a focus on all- inclusive film making, be it on a college level or higher, can we expect a positive swing into the next generation of creatives over the next couple of decades.

And if you’re not in the industry but a film fanatic nonetheless, be sure to spread the above figures (or this blog post) anywhere you can.

Change comes from the bottom up.

———-

At New York Film Academy, all programs are based on the philosophy of “learning by doing.” NYFA offers an intensive, hands-on, total immersion approach to learning. The academy maintains an unparalleled faculty and one of the largest film and production equipment inventories in the world. Courses offered include Filmmaking, Acting for Film, Producing, Screenwriting, Documentary, Cinematography, Game Design, Animation and Photography.

The Women of The Walking Dead: A Comparative Analysis of the Comic vs. TV

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

*Spoiler Alert*

If you’re at all like me, you’re constantly frustrated by the characterizations of the women of The Walking Dead AMC series, their choices, and their actions. The show has received significant criticism for its paternalistic attitude, its throwback gender roles, and its lack of strong, capable female characters. Though the current season (Season 3) has made some positive changes with the greater development of Maggie, Andrea, and Carol as well as the addition of the samurai sword-wielding Michonne, a lot is left to be desired. As a huge fan of the sometimes flawed, but overall intelligent and compelling graphic novel series by Robert Kirkman, I feel it is my duty to show you what you’re missing. Through a comparison of the women of The Walking Dead comic and TV series, it’ll become clear that the negative and weak representations of women are conscious, deliberate choices that the writers of the show have made in a departure from the original source material of the comic series.

Let’s start with Lori Grimes, the pregnant wife of Rick and mother of Carl who dies in childbirth in Season 3 of the TV series.

Yes, TV Lori does a lot of laundry & traditional “woman’s work.”

Lori has an affair with Shane, Rick’s best friend, when she’s under the impression Rick died during the zombie outbreak. Interestingly enough, the TV Lori is given far more reason to believe Rick is dead because Shane lies to her, telling her he saw Rick die. In the comic, she, like most people, can’t realistically hope that loved ones survived the outbreak, especially because Rick was comatose in a hospital. Despite the fact that she is given ample validation for seeking comfort in the arms of a long loved and trusted friend, TV Lori is consistently villainized. Her character is unlikeable, weak-willed, flighty, and she refuses to take a stance on important issues for her group, then blames others when things don’t work out. In fact, she Lady Macbeths (that’s a verb now) Rick and Shane into fighting over her to the death. Shane dies very early on in the comic series, and his beef with Rick is only partially his rabid love of Lori (the rest being their fundamental disagreement concerning how best to protect the group as well as Shane’s growing mental unbalance).

Together, comic Lori & Rick look adoringly upon their new baby

Though Lori wasn’t my favorite character in the comics, we empathize with her affair, and her bond with Rick is cemented and deepened when they choose together to raise the baby she’s carrying as their own, regardless of its parentage. Her TV pregnancy and resulting death in childbirth are punishment for her affair and for the continued implication that she’s a bad mother to Carl. It seems the writers believed that the only way for Rick and the viewers to forgive Lori was to have her die in unspeakable pain; she is given a C-section with a dirty pocket knife and no anesthetic in a dingy basement. The only way for her to redeem herself, they seemed to think, was for her to selflessly sacrifice her life for that of her infant. In the comic, Lori lives through childbirth along with the infant, Judith, and they die together during an attack upon the prison that proves to be a bloodbath. Comic Lori’s death is shocking and tragic, revealing to the readers that no one is safe in the most visceral way imaginable. Her death in its chaotic meaninglessness becomes the most meaningful death in the entire series thus far.

Then there’s the badass Michonne who is deadly with a katana blade and makes her first appearance during the season finale of the TV show’s second season.

Both Michonnes are gallows serious & stone-cold warriors

Luckily, there’s not too terribly much different between the comic and TV Michonne characters…yet. TV’s Michonne is even more laconic and untrusting than her comic counterpart, though. Comic Michonne is obviously intelligent and admits to being a lawyer before the outbreak. She also suffers from some schizophrenic tendencies as a result of enduring the harsh road alone for so long (she hears the voice of and talks to her dead boyfriend). Unlike her TV version, comic Michonne knows she needs Rick’s group to keep her sane and to fight back those symptoms of mental instability she experiences early on. Her fierce independence is tempered then by a knowledge that working together with a group is the only way to survive and thrive. I’m seeing tendencies, however, in her TV version toward an almost debilitating anti-authoritarianism and a propensity to go rogue. This is evinced by her inability to “play nice” with the Governor even just to find out answers as well as her separating from the Rick group during their raid on Woodbury in order to exact her personal revenge. Her behavior makes Rick eager to send her packing, unlike in the comic where she is one of the most valued members of the group upon whom Rick relies always.

So, so much badassery

Her introduction to the Rick group on the TV show is problematic in the way that it diverges from her comic introduction. TV Michonne shows up at the prison badly injured, falling unconscious from her wounds after an impressive display of her skill at dispatching walkers. As the remaining walkers descend upon her inert form, the Rick group rushes to save her and treat her wounds. When she regains consciousness, she growls to Rick, “I didn’t ask for your help,” which is, of course, ridiculous because we all know she would have died without it; this is more of that display of self-destructive anti-authoritarianism. In the comic, she rescues Otis (yup, he’s still alive at the prison) from a zombie horde. Otis vouches for her, which gains her entry into the prison and the basic trust of the group. Instead of joining the group as a valued, proven member as she did in the comic, TV Michonne remains of questionable trustworthiness and is immediately indebted to Rick, his rescue of her a display of innate dominance. Even the fact that she rescued and cared for Andrea for months in the series becomes a strange downplay of her comic rescue of a male member of the group, as if the life of Andrea, a woman, isn’t as worthy as the life of Otis, a man.

Finally, we have Andrea. Tsk. Tsk. Andrea, Andrea, Andrea. Sigh.

I promise you’re missing so much Andrea awesome if you don’t read the comic

The paths of TV and comic Andrea are unrecognizably dissimilar, and her character, more than any other, proves that the TV writers cannot bring themselves to fully empower a female character. TV Andrea claims to be a good shot, but we have no evidence of it…other than her shooting Daryl instead of a walker. She is suicidal for quite some time, randomly sleeps with Shane, and ends up being sheltered and protected by Michonne for months as she recovers from sickness. Not only that, but she ends up ignoring Michonne’s warnings about Woodbury and having an affair with the psychotic Governor. In the most recent episode “The Suicide King,” the Governor’s unjustifiably erratic and cruel behavior becomes obvious even to Andrea (pitting brothers against each other in a fight to the death, admitting that he held Glen and Maggie without telling Andrea, and refusing to provide much needed leadership to the community he built). Andrea says to him, “Don’t push me away. Not now.” With my eyebrows climbing all the way to my occipital lobe, all I could think was, “Girl, why aren’t you running for the hills?!” TV Andrea lacks self-esteem and is consistently making bad choices with regards to men as well as her own safety. She takes orders from the Governor even though she knows better and can’t seem to realize, despite a plethora of evidence, that the Governor is simply bad news bears.

Now comic Andrea’s badassery rivals that of Michonne.

Blam, Blam, Blam is right

Between comic Glen and Andrea, I’m not sure which of them is the MVP of the group, both having a skillset that would be really difficult to train into a replacement. Glen’s ability to hide, scavenge, and stealth his way past walkers may actually be trumped by Andrea’s uncanny sharpshooting talents. She saves the group on countless occasions, and she’s the real reason why the body count after the prison raid wasn’t 100%, as she stood up in the guard tower picking off attackers like they were soda cans at a carnival. The scar across her freckled face is a manifestation of the toughness and survival instinct that defines her character. Not only that, but she does not have an affair with the repugnant Governor; her romantic relationship is with a much more likeable comic Dale. The two form a unique and lasting bond that brings them both solace amidst unspeakable loss and terror. They are together until Dale dies.

Comic Andrea is always an asset and never a liability to the group. Her stalwart character is too robust, too invaluable for the TV writers to translate to the screen, so they undercut her at every opportunity in a blatant attempt to make her weak, dense, and unlikeable to the audience. Both Michonne and Lori suffer similar fates in that many of their finer qualities of strength, perseverance, and cooperation are lost in translation. It’s hard to see these changes as anything less than the creators of AMC’s The Walking Dead being threatened by or at least incredulous at the prospect of powerful female characters. For any of you who think they make these changes for the sake of drama, I’ll tell you a little anecdote. I once had a friend who said, “I want to watch a horror movie where the characters do all the right things; they’re smart and skilled, and shit still goes sideways.” For the most part, that is the case with the graphic novel series. It’s a page-turner, a gut-wrencher, a heartbreaker, and without fail all the characters are more well-rounded, empathetic, and ass-kicking than their TV counterparts. The drama is in those pages, along with plenty of strong women. I hate to say this, but the writers need to STOP being “creative” and stick to the complex, morally fascinating dystopian story that inspired the series.

The Religious ‘Community’

Written by Max Thornton. Originally posted at Gay Christian Geek in March 2012; reposted here in honor of Community‘s return.

Anyone who is even casually acquainted with me in meat-life will be aware of two facts: (1) Community returned this week, and (2) I was very, very, very, very happy about this.

Community is straight-up my favorite show on TV. Its midseason disappearance from NBC’s schedule was devastating to me, and the announcement of its return had me capslock keymashing all over the internet. I celebrated Thursday’s episode with friends and champagne: it was glorious and beautiful, and it’s not really an exaggeration to say that this show is a religious experience for me. Here’s why.

I just love them all *so much*

1. The community of television

I tend to be fairly generous with my definition of “the religious”. Like Tillich, I think religion is an orientation toward ultimate concern; like Barthes, I believe we are surrounded by images that signify ideologies – and if popular culture reveals and reflects a society’s most deeply held values, then it’s not a huge leap to argue that pop culture can be a locus of religious experience. (Tom Beaudoin’s Virtual Faith makes this argument very nicely.)

Although TV ownership in the US is apparently declining, television is still the most ubiquitous form of mass media in this country (of that 3.3% of TV-less households, it’s a fairly solid bet that many of them still watch shows online). As such, it is the most unifying artifact of American popular culture, and thus television as a whole could be considered a site of religious meaning. Even for a small cult show like Community,several million viewers participate in the weekly ritual of watching it – a shared experience that nonetheless resonates on a personal level for each individual, much like a religious service.

2. The community of the individual

Some people have accused the Community ensemble of being uniformly terrible human beings who evince no character growth and are unlikeable and completely unrelatable. I will not link to the people saying these things, because they are erroneous, incorrect, inaccurate, misguided, mistaken wrong-mongers who are very very wrong.

I see myself in Jeff: his walls of sarcasm and cynicism that try but fail to hide the true depths of his emotional responses.

I see myself in Britta: her enthusiasm for political causes and her morality that stems from a heart in the right place but is often ill-thought-out or hypocritical in practice.

I see myself in Abed: his profound love of pop culture, his social discomfort, his use of pop culture to understand those around him.

I see myself in Shirley: her deep Christian faith and her struggle to overcome her personal failings to live a really loving Christian life.

I see myself in Annie: her neurotic perfectionism and intense fear of failure.

I see myself in Troy: his goofy sense of humor, his deep bromance with his BFF, his quest for a place and purpose in the world.

I see myself in Pierce: his desperate desire for acceptance and inclusion, insecurities often masked by acting like an almighty asshole.

I really, really love these characters. Each one of them speaks to a different part of my own personality, often in ways that illuminate my flaws and weaknesses. They are complicated, imperfect human beings, but they love each other and I love them. They embody the complex, messy reality of being human – of being simultaneously wonderful and terrible, capable of beautiful things and horrific things, worthy of love and of hate.

Remember this?

3. The community of friends

It’s called Community because that’s what it’s ultimately about. This is a show about a group of people who are thrown together in a situation that’s for none of them ideal, and who learn to make the best of it. The interpersonal dynamics at play in this show are special because they are bold and because they speak a truth that is rarely spoken in television.

Compare the show Friends. That was also a show about a group of friends, and it was often a sweet show with a good heart, but all the friends came from the same social location: straight, white, young, of a certain socioeconomic bracket. Community dares to portray a very diverse group of people who find common ground without erasing their differences. The relationship between the Self and the Other must involve both the unity of commonality and the space of respecting difference. Friendship is the experience of navigating this Scylla-and-Charybdis – learning to find common ground in your shared humanity while celebrating and benefiting from each other’s difference – and Community portrays this wonderful, difficult process better than any other show I’ve ever seen.

Remember this??

4. The heart of Community

Community is a dizzyingly inventive show, playing with pop-culture history in endlessly fun and creative ways, but it is still a television show, and as such it follows a certain formula. The characters love each other; they learn lessons about the value of friendship; they make missteps and hurt each other, but they ultimately make the right choices and warm our hearts. Like religious truth, Community‘s heart is both inexhaustibly profound and completely obvious.

So very many religious and philosophical traditions hinge on the Golden Rule. Jesus himself said that everything else was pretty much window-dressing. Love your neighbor as yourself: it really couldn’t be simpler. And yet we have to be taught it, over and over again, in different ways and by different people, and we still don’t do it. It’s childishly simple, but it’s also really difficult.

In the same way, Community is a television show. More specifically than that, it’s a half-hour network sitcom. It plays by established rules and conveys a simple, feel-good message. At the same time, though, it takes such delight in exploring the limits of those established rules and finding new and awesome ways to express that simple message.

Community is a show about love, it’s a show written from a place of love, and I believe it’s a manifestation of God’s love in the world. I leave you with the moment I first knew this show was something really special and a nugget of pure wisdom: cabeza es nieve, cerveza es bueno.

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

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 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.

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 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.

Guest Post: ‘Women Without Men’: Gender Roles in Iran, Women’s Bodies and Subverting the Male Gaze

Guest post written by Kaly Halkawt.

The author Sharnush Parsipur wrote 1989 a novel that would become what could be called a modern classic in contemporary feminist literature. The book entitled Women Without Men is a story about how five women living in Iran during the 1950s end up in exile from the male-dominated society they live in that has in different ways deprived them their freedom. Although along their path into exile is not a simple one. They must all go through a painful metamorphosis and accept that the freedom they ask for alienates their bodies from society. All five protagonists come together in a garden which serves them as a space free from male domination.

This story has been visualized once as a video art installation consisting of five different videos by the artist Shirin Neshat. The video installation went under the name “Women Without Men” and was created from 2004-2008. The five different videos where entitled after the characters names; Mahdokht (2004), Zarin (2005), Munis (2008), Farokh Legha (2008) and Faze (2008). However the content of the entire constellation has varied based on where the installation has been exhibited.

Based on these five videos, Neshat retold the story once again but this time in a more linear narrative film. However this time she choose to exclude the story of the character Mahdokt, although one could argue that she appears in the film in form of a tree, but before we go into that I want to share my experience of the video installation that I saw at the Stockholm Culture Institute in 2009.

The video for Mahdokht was told through three different screens. Mahdokt fantasizes about planting herself like a seed in the garden and growing into a tree and literally erasing her body into the idea that manifests her spiritual character. Her desire is to through detaching her body from civilization, intellect and culture touch the freedom that seems impossible to gain with a female body in the world the way she experiences it. Mahdokt’s story can also be seen as a comment to the myth about the nymph Daphne who figured in Roman mythology. The myth of Daphne has been told in many different ways, but basically it goes something like this: The god Apollo is captivated by the beauty of Daphne. She refuses to give in for his sexual desire and as punishment the god Zeus transform Daphne into a tree.

A still image from the video Mahdokt

Mahdokt’s character can here be read as a representation of the female body and an attempt to erase the values and symbols the female body has embodied in mythology as the object. Parsipur/Neshat has rewritten the myth of the female body by making it the subject and not the object of the story. Mahdokt is the narrator of her story and she is not a victim. She actively chooses to offer her body to her ideal by becoming a tree in contrast to Daphne who is a victim who is being punished for not sacrificing her body.

Mahdokt’s action is stating that we can imprison bodies, but not ideas.

From a book to video installation and narrative film, Women Without Men is a work in motion. The adaptation for the screen that was directed by Neshat was highly praised by film critics all around the world and won the Silver Lion at the 2010 Venice Film Festival.

The film takes place in 1953 which politically is an unforgettable year in Iran’s history. The democratically chosen Prime Minister Mossadghe was overthrown by the CIA which created enormous protests. The political background story serves as a tool for creating what will be the revolution in the mind of the characters.

Shabnam Toloui (Munis)

In the first shot we see the character Munis committing suicide by jumping down from a roof, however she lives on in the story as the narrator. Later on in the film, we learn that one of the reasons for why she committed suicide was because she lived with a conservative brother who aggressively wanted her to stop following the protests by listening to the radio. He encouraged her to instead get married and “start a real life.”

The day of Munis’ suicide, we learn that her brother organized a suitable man that would come and ask for her hand in marriage. When Munis’ brother refuses to let her go out of the house, she decides to take control over the situation. By sacrificing her body for the sake of her integrity and political conviction, her death does not necessarily need to be read as a forfeit. Munis’ death leads to her freedom and becomes her politics. Its through her eyes after her death that we get to see the protests and demonstrations on the streets of Tehran.

Pegah Feridony (Faezeh)

It is also Munis action that leads to the awakening of her friend Faezeh. From the beginning, Fazeh is portrayed as a traditional girl who wants to live a “normal life” aka get married and have children with Munis’ brother. However when she finds Munis’ dead body on the street and sees how her brother digs it down in his garden to prevent the news of her suicide spreading and leading to an official shaming of the family name, Faezeh’s world is turned upside down. She gives up the idea of marriage and men and just decides to look for her own piece of mind. Munis’ ghost serves literally as the guide and takes Faezeh to the garden and leads her into exile.

Arita Sharzad (Fakhri)

Fakhri is the eldest of the gang and arguably embodies what Second Wave feminism has criticized: upper-middle class ladies who are bored serving as some sort of poupée (doll) for their husbands. Fakhri’s journey towards change starts when she meets an old friend who reminds her of the freedom that can be the price of getting married. She remembers how she used to write poetry and hang out with people who believed in culture as a political tool for change, an opinion that makes her husband laugh. So in her own “eat-pray-love” escapade, she buys a big house in the garden and leaves her relationship so that she can put energy and time into rediscovering and recreating herself.

Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres’ The Turkish Bath via Amiresque

The fourth character Zarin is a prostitute who decides to escape the brothel when she sees a client’s deranged face while they are having sex. Zarin never talks during the film and like Munis, she uses her body to free herself from the societal norms. Zarin is just her body, we don’t get her background history. I think one possible reading of why she is just reduced to a body in this film is a comment on the stereotypical images of women that have been created within the frames of Orientalism.

Some of the films key scenes are focused on Zarin. In one of the most visual scenes, Zarin is in a Turkish hamam (Turkish bath) and scrubbing her body until it starts bleeding. The misé-en-scene is an exact copy of Jean-Augustue Dominique Ingres’ painting The Turkish Bath (1862). This is a direct comment on the representational prevail of white upper-middle class men. This painting, among others, led to the creation of myths about women from the Middle East. Neshat literally tries to erase this myth in this particular scene.

Orsolya Toth (Zarin)

Another important scene that serves as a commentary for the male gaze is an image of Zarin floating in a river, alluding to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia (1852). In Millais’ painting, we see the suicide of Hamlet‘s Ophelia where she falls into the river and dies. Ophelia has been the subject of a lot of debate. How should we interpret her character? What values does she embody? This Shakespearian character is either referred to as a sick young damsel in distress or completely ignored and just seen as an object for male dominance in Hamlet. I think Neshat is trying to criticize the fact that Ophelia is almost never seen as her own character and only read in relation to Hamlet. Once again, Neshat tries to turn the female object into the subject.

Neshat uses Zarin’s body to criticize the stereotypical imagery of women in a few key scenes of the film by reproducing the exact same scenery as some historical paintings. However Neshat transforms Zarin’s body from object into subject, thus giving her the tools to go through a metamorphosis and take control over her body so that she can erase the values and ideas represented by men.

By giving each character their own voice to tell their story, Neshat questions the classical representation of women in Arab and Persian cultures. These women start off by being dominated in the patriarchy they live. Socially and politically, Munis is restricted by her brother. Intellectually, Fakhri does not have the freedom and the hope she had before she got married with an idiot (ie a man with power) and Zarin, before entering the garden, is just reduced to a sexual body used as a tool to control her position on a bigger scale since being a prostitute doesn’t always receive a lot of respect from society. But they all find their way to reinvent themselves in space free from male dominance. In case it’s not clear enough, this film is the queen of awesome films about women.

However one thing a bit fuzzy in Women Without Men is the portrayal of men. To sum it up, this is how Iranian men are characterized: men that live in Iran are uncultivated, uneducated rapists who crave control over women with no nuance of humanity in them. This contrasts with the Iranian men who have moved abroad, cultivated by the Western World and who see the value in educating women and treating them equally. But this is a post about the female characters so I won’t comment further other than to say the stereotype of men from Iran is not being questioned.

I never thought I would write an essay where I would find the female characters more well-written then the men. Deux point, Neshat.

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Kaly Halkawt is 24 years old and has a BA in Cinema Studies. Before starting work on her Master’s, she moved to Paris for two years, working as a Montessori Teacher and studying French at the Sorbonne. Planning a big academic comeback this semester, she is currently writing her Master’s thesis on a geneology of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope in Cinema Studies at Stockholm University.