Tag: Uncategorized

‘The Quiet Girl’s Guide to Violence’: The Manic Pixie’s Perspective

Written by MaxThornton.
“I have made a resolution. … People should not be allowed to get away with things.”
The Quiet Girls’ Guide to Violence poster
Actually creating matter by naming it might be the prerogative of the gods, but there’s a certain generative power in naming even the most mundane things. When something is named, it gets a categorization, a way for us to conceptualize and talk about it as we couldn’t before.
This happened memorably in early 2007, when then-A.V. Club reviewer Nathan Rabin coined the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” for a pop-culture phenomenon we didn’t know we needed a name for. Since, then the MPDG has been discussed extensively (not least on this very site), parodied extensively, and – as Amanda noted a couple of weeks ago – pronounced dead. All of this discourse proves, if nothing else, that (1) the MPDG is definitely a trope, and (2) we sure do like to talk about her, even though she irritates the heck out of us.
If the protagonist of Rafael Antonio Ruiz’s short film The Quiet Girl’s Guide to Violence can be considered a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, then she’s certainly my favorite example of the trope.
Holly (Jennymarie Jemison) wears a hideous Christmas turtleneck, a cardigan, a bow-shaped barrette, and thick-rimmed glasses. She’s a librarian and a barista, two quintessentially MPDG occupations. She speaks without using contractions and expresses an awkward naivety in her interactions. In a different movie, she would be a perfect storm of quirk, but both the superb acting and the stylish direction make it quite clear from the get-go that we should not expect cloying indie-pop adorkableness.

Jemison plays Holly with a chilly, staring intensity whereby every frame of her face can be frozen to show only a soulful, sorrowful thoughtfulness, but in motion her seething desperation is palpable. Holly’s flashbacks to an incident of harassment are heralded by a rhythmic pounding noise, signaling that her titular quietness is certainly only surface-deep.

Jennymarie Jemison as Holly.
The plot follows Holly’s revenge on two men who were responsible for a deeply scarring incident of harassment in her youth. Chance encounters with the men at her two places of employment spur flashbacks to the boys’ misogyny and sexual harassment, compelling her to take violent action.
Arguably, the film functions as a powerful feminist response to the MPDG trope. It is, of course, characteristic of the MPDG that she have neither agency nor personality of her own, existing solely as a corollary to the male main character. Holly upends that completely: She is a woman whose quiet, unthreatening quirkiness has been molded by misogynistic male dominance of her world, but she explodes that dominance and the identity it is has forced upon her. In a nifty stylistic touch, Holly’s glasses have lenses only in the scenes where she perpetrates violence. She can only see clearly when meting out her brand of vigilante justice; in the daily grind of her life, she is trapped in a role as false as any hipster’s empty frames. “I am seeing the world again, for the first time in a long time,” she declares to her coworker, a performance artist heavily influenced by Karen Finley.
In fact, this same coworker offers a rather blistering commentary on MPDG/boy relations: “No, I don’t think he likes you. I think he has a morbid fascination with you because he’s a fucking idiot.” It’s harsh, and motivated by her jealousy of the guy’s interest in Holly, but it’s not an unfair assessment of the usual trajectory of such films (heck, Joseph Gordon-Levitt said as much about his character in 500 Days of Summer). Holly herself seems to realize this, stepping back from harming the other woman too much. In a patriarchal society, other women are not the enemy.
Holly with a bat
  
My sympathizing with Holly is not a matter of condoning her violence, but of understanding its roots. A frightened Jeff can hardly believe that Holly is still so profoundly affected by one incident from years before, but he is overlooking the context. What seems to him an isolated instance of an awkward kid lashing out at a girl because he doesn’t know how to tell her he likes her is, to anyone with experience of being read as female in our society, the beginning of a lifetime of harassment and threats and abuse, a collective welter of misogyny that tries to force women to exist only in relation to male subjectivity. Beating men’s heads in is probably not a helpful real-world response, but it’s a cathartic fiction, and it is certainly not an unfathomable reaction to the pressures of being a woman in a sexist world.
The Quiet Girl’s Guide to Violence presents female rage with a nuance and sympathy rarely if ever seen in mainstream media. Holly’s actions are unsettling precisely because they are so understandable. It’s a brutal lesson, but one we men really need to learn: Women – even cute quirky MPDG-type women – do not exist for us.
The Quiet Girl’s Guide to Violence premieres online tomorrow at Fangoria.com as part of their “Screamers” program. More info at http://www.quietgirlsguide.com/.
Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, tumbles as trans substantial, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Can You Tell If A Movie’s Sexist? The Mako Mori Test Can Help by Melanie Mignucci at Bust

America – You Really Don’t Matter All That Much To Hollywood Studios Anymore… by Tambay A. Obenson at Shadow and Act

Wonder Woman Can’t Have it All by Alexander Abad-Santos at The Atlantic Wire

Science fiction is no longer a boys’ club by Ghezal Hamidi at Salon

And The Emmy Goes To… Women Directors by Amelia Rosch at Ms. Magazine’s Blog

Summer’s Final Thoughts: Wonder Woman, Strong Women, Indie Women and All the Women in Between by Melissa Silverstein at Women and Hollywood

45 Women of Color in Science-Fiction/Fantasy Movies by Karishma at Racialicious

Back in Black by Emily Hashimoto at Bitch Media


But what about Syria? Why talking about Miley matters by Verónica Bayetti Flores at Feministing


A sexologist’s two cents on the 2013 MTV VMAs by Dr. Jill McDevitt at A Day in the Life of a Sexologist

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks Weekly Picks

Can You Tell If A Movie’s Sexist? The Mako Mori Test Can Help by Melanie Mignucci at Bust

America – You Really Don’t Matter All That Much To Hollywood Studios Anymore… by Tambay A. Obenson at Shadow and Act

Wonder Woman Can’t Have it All by Alexander Abad-Santos at The Atlantic Wire

Science fiction is no longer a boys’ club by Ghezal Hamidi at Salon

And The Emmy Goes To… Women Directors by Amelia Rosch at Ms. Magazine’s Blog

Summer’s Final Thoughts: Wonder Woman, Strong Women, Indie Women and All the Women in Between by Melissa Silverstein at Women and Hollywood

45 Women of Color in Science-Fiction/Fantasy Movies by Karishma at Racialicious

Back in Black by Emily Hashimoto at Bitch Media


But what about Syria? Why talking about Miley matters by Verónica Bayetti Flores at Feministing


A sexologist’s two cents on the 2013 MTV VMAs by Dr. Jill McDevitt at A Day in the Life of a Sexologist

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

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

image
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.

Women in Sports Week: ‘Sports Night’: That ’90s Show

The cast of Sports Night

This is a guest post by Artemis Linhart.

“If you haven’t binge-watched Sports Night within one weekend, then you haven’t seen Shakespeare the way it was meant to be played.”*

This nuanced end-of-90s sitcom offers a peek behind the scenes of a cable sports news show, all the while mixing genuinely serious story arcs with brilliantly written characters and conversations. Captivating on many levels, the series experienced an untimely cancellation after just two seasons, which, for the most part, when it comes to television, is a sign of high yet underappreciated quality.
Taking a closer look at the female characters of the show, it is palpable that, while Sorkin views women as crazy, neurotic and flawed individuals, he sees all people as such.
This is precisely the reason why the show, not unlike his other shows, is said to be exceptionally well-written. While Sorkin is known to write most of his material himself (though it has been said that he is stingy when it comes to the sharing of writing credit), it is unsurprising that he has achieved just about cult status amongst fans for recycling whatever works. And work they do, the female characters of Sports Night–as women, as professionals, but most of all as believable human beings.

Felicity Huffman as Dana Whitaker and Sabrina Lloyd as Natalie Hurley in Sports Night

Like A Boss

On this show, it is the women who are in charge. The main characters besides the two male news anchors are Dana, the producer of Sports Night, and Natalie, her second-in-command and associate producer. They literally run the show, and not just on their network. From time to time, this is noted on a meta-level. At one point, after there has been a bomb threat to their office building, it is the guys who are freaking out, whereas the women remain calm.

As Dana tells them to pull themselves together, she concludes, “We’re in charge. We’re women in charge. And we’re keeping it together. That’s what we do.” Casey replies, sullenly, “Well, we’re men, and we’re petrified. That’s what we do.”

Dana meets with Casey (Peter Krause) and Isaac (Robert Guillaume)
Similarly, Natalie holds an important position and is well aware of it. She never seems hesitant with regard to decision making or apologetic about being in a position of control. As they are already dating, Jeremy playfully notes, “You’ve taken to bossing me around a lot, you know that?”

The following conversation ensues:
Natalie: Yes. You know why?

Jeremy: ‘Cause you’re my boss?

Natalie: Bull’s-eye, Jerome.

There is a mutual understanding about who’s boss, and there isn’t a moment in the series’ two seasons where women’s authority is questioned or dishonored.

Dana and Natalie are a team both on and off the air. They are not just coworkers but also very close friends and have a very strong bond akin to sisterhood. Team spirit is big on Sports Night as it is but, what is more, there is a very tangible solidarity amongst women. Not once do we see a cat fight, a trope so frequently employed in realms of television where women are involved. Arguments overflow with emotions at best, but never do they result in pettiness. They are invariably based at the very least on mutual respect and dignity.
Even Dana’s interactions with her coworker Sally Sasser, who turns out to be “the other woman” for both Dana’s long-time friend (with coveted benefits) Casey and her fiancé Gordon, are not spiteful but professional. The one time Dana attempts to confront Sally in rage results in the realization that it is not her place to reproach her. Halfway through her tirade, she ends up apologizing and they reconcile.

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

Between garbage can basketball and obsessing over stats, there is no way they could be mistaken for anything but authentic sports geeks. This is especially accentuated by the recurring role of Jenny, an adult film actress with a keen interest in sports and a solid command of baseball trivia.

While being the boss and being a woman do not pose a discrepancy on the level of the show itself, funnily enough, it is Dana, who, at one point, says:
“You know, you’re the boss all day long, and you’re barking out these orders and you just want… I don’t know. A check on your femininity, when you’re done.”

Coming from Dana, this is somewhat surprising, as it has never seemed to bother her in this particular way. She has always been the epitome of the gorgeous, desirable woman who just happens to be a sports nut (a type of person Sports Night is heavily populated with). As a matter of fact, just a few episodes prior, Dana appears in a revealing leather outfit, as she is on her way to a “biker chick” themed bachelorette party. While putting on her high heel boots, she asks Natalie:
“Tell me something. Why would the nickelback have set up five yards off the line on third-and-one inside the 50 and they’ve been going off-tackle all day?”

Clearly, this is a reference that only outright American Football enthusiasts would get. Her cascade of a monologue in sports jargon illustrates that her in-depth knowledge of sports goes hand in hand with her femininity, despite popular belief on and off television.

The cast of Sports Night (Joshua Malina as Jeremy Goodwin on the left)

Dana doesn’t just run the show that she produces, she actually runs the show everywhere else, as well. You might call her a bit of a control freak that, in all her neurotic ways, evokes comparison to Monica Geller on Friends. Dana is the center of the group who often speaks up for or makes decisions for others. Of all the women in charge in her group of friends and coworkers, she is without a doubt the leader. Just as she calls the shots on Sports Night, Dana does so in her private life. This is especially the case with her best friend Natalie, who looks up to her, and her long time love interest Casey. During the budding of Dana and Casey’s flawed romance there is barely a moment where Casey asserts himself. As he finally asks her out after 90 days of pondering, he receives a slight scolding for having waited too long.

Neil Finn’s song, “She Will Have Her Way,” is used in the Season 2 premiere as well as multiple times throughout the season. And, as is always the case with Dana, she will have her way. Right up until she doesn’t. On the night of what should be their first date, Dana claims to have had an epiphany and presents her new “dating plan”: instead of the two of them going out on a date as planned, they will postpone it, while Casey has to date other women for 6 months. The logic of this eludes everyone but Dana herself, yet she will not let go of the idea until it blows up in her face, as Casey finally decides to move on with one of the women he went on a mandatory date with.

Natalie in Sports Night
With regard to Natalie, one might point out that she has certain qualities of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. On looking more closely, however, it becomes clear that her character can rather be seen as a deconstruction of the trope. Bearing in mind that Sports Night premiered in 1998, a full seven years before the term was coined, Sorkin seems to have unwittingly been very much ahead of his time.

Besides being a stunningly beautiful and intelligent woman, she is portrayed as slightly quirky (though hardly any crazier than the rest of Sports Night‘s main characters). She often resorts to bizarre, impulsive behavior and clearly serves a purpose for Dan’s troubled character on several occasions. However, she is very well aware of her captivating charm and peculiarity and alludes to it every now and then. As for her relationship with Jeremy, she does partly hold the position of the vivacious, upbeat character that struggles to grab Jeremy by the hand, teach him to embrace life and, essentially, “live a little.” Yet, instead of reducing her to this function, Sorkin depicts her as an independent woman. It becomes clear that she is mainly looking out for her own interests. On an equally important note, Natalie doesn’t succeed in her efforts to get Jeremy to savor life and step out of his comfort zone until ultimately this is the reason they break up.

A Big Thing Badly

Sports Night experiences a crisis in one of the first few episodes, as Natalie is sexually assaulted by an athlete. In general, not a lot of backstory on Natalie is revealed in the course of the series, whereas we learn quite a bit about the family members of the rest of the ensemble cast. Consequently, this episode highlights her character in quite a meta way. It is established early on that Natalie prefers not to talk about private matters. She tries to dismiss the incident and only mentions it to her staff as they find out elsewhere. 
The cast of Sports Night watches a game
The incident poses a conflict on many levels. It is Dana who sends Natalie to do a pre-interview with a football player who happens to be a convicted felon. The objective is to question him about the off-limits topic of domestic violence against his girlfriend. Instead of sending Jeremy, Dana uses Natalie to “provoke a better response to the questions.”

As the assault is revealed, Dana exploits this to get an exclusive story. Realizing the highly problematic nature of her decision, she nonetheless makes a deal with the athlete’s representatives, having the ratings of her television show in mind:
Dana: “Despite a mountain of fairly immutable evidence, I am prepared to believe that what happened to Natalie didn’t happen to Natalie. And I’m confident I can persuade Natalie to see it the same way.”

In exchange for their discretion they would get 5 minutes of air time touching on the topic that would otherwise have been off limits.
Eventually, Dana calls off the interview altogether only three minutes before the show in an effort to do the right thing after all. Ultimately, the prospect of an exclusive news story makes way for decency regarding this sensitive subject. 
Natalie and Dana hug it out
Interestingly, the incident provokes a particularly adverse reaction in Jeremy, who at that time already carries a torch for Natalie. While the knight in shining armour attire certainly isn’t tailor-made for a type like Jeremy, he nonetheless feels compelled to take the athlete aside and warn him: “You touch her again, I’m gonna have you killed.” In a comment evidencing the show’s capacity to treat serious subjects with sharp and subtle humor, he goes on to say, “Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m gonna pay someone $50 to have you killed.”

Following the assault, Natalie gets death threats of her own. She literally gets slut shamed in the subsequent episode when a hateful message reaches her via email, saying “Dear slut, You should never have been in that locker room where men have just played the game of football.”
Felicity Huffman as Dana Whitaker in Sports Night
In the mean time, she receives special treatment from her co-workers. Initially, the crew wants to shelter her by giving her the rest of the night off. “Am I being fired?” she asks, assuming the position of being doubly victimized. As Natalie is distracted and makes mistakes later on, her staff is very understanding and refrains from calling her on it – very much to her distaste:
“Why not? Why aren’t you laughing at me? Why aren’t you mad at me? (…) Look, all I want is to get it right, and when I don’t, I expect to be treated like a professional. I expect to be yelled at. I want to be treated like the show is still important. I want to be treated like my job is still important!”

She sees her career in jeopardy, which she later explains to be the reason why she’d rather not have the public know about the incident. Natalie refers to a Boston Globe reporter whose story of sexual assault by an athlete was exposed, and asserts: “There isn’t a female sports journalist that didn’t learn their lesson from it.” 
Josh Charles as Dan Rydell and Peter Krause as Casey McCall in Sports Night
Clearly, being a female sports reporter bears certain considerations that being a male sports journalist generally doesn’t.

From parents’ disapproval (as Dana quotes her mother: “sports is no place for an educated woman”) to more serious issues as the one mentioned above, there are a myriad of reasons to become a woman working in the field of sports, to prove them all wrong, step by step, and take on this patriarchal society of ours.
* For those unfamiliar with the series: One of Aaron Sorkin’s many clever one-liners that keep resurfacing in his shows and are referred to as “Sorkinisms.”
 

Artemis Linhart is a freelance writer and film curator with a weakness for escapism.


Women in Sports Week: The Toughest Trio: A Review of ‘The Boxing Girls of Kabul’ (2011)

Saber Sharifi trains women boxers in The Boxing Girls of Kabul

This is a guest post by Rachael Johnson. 

The Boxing Girls of Kabul is a Canadian documentary about the boxing careers of three young Afghan women, sisters Sadaf and Shabnam Rahimi and Shahla Sikandary. It was written and directed by the Afghan-Canadian filmmaker Ariel J. Nasr. Based in Afghanistan, Nasr produced the recently Oscar-nominated live action short, Buzkashi Boys (2012).

The Boxing Girls of Kabul opens with harrowing archival footage of an execution of a woman at the Olympic Stadium in Kabul on November 16th, 1999. Many will recall this secretly-recorded film from news reports, but it will always disturb and haunt: the kneeling woman, clad in a pale blue burqa, attempts to turn her head to her executioner as she is about to be shot. Mercifully, the camera cuts to a blue sky and carries us directly to contemporary Afghanistan. We see, in close up, the determined brown eyes of a young female boxer training at the very same stadium where women were executed during the dark days of Taliban rule.

We are first introduced to Sadaf who tells us that she and her fellow fighters spar in the same gym where girls were imprisoned. She is somewhat frightened by the place itself but explains, “When we play sports, we forget our problems. When I box, I feel happy. I box because I want to advance myself, and advance Afghanistan.” Sincere and ambitious, the girls want to determine their own destinies. Shahla says, “In the future, I want to be the most progressive and bright of all Afghan girls…a champion.” All are hungry for medals. 
Image from The Boxing Girls of Kabul
Boxing has always, of course, been the most traditionally masculine, most brutal and most controversial of sports. Female boxing remains a divisive issue around the world and only became an Olympic event at the London 2012 Games. It is all the more remarkable that girls from a land scarred by gender discrimination have taken up the sport. The girls’ coach, Sabir Sharifi, explains, “The Taliban were absolutely opposed to sports. They had an especially strong opposition to boxing.” A girl boxer in a hijab is an incongruous image for many–or most–Westerners. For the Taliban, female boxing is simply sinful. Boxing has also, however, been the sport of the marginalized and oppressed so it is perhaps unsurprising that these young Afghan women have chosen boxing. The sport for the trio is identified with self-empowerment and female self-worth.

It is interesting to see the boxing girls of Kabul negotiate the streets and shops of the capital with their trainers–as well as journey abroad for competitions–but the interviews with them and their families at home and in the gym provide a more intimate and perhaps more illuminating portrait of the nature of their lives. In the locker room, we see the trio and their peers talk about exam results, tease each other about their hair and spray bottled water over each other. These glimpses serve to remind the viewer that their interests and aspirations are fundamentally the same as most young women around the world. They also give a strong idea of both their incomparable pressures and camaraderie.

Nasr also provides helpful insights into the attitudes of the men in the boxers’ lives. Their coach is a very likeable, middle-aged man. Sharifi formed the girls’ boxing team in 2007 with “a few brothers.” He himself was a victim of Afghan’s tragic, war-torn history. The 1980s Soviet occupation, he explains, put an end to his Olympic ambitions. Sharifi and his colleagues consistently demonstrate support and affection for their charges. He says he wants champions. There persists in the West an Islamophobic, racist belief–even among self-proclaimed progressive people–that all Muslim men in all Muslim lands dominate, control and persecute their daughters. The forward-thinking likes of men such as Sharifi constitute a formidable response to such bigotry. He is not alone. Shahla explains that it is her father who supports her the most in her family. “He thinks that a girl can be someone in the future,” she says. Sadaf and Shabnam Rahimi’s father is also encouraging while their progressive mother wants them to continue both their education and sporting career.
Image from The Boxing Girls of Kabul
Female boxing, of course, enrages the Taliban and Afghan conservatives in general. The girls are given the opportunity to compete in Vietnam and Kazakhstan. Unhappily, increased recognition brings increased intimidation for both trainer and coach. Sharifi is threatened on the street while Shahla experiences pressure to stop boxing from her brother. He is shown to be infinitely more conservative than her father. In English, he expresses concern that his sister’s boxing career will endanger the family in the event of a full-blown Taliban resurgence. He worries that the family will be accused of being “kuffar” (non-Muslim). “Nothing except this,” he insists. But is he merely motivated by concern for his family’s safety? He scorns his sister’s independence, accuses her of not praying with satisfactory piety and delivers this extraordinarily unsettling threat: “If I was in my father’s place, I would set so many restrictions she wouldn’t even be able to eat without being afraid.” But the girls bravely pursue their sport despite these difficult and dangerous circumstances.

There are other obstacles. Funds and facilities are inadequate. They do not even have a ring. In Vietnam and Kazakhstan, we see them outclassed and overwhelmed by their hosts. It is painful to watch, but I was reminded by a quote by the novelist and boxing writer Joyce Carol Oates: “Boxing is about being hit rather more than it is about hitting, just as it is about feeling pain, if not devastating psychological paralysis, more than it is about winning.” The girls, understandably, complain of inadequate training and resources, but they are also, of course, cutting their teeth. Shahla is fortunate to secure a bronze medal in Vietnam–there were only four in her weight class–gaining the attention of the Afghan media. Her father is proud of her achievement.

We learn, at the end of the documentary, however, that Shahla no longer competes. Pregnant with her first child, she visits the gym “when she can” and works part-time. You wonder if she will return. It is heartening though to hear that Sadaf continues to compete and that Shabnam aims to be a doctor. Perhaps they have been empowered by their mother’s words: “In Afghanistan, we have to fight against men to show we have pride.” 
Image from The Boxing Girls of Kabul
Documentaries like The Boxing Girls of Kabul are invaluable in that they give voice to the voiceless. These young women possess a rare courage. Spirited, ambitious and attractive, they make engaging subjects. The cinematography (by Nasr) is not particularly striking in The Boxing Girls of Kabul and it is a no-frills documentary formally. The director is modest and unadorned in both style and approach. The interviewer is a silent presence; the boxers as well as trainers and family members speak for themselves. This works well as they appear to reveal their hopes and fears quite openly. The documentary, however, is simply too short at 52 minutes. The trio’s stories could have been further developed. It is evident that they box for themselves, their gender and their country, but it would be have been rewarding if the filmmakers had explored their motivation more deeply. Their influences could also have been cited. Which fighters (male or female) inspired them?

The young women are trail-blazers in a patriarchal society still plagued by religious extremism. They are, equally, children of war. For decades, Afghanistan has been blighted by conflict. Bizarrely, the documentary does not mention that ongoing war between foreigners and the Taliban. The prolonged presence of the American military in Afghanistan is curiously absent from all conversation. It would have been interesting to know the boxers’ thoughts on the conflict as well as the role of the West in relation to the status of women in Afghanistan. The Boxing Girls of Kabul gives relatively little historical background and context. It does not explain how the Taliban came to power or shed new light on their mindset. (If you want to learn about the roots of Taliban, start with Ahmed Rashid’s 2000 book Taliban: Islam, Oil and the New Great Game in Central Asia.) 

Listening to Shahla’s conservative brother was, then again, quite enlightening. His obsession with what others think reveals a deep lack of imagination and reflects a fear of difference. Social conformity seems to have a tyrannical hold on him. The documentary does, however, unsettle stereotypes about both Afghan men and women. This is invaluable. Nasr has created an affecting, compassionate portrait of proud, independent Afghan womanhood in The Boxing Girls of Kabul. Ultimately, there are few things more moving than witnessing the endeavors of an oppressed group or people.

Rachael Johnson has contributed articles to CINEACTION, www.objectif-cinema.com and www.jgcinema.com.

Women in Sports Week: Documentaries That Inspire

This is a guest post by Marcela De Vivo.
The history of sports films goes back as far as the history of the cinema itself, starting with Thomas Edison’s silent celebrations of strongmen and prizefighters to cerebral sports dramas like Moneyball. Given the second-class citizenship afforded to women’s sports, it’s no surprise that few of the countless cinematic love-letters to athletics have showcased female athletes.
Over the past decade, however, a number of low-profile yet potent documentaries have arrived to stir up the rules. Here are five documentaries any fan of women’s sports—or sports in general—will not want to miss.

The Life of Million Dollar Babies (aka Golden Gloves), 2007. Directed by Leyla Leidecker

The Golden Gloves competition is the most storied amateur boxing tournament in the U.S. More than any other sport, however, boxing has been a true boys’ club, and an unspoken tradition barred females from entering since its inception in the 1920s. A new round of equality began in the mid-90s when a streetwise Brooklyn female pugilist named Dee Hamaguchi joined forces with the ACLU and pried the door of bias ever-so-slightly open.

Through a narrative pattern we often see in sports docs, we follow eight hopefuls striving for their personal bests as they keep their eyes on the prize of the 2005 finals in Madison Square Garden.

The Life of Million Dollar Babies is a powerful window upon the friction athletes often face not only on the field of gender, but also race and class. While male boxers are funded by the USA Boxing League, a technicality disqualifies females from financial support. When we witness the winner of the climactic quarter finals, a brassy Puerto Rican unable to go on to the finals simply because she can’t pay for it, we can’t help but feel the sting of social inequality.

The Heart of the Game, 2005. Directed by Ward Serrill

Perhaps a female-oriented cousin of the classic documentary Hoop Dreams, The Heart of the Game is at its core about the inspiring, unlikely relationship between African-American basketball player Darnellia Russell and tax lawyer-turned-coach Bill Rensler.

Russell’s remarkable journey begins with her struggle for identity at an almost exclusively white, privileged high school, plunges into her unexpected motherhood and the complications of being a teen mom and athlete, and climaxes with her graduation from high school and garnering of her region’s Player of the Year Award.

A movie as much about growing up as about sports, this gem will uplift anyone with a heart … and with its shoestring budget of $11,000, it’s a testament to the possibilities of independent filmmaking.

Unmatched, 2010. Directed by Nancy Stern Winters and Lisa Lax

A standout episode of ESPN’s ongoing 30 for 30 documentary series, Unmatched is a deftly-edited wealth of candid interviews that plays out like an epic clash of the titans. From their inauspicious entrance onto the women’s tennis scene in the early 1970s to their elevation to sports icons, Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova are bared to the audience in an intimate portrait of ardent competition and mounting admiration that matures across a span of over 80 fiery matches.

As a nuanced essay on the complex relationships obtained through time-ripened sports rivalries, this feature is truly “unmatched,” and along the way sketches the seismic shifts that have defined women’s tennis throughout the decades.

Training Rules, 2009. Directed by Dee Mosbacher and Fawn Yacker

Subtitled “No Drinking, No Drugs, No Lesbians,” the short, bittersweet Training Rules is an expose of another front on which female athletes face prejudice: discrimination based on sexual orientation.

Made as a political consciousness-raiser by a lesbian activist and a psychiatrist, Training Rules brings to light the paranoiac witch-hunting atmosphere that pervades Penn State’s women’s basketball team. (In light of the notorious sex abuse scandal that rocked that school’s football team, the film is a doubly potent indictment of hypocrisy and double standards.) By focusing on the especially tragic case of Jennifer Harris, a promising hoop-star whose career was crushed by bigotry, Training Rules makes the pain of discrimination personal and impossible to ignore.

Dare to Dream: The Story of the U.S. Women’s Soccer Team, 2005. Directed by Ouisie Shapiro

As with several of the docs already mentioned, Dare to Dream is not just about the struggle of individuals’ struggles for acceptance but also the grueling journey toward legitimacy within a particular sport. Over the course of the film’s duration, we get to know pioneering players Brandi Chastain, Mia Hamm, Julie Foudy, and Joy Fawcett, as well as the sweat and devotion they invested into making a once laughed-at franchise an Olympic spectacle.

All of these films are as packed with joy and pain as any glossy Hollywood product, and through the passions of their filmmakers, convey a sense of humanity few fiction flicks can compete with. By taking us through the lows as well as the highs, the crushing defeats as well as the delirious triumphs, these films inspire us by capturing the ineffable richness of sports and even life itself.

Marcela De Vivo is a freelance writer who works with Northwest to educate women on staying healthy and feeling their best. She enjoys getting outside and staying active with her daughter. Find her on Facebook today!

Anna Gunn Breaks the Fourth Wall in a ‘New York Times’ Op/Ed

Skyler White (Anna Gunn) sheds a light on our society’s misogyny.
It isn’t rare to see an actor or actress to take to the op/ed pages to pen support or disdain for political issues and candidates or to come forward with personal stories to enlighten and advocate. The actor or actress, however, typically speaks as an individual, removed from his or her fictional life. 
However, Anna Gunn (Skyler White on Breaking Bad) took to The New York Times opinion page to tackle an issue that brings the fictional world that Skyler inhabits into Gunn’s personal world. She weaves in the cultural causes and implications of the vitriol directed at Skyler’s character, at Gunn herself, and at certain kinds of women in our society.
In the beautifully written and poignant “I Have a Character Issue,” she describes how she expected, and even understood, that her character was not going to be well-loved at first. After all, she is Walt’s antagonist, and Walt is the protagonist–the greedy, depraved, meticulously drawn anti-hero.
In her analysis of the horrible response Skyler received from Breaking Bad fans (including Facebook pages that we’ve written about at length), Gunn briefly touches upon her fulfillment in playing the role, and her fear for her own safety when online threats and death wishes devolved from using Skyler’s name to actually singling out Anna Gunn–the real person, not the character she played. Her focus, however, is that this response to Skyler is part of a much larger problem in our culture.
Gunn writes,

“My character, to judge from the popularity of Web sites and Facebook pages devoted to hating her, has become a flash point for many people’s feelings about strong, nonsubmissive, ill-treated women.”

And with that, she nails it. Feminists have spent a great deal of time suggesting that the hatred of Skyler White (and other notable anti-heros’ wives) is rooted in misogyny. Vince Gilligan, the show’s creator and writer, acknowledged this in a Vulture interview last May. He said,

“…I think the people who have these issues with the wives being too bitchy on Breaking Bad are misogynists, plain and simple.”

For those of us who already knew that, this was a refreshing sound byte. However, there is much more to audiences’ reactions to Skyler, and Gunn’s piece takes that simple reflection on misogyny and unpacks it, giving meaning to our reactions to the fictional world as being indicative of our society as a whole. And she’s right.
Gunn says,  

“…I finally realized that most people’s hatred of Skyler had little to do with me and a lot to do with their own perception of women and wives. Because Skyler didn’t conform to a comfortable ideal of the archetypical female, she had become a kind of Rorschach test for society, a measure of our attitudes toward gender.”

The Skyler White Rorschach test has certainly revealed a great deal of hideous, blatant misogyny and hatred toward women who don’t conform.

Gunn’s New York Times op/ed breaks through a glass fourth wall. Not only is Skyler White one of the most complex female characters on television, but Gunn also uses her real voice in a national publication to lend force to the idea that the hatred and violence directed toward her character, and toward her, reveals much more about our society than most would be willing to admit.

Art imitates life. Life imitates art. And how we feel about that art tells us a great deal about ourselves. In the case of how much hate is directed at characters like Skyler White, it’s no wonder that the work of women’s equality activists–whether they are fighting for proper representation in the media or working for pro-women legislation–is not nearly done.

________________________________________________________

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

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Gender Flipping in Hollywood by Holly L. Derr at Ms. Magazine Blog

First Annual Studio Responsibility Index Finds Lack of Substantial LGBT Characters in Mainstream Films by Max Gouttebroze at GLAAD

25 Movies by Female Directors Every Aspiring Filmmaker Should See by Michelle Dean via Flavorwire

Will Black Actresses Ever Catch Up To Their Peers? by Aisha Harris at Slate 

Julie Taymor’s 10 Golden Rules of Moviemaking by Jennifer M. Wood at MovieMaker

13 Kickass Women’s Movie Roles Originally Meant for Men by Autumn Harbison at PolicyMic

How Cristina Yang Changed Television by Willa Paskin at Slate

The Skyler White Problem: Can We Accept Complex Female Characters? by Jos Truitt at Feministing

Wonder Woman Can’t Have It All by Alexander Abad-Santos at The Atlantic Wire

Racism within white feminist spaces by Mia at Black Feminists Manchester

On Feminist Solidarity and Community: Where Do We Go from Here? by Mikki Kendall at Ebony

A Day In the Life of a Troubled Male Antihero by Mallory Ortberg at The Toast

“The Butler,” My Grandmother, and the Politics of Subversion by Nijla Mu’min at Bitch Media

I Have a Character Issue by Anna Gunn at The New York Times


What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Bitch Flicks Weekly Picks

Gender Flipping in Hollywood by Holly L. Derr at Ms. Magazine Blog

First Annual Studio Responsibility Index Finds Lack of Substantial LGBT Characters in Mainstream Films by Max Gouttebroze at GLAAD

25 Movies by Female Directors Every Aspiring Filmmaker Should See by Michelle Dean via Flavorwire

Will Black Actresses Ever Catch Up To Their Peers? by Aisha Harris at Slate 

Julie Taymor’s 10 Golden Rules of Moviemaking by Jennifer M. Wood at MovieMaker

13 Kickass Women’s Movie Roles Originally Meant for Men by Autumn Harbison at PolicyMic

How Cristina Yang Changed Television by Willa Paskin at Slate

The Skyler White Problem: Can We Accept Complex Female Characters? by Jos Truitt at Feministing

Wonder Woman Can’t Have It All by Alexander Abad-Santos at The Atlantic Wire

Racism within white feminist spaces by Mia at Black Feminists Manchester

On Feminist Solidarity and Community: Where Do We Go from Here? by Mikki Kendall at Ebony

A Day In the Life of a Troubled Male Antihero by Mallory Ortberg at The Toast

“The Butler,” My Grandmother, and the Politics of Subversion by Nijla Mu’min at Bitch Media

I Have a Character Issue by Anna Gunn at The New York Times


What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

‘Breaking Bad’ and the Power of Women: Skyler, Lydia and Marie Take Control

Skyler is calling the shots now.
Written by Leigh Kolb
Warning: Spoilers Ahead

Throughout the last five seasons of Breaking Bad, the female characters have played key roles–from playing adversaries to aiding and abetting–yet they are often overlooked as secondary characters. In fact, a recent article in The Atlantic doesn’t even mention any of the female characters (save for a passing mention of Jane being a “lovely” secondary character in an infographic). While Walt and Jesse are the focus of the series, and they operate in a largely masculine and man-centric world, without Skyler and Lydia, they would have been stopped long ago. 
Skyler thought of the car wash. She got the car wash. She laundered the money and kept it safe. She kept the IRS away from her boss and her household. She is consistently rational and protective of her life and her family.
Lydia provided an “ocean” of methylamine. She had threats to the business taken care of. She expanded the operation overseas, and won’t settle for disappointed customers. She is fiercely in charge of her business.
Marie figured out the details of Skyler and Walt’s deceptions quicker than Hank did. She’s willing to attempt to steal–baby Holly this time, not a spoon–to punish Skyler and protect her niece.
Is there a new holy trinity in Albuquerque? 
We can’t help but think about the juxtaposition of scenes in last summer’s “Fifty-One” when Skyler submerges herself in the pool and we cut to Lydia at an electrical grid. Each episode, these two become increasingly invested in and in control of producing and protecting Walt’s legacy. Skyler confronted Lydia at the car wash, but that was her home turf. Surely they’ll meet again–and that meeting (like the water and electricity) could be deadly.

(It’s important to note that this most recent episode, “Buried”–perhaps the most woman-centric of the series–was also directed by Emmy-nominated Michelle MacLaren, who some critics consider the show’s “best director.” Another fun fact? A female chemistry professor is the show’s “lead meth consultant.”)

However, the male characters (and audience members) habitually underestimate the women. Hank assumes Skyler is an innocent victim. “Ladies first,” Declan says to Lydia. 

In “Buried,” Skyler and Lydia are rising to the top of their prospective enterprises. 
Skyler covers a sickly Walt with a feminine quilt, comforting him, and nursing him back to health. “Maybe our best move here is to stay quiet,” she says, acknowledging that to keep the money and keep all of them relatively safe, they need to not talk. She reassures Walt that Hank seemed to have “suspicions, but not much else.” (She knows this because Hank corners her in a diner and tries to get her to talk and give him something–she refuses, screaming “Am I under arrest?” to get out of the situation.) Hank calls her a victim. By the end of the episode, it is clear that Skyler’s no victim. How far could Walt have gotten without her?
The feminine is highlighted in “Buried,” and given great power.
Lydia visits the meth lab in the desert, where Declan and company are making meth that is not up to her or her Czech clients’ standards. “It’s filthy,” she says of the lab. “What are you, my mother?” Declan responds. They underestimate Lydia. If they would have listened to her and followed her pure-meth protocol, perhaps they would have survived. She covers her eyes as she walks past the carnage that she ordered (she was brought to the desert blindfolded, and chose to leave blindly). She steps next to corpses with her feminine, red-soled Christian Louboutins.

If the cooks had listened to Lydia, things would have ended differently.

Lydia often isn’t focused on as a main character, but those Louboutins are carrying her into a pivotal role. But will she be taken seriously? A critic at Slate said, “Her girliness is annoying—calling Declan’s lab ‘filthy’ was sure to make him reference his mom—but she also happened to be right. The man had no standards.” Would Walt have been “annoying” if he had critiqued the way a lab was run? Probably not. 
Even with Skyler and Lydia’s power plays and scheming, too many are still focused on the likability of the female characters. (In a thread on Breaking Bad‘s facebook page right now, hoards of people are calling for Skyler to be beaten or killed.) Lydia is too “girlish.” And Marie? “She is so annoying that she deserves to die.”
Critics and audiences wring their hands over who we’re “supposed” to like in Breaking Bad. If we operate in high-school superlative absolutes of “most likable” and “most hated,” how would Vince Gilligan have us categorize the characters? Are we truly supposed to feel good about liking anyone but Jesse?
In reality, we’re allowed to like male characters who maim, kill and hurt children. We’re allowed to root for male anti-heroes and revel in their dirty dealings. The women? Well, if they’re not likable, Internet commenters want them dead. 
In “She Who Dies With the Most ‘Likes’ Wins?” Jessica Valenti argues,

“Yes, the more successful you are—or the stronger, the more opinionated—the less you will be generally liked… But the trade off is undoubtedly worth it. Power and authenticity are worth it… Wanting to be liked means being a supporting character in your own life, using the cues of the actors around you to determine your next line rather than your own script. It means that your self-worth will always be tied to what someone else thinks about you, forever out of your control.”

And while I’m fairly certain Valenti wasn’t cheering on money launderers, murderers, or meth dealers, the women of Breaking Bad have appeared to break bad. Their moves will undoubtedly decide the course of the rest of the series.
Audiences, though, too often want to box female characters into “likable” and “hate and kill” categories. While Skyler populated the latter category for years, it seems as if people are now–to an extent–trying to wedge her into the “likable” category. (This critic lauds her as the “best character” on Breaking Bad, and describes her as a wife and mother and extols the virtues of her as a moral center–why does she have to be moral to be a good character? Is it because she’s a woman?) 
The Breaking Bad social media team coined #Skysenberg after “Buried,” showing that Skyler has crossed over and fully enmeshed herself with Heisenberg. (This is awfully and misguidedly close to her taking her husband’s name and adopting his characteristics. Because Skyler isn’t necessarily doing what she’s doing to protect Walt.) 
This symbolic move into Walt’s court, though, won her some new fans: 
Ugh, awful women.
High five, bro!
Heisenberg is sacred–no girls allowed!
And that’s what’s most important.
Yes. You’re right. Everything he did was for her.
Ding ding ding!
Skyler doesn’t care if you like her. Neither does Lydia. Or Marie. Gilligan himself recognizes the hatred and has said, “I think the people who have these issues with the wives being too bitchy on Breaking Bad are misogynists, plain and simple.” Skyler, Lydia and Marie are poised to decide the outcome of Breaking Bad. Skyler is calling the shots instead of Heisenberg. Lydia is decimating–and will certainly replace–a drug cartel. Marie desperately wants to see Walt and Skyler punished; her desire for revenge seems to overshadow Hank’s desire to protect his career.

In the excellent “I hate Strong Female Characters,” Sophia McDougall points out that

“If Strong-Male-Character compatibility was the primary criterion of writing heroes, our fiction would be a lot poorer. But it’s within this claustrophobic little box that we expect our heroines to live out their lives.”

Skyler and Lydia especially are clearly breaking out of these boxes, and Marie isn’t very far behind. But aren’t women supposed to be moral centers? Aren’t their roles as “wife” and “mother” supposed to define them? Aren’t they supposed to not get their hands dirty? We are so accustomed to enjoying and eagerly watching male antiheroes, but watching female characters embody the same traits has been, until now, incredibly rare.

At this point in the series, though, these complex female characters are calling the shots. (“The men are basically just sitting around diddling themselves,” my husband said.)

We don’t need to like female characters for them to be well-drawn and powerful (just like we don’t need to like Walt). We need to get over that. Skyler, Lydia and Marie aren’t just wives and/or mothers anymore. The are characters–not just female characters, or worse yet, “strong female characters.” They are effective and compelling, just how characters who happen to be women should be.

Skyler isn’t Skysenberg. She’s Skyler. And she’s got this.

Are we done here?

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

‘Fill The Void’ Beautifully Opens Doors To The Ultra-Orthodox World

Fill The Void film poster.
In this summer alone, film wise, I’ve been cordially invited to three weddings– Joss Whedon’s Shakespearean, black and white Much Ado About Nothing, Susanne Bier’s Italian scenic Love Is All You Need, and Rama Burshtein’s ultra-Orthodox Jewish Fill The Void.
Fill The Void was an entirely new cinematic experience, diving into Hebrew language, a culture familiar, but not fully illustrated to my knowledge. We are typically just shown pointed beards and tall hats. Wonderfully enough, a woman—Rama Burshtein, a filmmaker actually living and breathing the ultra-Orthodox sector–crafted this educational picture. She ultimately chooses to adapt her world on the big screen, which is quite brave, and irons out ignorance by showcasing strict and religious rituals taking center stage, but laces humor and integrity throughout, directing perspective from the eyes of Shira, female protagonist.
Shira (Hadas Turon) and her mother (Irit Sheleg) play supermarket spy.
It starts out innocently enough. Shira and her mother sleuth around a supermarket looking for Shira’s intended betrothal match. After a humorous phone call (“He’s in the dairy department!”), they find him and spy from afar. Shira is in wordless awe and is over the moon at witnessing the Miller’s son wipe and blow off spectacles.
“You’ll have to do a lot of washing,” her mother huffs. “Do you not have a tissue?”
That doesn’t hinder Shira’s enchantment over husband-to-be. As she stands and waits for Esther, her older sister, Shira’s demeanor is filled with excited tension. It’s funny how her exasperated body language attempts stoic composure, but joyous facial expression just terrifically shouts, “I want to tell someone!”
“It was strong I want to scream it out,” Shira exclaims.
“Stay calm, first of all,” instructs Esther. “He doesn’t need to know that you feel so strongly…”
The views of women transcend almost every culture–a poised, pious manner is revered and expected and opposition is horrifically demonized. In an old advertising class of mine, we were taught that boys/men were always seen as active and girls/women were meant to be still and decorative. Women must keep docile composure or else males would think her wild and wild equates to carefree and promiscuous–unwanted traits in a wife. In ultra-Orthodox, these terms are a stricter, devout practice.
Interestingly, however, Yochay, Esther’s husband tells Shira that she should “scream to the Lord!”
Shira’s world gets further complicated when Esther suddenly dies during ninth month of pregnancy. It is devastating because their sisterly bond was so sweet and genuine. Yet mourning goes to a whole other level–her sister’s husband is going to move to Belgium with the baby boy much to the horror of Shira’s family. The solution? Shira should marry him.
Shira (Hadas Turon) holds the bay with her mother (Irit Sheleg) looking on and Yochay (Yiftach Klein) looking pensive.
The situation goes from losing a loved one to taking that loved one’s place.
Shira is conflicted, questioning her confusing feelings and her desires. Another devastating milestone gets tossed along tattered path–the Millers have decided against her marrying their son. Shira considers Yochay, due to much pushing from her mother, but Shira continues asking Yochay questions about Esther, which is understandable. She did overhear him drunkenly professing Esther of love prior to childbearing death and it’s only appropriate to feel overshadowed by a sister’s ghost, for knowing that she was his first wife. That alone locks inside her emotions starting to unravel for Yochay, who longs for her to speak plain truth. In moments of solitude and softly spoken prayer, she wants to be brave and follow her heart, but fears of being considered bad stop her.
By the film’s end, visibly nervous with mascara dripping, rocking back and forth praying in rich, huge white wedding gown, Shira alone makes the life changing decision to be a mother to Esther’s child and wife to Esther’s husband.
Shira’s mother (Irit Sheleg), Shira (Hadas Yuron), and Shira’s cousin, Frieda (Hela Feldman).
Other female characters take up a great deal of screen time. It’s refreshing to see women have such power and be more vocal and at times having more authority over men when they are supposed to be seen as still, especially Shira’s mother. She’s the meddlesome figure who constructed the entire idea of Shira marrying Yochay. After seeing Yochay and Shira interacting with the little baby boy, she starts the fireworks, calling the rabbi and getting her husband on board—albeit reluctantly. Frieda, Shira’s cousin, gains the most sympathy. Frieda is always sad, hanging her uncovered head, at every female’s announcement of marriage and everyone gives her the pitying, “You’ll be next in line.” Esther had promised the sorrowful spinster that if anything happened to her, she would prefer Frieda to marry Yochay. Shira attempts to place them together, but for reasons unknown Yochay believes her cruel, but doesn’t even know why he doesn’t want to marry Frieda. Maybe it’s simply because he isn’t quick to compliment her beauty and youthfulness as he does Shira. Thankfully, however, Frieda finally does get married and is everyone’s pity turns to happiness. The unmarried aunt, who covers her head because the rabbi suggested it to stop embarrassing questions, also wants what’s best for Shira. She believes Yochay is too old and that Shira should be with a man her own age, but of course Shira’s mother wants to end their communication quickly.
“Stay away from Shira,” she warns.
Yochay (Yiftach Klein) & Shira (Hadas Yuron) become an instant family.
Overall, Fill The Void is a lovely piece of filmmaking that allows viewers a glimpse into Jewish customs and in a uniquely riveting way that sews in the roles of these women through a woman’s camera lens.
Rama Burshtein addressed reasoning behind creating Fill The Void to the Washington Post:
“I’m a storyteller more than anything, and I realized that we had no cultural voice. Most of the films about the community are done by outsiders and are rooted in conflicts between the religious and the secular,” says Burshtein, 45, mother of four who was born in New York and lives in Israel. “I wanted to tell a deeply human story.”
Fill The Void has been a tremendous feat for Burshtein’s first major screenwriting and directing effort. It swept the Israeli Film Academy Awards and became Israeli’s choice for Best Foreign Film nominee at the 85th Annual Academy Awards. Unfortunately, it didn’t secure a slot in the male-dominated category, losing in the first round, but it’s still laudable that a woman’s artistry and direction is chosen to represent an entire country. Her muted colors, quiet scenes, and modest wardrobe have a soft women’s touch, a poignant clarity that is delicately layered in a meticulous, respectful manner as it opens awareness towards this cloistered society. 
Fill The Void actress Hadas Yuron (left) with screenwriter/director, Rama Burshtein.
The performances were wonderful, especially Hadas Yuron, who is an actress I want to keep seeing. She portrays Shira’s plight in such a convincing light, in a brave performance that is both graceful and tender, rendered marvelously well by Burshtein’s compelling direction. A scene could be absent of distracting props and Yuron delivers poetry, a steadfast heart-moving somberness to Burshtein’s remarkable screenplay.
Hopefully, this isn’t the last beautifully articulated lesson Rama Burshtein entails on a place rarely seen outside of war. I cannot wait to see other offerings brewing inside of that incredibly courageous mind of hers.