White Savior Trope – Bitch Flicks

‘The Maze Runner’ Suffers from the Smurfette Principle and White Savior Trope

While watching ‘The Maze Runner,’ I couldn’t help thinking, wouldn’t this story have been so much more rich and interesting if it had been told from Minho’s or Teresa’s perspective? Why not feature a girl or a boy of color as the protagonist?

Written by Megan Kearns.

Like most Hollywood films, The Maze Runner — the latest young adult (YA) novel set in a dystopian future adapted for the screen — revolves around a white male protagonist. While mildly entertaining, rather than exploring new ideas and themes, it suffers from gender and racial tropes.

Echoing themes in Lord of the Flies (boys in the wild creating their own society) and The Hunger Games (dystopian setting, a treacherous obstacle course and adults manipulating children for a supposedly greater good), The Maze Runner follows Thomas, whose memories have been erased, as he’s transported into a community of boys living in a forest, called the Glade, in the middle of a fluctuating maze.

It’s a decent film. Nothing special, nothing great. Just fine. I couldn’t care less who lived or who died because all of the characters possess gossamer personalities. The beginning opens with disorientation dropping you right into the story. But beyond that, it didn’t really contain much suspense. Plus I was able to predict pretty much the entire plot about 20 minutes in. Despite a few similarities, The Maze Runner lacks the stellar acting, character development, gravitas and social commentary that helped catapult The Hunger Games to blockbuster success.

The racial diversity of the boys in the Glade pleasantly surprised me. Not only do we see multiple boys of color (who talk! who matter as characters!), it was fantastic to see boys of color in leadership positions: Albie, the group’s leader and the very first boy ever sent up, and Minho, the Keeper of the Runners. Now, I want to applaud this film for its diversity. However, the film (and the book too) can’t resist centering a white male protagonist who is considered “special” and “different” because he’s curious about things and asks questions. Of course, Thomas can figure out everything better and faster than everyone else, even the people who have been in the Glade for years. Sure, you could argue that perhaps that has to do with his repressed memories resurfacing. But I think the real reason is that heaven forbid we have a hero who isn’t white or male, aside from a few notable exceptions (Katniss in The Hunger Games, Tris in Divergent).

Even though there are white boys in the Glade, The Maze Runner feels akin to a White Savior narrative. Now, the White Savior trope is typically reserved for movies about Black people and slavery or Indigenous people, who need to be “saved” or “civilized” by a lone white hero. Yet it still parallels the trope as the boys in the Glade need the new white guy to teach them about the maze and to attempt an escape. Minho has been mapping out the maze for three years, no small feat since the maze changes every night. Yet it’s Thomas, not Minho, who figures out how to kill a Griever and the code to use at the end of the maze. It’s Thomas who motivates the others to try to escape when the others have become complacent.

Thankfully, Thomas doesn’t play a role in “establishing order and peace,” which Albie says they have achieved after the “dark days” of panic and fear. Author James Dashner was inspired by Lord of the Flies to write a series about boys depicting how “instead of killing each other and being animalistic, they would form a brotherhood and do whatever it took to protect each other.” The boys do all work cooperatively together. But Thomas is the only one who breaks the rules and enters the maze as it’s closing to try to save Albie and Minho. While Thomas doesn’t civilize the boys, he does demonstrate a sense of bravery and morality the others seem to ignore or repress. The film’s message seems to be that we should question things, not passively accept them, which Thomas’s presence in the Glade embodies.

So where are all the girls? The movie never explains that. And no one seems to ask that question. The boys are shocked to see a girl, Teresa, come up the elevator the day after Thomas arrives. She is the only girl to ever arrive in the Glade. Aside from an extremely brief performance by Patricia Clarkson, Teresa is the only female character we ever see.

One nice change from most YA movies is the lack of a predictable love triangle or the emergence of a love story. With the presence of one girl, the film could have easily fallen into that trap. Love stories aren’t in and of themselves bad. In fact, I love them. It annoys me how often media denigrates love stories, typically because women and girls are the primary intended audiences. No, I’m glad no love story exists because it usually reduces a female character’s role to nothing more than an object of desire for the dudes in the film. It also typically reifies heteronormative relationships, also queer diversity would have been great to see here.

Teresa is the epitome of the Smurfette Principle. She is the only girl amongst 50 or so boys. Lacking true agency and personality, Teresa’s sole purpose in the film appears to be to potentially create confusion and chaos amongst the boys and to inspire Thomas. Sure, we see her acting feisty as she throws items off of a tower and tosses a torch at a Griever. But ultimately, her role only matters in how it relates to and impacts the male characters. Yes, Teresa tells Thomas that maybe there’s a reason they’re both different. And she encourages him that they should escape. But that’s about it. If I had any hopes for Teresa’s growth in the subsequent films in the trilogy (four books if you count the prequel), this article on the sexism in the books dashed that.

The Smurfette Principle remains so problematic because it reinforces the notion that “boys are the norm,” only their perspectives matter and society values girls only in their relation to boys. Talking about the film adaptation and gender, The Maze Runner author James Dashner said, “It’s refreshing to have the main character be a male for once, seems like there’s been a lot of female leads.”

Ummmmmm, pardon me? No, no, no. Just. No. That’s an extremely problematic statement. So because there have been a few female-centric film franchises based on YA novels it’s “refreshing” for the main character to be male? Uh oh, lady movies have been doing well at the box office. Gasp! BRING BACK THE BOY MOVIES.

No, there is nothing “refreshing” about having a male protagonist. We are inundated with media revolving around cis, straight, white men and boys. Lest you think books overflow with female protagonists, they don’t. In fact, a chasmic gender gap exists in children’s literature. In YA-adapted films, for every Katniss, Bella and Tris, we see myriad male protagonists — Harry Potter, Ender’s Game, Eragon, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, I Am Number Four, Hugo, The Seeker: Dark is Rising, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Giver. Not only does a dearth of female protagonists exist in films and TV overall, but also in films geared specifically towards children and television programs for children.

It matters that girls (and all genders) see diverse representations (gender, race, sexuality, age, body size, people with disabilities, etc.) on-screen. It matters that girls see themselves reflected in media.

While watching The Maze Runner, I couldn’t help thinking, wouldn’t this story have been so much more rich and interesting if it had been told from Minho’s or Teresa’s perspective? Why not feature a girl or a boy of color as the protagonist? Even though it’s framed as a male-centric story, it still could have contained complex, nuanced fully developed female characters. It could have made an intriguing commentary on constricting, stereotypical gender roles or the toxicity of hyper masculinity. It could have explored how gender and race impact social structures and people’s experiences. Maybe I expect too much from my movies.

Despite its racial diversity, instead of forging a new trail, The Maze Runner follows a fairly formulaic and familiar story filled with tired tropes.

Megan Kearns is Bitch Flicks’ Social Media Director, a freelance writer and a feminist vegan blogger. She’s a member of the Boston Online Film Critics Association (BOFCA). She tweets at @OpinionessWorld.

Think There Aren’t Feminist Themes in ‘The Purge’? Think Again

Movie poster for The Purge

Spoiled by Stephanie Rogers.

Turns out, the best way to see the latest violent horror film is to watch it in a packed theater in Times Square. The audience laughed together, squealed together, shouted at the screen together, and collectively bonded over the most ridiculous features of the movie as well as the more progressive aspects.

As the credits rolled, a young Black woman sitting behind me stood up and yelled, “And the Black dude survives!” I mean, hadn’t we all been thinking it? We’re so used to filmmakers killing off characters of color, especially in horror films, that watching a Black dude walk into the sun at the end of a movie after saving a bunch of rich white people stood out as a fucking anomaly. The Purge is certainly problematic, but it surprised me to feel a sense of … hope at the end of it. Could this reversal of the white savior trope start a new trend in filmmaking? And did a film finally punish a Rich White Dude instead of celebrating his successes at the expense of others? And what would movies even be like if these became the new tenets of onscreen storytelling?

I like to do this thing sometimes where I show up at films with absolutely zero information about them. The Purge looked like a fun movie to try that with, and I’m glad I did it; if I’d known the premise of the movie in advance, I doubt I could’ve talked myself into paying 75 dollars to see it and spending 45 minutes slow-walking 3 blocks to the theater in the most crowded area of Manhattan. Luckily, the plot made itself clear within the first few minutes.

Video footage of the annual Purge

It takes place in the future, nine years from now in the United States, which boasts a government known as The New Founders of America (NFA). The New Founders have instituted an annual day of murder and mayhem dubbed The Purge, allowing anyone to roam the streets freely in search of people to violate so that they might purge themselves of their lurking hate and rage. It lasts twelve hours and during that time no emergency services or police officers exist, making it a free-for-all. Not everyone is required to participate, but people are encouraged at least to indicate their support of The Purge by placing a vase of blue baptisias (baptism, get it?) on their front doorstep in a gesture of solidarity. While the family the film focuses on, The Sandins, appears not to necessarily enjoy The Purge or participate in the “festivities,” they support its existence, mainly because the institution of The Purge lowered the once-staggering unemployment rate to 1%, saving the economy and making the annual crime rate almost nonexistent. The main characters see it as a tolerable, necessary evil, and besides—they’re the richest people in their state-of-the-art secured neighborhood; what’s the worst that could happen to them?

“Don’t forget to put the Baptisias on the porch, Honey!”

Well, they could help a Black dude avoid getting murdered by a bunch of creepy, self-proclaimed “highly-educated” white people in their twenties, who roam the gated suburbs carrying machine guns and machetes and wearing masks like they just wandered off the set of The Strangers. Your bad, Sandins, your bad.

WTFWTFWTF

Let me take a step back.

The Sandins actually fucking suck for the most part, at least in the beginning. Ethan Hawke plays James Sandin, who works as a security developer and who clearly profits off the The Purge; the Sandins own the biggest house in their subdivision—a jealous woman neighbor sarcastically “jokes” that The Purge Survival Systems that James sold to everyone in the hood obviously paid for the new addition to the Sandins’ home—and James himself gloats during that night’s family dinner about his rise to the spot of Top Seller at his security firm. (Rich White Dudes profiting off the hardships of others … does that sound familiar to anyone?) Mary Sandin (Lena Headey) gives the impression she’s a homemaker; we see her cooking dinner and chiding her children (Zoey, a high schooler and Charlie, a younger teen) as she readies them for the pre-purge lockdown, and she leaves the house only to place the baptisias on the porch and speak with the neighbor who envies her family’s wealth. The Sandins seem truly clueless about the extreme jealousy all the less rich white people (minus the token, light-skinned woman of color) feel toward them, but the audience gets the message all over the place: Sandins, consider yourselves fucked.

Uh-Oh

On the surface, The Purge aims to critique the sick shit going on in our country right now, albeit very problematically. Dan Gainor, VP of Business and Culture at the Media Research Institute called The Purge “an obvious attack on the Tea Party and Christians” and also argued that:

… the movie is a direct attack on the NRA, an organization filled with millions of law-abiding gun owners. The loony left’s reflexive hatred of the 2nd Amendment is founded in the concept that people who don’t break the law are somehow evil for exercising the Constitutional rights.

Okay, Dan Gainor.

The truth? No anti-Christian or even anti-gun message exists in The Purge, although the director, James Monaco, has said in interviews that the film does, in fact, allude to an indictment of gun culture. In reality, The Purge employs extreme gory violence that undercuts any potential critique of violence, and the gruesome knife scenes and weaponless face shattering against tables stick out way more than the gun stuff. At times, The Purge even seems to support gun ownership; the Sandins wouldn’t have survived those twelve hours without guns, and owning a gun for the protection of oneself and one’s domestic space is a much-touted NRA message. The anti-Christian thing, too, is a reach. The characters worship money for sure, and the film critiques that, but neither Christianity nor any religion ever come up.

Unfortunately, The Purge becomes muddled in its message about government; Big Government runs amok here—an old school conservative’s nightmare—and The New Founders essentially sanction the murder of the have-nots, the people on the lower rungs who can’t afford James Sandin’s security system to cordon themselves off from the annual purgers. If anything, it supports the old school conservative argument against Big Government, and a viewer could easily read it as a cautionary tale for a federal government that holds too much influence over its citizens.

State-of-the-Art-Secured McMansion

On the other hand, neo-cons of 2013 seem to think they dislike Big Government while simultaneously inviting it into wombs all across America, so who the fuck even knows anymore. The point is, The Purge wants to yell from the rooftops, “How awful for the government to endorse the murder of its citizens!” but ultimately yells, “How awful for the government to endorse the murder of its citizens … but, wait, look how well it works when we rid the country of these homeless welfare seekers!” The Purge tries to have it both ways and fails to deliver any real cohesive message regarding guns, religion, or the role of government.

But I definitely heard the slam against the one-percenters loud and clear, and what a welcomed fucking change from the endless dumping of Hollywood Mancession films into the multiplex. The Purge imagines a science fiction-esque United States where the rich take over entirely and wage a violent war against the lower classes, even going so far as to pass a Constitutional Amendment (the 28th) to require its existence. (Most government officials naturally receive legal protection from harm during The Purge.) Simply put: this futuristic United States decides that murdering those most in need makes more sense than uniting together in support of them. In this way, the film does seem to offer a critique of the country’s current fringe groups (the Tea Party, most Republicans) by illustrating a worst-case scenario for a society that values capital over people—and fuck if it didn’t scare me a little.

This is the scariest person I’ve ever seen on film

Because this is a film about class relations and capitalism, the less rich (white people) end up turning on the super rich (white people) during the night—another nod to the idea that unregulated capitalism leads only to societal destruction. The end of the film includes audio of newscasts that play over the credits, with broadcasters reporting that the high number of deaths made that year’s Purge the most successful ever. So, while the film might not necessarily conclude with any real epiphany by the United States and its citizens (yay for killing the homeless!), it allows the audience a glimpse into the lives of a few one-percenters who try to destroy one another, all because of money. Oh, and because Charlie Sandin (a not-yet-sociopathic teen) decides to help a Black dude. “And the Black dude survives!”

As a feminist movie critic, I adored these flips on conventional horror tropes, and several of them exist.

Charlie uses his Robot Baby (omg) to help hide the Black dude from his parents

The White Savior: The Black dude, who seriously remains nameless, shows up in their neighborhood after the Sandins’ purge lockdown (where a hardcore security system barricades their entire home). Charlie Sandin hears gunfire in the streets and sees in the surveillance cameras the Black dude yelling for help, covering a bleeding wound. Charlie zooms in on the man’s terrified face and decides, “Duh, I need to help this guy.” So he unlocks the security system and yells for the shocked-as-hell Black dude to come inside, much to the dismay of his parents. At first, I thought, “This white savior trope again?!” but it didn’t last long. While Charlie helps the man, the older Sandins clearly want no part of it, especially after a group of asshole college kids (that I will forever refer to as “the highly-educated murderers”) threatens to break into their home if they refuse to release the Black dude back into the streets. See, “that homeless swine” belongs to them, and if they don’t get to kill him, they’re more than willing to kill the entire Sandin clan instead. So, duh, the parents torture the Black dude—in an effort to throw him back to the highly-educated murderers—while Zoey and Charlie freak the fuck out like, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING.”

Charlie watches the Black dude on surveillance cameras

The Protective Patriarch: All of this occurs in the name of James Sandin protecting his perfect, white nuclear family. He simultaneously apologize-stabs the Black dude several times while saying, “I’m sorry. I need to protect my family.” Mary Sandin, though, gets her, “James, you’re no better than the people out there!” on—because women and children always play the role of Moral Compass when men go astray. That trope unfortunately remains intact for the rest of the film, culminating with Mary’s decision not to murder her new home invaders (the less-rich jealous neighbors, at this point; did we NOT know they were gunning for the Sandins, too?). At one point Mary says, “Too many people have died tonight, so we’re going to end this night in fucking peace.” Or something. Even the Black dude says to James, “You need to protect your family,” offering up himself to the highly-educated murderers, but James experiences a swift change of heart and refuses to sacrifice him. Thanks to the women and children.

And in a way, I liked that the women and children felt compelled to protect the Black dude and not throw him to the wolves/preppies; I didn’t read their desire to do so as an employment of the white savior trope because these highly-educated murderers aimed to roll in there and kill everybody regardless. So the Sandins weren’t saving the Black dude as much as they were making it only slightly more difficult for him to get murdered. “And the Black dude survives!” in the end. And saves (most of) the Sandins. And walks off into the sun. After looking at Mary Sandin and saying, “Good luck” all deadpan. Ha.

Zoey secretly making out with the bro her dad hates

The Sexual Teenage Girl: Zoey Sandin interests me. Her character follows conventional horror film tropes from the get-go: she dates an older boy, much to the dismay of her disapproving dad because Daddy’s Little Girl. She sneaks around behind her family’s back, and her boyfriend even hides out in her room, staying put for the Sandins’ home lockdown. They make out on her bed while she wears a fucking schoolgirl outfit slash uniform; the scene screams INNOCENT VIRGIN about to HAVE SEX and then DIE because THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE. But. Her dad kills her boyfriend instead in a good ol’ Purge Family Shootout after her boyfriend pulls a gun on James out of nowhere (presumably to purge himself of the rage he feels for not being allowed to date Zoey), and James fires back in self defense. Zoey, a little devastated, runs off and hides for some reason, probably because THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE and groups never stick together.

Eventually, the highly-educated murderers breach the Sandin barricade, and we find Zoey hiding under her bed while—duh again—she sees one of them STOP beside her bed. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE. While this happens, she overhears another murderer—who’s stroking a photo of Zoey—say, “Exquisite. Save her for me, won’t you?” I immediately thought, please don’t rape her please don’t rape her because THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE, and horror films dole out punishment to their sexually provocative heroines hardcore. But the true highlight of The Purge, for me at least, occurred when Zoey murdered the fuck out of the photo stroker, saving (most of) her family and flipping the Sexual Activity Is Punishable By Death convention on its ass.

Zoey hides under her bed (THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE)

So, all in all, and as unwieldy as The Purge gets (not unlike this review), I couldn’t help but enjoy most of it. The Rich White Dude gets punished, and the minority characters (including women) survive. That shouldn’t be a progressive movie ending in 2013. It is.

Foreign Film Week: ‘War Witch’: Finally, a Movie About Africa Without the Cute White Movie Star

Guest post written by Atima Omara-Alwala.

So if something happens somewhere in Africa, and a white person is not there, do people hear it? well, according to Hollywood at least, no. There is an obsessive need in Western films to legitimize the African story and life through the existence of a major white character in the movie like The Last King of Scotland with James McAvoy or Blood Diamond with Leonardo DiCaprio, or even the The Constant Gardener with Rachel Weisz and Ralph Fiennes. These movies attempt to chronicle the horror of civil war or corruption that leads to major conflict in African nations. As the daughter of African immigrants who both lived their lives in a war torn country, I am grateful these stories are even being told but it’s a shame that the existence of attractive white movie stars is necessary to tell the story. Even more the reason, War Witch pleasantly surprised me. War Witch is a story from the perspective of one young African girl’s journey to reclaim her life in the face of war and sexual assault.

Primarily filmed in the Democratic Republic of Congo, War Witch is a 2012 Canadian drama film written and directed by Kim Nguyen. According to Canadian news The Globe & the Mail, Nguyen himself part Vietnamese and French was inspired by a Burmese story he read about child soldiers. Nguyen’s inspiration became War Witch. The story of a 12 year old Komona (Rachel Mwanza) who lives in a rural village in Africa when civil war in her country interrupts her childhood. Rebel forces invade her village, in a very painful scene, Komona’s induction into warfare is choosing between shooting her own parents (by the orders of the rebel commander) or watching them die a painful death at the hands of a machete. The scene is already heart wrenching but it becomes even more so when her parents say to her soothingly, “it’s okay” if she shoots them. After she kills them, she is taken from the only home she’s ever known to become one of rebel forces many child soldiers.

The film walks you through what life is life as a child soldier with rebel forces: waging guerilla warfare at any given moment, sleeping in the woods, eating rations. Komona adjusts to her new existence with a depressed and stunned silence. A fellow child soldier and albino boy named Magicien (Serge Kanyinda) befriends her and occasionally sneaks her food through their journey.

Aided by “magic milk” or a hallucinogen from a tree sap, that Magician finds for his fellow child soldiers to drink. Komona begins to see her parents and the ghosts of others killed by rebel forces who tell her how to avoid surprise attacks. She becomes so good at predicting surprise attacks she becomes the prized “war witch” to the rebel forces and particularly the “Great Tiger” the leader of the rebel forces played by (Mizinga Mwinga). In an interesting twist, on an attack gone awry one day, Magician convinces Komona to leave the rebel forces with him, confessing his love for her and desire to marry her.

What I love is despite what life has thrown at her Komona is a determined girl. While clearly drawn to Magicien, she refuses to marry him unless he can find a white rooster, which in her culture her father said, “when a man can find a white rooster, he can marry you”. Probably between her desperation to cling to family traditions, and to set some standards for herself she sends Magicien on what is a hilarious rooster chase (and a much needed lull from the horrors of war). Even though she finally consents, to marrying him without the white rooster (as he has become family to her while on the run), Magicien remains determined to find a white rooster, to prove he is worthy of her, which he does.

Afterwards, Komona and Magicien marry and they arrive at Magicien’s Uncle’s home. Magicien’s Uncle is called “Boucher” which is French for “butcher”. Boucher (Ralph Prosper) cuts meat for a living. It is learned the Boucher watched his entire family being butchered by a machete. Boucher’s trauma from watching his family cut to pieces is so strong he needs an empty pail next to him while he cuts animal meat, so he can vomit in pail due to the memories. This shared trauma bonds him and Magicien and Komona together like a family. And for a time, Komona is happy.

An abrupt turn of tragic events places Komona back in the hands of rebel forces and this time becomes the sex slave of the rebel commander. Komona is barely able to take it upon learning she’s pregnant as a result of continuous rape and exacts an excruciating painful revenge on her assaulter.

The rest of the movie focuses on her life post her second escape from the rebel forces. She returns to stay with Magicien’s Uncle, Boucher. Like Boucher she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. But they live in a world where rape is not even discussed (let along counseling services provided), and post-traumatic stress disorder is even less understood, Komona wrestles emotionally for peace. She sees a priestess to atone for her murders of countless people including her parents. The ghosts of her parents still haunt her dreams and she has regular nightmares of being attacked. And on top of everything else, she grapples with the expected anger and horror of being pregnant by her rapist. This is a lot to deal with for a woman of any age let along a young girl like Komona.

Why do I love this movie? It is a Western film of a civil war in an African nation told through the eyes of not just the Africans living through it, but through an African girl living the trauma and grappling with resolution for herself. Director Kim Nguyen came up against challenges in the film industry because of this take. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Nguyen said: “I had brutal answers that would tell me a Black main actor doesn’t sell.” This makes it even more outstanding that War Witch not only swept, Jutra, the Quebec film awards but was a contender for the Golden Bear (equivalent of Best Film) at the 62nd Berlin International Film Festival in February 2012. For her work, Rachel Mwanza won the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the Berlin festival and Best Actress at the 2012 Tribeca Film Festival. War Witch also received the much coveted Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film of 2012.

It is amazing that for such an award-winning film, War Witch is not legitimized through the presence of a white European spectator (like in all the previously aforementioned Western films) who observes the tragedy and participates in what can only be called self-flagellation about why they can’t be a better “Great White Hope” for the poor Africans.

Another reason I love this movie? The men in Komona’s life do no legitimize her either. It is Komona’s journey alone, on her own defined terms, to redefine her life when for so long it was defined by her captors and everyone around her. It is also her journey to womanhood. It is interesting how Komona reaches some peace finally at the end of the movie, but the viewer is secure in knowing that it is her resolution and no one else’s.

———-
Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on 8 federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment & leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.