Women in Comedy – Page 2

‘The Mindy Project,’ Selfies, and Feminist Ambivalence

Mindy Lahiri knows she’s hot, she’s comfortable saying it (“bet you didn’t think with this bod that I had brains too, and pretty good boobs”), and she takes it as a given that others generally agree. When Mindy slaps a stranger in a case of mistaken identity, she regrets it not because he was innocent, but because he’s a European immigrant, and “he’s gonna go back to his country and say ‘In America, hot girls can do whatever they want.’ That’s a bad message, Danny!”

Mindy Kaling on 'The Mindy Project' — Mindy Kaling on ‘The Mindy Project’

My relationship with The Mindy Project is as complicated as its protagonist’s average romance. All feminism and politics aside, I’m ambivalent regarding its actual quality as a television show. Every episode makes me laugh out loud, but the structure and pacing can be, well… there’s an obvious reason this show abandoned its working title of It’s Messy.

Some of the characters are extremely appealing (Dr. Lahiri herself, of course; Danny Castallano, who taps into something deeply imprinted on me from years of living in the Good Ol’ Italian Boy thicket of North Jersey; Morgan, the sweet-hearted human non sequitor).

"I have the right to life, liberty, and chicken wings." - one reason I love Mindy Lahiri. — “I have the right to life, liberty, and chicken wings.” – one reason I love Mindy Lahiri.

And then there is everyone else, who are bland at best (Ed Weeks’s Jeremy), irritating at worst (Adam Pally’s Peter), and universally pointless and without a clear place in the show, contributing to an overall disjointedness that has barely smoothed out over the course of two full seasons. Despite their fuzzy and unsuccessful characterization, Jeremy and Peter still get plenty of screen time and dialogue.

Contrast the small and dwindling number of female supporting characters on the show, who are strictly on the sidelines. Mindy’s best friend Gwen (Anna Camp) was originally meant to be a main character, but was quickly edged out and forgotten, ultimately appearing in only 13 episodes. Nurse Beverly (Beth Grant) gets a lot of laughs, but compare her screen time to Morgan’s, who fits essentially the same role (bizarre nurse). Betsy (Zoe Jarman) might seem like a one-note “gasp!” character, but think about how far Community took Annie Edison? And then there’s Tamra (Xosha Roquemore), the only other woman of color on the series, who is a pro forma sassy Black woman straight out of an ABC sitcom circa 1992. Gwen might not have fit within the workplace setting of the show, but there have been opportunities to add other main female characters: Dr. Lahiri is the only woman doctor to have practiced with Shulman and Associates, even though we’ve seen at least six doctors work there, mostly young, and women make up 75 percent of current OB/GYN residents.

Mindy Kaling surrounded by white dudes. (Like on her show) — Mindy Kaling surrounded by white dudes. (Like on her show.)

Which pulls me back to my EVEN MORE COMPLICATED feminist feelings about this show. I admire Mindy Kaling as an extremely funny and talented actress and writer, and love her as a relatable celeb persona (I’m writing this piece in bed! Mindy Kaling writes episodes of TV in bed, as per her memoir! Stars: they’re just like us!). I respect how far she’s come as a woman of color in television and in comedy, two playgrounds full of white dudes hogging all the shovels in the sandbox.

The Mindy Project's original writing staff, from Mindy Kaling's instagram — *The Mindy Project*‘s original writing staff, from Mindy Kaling’s Instagram

But Mindy Kaling is one of those people who finds a secret passageway through the glass ceiling and then just holds up a sign that says, “sorry, suckers!” to the people left on the other side. Her initial writing staff had only one other woman on it, and only four women other than Kaling have earned writing credits on the show. When asked about the lack of diversity on her show at SXSW last March, she answered:

I look at shows on TV, and this is going to just seem defensive, but I’m just gonna say it: I’m a fucking Indian woman who has her own fucking network television show, OK? I have four series regulars that are women on my show, and no one asks any of the shows I adore — and I won’t name them because they’re my friends — why no leads on their shows are women or of color, and I’m the one that gets lobbied about these things. And I’ll answer them, I will. But I know what’s going on here. It is a little insulting because, I’m like, God, what can I — oh, I’m sitting in it. I have 75 percent of the lines on the show. And I’m like, oh wait, it’s not like I’m running a country, I’m not a political figure. I’m someone who’s writing a show and I want to use funny people. And it feels like it diminishes the incredibly funny women who do come on my show… I don’t know, it’s a little frustrating.

Kaling is right that she’s held to a double standard. All showrunners should be made to answer for the lack of diversity on their shows and in their writing staff. Mindy Kaling should get asked more questions about her art, and not her symbolic importance. But her answer here is a cop-out that perpetuates that system of unfairness. “I want to use funny people” is the same bullshit justification used to give countless white dudes jobs over other women and people over color. Hearing it from someone on “our side” is incredibly disheartening.

Anyway, sheesh, I’ve already spilt 700 words on my complicated feelings about The Mindy Project, without even delving into such issues as that time it depicted a woman raping a dude as NBD. What I INTENDED to focus on here was one of the specific things I love about The Mindy Project that helps make up for all this stuff in the minus column, and that is Mindy Lahiri’s body image.

Mindy's answer to Varsity Blues — Mindy’s answer to Varsity Blues

Mindy Lahiri knows she’s hot, she’s comfortable saying it (“bet you didn’t think with this bod that I had brains too, and pretty good boobs”), and she takes it as a given that others generally agree. When Mindy slaps a stranger in a case of mistaken identity, she regrets it not because he was innocent, but because he’s a European immigrant, and “he’s gonna go back to his country and say ‘In America, hot girls can do whatever they want.’ That’s a bad message, Danny!”

The importance of Mindy categorizing herself as a “hot girl” is that it means all the times she says her ass won’t quit isn’t just her blowing smoke to cover up her insecurity over her body. Furthermore, the other characters on the show generally DO agree. There have been a few gross jabs at Mindy for her weight, especially in the earlier episodes (Danny tells her in the pilot she should lose 15 pounds if she wants to look nice on a date, and in a later episode gives her the side eye when she [falsely] claims to do the elliptical four times a week), but there have been a parade of hot dudes (including Danny, the Ross to her Rachel!) who want “up in them guts.” In the same episode Mindy declares, “I’m a hot, smart woman with an ass that doesn’t quit,” Morgan describes her as “The Indian doctor whose ass won’t quit?” It’s not a joke that Mindy thinks she’s hot, even if some of the ways she expresses that belief are funny.

"I'm not overweight, I fluctuate between chubby and curvy." — “I’m not overweight, I fluctuate between chubby and curvy.”

Mindy Lahiri isn’t entirely devoid of body insecurity, though. She insists she’s chubby and NOT “overweight.” She has developed a series of “illusions and tricks” to have sex without her partner seeing her naked. She goes through diet and exercise phases to lose weight because she’s “sick of being the person with a good personality.” Which is why Mindy’s body confidence reminds me of selfies, and how they’re simultaneously derided for being an expression of insecurity (what are you trying to hide with that lo-fi filter?) and overconfidence (why do you think we care to see your face again, even if you’ve perfectly executed the cat-eye look?). The truth about being a woman in the patriarchy is that regardless of your closeness to the impossible ideal, you’ll probably feel hot as eff some of the time, completely hideous other times. The Mindy Project captures that perfectly.

Unfortunately, because all the other women on the show are such minor characters, this message all rests on one character and one body: Mindy’s. And one woman who isn’t a skinny white chick is still just one woman.

Robin Hitchcock is an American writer living in Cape Town.

‘Super Fun Night’ Postmortem

ABC announced late last week that ‘Super Fun Night,’ Rebel Wilson’s half-hour comedy about being supremely uncool, was getting the axe. After 17 very strange episodes, it’s time to look back and figure out what went wrong (and right) with this offbeat series.

Written by Katherine Murray.

ABC announced late last week that Super Fun Night, Rebel Wilson’s half-hour comedy about being supremely uncool, was getting the axe. After 17 very strange episodes, it’s time to look back and figure out what went wrong (and right) with this offbeat series.

Super Fun Night is/was a sitcom produced by Conan O’Brien, starring the hilarious Rebel Wilson as Kimmie, an awkward, uncool lawyer who lives with her awkward, uncool friends, while pining after her handsome, unattainable co-worker, Richard. It’s significant that Kimmie lives with her high school friends, since the defining question of the series is whether or not being cool is the prerequisite to having a satisfying life.

Kimmie, who would like to think of herself as being a little bit cool, drags her friends into misadventure by taking them out of the apartment and into the city on various outings they call “super fun night.” Also, she works in an office and stuff.

The show includes a strange mishmash of singing, and jokes, and serious after-school-special moments about accepting yourself. At times, it tantalizes you with the idea that it might actually be good, only to let you down in the following episode. There were lots of things to like and dislike about it, but I enjoy finding fault with other people’s work, so let’s start with the stuff that went wrong.

The Stuff that was Wrong

● The American Accent
Rebel Wilson is Australian; her character is not. That is a mistake of huge proportions, mainly for the reason that a lot of Wilson’s comedy comes less from what she’s saying, and more from the specific way she says it. For some unknown reason, Kimmie is American, and you can hear Wilson struggling with the accent during the first few episodes. It flattens her delivery and makes it hard for her to use the right inflection to carry off a joke.

Wilson has explained that the decision sprang partly from the fact that Kimmie is supposed to have gone to school in America, but, if the character had moved from Australia as a teen, I doubt anyone would have cried foul.

● The Law Firm
Kimmie is a lawyer in the way that children imagine people are lawyers – she’s vaguely in an office setting, wearing a suit, doing legal-sounding things. Her job bears absolutely no importance to the story, and yet the show insists on following her to work, where her career and her coworkers are drawn in very broad strokes, and not nearly as entertaining as the rest of the show.

It seems from the title, and the pilot (which aired as the eighth episode), that the real meat of the story is Kimmie’s interaction with her friends, Helen-Alice and Marika, who are also the funniest and most specific characters. It would have been easy to structure the show so that each episode was focussed on whatever Kimmie and her friends achieved on “super fun night,” and it’s surprising that so much screen time is instead given to Kimmie moving papers around at an imaginary job.

The only interesting fact about the law firm is that, between two Australian actors and one Englishman, nobody who works there is American. I’m pretty sure Matt Lucas even showed up in the elevator. As a citizen of the Commonwealth, I’m pleased that our invasion is proceeding according to plan.

● The Woman With No Personality
It’s clear that the series did not know what to do with Kimmie’s arch nemesis, Kendall. She’s the shallowest character, and the role was changed and re-cast after the pilot (some of the official websites still show a photo of the original actress, because that’s the level of support this show got on the ground).

The problem with Kendall is that she isn’t a person. She’s the most archetypical character on the show – a projection of what we imagine pretty, successful career women must be like (confident, lovelorn, a little bit mean), lacking in the little quirks and details that make the other characters seem human. Even after the writers flip the script and try to make Kendall into Kimmie’s friend, we never get a sense of who she is, beyond how she makes Kimmie feel awkward and slovenly by comparison. It drags down the law firm scenes even more.

● The Tinkley Piano Music
This is not actually a complaint about the music (though the music numbers were weird). It’s a complaint about the Very Special Moments the series had where the characters Learned A Lesson or otherwise expressed their innermost emotions in an entirely serious way. Kimmie is a virgin! Marika is a lesbian! Both of them were really unpopular in school!

Super Fun Night tries really hard to be sensitive to all of these things (and more – so many more) by not laughing at the characters, or shaming them for their experiences. That’s awesome, but, given that this is a comedy, it would also have been nice if the writers had found a way of laughing with the characters instead, so that at least there could be laughter.

In spite of these issues, though, I confess that part of me was pulling for this series to succeed. And that’s because of the stuff that went right.

The Stuff that was Right

● Kimmie’s Relationship with James
After Kendall and Richard start dating, they set Kimmie up with one of Richard’s friends. Kimmie spends the week fantasizing about what kind of suave, handsome, Richard-like man they’ve selected, only to find out it’s James, a goofy fat guy, who seems kind of loud.

Kimmie’s first reaction is to feel insulted that this is who Richard and Kendall imagine her with, but, once she gets to know James, it turns out she likes him a lot. She realizes, in a fairly understated way, that even though she’s used to being dismissed because of the way she looks and the awkward first impression she makes, she made the same mistake with James. It’s a nice, self-aware moment in which the audience takes the same journey as Kimmie – James is presented in such a way that we’re encouraged to find him disappointing (and to think that the joke is going to be “look what an awful blind date this is”) before the situation reverses, and we realize that he’s really an OK guy.

The series also ends on a really strong note, in terms of the Richard-Kimmie-James love triangle. Richard and Kimmie have always been friends – they share some of the same interests, and dork-out to the same kinds of things – but, once Kimmie starts dating James, Richard suddenly decides that he’s in love with her. He makes his feelings known during the final episodes of the series, right before he gets on a plane to leave the country and start a new job. Now that Kimmie finally has the chance to be with the man she’s been dreaming about, she frantically runs to the airport to tell him… that she thinks he’ll do really well at his new job and she wishes him the best.

Kimmie makes the mature choice of staying with James, the guy she’s actually built a relationship with, rather than chasing after Richard and the idealized romance she had with him in her mind. In real life, this may be what most sensible people would do, but, in TV land, this is the sitcom equivalent of “Ned Stark dies.” It completely reverses our expectations about how the story is going to play out, and shows that the writers are doing something insightful and intelligent with the genre. If I was going to identify a single reason why Super Fun Night deserved to exist, it would be that scene at the airport.

● Actual Lesbians (Not Just Lesbian Jokes)
One of the running jokes in the series is that everyone except Marika thinks that Marika is gay. The reasons for this mostly rely on stereotypes like the way she dresses, her love of sports, and the coffee table she built out of salvaged railway ties, but Marika also shows an obvious interest in other women, and an obviously fake-sounding interest in dudes, making her denial seem absurd.

Even if it’s a little heavy-handed (or a lot heavy-handed) it’s nice that Marika’s story line actually finishes out with her finding an awesome new girlfriend and accepting herself as she is (which means that the “LOL @ your lesbian coffee table” jokes also end). If you’re going to joke about your characters being gay, you earn it a little bit more if you’re willing to follow through by actually making your characters gay.

● It’s Totally Fine to Act Like a Dork
The thing that really set the series apart and made it seem special was this: the main characters, who are supposed to be kind of uncool, are actually kind of uncool. This isn’t a thing where they’re just wearing glasses (though one of them is wearing glasses). It’s a thing where their ideal Friday night involves cookies and DVD sets, and they keep fantasy figurines on their desks, and they have anxiety attacks about riding the subway, and they congratulate themselves for daringly eating papaya.

Most of the funniest jokes on the show are about this – which is why most of the funniest parts of the show involve Kimmie’s friends rather than her coworkers – but there’s no suggestion that the characters need to fundamentally change who they are in order to be cooler people. At the end of the pilot episode, they manage to agree that they will “sometimes” leave the apartment to venture outside, and that’s about as far as the concessions go.

It isn’t a novel idea that being a geek, nerd, or dork can be fine, but most of the celebrated characters within that niche are men. Comparatively, it’s much more rare to see a story about female geeks, nerds, and dorks, where they aren’t asked to change in some way, or to start dressing better, in order to prove they have worth. It’s rare to see a geek girl who isn’t also (secretly) a hot girl, and, as annoying as the Tinkley Piano Music moments are, it’s nice to see the characters confess insecurities that many women have without being punished for it.

There were a lot of problems with Super Fun Night – including the fact that it wasn’t consistently funny – but the core idea behind it was something important. It introduced geeky, nerdy, dorky female characters that women could relate to, and it inverted the legacy of 80s and 90s movies (which taught us that only cool people can date and have fun, therefore we should learn to be cool), by telling us that uncool people can still lead full lives and have self-esteem.

I’m not surprised that the series was cancelled, but I think it brought something of value, and, even after all the singing and the touching introspection at the law firm, I’m not really sorry I watched it. I would like a magic do-over where someone strengthened the content a little bit more before this went to air, but the feeling behind it was noble.

Katherine Murray is a Toronto-based writer who yells about movies and TV on her blog.

‘Broad City’: Hilarious, Lazy Girls at the Party

‘Broad City,’ which first appeared as a web series in 2009, shows us two women who lack ambition in a way that is almost radical—if only because we rarely see women acting irresponsibly without being punished for it.

Let me first make it clear that the title of this post is intended as a celebration of two things: 1) Amy Poehler, who, in addition to being a brilliant comedy writer, performer, and founder of Smart Girls at the Party, is the executive producer of the new Comedy Central series Broad City and 2) That we finally have some representations of funny women on TV who get to be every bit as guiltlessly unmotivated as their male counterparts. The characters that Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer created and depict are silly, charming, and always have each other’s backs—no matter how absurd or ill-advised the scenario. On its face you might think that another show about best friends in their 20s living in Brooklyn and Queens will cover familiar territory, thanks to Girls. You would be wrong. Most of the women in Lena Dunham’s world are not unlike some of our other (beloved!) women characters like Leslie Knope, Liz Lemon, and Mindy Lahiri in that they are wrestling with personal and professional issues that can often be traced to the anxiety inherited by women over whether they can “have it all.” Sure, Hannah Horvath might be lazy at times, but she is nothing if not driven by ambition to establish herself as a writer. Broad City, which first appeared as a web series in 2009, shows us two women who lack ambition in a way that is almost radical—if only because we rarely see women acting irresponsibly without being punished for it.

I say “punished” because Abbi and Ilana get away with a lot on Broad City, and we get to enjoy the thrills of their bad decisions and improbably mild consequences. In the first episode, we see Ilana sitting bored at her job, where she makes it clear to her boss that since the paychecks are delayed, she has no intention of staying to work. However, she does have her sights set on one particular goal: to make enough money for a night out for her and Abbi to go to Lil’ Wayne show (she also plans to seduce him). Her hope is to raise $200—for tickets, drinks, and weed—and she needs to convince her best friend to blow off her custodial job at a gym to help execute her plan. Abbi is the less reckless of the two (she tells Ilana that she’s might not be up for the show that because she’s “really excited about a cashew stir fry” she made for the week), but willingly capitulates to her best friend’s scheming (as she does throughout the series).

Their first attempt to earn money takes the form of bucket drumming in Central Park, where their only fan is Ilana’s friend-with-benefit Lincoln, played by Hannibal Buress (one the best stand-up comics working today). When busking proves fruitless, Abbi and Ilana must resort to Plan B: cleaning creepy Fred Armisen’s apartment in their underwear while he luridly gazes upon them from behind drapes. Did I mention that he’s also wearing footie pajamas? This scene is brilliant physical comedy, and refreshingly turns what could be humiliating into something aggressively funny. Without spoiling too much of the rest of the episode, let’s just say that Ilana and Abbi end up back where they started: video-chatting with each other as they nurse hangovers.

In addition to being great writers, Jacobson and Glazer are a delight to watch, (as is both the supporting cast and cameos performances Rachel Dratch and Janeane Garofalo). Abbi and Ilana’s is a female friendship in which both women enable and affirm the other even as they make ridiculous choices—which is what friends are for.

‘9 to 5’: Still a Fantasy

“Hey we’ve come this far, haven’t we? This is just the beginning.”

“The beginning” was in 1980, when this feminist comedy classic was released. Dolly Parton belted out the title song, which features a “boss man” who is “out to get her”–it’s an uplifting song, though, that echoes the closing celebratory sentiment: this is just the beginning. Things are going to change.

Well how have we done in 34 years?

Written by Leigh Kolb as part of our theme week on Women and Work/Labor Issues.

“That equal pay thing–that’s got to go.”

At the end of 9 to 5, the Chairman of the Board comes to visit Mr. Hart to congratulate him on his division’s success. He applauds the creative workplace choices that upped productivity by 20 percent. Job sharing policies allowed people to work part time, and an on-site day care, flex time, and equal pay boosted morale and created a “splendid environment,” according to the Chairman. But the equal pay? He whispers to Hart that that has to go.

In reality, Violet (Lily Tomlin), Judy (Jane Fonda), and Doralee (Dolly Parton)–three of Hart’s employees who waged war on him, their “sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical, bigot” boss–were the ones who made the changes in the workplace.

Hart is promoted to a job overseas, and the power trio take their place in his office, toasting their success (in both the workplace and in getting rid of Hart) with champagne.

Judy and Doralee express concern over the lack of equal salary policies, but Violet interjects:

“Hey we’ve come this far, haven’t we? This is just the beginning.”

The beginning was in 1980, when this feminist comedy classic was released. Dolly Parton belted out the title song, which features a “boss man” who is “out to get her”–it’s an uplifting song, though, that echoes the closing celebratory sentiment: this is just the beginning. Things are going to change.

Well how have we done in 34 years? While President Obama signed the Lily Ledbetter Act in 2009, the National Women’s Law Center reports that “American women who work full-time, year-round are paid only 77 cents for every dollar paid to their male counterparts.” Roughly half of employers offer flextime and only about a third of the “best companies to work for” offer child care, even though these policies–as shown in 9 to 5–can increase productivity, profit, and worker morale.

Of course, these policies are typically only available to professional workers at large companies. For working class women, the situation is more dire, and the fighting is up a steeper hill. Domestic workers, retail workers, home care workers, and restaurant workers are fighting hard and “leaning in” (without rich white women telling them to), but the fight is still necessary.

The House and the Senate are gridlocked over raising the federal minimum wage. Of workers who earn minimum wage, two-thirds are women.

That beginning sure has lasted a long time, Violet.

While the fact that 9 to 5 is still so timely is depressing, there’s much to celebrate in this female buddy comedy. For a comedy, the women are complex and well-written, embodying female stereotypes without becoming stereotypes (and at times dismantling them). They work hard, they play hard (what a great scene, when Doralee, Violet, and Judy are drinking and getting stoned), and they get into a bunch of trouble, but they win in the end.

Meanwhile, commentary on misogynist bosses, anti-family workplaces, patriarchy, and sexism and harassment in the workplace is woven throughout the film.

When they get high, the women have separate revenge fantasies about how they would murder Hart. Violet’s is accompanied by animated birds and woodland creatures, and she, Doralee, and Judy end victorious–in princess costumes waving atop their castle, addressing their adoring subjects who they’ve freed from the oppressive (“sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical, bigot”) reign of Franklin Hart. They rewrite the princess narrative something fierce.

And how are we doing, in terms of women and comedy blockbusters, 34 years later?

As Bitch Media pointed out in an article about great female buddy comedies:

“‘Who knew a bunch of ladies could create comedy gold?’ was a common refrain when Bridesmaids first came out. The answer? Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask the millions of moviegoers who made 9 to 5—the 20th-highest-grossing comedy ever?”

It’s a fun comedy that has stood the test of time–which again, is also pretty depressing. What also strikes audiences is how completely female-centric the comedy is, and how much it works. We can imagine for once what it must feel like to watch a film that examines women’s lives and only has one featured male character–who is an (all too realistic) caricature. I can’t speak for male viewers, but I imagine the experience of viewing a film like this is quite similar to what women audiences are faced with constantly. Unfortunately, comedies with women and women’s stories at the helm are still as rare as on-site daycare.

Rewatching this 1980 classic reminds us that women’s lives are complex and have the potential to be made into blockbusters. We’re also reminded that in regard to women in the workplace, we stil have a long way to go. Violet was right–this was just the beginning. Why does the happy ending seem so far away?

If you want a fun, sexist blast from the past, read this New York Times film review of 9 to 5. Workplace policies may not have changed enough since 1980, but I’d like to think that the feminist blogosphere would have eviscerated a review like that. Progress.

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

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Check out what we’ve been reading this week–and let us know what you’ve been reading/writing in the comments!

Why Ellen Page Coming Out Matters In Hollywood by Dorothy Pomerantz at Forbes

Review: PBS’ ‘Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth’ honors a singular life by Mary McNamara at the Los Angeles Times

Five Reasons You Should Be Watching Comedy Central’s “Broad City” by Andi Zeisler at Bitch Media

BBC chief: no more comedy shows with all-male panels by Vanessa Thorpe at The Guardian

Real Talk on the Women of True Detective by Alyssa Rosenberg at Women and Hollywood

Talking ‘Women in Horror Month’ With Nobody Can Cool’s DPYX at Daily Grindhouse

‘About Last Night’ Writer on Reimagining Movie for a Black Cast (Guest Column) by Leslye Headland at The Hollywood Reporter

Beyond the Bechdel Test: Why It’s Not Enough by Tomris Laffly at Indiewire

UCLA Releases Scathing Report on Diversity in Film and TV by Melissa Silverstein at Women and Hollywood

Will Ferrell Launches Female-Focused Film and TV Production Company by Tatiana Siegel at The Hollywood Reporter

It Should Be Called ‘The Real Homophobes of Atlanta’ by Clay Cane at The Root

Greta Gerwig Starring on a CBS Sitcom is Great News by Margaret Lyons at Vulture

Here Are All the Different Genders You Can Be on Facebook by Will Oremus at Slate

Rewrite the Story by The Representation Project on YouTube

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

‘Girls’ Season 3: Recap and Roundup

There’s been some uproar, some talk, some criticism, and a lot of excitement about the return of ‘Girls.’ Lena Dunham’s insanely successful show (which for a show about a unsuccessful 20-something girl, strangely leaves me feeling even more unsuccessful as a 20-something girl who doesn’t have my own HBO show), while receiving fairly universal acclaim, has also been the recipient of some harsh criticism: where is the show’s diversity? And why is Dunham always naked?

Written by Rachel Redfern

*Spoiler Alert

[youtube_sc url=”http://youtu.be/wnU13ZHxjGk”]

There’s been some uproar, some talk, some criticism, and a lot of excitement about the return of Girls. Lena Dunham’s insanely successful show (which for a show about a unsuccessful 20-something girl, strangely leaves me feeling even more unsuccessful as a 20-something girl who doesn’t have my own HBO show), while receiving fairly universal acclaim, has also been the recipient of some harsh criticism: where is the show’s diversity? And why is Dunham always naked?

To be fair, both are valuable observations of the darkly comedic show; if you’re going to spend a lot of time naked on screen, what are the reasons? And, for a show about the millennial experience in New York City, why does the show only have white people?

First, for the commentators on the amount of nudity in Girls, I disagree; Dunham’s instances of sex (much like Masters of Sex) appear as way to further the character development, rather than give the audience “sexy times.” Jessa going down on another woman in the second episode, “Truth or Dare,” didn’t feel pandering or exploiting like most “girl on girl” sex scenes are; instead, if felt like an exposure of Jessa using sexuality, along with another person, in order to fulfill her own interest. Or as the Los Angeles Times said, “Dunham is forcing us to reconsider what bodies we value and why. It isn’t just nudity. It’s revolutionary.”

Second, there have been a lot of shows about white women in New York City, so yes, I think it’s time for change. Hopefully in the near future HBO and other prominent networks will expand into more varied character territory. Also, I think Dunham’s been fairly aware of the criticism leveled at the popular show and in her words, “We need to talk about diversifying the world of television. We are trying to continue to do it in ways that are genuine, natural, intelligent, but we heard all of that and really felt it deeply.” I feel it’s too Dunham’s credit as a writer that she “diversify” Girls in a way that flows naturally from the story.

More importantly though, Jessica Williams of The Daily Show glory will have a few spots in Girls season 3 (there’s no way this can turn out badly), and had some amazing thoughts on the situation: “It’s her art and it’s her voice. It’s not her responsibility to write from my experience.” I suggest you read it for yourself, since she says it so much better than I ever could.

nepotism girls — “A little nepotiz” noticed by internet meme people.

There’s also been that nepotism controversy with Dunham, which could be true, but oh well. So Dunham made a TV show with her friends, does it make it any less well-done? Are the children of famous people destined to live a life away from ambition just because their parents were famous? No, (but to be fair, let’s be honest, the saying “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know” is a thing for a reason).

Now, on to the show.

Girls has a more sitcom feeling this year, moving past a lot of the darkness that characterized season two: Hannah’s OCD behavior, Marnie’s failure at everything, and Jessa’s inexplicable disappearance. Season three wraps all those issues up nicely and quickly picks the show up and runs along (though whether a good choice to keep the show moving, or losing key plot and character moments remains to be seen).

Surprisingly, Adam and Hannah’s relationship seems to have mellowed and Adam is by turns deeply disturbing and charming, though more charming than disturbing; which is good since I found his odd rape references in season one really problematic.

But the first few episodes raise some good questions for the audience: what seem to be the most prominent themes of season three? Jessa’s storyline seems to have been built up this year, which I hope for more of as Jessa’s bluntness is, hands down, one of the best things on the show.

As to Marnie, will she find her way out of the wilderness? I especially liked the quick scene of Marnie waiting for the bus in the ‘burbs, a quick moment to show us the alienation that she feels from the city and her former life.

Also, since when was Adam a love guru? Giving impossibly bad advice about making immediate connections with people and “Just knowing that they’re right for you” seems a little off, cause, you know, love at first sight and overwhelming feelings of immediate love were never a bad idea.

One thing to note this season though, is how Dunham has changed as a director. Three years of experience in directing with a first-rate network (HBO) have obviously enhanced the ways that she’s expressing scenes. Dunham and the Girls crew seem much more willing to invest in longer shots and monologue, interjected with quicker moments of character exposition, i.e.: Marnie waiting for the bus, Jessa on her older friend’s bed with a disarmingly sincere smile, Hannah curled up in the leaves listening to This American Life.

Everyone is either bored or geekin' out. Sort of like real life. — Everyone is either bored or geekin’ out. Sort of like real life.

This season seem to be picking up quickly in the arena of gender commentary, most notably in the way that women interact with each other, and the way that women are seen as interacting with each other. Early on Adam voices his opinion on how women behave, saying, “Women get stuck in this vortex of guilt and jealousy with each other that keep them from seeing situations clearly.”

Also, Amy Schumer was there with a weird bit about pregnancy that was terrifying, awkward, hilarious, and probably everything you’ve ever wanted to say to an ex.

Unexpectedly, people seem to be over the Marnie storyline and are instead focusing on Shoshanna, a character viewed as sort of trivial, but who is growing up and into herself by exploring her sexuality after losing her virginity (raise your hand if you’ve been there), while also juggling school and remaining inordinately optimistic about her post-graduation options (oh my god, it’s me).

I can’t wait to see Shoshanna next season when she’s looking for a job.

But, hands down, the best line of the two-episode premier, proving that the show has a few laughs ahead, comes from the indomitable Hannah Horvath: “This rocking chair is so pointed it’s just not giving me any room to express myself.”

Yes Hannah, me too.

See also at Bitch Flicks: Let’s All Take a Deep Breath and Calm the Fuck Down About Lena Dunham, by Stephanie Rogers

Seed & Spark: Gettin’ Physical

There is an empowerment to seeing women use their bodies to intently serve their character’s purpose. There is honest recognition of the female form in all of its glory and trust in the actress, director, or writer to create that honesty. There is also a young little lady, up way past her bedtime, copying your every move as you high-kick your way into Saturday night.

Mary Katherine Gallagher as — Molly Shannon on *SNL* as Mary Katherine Gallagher

This is a guest post by Jessie Jolles and Tracy Soren.

When Molly Shannon threw herself into a pile of chairs as Mary Katherine Gallagher on Saturday Night Live, funny girls whose parents let them stay up past 11:30 p.m. were, from that point on, changed. Cheri Oteri as a Spartan Cheerleader, kicking her legs up high during an uncomfortable routine, or Ana Gasteyer, stiff but still dancing as Bobbi Moughan-Culp, one part of the trying-to-be-hip-music teacher duo, were telling us our bodies are for us.

Cheri Oteri as a Spartan Cheerleader (video)

As women, we are told we are meek and frail; we should be smaller, thinner, and able to fit in a spoonful of sugar so a man can put us in his coffee and swallow us down. There’s nothing new here that we are saying. I believe there’s an Upworthy post on your Facebook that’s exhibiting the notion right now (as they should be!). How many times have you watched a film or TV show where the woman is in some well-shaven, acrobatic position for the male gaze. So for us, Jessie Jolles and Tracy Soren, comedians and creators of the web series, DIBS, we enjoy nothing more than a woman allowing herself to transform her body for the sake of a well-earned laugh.

We should point out that we met in an improv class at the Upright Citizens Brigade and were improvisers before we decided to create something on camera. We are now on all-lady improv team named Gulf Oil, kickin’ ass, takin’ names, getting suggestions. This past weekend, we had a show where Tracy ended up with a bruised knee and Jessie actually flew across the stage in an all out physical improv fight. We had a blast! There is something very interesting that happens though when you are a woman very physical in your comedy… the audience becomes your collective mother. They are laughing BECAUSE WE ARE FUNNY (right?!) sure, but there is also a gasp of breath as if our lady bodies will disintegrate into Tinkerbell’s fairy dust. It is sometimes a shock to them when we get down and dirty on a down and dirty theatre floor in the East Village. We are guilty of this reaction too, I’m sure. I mean, boobs hurt when they are sliding across the ground but in improv, you can’t think, you just do. And that’s how we want to see filmmakers treat ladies when they are making funnies or not. Because the question really is: what would the character’s body actually do in this moment?

Tracy and Jesse “being physical” on the set of DIBS

Now that we are writing and preparing for the Season 2 of DIBS, we know the characters Joey and Emily deeply and we are excited to use the entire range of our physical comedy to get the laugh. But this doesn’t only apply to comedy of course. We want to see filmmakers and content creators let female actresses and female characters use their true range. Indie films and content respond to this more so then mainstream media (again, nothing new here). Imagine what it takes to decide you want to be an actress or a creator and go for your dream; the skin is already tough, we don’t need our character to be one-dimensional in their physical abilities. Of course, if the character calls for a delicateness then I’m sure the actress playing her can master delicate. But we women can take it! Molly Shannon threw herself into a bunch of fold-out chairs, than she made a movie doing it. Trust us to know our abilities.

The physicality of women cannot be spoken about without the sexualization and oppression of women’s bodies in media which is of course cyclical. They tell us our bodies are supposed to look like x (x can be thin, hairless, light-skinned, small, etc…). We think our bodies are supposed look one way so we then make our bodies look like that and people go, ah yes, that’s what women look like or what women want to look like so we will put out another film/ad/show/beer bottle representing women as x. So then our female characters are widely represented as x. But then there’s that special moment when we see Maya Rudolph shit her pants in a wedding dress on the street in Bridesmaids and it’s amazing, hysterical, and women go “See! That’s what America needs!”

There is an empowerment to seeing women use their bodies to serve intently serve their character’s purpose. There is honest recognition of the female form in all of its glory and trust in the actress, director, or writer to create that honesty. There is also a young little lady, up way past her bedtime, copying your every move as you high-kick your way into Saturday night. So audiences, filmmakers, friends, families, dentists, healthcare workers, Bugs Bunny, let’s let women get down already. We promise, you’ll laugh.

Jessie Jolles and Tracy Soren make up the comedic duo, Soren & Jolles. They are in pre-production for the second season of their web series DIBS and are crowdfunding here on Seed & Spark! They both study at the Upright Citizens Brigade and are on a wonderful improv team, Gulf Oil.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Check out what we’ve been reading this week–and let us know what you’ve been reading/writing in the comments!

The American media has no idea how to talk about race on-screen by Sydette Harry at Salon

‘How The Media Failed Women In 2013’ Is One Video You Need To Watch This Year at Huffington Post

Gender Inequality in Film Infographic at New York Film Academy

The Feministing Five: Sunny Clifford by Suzanna at Feministing

Amy Adams and Claire Danes Talk Feminism and Women in Hollywood by Kate Dries at Jezebel

Finally, Filmmakers Tell the Forgotten History of Seattle DIY Self-Defense Group Home Alive by Laina Dawes at Bitch Media

What Really Makes Katniss Stand Out? Peeta, Her Movie Girlfriend by Linda Holmes at NPR

Gal Gadot is History’s First Movie Wonder Woman by Susana Polo at The Mary Sue

Evan Rachel Wood Tells The MPAA “Women Don’t Just Have To Be Fucked” by Beejoli Shah on Defamer

Heroines at the Box Office by the Editorial Board at The New York Times

Popaganda Episode: Funny Business by Sarah Mirk at Bitch Media

Tina Fey & Amy Poehler’s First Promo For The Golden Globes Is Here! by Jessica Wakeman at The Frisky

‘Dear White People’ and ‘Drunktown’s Finest’ to Screen at Sundance by Jamilah King at Colorlines

Where Are All the Female Filmmakers? by Gary Susman at Rolling Stone

On The Subject of White Moviegoers and Black Film by ReBecca Theodore-Vachon at Film Fatale NYC

How Nelson Mandela Affected South Africa’s Film Industry by Georg Szalai at The Hollywood Reporter

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

Older Women Week: Funniest After 50: Four Comediennes to Love Forever

Betty White, Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, and Helen Mirren… At first, when writing this article, I thought about pointing out the ways in which Hollywood has shorted these prolific and amazing actresses, and while I’m sure that’s happened to them at some point in their careers, in reading about their lives, I realized that would almost be a disservice to all that they’ve accomplished. Rather, this piece is meant as a tribute to these enduring female comediennes, who have not only flourished but also paved the way for so many other actresses and actors.

Written By Rachel Redfern

The always hilarious Betty White

When thinking about female comediennes, we often consider the hilarity of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, Sarah Silverman, Ellen Degeneres and Mindy Kaling (plus many more); however, rarely do we think about those funny women who helped to pioneer women in comedy, and who manage to stay current today. Even more than that, do we ever think about actresses over the age of 80 who are still out there, busting sides and helping to expand the boundaries of cinema? Four people who are doing just that? Betty White, Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, and Helen Mirren. These women have managed to retain a certain appeal and charisma, keeping them current and having a substantial effect on popular culture.

But what roles are they playing? Are they merely fulfilling our stereotypes of older women? It is common knowledge that most female actresses are given a narrow width of roles once they top the age of 45, the focus at that point aiming more towards how well they aged and can they convincingly play Scarlett Johansson’s mother?

At first, when writing this article, I thought about pointing out the ways in which Hollywood has shorted these prolific and amazing actresses, and while I’m sure that’s happened to them at some point in their careers, in reading about their lives, I realized that would almost be a disservice to all that they’ve accomplished. Rather, this piece is meant as a tribute to these enduring female comediennes, who have not only flourished but also paved the way for so many other actresses and actors.

Betty White (1922)

While Betty White has had a career in show business for most of her life, White was most known for her role on Golden Girls over twenty years ago, a role in which she was spunky and hilarious. But the steam generated by that show built her up until suddenly, ten years ago when she started guest starring on dozens of shows, won seven Emmys, become the oldest person to ever host Saturday Night Live, and even had a spot on a major super bowl ad.

But why? What’s so enduring and endearing about her? Is the fact that White, born in 1922 (she is now 91 years old) retains a youth and vitality that is staggering? Is it the comedic roles she easily slips into as a lovable and sassy grandmother? At first, when considering the usual roles that she plays I wondered, is White fulfilling a wishful stereotype for audiences (that of a hilarious, raunchy, older woman) without playing more dramatic roles or portraying realistic situations for the elderly?

But in my consideration of her career, I changed my perspective; Betty White is a comedienne and has been for most of her career. The fact that she’s still entertaining and embracing offbeat comedic roles, and even hosting her own prank show called Betty White’s Off Their Rockers, is actually one of the best tribute to funny women everywhere.

Maggie Smith (1934)

You’ve watched Harry Potter, and probably Downton Abbey, so you know who she is, but Smith has been a prominent actress since 1952, although she started her career in the theater. However, I didn’t necessarily consider Smith a comedic actress until actually taking a closer look into her expansive and productive bibliography. Since 1956, Smith has been recognized as both a powerful dramatic actor (becoming a member of the Royal National Theater in the 1960’s, nominated for an Oscar only a few years later for her role as Desdemona in Othello) and as a woman of great comedic timing and talent.

Consider her acerbic wit and hilarious disdain as the Dowager Countess in Downton Abbey, the prim nun in Sister Act, and a lovely, elderly Wendy in Hook. The unfortunate moment in all of this research is the realization that most people of my generation have tasted only the barest sample of Maggie Smith’s range, especially in regard to her comedic abilities.

Judi Dench (1934)

We don’t always consider Judi Dench as a comedic actress, because well, let’s face it, she’s a drama powerhouse. Elegant, confident, she displays all the characteristics of a self-assured woman of grace and intelligence, both off- and on-screen. However, similar to Smith, Dench was also a fixture of the England theater scene for many years, being a member of the Royal Shakespeare company, and it was there, that she gained prominence for both her drama and comedy work, once being cited as the greatest comedic actress in all of England.

In 1981 she starred in the critically acclaimed British romantic sitcom, A Fine Romance, with her husband, Michael Williams, but it’s her more current work as M in the James Bond series that I find interesting. Her performance has been acclaimed for its combination of British sarcasm and competent, cold leadership.

Besides that, she’s hilarious in private life, once stating that since Harvey Wienstein helped to further her career that she had his name “tattooed on my bum ever since.”

Helen Mirren (1945)

Helen Mirren has retained a sexiness and a dynamic appeal, which she happily carries with her as she enters her seventies. I love that. While it’s true that too much emphasis is placed on the physical beauty of the women in Hollywood, Mirren’s draw comes from more than just her good looks. She’s always been known for her sensuality and for the heat and intensity she could bring to a film or theater production.

Like Judi Dench, Mirren was also a member of the Royal Shakespeare Company in her youth who then moved onto fame for ability to portray British royalty, having played three queens so far: Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Elizabeth II, and Queen Charlotte. Yet, while most of her substantial theater experience was in drama and displaying “sensuality” and “sexual allure,” in film and television, she’s become a recognizable comedic personality.

Her roles in Calendar Girls, the dark-comedy and action thrillers Red and Red II, countless television interviews and even, a night spent hosting Saturday Night Live in 2011 have solidified Mirren as a sultry and mischievous comedienne. (Click here to see Helen Mirren and Billy Crystal consider a remake of When Harry Met Sally and here to see a fabulous video of Mirren talking about women in Hollywood and the “worship of the young male and his penis.”)

I find that combination fabulous, and in many ways groundbreaking; Mirren has managed to successfully embrace her famous sexuality and incorporate it into her own unique style of slapstick, confident comedy.

The brilliance in examining the comedic range of these four women is that all have developed a unique style and are at ease with their age. They don’t take themselves too seriously, and because of their resilience, diligence, hard work, and talent, (in a notoriously competitive and unfriendly-to-women-environment) they embody the best of women in Hollywood—stalwart performers whose years of experience is outstanding and mind-boggling.

What are some other actresses that have successfully retained their comedic abilities as they’ve entered their golden years?

Rachel Redfern has an MA in English literature, where she conducted research on modern American literature and film and its intersection, however she spends most of her time watching HBO shows, traveling, and blogging and reading about feminism.

Older Women Week: ‘The First Wives Club’: "Don’t Get Mad. Get Everything."

Film poster for The First Wives Club

This is a guest post by Jen Thorpe.

The First Wives Club is the story of four women who became friends with each other when they were in college. After graduation, the friends ended up drifting apart. This is a situation that happens to a lot of women. Life gets in the way.

People get married, have children, and (hopefully) find “real jobs.” It becomes increasingly difficult to find the time (or the energy) to socialize with friends who are no longer a part of our day-to-day lives. When you are in your 20s, you truly believe that you will be best friends forever. You intend to stay connected. Years later, you wonder whatever happened to those friends (whom you haven’t heard from in years).

In the movie, three of the friends reunite after learning that the fourth friend, Cynthia Swann Griffin (played by Stockard Channing) died by suicide after her husband divorced her. The surviving friends are now in their mid-forties. Each one is either divorced or is going through the process of divorce.

The movie does a good job of picking up on some of the thoughts that women who are 40 or over struggle with. Elise Elliot (played by Goldie Hawn) is overly concerned about aging. There is a scene where she begs her plastic surgeon to make her lips fuller (again). He resists, reminding her of all the plastic surgery she has already undergone and pointing out that she is beautiful.

Elise looking for wrinkles at the plastic surgeon’s office

Not every woman over 40 is going to turn to plastic surgery as a “fountain of youth.” Elise chose it because she is an actress who is having difficulty finding work. Suddenly (or so it seems to Elise) she is only being offered the role of “the mother.” For her, aging essentially means that she will no longer have a career. Elise is the perfect example of what really does happen to actresses once they turn 40.

She is a more extreme example of what many women (who are not actresses) feel when their hair starts turning gray and they begin to get “crow’s feet.” The fear is that these very natural parts of aging mean that the woman is no longer desirable, or sexy, or beautiful. There are women who are absolutely terrified of “getting old” because they worry that no one will want them.

Unfortunately, this fear is not an unfounded one. Elise’s husband, Bill Atchison (played by Victor Garber) is divorcing her and has started dating a woman who is much younger than than Elise. Tension builds when Elise is asked to play the role of “the mother” in a script where Bill’s new lover will play the lead role of the daughter.

A similar thing happened to Brenda Cushman (played by Bette Midler). She got married to Morton “Morty” Cushman when they were young, ran the cash register in his electronics stores, and had a son with him. Now, Brenda is 45 and Morty has left her and gotten into a serious relationship with Shelly Stewart (played by Sarah Jessica Parker). Brenda and Morty’s fifteen-year-old son has trouble coping with this situation.

Brenda laments to her friends that everything with she and Morty was just fine. Then, on their 20th wedding anniversary, Morty began having what Brenda calls a mid-life crisis. In short, he decides that she isn’t fun anymore and is holding him back. He replaces her with a thinner, younger, blond woman who is about half her age.

“Who’s supposed to wear that? Some anorexic teenager?”

There is a scene where Brenda is walking past a department store with a friend. She stops to look at a tiny black dress in the window. “Who’s supposed to wear that?” she rhetorically asks her friend, “Some anorexic teenager? Some fetus?” Her rant continues with her intent to lead a protest by never buying any more clothing until the designers “come to their senses.”

Her words are something I can personally relate to. I recently turned 40, and I am no longer the “anorexic teenager” that I was in high school. I’ve gained some weight since then. This is normal. We get older, our metabolisms slow down, and weight loss becomes more difficult. I, too, wonder when the designers will “come to their senses” and produce clothing that adult, women can actually fit into!

Annie Paradis (played by Diane Keaton) has a slightly different story. She isn’t actually divorced yet. She and her husband Aaron Paradis (played by Stephen Collins) are separated. They had been going to couple’s therapy but now are each seeing a therapist individually. Annie truly believes that they are in the process of working things out and getting back together.

Her daughter, Chris Paradis (played by Jennifer Dundas) describes her mother as a “doormat.” Chris is a college student and old enough to see that her father isn’t treating her mother very well. She is frustrated that her mom allows it. Unlike Brenda’s son, Chris doesn’t want her parents to get back together.

There is a scene where Annie is going on (what she believes) is a date with Aaron. She is convinced that he is going to tell her that he wants to get back together. Instead, after they have become intimate in his hotel room, he announces that he wants a divorce. This completely destroys Annie.

She is a woman who, like many women, has issues with self-esteem. After a lifetime of suppressing her anger, and striving to always be “nice,” Annie finally lets out her feelings in a loud, sobbing, messy way. At the same time, the phrase she uses most often during this catharsis is “I’m sorry.”

Annie screaming “I’m sorry!!!”

Annie, Brenda, and Elise form the “First Wives Club” and decide that they want to find a way to take revenge upon their husbands. The main plot of the movie focuses on the many ways the women do exactly that. Their ex-husbands find themselves losing favorite possessions, losing money, and (potentially) losing their jobs. Women who are going through a divorce may want to watch this movie simply to live vicariously through it. What happens is overblown and unlikely to happen in the real lives of most women.

Later, the women start to want more than revenge. They decide to turn their efforts toward helping other divorced women. Again, this requires their ex-husbands, whom they have now managed to blackmail, to spend more money. To me, this part of the plot felt a bit forced and strange. The change from “let’s get ’em” to “let’s open a charity” was rather abrupt.

The First Wives Club was released in 1996, a time when almost no one carried a cell phone. As such, the majority of phone calls that take place in the movie are done on land-line phones with clunky receivers. There is a scene where Brenda goes out to dinner by herself. She doesn’t spend the meal fiddling with her cell phone – and neither do any of the other people in the restaurant. Times have changed since the late 1990’s (and realizing this makes me feel “old”).

Jen Thorpe is a freelance writer, podcaster, and gamer. She is the cofounder of the No Market website (nomarket.org) and writes for it frequently on a wide variety of topics and subjects. You can keep up with everything she does by following her @queenofhaiku.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Am Thankful for Lake Bell’s ‘In a World’

Movie poster for In a World …

This is a guest post by Molly McCaffrey.

1) Number one and most important of all, I’m thankful this movie was written and directed by a woman and that it’s a story about a strong, smart, interesting woman.

Director and screenwriter Lake Bell at the Sundance Film Festival

I am incredibly thankful about that.

2) I’m thankful this movie stars an actress who doesn’t look like every other Hollywood actress. Yes, Bell is beautiful, but she also doesn’t have the button nose, full lips, perfect posture, and blond hair that has become so annoyingly ubiquitous among our female movie stars.

Louis (Demetri Martin) and Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) sing their guts out in In a World …

And neither do her co-stars…

Louis (Demetri Martin) and Cher (Tig Notaro) watch Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) record a voice-over.

(You also gotta love a movie that has both Tig Notaro and Geena Davis.)

3) On a related note, I’m thankful Bell’s protagonist, Carol Solomon, doesn’t always act like a leading lady—she shuffles, lurches, and acts generally spazzy. She doesn’t always look glamorous either—she doesn’t always wear makeup or look perfectly primped and often wears regular-people clothes (sweatpants, thermal underwear, t-shirts, football jerseys, overalls, ill-fitting dresses, etc.)—just like the rest of us.

Louis (Demetri Martin) and Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) hatch plans to take over the voice-over industry.

At the same time, I’m glad Carol looks attractive when she wants to without looking trashy or showing off all the goods.

4) I’m also thankful that several men are attracted to Carol even though she doesn’t know how to dress or stand up straight (and that the men who are drawn to her are attractive but not perfect either).

Carol Solomon’s love interest, Louis (Demetri Martin)

5) I love, too, that this film shows an intelligent, driven, attractive young female protagonist in a relationship, but it isn’t what defines her. Let me say that again: Thank God her relationship doesn’t define her!

I was equally thrilled that Carol had casual sex with some random guy she met at a party and celebrated it. And that she didn’t end up regretting her actions or have something bad happen to her as a result. In this movie, sex was just part of life—no big deal—much like it is in real life.

Louis (Demetri Martin) and Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) karaoke the night away in In a World …

6) I was also head over heels over the fact that the two sisters—Carol and Dani—were so close and leaned on each other for everything.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) and her sister, Dani (Michaela Watkins)

I was glad, as well, that the person who had an “affair” in this movie was a woman (rather than a man) and that she didn’t actually go all the way.

7) I really appreciate, too, that this movie shows a young person living at home with a parent and that she isn’t doing so because she’s a lazy, lost, unmotivated slacker.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) and her father (Fred Melamed) argue about her career.

And I was truly blown away by the film’s characterization of Carol’s family—a real family having down-to-earth, regular problems.

No, nobody is dying of cancer, nobody is mentally ill or disabled, nobody is in prison, nobody is an alcoholic. The characters in this movie are just average people with average problems—like jealousy, resentment, miscommunication, and selfishness.

I am very grateful about that.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) and her father (Fred Melamed) on the way to an industry party.

8) I’m thrilled about several things relating to Carol’s job…

I’m relieved Carol works in a non-glamorous industry that we don’t usually see featured in movies—the voice-over industry.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) records a voice-over.

I love, too, that she cares so much about her work even though it doesn’t pay the bills.

And I’m glad that the film shows her having some success in that field without totally dominating it a la every other movie ever made (Erin Brockovich, Jerry Maguire, The Devil Wears Prada, Working Girl, etc., etc.).

9) I’m downright ecstatic about the fact that Carol didn’t have to trip or fall to make us laugh, avoiding the ridiculous formulas that often dominate movies about women.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) surrounded by her work notes in her bedroom at her father’s house.

Thank you for that, Lake Bell!

Tangentially, it was also awesome that Carol was irritated by stupid people doing stupid things and didn’t apologize for that.

10) And last but not least, I’m incredibly thankful this movie made me laugh and feel and, for God’s sake, think.

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell)

If only all movies did the same.

Molly McCaffrey is the author of the short story collection How to Survive Graduate School & Other Disasters, the co-editor of Commutability: Stories about the Journey from Here to There, and the founder of I Will Not Diet, a blog devoted to healthy living and body acceptance. She has worked with Academy Award winner Barbara Kopple and received her Ph.D. from the University of Cincinnati. Currently she teaches at Western Kentucky University and designs books for Steel Toe Books. She is at work on her first memoir, You Belong to Us, which tells the story of McCaffrey meeting her biological family.

A Letter to Hollywood: Keep Films Like ‘The Heat’ Coming

The Heat movie poster.

Dear Hollywood Movie Executives,

As I have driven by my local movie theater this summer, I’ve been struck by how I haven’t wanted to see most of the movies. You haven’t been getting much money from me.

But I’d like to talk to you about The Heat, which opened nationwide last weekend.

I’m not a buddy-cop movie aficionado; in fact, I could count the number of films in that genre that I’ve seen on about a half of a hand, tops. But The Heat? I wanted to see it. So you got some of my money.

Judging from the crowded theater at a weekday afternoon showing–including a trio of dude-bros in front of me–and the fact that the film came in second at the box office, you got some of lots of people’s money.

The Heat promotional still.

There’s money in this for you. What’s “this”? This is producing and releasing blockbuster films with female leads.

I know, I know. You’ve been hesitant to do so. Men’s stories have long been the standard-bearer of literature and film. Men’s stories are universal, women’s stories are for women. In the middle of June, 90 percent of feature films were about men or groups of men, and Man of Steel had about six times the number of showings as all of the films about women combined.

Mullins (McCarthy) and Ashburn (Bullock) work together.

Stories about (white) men have been easy for you for a long time. Just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s good or right–or even the most financially sound.

When Bridesmaids (directed by Paul Feig, who directed The Heat) was released, it passed up Knocked Up as Judd Apatow’s highest-grossing film. Pitch Perfect made almost $100 million worldwide.

Is this just our petite lady-ration? One big female-fronted blockbuster per year?

Please sir, I want some more.

The Heat delivers just the kind of big escapism that one would expect from a summer blockbuster. Melissa McCarthy is absolutely amazing. She is a national treasure. And while the film is fairly formulaic, the punch lines are not.

Ashburn and Mullins also drink together.

Officer Mullins (McCarthy) roughs up and arrests a man soliciting a prostitute. He feels her full wrath because he tries to excuse his actions by saying his wife just had a baby and everything downstairs was messy. There is not one punch line about Mullins’s weight. More than one man comes to her in desperation because she’s not called them back. While Ashburn (Sandra Bullock) walks the stereotype line (she’s an “unlikable” but highly successful single woman), she’s a good agent, and she and Mullins complement one another.

Spanx (Ashburn’s, not Mullins’s), vaginas, areolas … the premise of the film may be masculine, but women weren’t just inserted into men’s roles. This female-centric comedy worked. Women are funny.

And I’ll tell you what–those dude-bros in front of me were laughing hard when Mullins was criticizing Ashburn’s Spanx (because her “furnace” couldn’t “air out” in them).

Mullins is shocked by the concept of Spanx.

Women are funny. Female writers are funny (Parks and Recreation‘s Katie Dippold wrote The Heat). Female performers are funny. Jokes about strictly female experiences are funny–for everybody.

If women can laugh at men’s jokes–which doesn’t seem to be a problem–then men can laugh at women’s jokes. It’s pretty simple. The Heat shows us that. Cops, whiskey, drug rings, and a refrigerator full of guns and ammo may feel masculine, but Ashburn and Mullins show that women can wield it all.

The Heat made me laugh and cry.

I want more. I want theaters to be packed with genre films with women at the helm–in character, with the writing credits, as directors. The Heat 2 is already in the works, but there is so much opportunity for women in blockbusters. And I want dude-bros going to those movies in droves. I bet they will, too.

Now you need to believe it.

These female-led blockbusters are always “surprise,” hits, but how many times can you be surprised by the success of movies with female protagonists? At some point, you need to realize that people like this.

If you take up my plea and fund more female-centric films, I must warn you: some of them might not be awesome. Some may be mediocre, or bad. Just like movies with male leads. When Freddie Got Fingered bombed, the takeaway wasn’t that men can’t carry comedies. Remember that.

When the film ended, I stopped the trio of teenage boys and asked them if they liked the movie. It was unanimous: yes. I asked if they ever thought about not seeing it because the main characters were women. It was unanimous: no. (One exclaimed, “Not once.”)

If you don’t believe me and my dude-bros, here’s some recommended reading: NPR, Jezebel, Women and Hollywood, and Vulture all give the film favorable to glowing reviews.

One more thing: we need to talk about marketing. These movie posters are an atrocity. Mullins’s weight wasn’t an issue on-screen, but clearly your marketing departments felt the need to drastically change her.

Make them stop that.

No.

Sincerely,

Leigh Kolb

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