Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Guest Writer Wednesday: The Black Play Thing on The Big C



Cross posted at Womanist Musings.

Let me say from the start that I take no issue with inter-racial relationships. I do however have a problem when Black sexuality is used as a device in the media. Much of  last Monday's episode had to do with sexuality. Cathy, played by Laura Linney, is dying of cancer and is determined to change her life before she dies. The episode begins with her standing up for herself when someone rudely steps in front her and ends with her having sex on a desk with a Black man that she barely knows. While this kind of sexual behavior is out of character from her, I am not certain that anonymous sex as liberation is a positive move for women.

Her son is 14 years old and as such he is beginning to explore his sexuality. He bumps into Andrea, who is played by Gabourey Sidibe, running laps around a track. She tells him to "stop looking at her titties." When he denies looking at her, she tells him how great hers are and that he probably has never touched "titties" before. Of course, this leads to male bravado, which prompts her to invite him to touch her breasts. When he hesitates she grabs his hand, places it on her breast and then promptly jogs away. Considering that Gabourey's character is nothing but filler on the show, it gives the impression that Black female bodies exist for the purposes of White male sexual experimentation. This is even further problematic when we consider the brutal history of rape and slavery that exists between White Men and Black women. You cannot divorce this narrative from a scene on television no matter how race conscious the actors themselves are. Furthermore, the language which is utilized in this scene does not inspire a full respect for Andrea's body.

The idea that Black bodies can and should be used for sexual experimentation or as a form of rebellion is based squarely in racism. First, Cathy waxes her pubic hair and then she takes off her panties to reveal her vagina to the man she would later sleep with. Throughout the entire episode, he is not even given a name, which of course presents him as little more than a mandigo to sexually satisfy his Missy Anne. What passes between them is not sex, or even a woman finding some form of liberation -- but the service of a Black buck for his mistress. Black men have time and time again functioned as a form of rebellion for White women, because our White supremacist society expects them to couple with White males. Even as White women are objectifying Black men and reducing them to roving penises, it is seen as liberation because inter-racial sex is still considered taboo by many. It is a false positive because agency should not involve the repetition of reductive constructions.

There is a difference between a loving relationship between two parties and the objectification of one group by another. Simply because White women are oppressed due to patriarchy, does not mean that they lack the ability to oppress people of colour in various instances. The very fact that their identity often becomes spoiled, once they engage in an inter-racial relationship, furthers the idea that bodies of colour exist as a form of rebellion against the sexist norm. What we learned in this episode, is that for Cathy, liberation means the freedom to break taboos and utilize the Whiteness of her body to her advantage. Considering that this program is largely White with the exception of a few appearances of Sidibe as Andrea, it seems that White woman liberation is little more than the ability to act with the same impunity as White men.

Renee Martin's blogs include Womanist Musings, Tell It WOC Speak, and Women's Eye on Media

 

Monday, September 27, 2010

Quote of the Day: Ellen Page


I think it's a total drag. I've been lucky to get interesting parts but there are still not that many out there for women. And everybody is so critical of women. If there's a movie starring a man that tanks, then I don't see an article about the fact that the movie starred a man and that must be why it bombed. Then a film comes out where a woman is in the lead, or a movie comes out where a bunch of girls are roller derbying, and it doesn't make much money and you see articles about how women can't carry a film.
 On the controversy created by Juno:
I was like, "You know what? You all need to calm down." People are so black and white about this. Because she kept the baby everybody said the film was against abortion. But if she'd had an abortion everybody would have been like, "Oh my God." I am a feminist and I am totally pro-choice, but what's funny is when you say that people assume that you are pro-abortion. I don't love abortion but I want women to be able to choose and I don't want white dudes in an office being able to make laws on things like this. I mean what are we going to do — go back to clothes hangers?


Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Guest Writer Wednesday: THE DILEMMA Preview

Cross-posted at Shakesville.

THIS LOOKS GREAT!!!

(That was sarcasm.)

Here's the trailer for a fun new movie—coming in January to a theater near you!—from Ron Howard, starring (big voice) Vince Vaughn, Kevin James, and (little voice) Queen Latifah, Jennifer Connelly, and Winona Ryder, about the
conundrum
predicament dilemma (!) in which Vaughn finds himself after discovering that his best friend's wife is cheating on his best friend.

Even though he calls them, as a couple, his "hero" for their awesome relationship, before uncovering the
quandary
crisis dilemma-producing infidelity, she is only known as his "best friend's wife," not, you know, his friend, Geneva. She's just his best friend's appendage, not her own autonomous entity with an independent relationship with him, despite the fact they apparently hang out in a big group all the time.

Anyway, the lack of female personhood is probably the least of this movie's problems, given that the trailer opens with a homophobic joke:





[Transcript below.]

I can't even imagine what the hilarious reversal is going to be. Is Ryder posing as a beard for James'? Is it an immigration scam? What is the kooky story behind the Very Hot Lady who is cheating on her Stupid Fat Husband?! Boy, I bet it's a hoot!

With a nod to how awesome our new post-feminist world is, I'd also like to note that Jennifer Connelly has won an Oscar. Winona Ryder has twice been nominated for Oscars. Queen Latifah has been nominated for an Oscar.

Vince Vaughn and Kevin James have both been nominated for Teen Choice Awards.

[Via Andy. As always, I am not discussing the film per se; I'm discussing the trailer, and what I perceive the film to be based on how it is being represented by its own marketing.]
[Vince Vaughn, wearing a business suit, stands in a corporate conference room, in front of a table of other people wearing business suits, giving a presentation.]

Vaughn: Ladies and gentlemen, electric cars [long pause for comedic effect] are gay. I mean, not homosexual gay, but, you know, my-parents-are-chaperoning-the-dance gay. [His business partner, Kevin James, nods in agreement.] B&B engine design can combine the benefits of electric transportation with the rock-and-rollness of Dodge's current muscle car models.

James: That we all know and love!

[Queen Latifah, part of the group to whom they're presenting, nods and smiles appreciatively. Vaughn wow-wows the opening riff of Heart's "Barracuda" while playing air guitar. Cut to Queen Latifah talking to Vaughn and James in the hall after the meeting.]

QL: I'm inspired by what you're throwing down, and I got some serious lady-wood here. [She gestures to her crotch.] I want to have sex with your words. [James throws a side-eye at Vaughn.] Gotta go! Mommy and me! I'll call you! [She waves and runs off.]

Text Onscreen: TWO BEST FRIENDS.

[Cut to Vaughn and James at a smoky bar. Vaughn's girlfriend is Jennifer Connelly. James' wife is Winona Ryder.]

Vaughn: Nick, buddy, we got the deal.

James [to Connelly]: I'm not gonna lie—I love your boyfriend. Come in here. [They hug and the girls cheer.] This is great.

Vaughn: Don't ever let me go.

Text Onscreen: TWO PERFECT COUPLES.

[Cut to a restaurant, where the two couples are sitting around a table. Vaughn and Connelly kiss each other.]

James: I think you can know someone within the first ten seconds of seeing them; I fell in love with Geneva the moment I saw her.

Ryder: Awwww. [She reaches out and strokes James' cheek.]

[Cut to James and Ryder on the dance floor; James, because he is fat and intrinsically hilarious, is dancing like a complete arse; Vaughn and Connelly watch from a booth.]

Vaughn: When it comes to couples, they're my hero.

James: Honey, you hear that? Ronnie told Beth I'm his hero! [Ryder gives an "awwww" look. James turns back to Vaughn.] I'm Mean Joe Green; you're the little boy with the Coke bottle; come on, I'll throw ya a jersey! Let's do it! [More ridiculous dancing.]

Text Onscreen: BUT THIS JANUARY.

[Vaughn, now in some tropical location, sees Ryder with young hot stud, Channing Tatum. He spies on them through the foliage, as "Barracuda" swells.]

Text Onscreen: ONE LITTLE DISCOVERY…

[Vaughn ventures deeper into the foliage for a closer look, ignoring a sign reading: "CAUTION Passiflora incarnata DO NOT ENTER. He sees Ryder and Tatum kissing.]

Text Onscreen: WILL CAUSE A BIG DILEMMA.

[Vaughn trips and falls face-first into a bunch of plants. Cut to Vaughn sitting indoors with two other white dudes, his face all fucked up.]

Vaughn: I just saw my best friend's wife with another man.

Dude #1 (played by Clint Howard, in his obligatory role in every film of his brother's): You fell in a whole bed of poisonous passiflora incarnatas!

Dude #2: You can expect diarrhea, fever, dry heaving, painful swelling in your gums, and challenging urination, with a possible bloody discharge. [HA! HIS FRIEND'S WIFE'S CHEATING EVEN RUINED HIS DICK!]

Text Onscreen: From Academy Award winning director Ron Howard.

Vaughn [to some other random white dude in another setting]: Let me ask you a question, and this is completely hypothetical, something way out of left field [continuing as voiceover, over images of Vaughn stalking his best friend's wife and discovering her with Tatum again]: Let's say that one friend found out that another friend's wife was cheating on him…

Dude #3: How good a friend?

[Cut to footage of Vaughn and James at a Blackhawks' game, doing a choreographed move together.]

Vaughn [back with Dude #3]: Let's just say his best friend. Very best friend.

Dude #3: I wouldn't tell him.

[Clips of random people responding to, one assumes, the same question. A black woman says: "It all depends." A young white dudebro says, "He's gotta tell him. It's guy code, man. If you don't tell your friend, then you're basically doing her, too." Cut to Vaughn walking with James at a bar or something.]

Vaughn: Nick, I need to talk to you about something.

James: What's going on with you?

[Random scenes that make no sense, inserted presumably to show that Things Happen in the movie.]

Text Onscreen: THE DILEMMA.

[Scene of Vaughn peeing and screaming.]

Connelly: Are you all right?

Vaughn: Oh, to be honest with ya, honey, I'm feeling a little challenged. [Hilarious callback to being told he will have challenging urination.]

Text Onscreen: COMING SOON.

Melissa McEwan is the founder and manager of the award-winning political and cultural group blog Shakesville, which she launched as Shakespeare's Sister in October 2004 because George Bush was pissing her off. In addition to running Shakesville, she also contributes to The Guardian's Comment is Free America and AlterNet.  

Friday, September 17, 2010

Ripley's Rebuke: The Big C


I decided to give The Big C a try, thinking a television show that stars Oscar-nominated Laura Linney, and the very recently Oscar-nominated Gabourey Sidibe, just might successfully pull-off a series about a woman dying from Stage IV melanoma. Instead, The Big C comes across as a slew of quirky characters competing in the Who Can Be the Biggest Asshole contest.

The show centers around Cathy (Laura Linney), a middle-aged woman diagnosed with Stage IV melanoma. As of the first five episodes, only her neighbor knows that she has cancer, and she refuses to discuss the issue with her immediate family. It's easy to identify with Cathy's unwillingness to open up to her husband, son, and brother about her diagnosis; she's spent most of her life mothering all of them. She wants to avoid their pity. And she wants to avoid the role reversal of going from caretaker to taken care of.

But the show goes way too far in its depiction of Cathy as a cancer-stricken woman who, instead of undergoing treatment, forgoes it in favor of "grabbing life by the balls" (the show's actual tagline). The writers make her boringly crazy in her new zest for life: "Look, I'm pouring red wine all over my expensive couch!" ... "Look, I'm shooting my son with a paintball gun on his school bus!" ... "Look, I'm doing cartwheels!" ... "Look, I just stole a live lobster from the restaurant tank!" Worst of all, they make her mean, not in a way that showcases her strength or even her fear, but for sheer "comedic" effect, all the while asking the audience to forgive her for lashing out—remember, she's got cancer for god's sake!

Check it:

In the first episode, Cathy, who apparently teaches high school (summer school in this case), fat shames Sidibe's character, Andrea, in front of the entire class. After Andrea makes a joke about Cathy's recent unfocused and apathetic attitude toward teaching, Cathy responds with:
You can't be fat and mean, Andrea ... If you're gonna dish it out, you gotta be able to lick it up. Fat people are jolly for a reason. Fat repels people, but joy attracts them. Now I know everyone's laughing at your cruel jokes, but nobody's inviting you to the prom. So you can either be fat and jolly or a skinny bitch. It's up to you.
Watch the Clip



Really, Showtime? You took a gorgeous, talented actress and cast her as The Fat Girl who gets paid $100 by her teacher for every pound she loses? And, of course, it's important that you make sure the teacher verbally and emotionally abuses The Fat Girl first. And that she chastises The Fat Girl about diet and exercise and her lack of motivation, even after The Fat Girl lists a slew of her past unsuccessful dieting attempts. And that her teacher totally, believably just happens to pull up beside her in a car, immediately pouring The Fat Girl's giant slushy onto the street. (Because we all know, a Fat Girl can't say no to a giant slushy.)

What gives, Showtime? Are we supposed to laugh our asses off at Andrea's apparently disgusting fatness? (Admittedly, it's just hilarious every time Andrea gets caught with another bag of potato chips that Cathy's forced to take away from her.) Or, do you just want us to feel bad for Cathy for projecting her own desire to be "healthy" onto a young highschooler who has her whole life ahead of her, earnestly telling The Fat Girl, "I just don't want you to drop dead before you graduate ... "? Read: I might have to die young, but I can make sure Andrea doesn't!

This is all a hoot, really.

And, if I can take this further, Showtime, what are we to make of The Fat Girl's willingness to put up with Cathy's behavior toward her? Oh, I forgot—Fat Girls don't feel the way "regular" people feel; they're too busy simultaneously pounding milkshakes and scarfing Big Macs to be bothered with the nonsense of experiencing emotions. The Fat Girl's abysmal self-esteem must not even allow her to fathom standing up for herself, right? Because all Fat Girls deep down hate themselves and sit on the couch binge-eating pizzas, gaining more and more weight, never getting invited to the prom and, therefore, never deserving authentic love (ie, not the charity-case kind) or self-respect.

Or maybe she just wants the $100 for every pound she loses. Thank god for good, old-fashioned motivation wrapped up in a little Fat Hatred, right?

Really, hilarious.

The thing is, this could've been an intelligent show, if it weren't so desperately trying to avoid sentimentality and any hint of darkness. Heather Havrilesky suggests, in her review over at Salon, that perhaps the show's creator received direction to make the whole thing a little less dark, a little less ... "deathy." She writes:
I'm going to guess that either show creator Darlene Hunt or Laura Linney or both of them were given the following note at some point: "Lighten it up!" Maybe some test audience thought the story was too gloomy, too depressing, too focused on death. "Death? Yuck!" they said. "We don't want death! We want zany pot-dealer moms who shrug and slurp on frappuccinos! We want zany multiple-personality-disorder moms who shrug and toss back canned beer! We want zany nurse moms who shrug and pop prescription drugs and have affairs with their pharmacist buddies! But zany control-freak moms who shrug and get naked in the back yard, because they're about to die? No thank you!"
But the strategy to "lighten up this whole Stage IV cancer thing" ultimately fails in its cliche-ridden execution.

The over the top attempt to prevent the audience from getting too bogged down in death gives us Marlene (Phyllis Somerville), Cathy's feisty old neighbor who refuses to mow her lawn or watch her dog or interact with anyone, blah. It gives us Paul (Oliver Platt), Cathy's husband, the witty, schlubby yet lovable man-child in constant need of mothering by his wife. It gives us Adam (Gabriel Basso), Cathy's son, the angsty, video game playing, mother-hating teenage boy who, in one absolutely necessary scene, gets caught masturbating by his mom. It gives us Sean (John Benjamin Hickey), Cathy's brothermy favorite, reallyan eco-extremist who eats leftover food from the garbage, protests gas-guzzling SUVs with a megaphone, refuses to bathe, avoids the dentist (fuck the system, you know?), and deliberately lives as a homeless person because he's, like, so above the establishment.

(I find Sean particularly problematic because of the unapologetic excess of white, heterosexual, male privilege, as if there aren't people who actually don't have the means to go to the dentist, as if millions of people aren't actually homeless, and, by the way, who don't also have the convenient luxury of an upper middle class sister showing up every other day with food and clothing and money. See above for previous examples of the man-child.)

Basically, the show wallows in stereotypes but doesn't take them far enough to make much of a commentary on ... anything. I want the show to say something about class issues and privilege. I want the show to say something about the health care system and how financial prosperity, or lack thereof, might impact treatment decisions. I want the show to say something about victim-blaming, about the very real challenges of a woman living with men who don't respect her, about aging and how it feels to navigate the world in a body deemed less desirable, less able.

But this show wants to laugh at those things: "Look, I'm setting my expensive couch on fire, because I can." ... "Look! I'm paying the workers double to install my swimming pool immediately, because I can." ... "Look! I'm shaming an obese student into losing weight, because I can." Perhaps what disappoints me most is that the show expects the audience to root for Cathy in all her reckless, carefree, unacknowledged privilege abandon, like, "Look! She's totally grabbing life by the balls, just like the tagline said she would."


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Reader Question: Finding movies for girls

Perhaps in response to our Quote of the Day from Geena Davis, founder of the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media, a reader asks:
As the father of a nearly year-old daughter, I'd be interested in getting some informed takes on children's movies. We'll undoubtedly be watching many in the next few years. Can we apply this Bechdel test to some of the classics of the genre or are there more complex forces at ...work? If there are other considerations, what would they be?
While the Bechdel test is certainly a great place to start--seeing whether girls talk to each other about something other than boys--it's not the end-all of determining feminist media. Female characters with true agency represent real role models for girls. So...avoid Disney? Certainly someone can offer better advice.

Help us out: What specific movies/television programs would you recommend for young girls?


Monday, September 13, 2010

Quote of the Day: Geena Davis

Gender in Media activist and actress Geena Davis
Perhaps best known for her award-winning roles on television and in film, Geena Davis is the founder of the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media. According to the website 
Five years ago, while watching children's television programs and videos with her then 2-year old daughter, Academy Award winner Geena Davis noticed a remarkable imbalance in the ratio of male to female characters. From that small starting point, Davis went on to raise funds for the largest research project ever undertaken on gender in children's entertainment (resulting in 4 discrete studies, including one on children's television).

The research showed that in the top-grossing G-rated films from 1990-2005, there were three male characters for every one female - a statistic that did not improve over time.

The concern was clear: What message does this send to young children?
We've highlighted our disappointment with Pixar for its girl problem (WALL-E, Up), but nearly every Disney film deserves the same--if not worse--scorn (and that's just picking on two production companies). As angry as films make us when they don't depict real, complex women, the problem really starts with children's programming--and the solution might, too.
We really learn our value in society by seeing ourselves reflected in the culture--kids more so than anyone. I mean, as they're learning what their role in society is and what's their place and value, they're exposed to massive amounts of media, and the message that boys and girls are getting currently is that girls are not as valuable as boys, and that women are not as important as men.
Kudos to Geena Davis for tackling this important problem. Check out her website, and watch a short interview about her project below.




Friday, September 10, 2010

Disembodied Women Take Three: Leggy Perfection




In 1978, Hustler magazine depicted a headless woman shoved into a meat grinder on their June cover. Thirty two years later, Spike TV chose virtually the same image to promote their television show Blue Mountain State. Also, note the poster image for the film Choke, pictured below. This installment of "Disembodied Women" focuses on the continued use of dismemberment, in this case exposing women's bare legs, to advertise films. The posters vary considerably, promoting horror films and romantic comedies, as well as foreign films and period pieces. The problem with such advertisements, as media activist Jean Kilbourne argues in her book Can't Buy My Love: How Advertising Changes the Way We Think and Feel, is that this perpetual sexual objectification of women encourages men to think of women as inferior. Additionally, women begin to view themselves as a collection of body parts, where a perceived flaw in only one area of the body leads to an obsessive desire to perfect the whole. For more disturbing evidence, check out our first and second installments, The Rear View and The Headless Woman, and feel free to add to our growing list of offending films in the comments section.


















Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Guest Writer Wednesday: On Sam Mendes's Almost Feminist Revolutionary Road

Winslet and DiCaprio star in Revolutionary Road
Revolutionary Road (2008) is almost a feminist film. It also just falls short of being something more than the hackneyed anti-suburbia types of film Sam Mendes revels in making.

A couple, who once fell in love over common artistic dreams, pulls off to the side of a highway to engage in verbal combat, sparked by the kitschy play the wife has just acted in, that threatens to turn physical. Each blames the other.

April Wheeler (Kate Winslet) reflects on their life together throughout the next day. As she drags her metal trash cans to the curb to join the others aligned down both sides of their anything-but-revolutionary road, she recalls her real estate agent introducing her and her husband, Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio), to their future home, the typically perfect white suburban house. Later, as she looks through old photographs, a second flashback recalls a conversation with Frank where she told him he was the most interesting man she had ever met.

As April reminisces about the hopes of the past, Frank woos a secretary at his cliché-ridden office job in a sales department. He gets her drunk, uses her as a shrink to confess that he has turned into his father despite his best intentions, and—as you already have guessed—sleeps with her. When he returns home past dusk, April meets him with smiles, an enthusiastic apology, and a birthday cake with thirty lit candles. Frank cries as his wife and two children—one girl, one boy—sing to him.

At this point I thought to myself, à la SNL’s Seth Meyers and alum Amy Poehler, "Really? Really? Do we really need to see another suburbia-is-the-ninth-circle-of-hell film? Really?" Hadn’t Mad Men already taken this trite formula to its farcical limits? The irony has lost its whip; there’s no need to tell us that life on Revolutionary Road is the conservative fast lane to Hades. We’ve been wise to the parable for some time: American beauty is anything but.

When I saw Frank washing away his infidelities in the shower, I puked a little in my mouth.

But then something unexpected happened. Instead of Kevin Spacey throwing a plate against a wall and toking up with his teenage daughter’s boyfriend, April lays bare the message of films like American Beauty. Road becomes meta-cinematic when she tells Frank:
Well, I happen to think this (suburban life) is unrealistic. I think it's unrealistic for a man with a fine mind to go on working like a dog year after year at a job he can't stand, coming home to a place he can't stand, to a wife who's equally unable to stand the same things. You want to know the worst part? Our whole existence here is based on this great premise that we're somehow very special and superior to the whole thing, and you know what I've realized...? We're not! We're just like everyone else. Look at us!  We've bought into the same ridiculous delusion. This idea that you have to resign from life and settle down the moment you have children. And we've been punishing each other for it.
With this piece of dialogue, a character within the film’s diegetic reality provides an accurate account of the predicament of the film’s starring couple…near the beginning of the film! Road replaces Beauty’s device of a dead male narrator who knows the foibles of his life only after it is over with a living, breathing, and INTELLIGENT female character who knows them and wants out before it’s too late. In a later scene, she tells one of their neighbors that she actually wants “in” to life, a nice reversal that equates suburban living with death, that favorite topic of anti-consumerist zombie films.

After some initial resistance, Frank agrees with April’s analysis and her diagnosis. They will move to Paris so that he may figure out what he wants to do with his life while she supports the family on secretary’s wages (thanks to France’s fairer treatment of women workers). Although such a plan seems anti-feminist on the surface, and one neighbor says as much upon hearing it, there is something liberating about it. Shots follow of April and Frank almost glowing with the prospect that they will soon be leaving the humdrum rhythms of Eisenhower America.

Of course, the best-laid plans of mice and couples often go awry, and the Wheelers fail to make it to Paris (I mused that their voyage would be cut short somewhere in the north Atlantic anyway). The Wheelers’ plans go awry when Frank comes up with a business slogan that impresses his higher-ups so much that they offer him a promotion. The irony is that Frank’s sudden show of corporate creativity only comes after he has convinced himself to leave. The mere thought of becoming a class traitor opens the wells of inspiration trapped inside him not a moment too late, which is so often the case, but a moment too early. The prospect of becoming a well-compensated company man leads him to waver on his early retirement. As if this were not enough, April discovers that she is pregnant with their third child. Although they convince each other that Paris is still in the cards, the odds seem stacked against them.

Here is where our co-heroes separate into their roles as protagonist and antagonist. I assert that Frank betrays April by buying into the “realist” narrative of his friends and colleagues, i.e. the American middle class. Notably, in the key scene where he dismisses Paris as a pipe dream, he responds to April’s proposal of an abortion like a Right-wing conservative. 
April, a normal woman, a normal sane mother doesn't buy herself a piece of rubber tubing to give herself an abortion so she can go live out some goddamned fantasy.
He reduces her to a scolded child, the idea of moving to Paris now considered a “childish dream.” Frank promptly resumes fucking his secretary like the mad man that he has become (and unconsciously always was and desired to be despite himself).

The ensuing fight between the Wheelers parallels the one that opens the film with one significant difference: although they both recognize that Truth has just spake, only April refuses to ignore it. She no longer loves Frank precisely because he is no longer the man she married, the man who wanted more from life than a cookie-cutter existence, and she reaffirms this fact. Frank cannot handle the Truth, and does his best to defend against it. He speaks for April, putting words in her mouth that she cannot express because she no longer loves him. April has not grown cold to him because of his unfaithfulness with another woman—April sleeps with another man, too—but his infidelity to himself.

The film should end with the two most disturbing scenes of all.

First, Frank awakens to find April playing Stepford wife. She pauses from cooking breakfast when he enters the kitchen and apologizes, just as she does earlier in the film with the birthday cake and party, except this time her words sound eerily scripted. Because Frank no longer cares about Truth and desires only to live in bad faith, he plays along, a bit surprised but also pleasantly amused. When he leaves, one gets the sense that he has bought into the male-centric American Dream. One knows that April hasn’t.

The second scene finds April crying in front of her mirror after Frank has left. She makes a fitful call where she threatens to break down at any moment to the babysitter watching her kids to ask if she can prolong her duties. The egg yolks that the camera focused on her scrambling in the prior scene retroactively become a foreshadowing moment, as she methodically carries out the abortion. When she descends the stairs, the camera focuses on her unsteady feet. Her face is pale. She goes to the window. The sun shines upon her and she lets out a small smile. Then a drip of blood falls to the carpet. The camera pans back to show a pool of blood expanding on the back of her skirt. She slowly moves out of the frame to make a phone call, “I think I need an ambulance...Yes…One one five Revolutionary Road...”

A perfectly disturbing end, right? No! Mendes cannot help but steal the show from his now ex-wife. Instead of ending with a shot of the blood on the carpet—the blotch in suburbia that betrays it a violent, life-draining lie—and April voicing the title of the film offscreen, Mendes includes a coda, a series of short scenes that a) turn the film anti-feminist and b) reinstate the generic codes of the cinematic anti-suburbia tract. 

Instead of being left with a woman who may or may not be in critical condition, we learn that April dies, and her death acts as a sacrifice to return the men to normalcy. Frank moves to the city with his kids, thus finding some compromise between Paris and the American suburbs. The neighbor, who professed his unrequited love for April after she slept with him, becomes closer with his wife. We might brush these scenes against the grain to argue that they are the most feminist part of all because they show that female sacrifice undergirds the American Dream of the middle class, but they also inspire an unwarranted sympathy for Frank. The men are allowed to mourn almost as an act of contrition.

The final insult comes in the concluding scene where Mrs. Helen Givings (Kathy Bates) tells her husband about how the new couple who has moved into the Wheelers’ house seems perfect for their abode. When the husband reminds her that she said much the same when the Wheelers moved in, she claims that she always knew that something was not right about the Wheelers, showing us that she, too, continues to live in bad faith by refusing to treat her Truth-telling son as the normal one (and not the folks she sells houses to). In my vote for the platitudinous scene of the decade, the husband is shown turning down the volume on his hearing aid.

Road should resolutely not be framed as a film about all suburbanites remaining deaf to the truth of their existence, as Mendes’s grandiloquent closing sequence suggests. The film is resolutely not about everyone’s bad faith. One woman, in the great tradition of Ibsen’s Nora Helmer, remains faithful to reality in an unreal setting and demonstrates her sanity despite her insane husband and unfaithful director.

Kirk Boyle has previously contributed a Flick-Off of The Day the Earth Stood Still to Bitch Flicks.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Working Women in Film

Yesterday was Labor Day here in the U.S., and we wanted to highlight some films about working women.

When I sat down to write this post, I thought it would be relatively easy: brainstorm and research a list of movies about working women. But the more I searched, the more frustrating the list became. I kept coming across the same movies. These movies:
  1. 9 to 5
  2. Baby Boom
  3. Boomerang
  4. Broadcast News
  5. Clockwatchers
  6. The Devil Wears Prada
  7. Disclosure
  8. Erin Brockavich
  9. Frozen River
  10. His Girl Friday
  11. Julia
  12. Legally Blonde
  13. Mahogany
  14. Maid in Manhattan
  15. Marnie
  16. Mildred Pierce
  17. Network
  18. North Country
  19. The Proposal
  20. Secretary
  21. Silkwood
  22. The Ugly Truth
  23. Wendy and Lucy
  24. Woman of the Year
  25. Working Girl
A quick glance at the list and the most basic familiarity with the titles (which vary in decade and genre, and range from horribly anti-feminist to some of our personal favorites) reveals some disturbing trends:
The women featured in these films--the protagonists--are overwhelmingly white. Where are the women of color? 
Professions in which women work--every imaginable profession--aren't widely represented. Most of the women here have Careers rather than Jobs, although the careers are heavily in the secretarial /assistant arena. In the newer films, the women who are working class, as Caryn James points out in Slate's XXFactor,  are heavy on criminality. 
The Hollywood working-class heroine is usually a Norma Rae or Erin Brockovich, a reformer making a grand social gesture. The new indie films more authentically depict their characters’ workaday lives. That’s why it’s so disappointing to find them undermining their own heroines, reinforcing an assumption that should have been blasted away long ago—that the poor are morally suspect and quick to steal. 
Nobody gets ruder treatment than career women, who are routinely portrayed as bossy, uptight and utterly without personal lives. What they need, we're supposed to think, is a man. But before they can get one, they must have a mortifying comeuppance.
These observations on my incomplete list lead me to a few questions:

How do we define "movies about working women?" First, I want differentiate movies that feature women who work from movies about working women. The former category could include almost any contemporary movie with a major female character. But, movies that are thematically about working women are a different, rarer thing. They question what it means to be a working woman in a culture that is both dependent upon and hostile to them.

How do we define "working woman?" A working woman is not a rare thing; nearly all women work. Women have professional careers and jobs of all sorts. There are lawyers, teachers, doctors, writers, police...the list is endless. Try to argue that a woman who cares for her children isn't a working woman, even though, I suspect, many people tend to equate work with wage. How do we define work? What does our definition of work and its role in our lives mean for women? Does it mean something different for men? Do you think of yourself as a "worker?"

And a couple of possible conclusions:

Women of color who are workers don't weigh heavily in the American cultural imagination. When women of color appear in films, they tend to be secondary characters in low-paying jobs. Rarely do we see movies about working women who happen to be women of color. Rarely have I seen it, at least, which may be a personal failing.

All in all, I'm not very happy with this list, and I'd love to enlist your help in making it more complete.

Readers, help out! What are some of your favorite movies about working women?

*Remember, we're not just talking about movies that feature women who work, but ones that explore what it means to be a working woman.


UPDATE: Readers have contributed additional films to the list. Here they are so far (we'll continue to add any films you suggest):


All About Eve
The Apartment
Cleo from 5 to 7
Dancer in the Dark
Easter Parade
Gypsy 
Mr. Mom
Places in the Heart
Showgirls
Sunshine Cleaning
Waitress
Winter's Bone