Guest Writer Wednesday: That Glee Photo Shoot

Cross-posted at Fannie's Room and Shakesville.

So, there is this. View the slideshow (warning: might not be safe for some workplaces).

I love Glee. I sometimes am annoyed by it, but generally, I appreciate its ode to geekiness. I also do sometimes like looking at photos of attractive women (and men), if the photos are tastefully done and don't seem like they're completely exploiting the person. And subtlety is good. Subtext, to me, is often sexier than in-your-face displays of sexual availability.

Those disclaimers aside, I could now go on about how these photos at once infantilize adult women by portraying female actresses as sexy schoolgirls while also inappropriately sexualizing these characters, who are supposed to be under the age of 18.

I could also talk about how annoyingly predictable it is that, of all of Glee's diverse cast members, it is the two women who most conform to conventional Hollywood beauty standards who have been granted the empowerful privilege of being sexified for a men's mag. For, despite Glee's idealistic and uplifting message that It's What's On the Inside That Counts, the show's resident Fat Black Girl With A Soulful Voice is noticeably absent from the shoot.

And then there's the fact that it's titled Glee Gone Wild! a not-so-subtle allusion to that paragon of klassy art that made Joe Francis a
pimp
wealthy man. Yeah, I could talk about how that's not my favorite.

We could also explore how the photos are clearly intended for the heterosexual male gaze (or, say, the gaze of a sexually abusive photographer who talks about how his "boner" compels him to want to "dominate" girls) and his sexual fantasies.

And I will talk about that for a minute, actually.

GQ is a men's magazine, so while some lesbians and bisexual women might be titillated by such images, they should not be so naive as to think it is they who are the intended recipients of these images. Finn, the football player, is perhaps the one dude on the show who Average Joes most identify with. In GQ's slideshow, he is almost fully clothed in regular streetwear throughout and often adorned with the Ultimate Straight Male Fantasy of not one, but two, hot chicks who might first make out with each other and then subsequently have sex with him.

As for the women depicted, the images predominately feature the two actors wearing the sexy-lady Halloween costume known as Sexually Available Schoolgirl, thus letting gay men know that this photo shoot about characters in a musical TV show is not intended for them, either.

Which brings me to the self-indulgent, possibly shallow, item I really want to talk about.

See, well, Glee used to be our thing.

The geeks, the losers, the queers, the disabled, the atheists, the dudely jock who likes to sing and dance, the pregnant girl, the teen diva, and the male Asian actor who is supposed to be geeky-cool but who never gets a
speaking part in Glee
solo. The popularity of Glee has been Revenge of the Nerds all the way and for that reason it has been pretty, dare I say, special to a lot of marginalized people and teenagers in all its campy dorkwad glory.

But now, the GQ photo shoot has subverted geekiness to give heterosexual men yet another thing in this world that can be, erm, special to them. And what's supposed to special about Quinn and Rachel in these photos is not their voices, their struggles, their dorkiness, their self-centeredness, their insecurities, or their dreams, but rather, the never-been-done-before message that it's women! Who are hot! And young! And thin! Who men want to fuck!

GQ, on behalf of its straight male readership, flaunts Rachel and Quinn in these photos like Sue Sylvester boastingly displays her ginormous cheerleading trophies as yet another reminder to the geeks that "not everyone can be champions" because some people are meant to dominate and others to be dominated. The photos are the equivalent of a major studio finally producing a Xena movie, writing in that long-awaited for Xena/Gabby actual make-out scene, and then having the two main characters end up married. To men, that is. Because what heterosexual men would like to see happen to two female characters is, let's face it, always what is most important when it comes to TV and film and to hell with any other major fan base.

Glee should know better.

Trying to be popular by catering to the "I only watch shows with multiple major female characters if they're hot" crowd might make a couple of dorks cool for a while, but it's also why the rest us can't have nice things.

Fannie, author of Fannie's Room, who, when not hanging out at her blog, can probably be found planning the homosexual agenda, twirling her mustache, plotting a leftist feminist takeover of the universe, and coordinating the recruitment effort of the lesbian branch of the Gay Mafia. Her days are busy.

Quote of the Day: Rachel Maddow

Below is an excerpt from an interview that Feministing recently conducted with Rachel Maddow. Definitely read the amazing interview in its entirety.

Chloe Angyal: Why did you decide to make a documentary about the assassination of Dr. Tiller, and why did you feel so strongly about doing a larger-scale production about the anti-abortion movement?

Rachel Maddow: When we covered the Tiller murder when it happened, two things became clear. As soon as you heard last May that a doctor had been killed in Kansas, if you knew anything about the fight over reproductive rights and the radical anti-abortion movement, it was instantly clear that it was George Tiller who was killed, even before you heard the name. I had heard that a doctor was killed in Kansas that Sunday, and knew it was Tiller before I saw in the news that it was Tiller. There are not that many things in America, where you know who’s going to get killed, because there’s a campaign against them that includes people who think that violence up to murder is justified against people with whom they disagree or who they’ve vilified. It’s an unusual thing in America – there aren’t a lot of things like that, so that in itself was shocking enough.

But there was also some smaller scale stuff about our covering it in day-to-day news way. We do daily production, we have to do a show five nights a week, and turn around things in a short time frame, and the Tiller murder and the Roeder conviction were things that we covered intensively, but on this day-to-day production schedule. And one of the things that we didn’t report on, or didn’t really follow up on because it wasn’t appropriate to report on in that day-to-day schedule was the fact that there was a ton of celebration online when Tiller was killed. And you don’t blame people for their blog comments, and you don’t make a news story out of anonymous commenters on the internet machine. If you did, you’d constantly be foretelling the end of the world. It’s not really appropriate to cover that as news, that anecdotal reaction. But reading that reaction online, on Twitter and in blog comments, not just in the dark anti-abortion extremist corners of the internet, but actually in relatively mainstream places, I found very unsettling. It stuck with me and it made me want to do something longer form, more investigative and more in-depth about the murder.

The fight over reproductive rights and the tactics of the radical anti-abortion movement are subjects that are a bummer. It’s something that we think of as almost unendurable, I think, to dwell on, to think about, because it seems like it never gets better, and like the other side never pays a price. And one of the things that I don’t think people have really grasps, which is in this documentary, is the story of George Tiller, who was resolute, cheerful, clever, holistically cognizant of what was going on as he was being attacked in this way.

At Tiller’s funeral, they made giant flower arrangement that said “Trust Women,” because that was his motto. You have to understand the other side, the radicals and their tactics, in order to understand what’s going on in the fight over reproductive rights. But in order to understand the way that people survive this, and the way that people can even hope to win these battles in the long run, understanding the way George Tiller did it is underappreciated. We’ve got these interviews of him that have never before run on television, and you see him, coming back to his clinic the day after he was shot and the day after his clinic was bombed, saying, “What we’re doing is legal. What these people are doing, these terroristic tactics and this anarchy, is illegal,” and putting up the sign outside his clinic: “Women need abortions and I’m going to do them.” And the devotion that his staff had to him, because of that resolution and that resilience that he had, that is a story worth telling about how to live in the face of threat, and how to live in the face of people who are coming at you in ways that are sometimes are very painful to think about. This is a painful story, but this is also an instructive story and a cathartic story for people who support reproductive rights.

Guest Writer Wednesday: Film Review Roundup

In lieu of a guest review this week, we're posting links to reviews of a few women-centric films we haven't yet discussed at Bitch Flicks. Enjoy!

**********

The Kids Are All Right

Starring Annette Bening and Julianne Moore

Written by Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg

Directed by Lisa Cholodenko

Roxie Smith Lindemann at Roxie's World writes:

... what finally—and deeply—disappointed us about the film, despite the splendid performances and some pitch-perfect moments of dialogue, were what felt like multiple failures of imagination in its depictions of lesbian sexuality, long-term partnership, and queer family-building. In the end, to use a metaphor in keeping with the film's upscale SoCal look and value system, The Kids Are All Right opts to put new wine in an old narrative bottle, and the result is a vintage that looks good but leaves a nasty, corked aftertaste.

... the film gratifies the straight male fantasy that what every lesbian needs is a good roll in the hay and presents lesbian relationships as cheap imitations of the worst heterosexual marriages: like them in being riven by conflict, frustration, and inequality, unlike them in lacking the almighty penis ...

**********

Winter's Bone

Starring Jennifer Lawrence and John Hawkes

Written by Debra Granik, Anne Rosellini, and Daniel Woodrell (novel)

Directed by Debra Granik

Natalie Wilson at Ms. Magazine Blog writes:

The film offers an extraordinary portrait of the ways class and gender intersect, revealing how the patriarchal Dolly clan abuses not only drugs, but also its female family members. As such, the narrative offers a lesson about the feminization of poverty, illuminating how poverty's vice is harder to escape and more likely to ensnare when one is female.

... this gem of a feminist film has been attacked for the very thing that makes it so unique and so rare: its understated, implicit feminist narrative that rails against patriarchy, violence against women, cold-hearted capitalism and militarism, as well as critiquing the insidious and complex ways females are framed first and foremost as objects for male use and abuse.

Also, be sure to check out Part I and Part II of Lisa R. Pruitt's posts at Saltlaw on "Winter's Bone" and the Limits of White Privilege.

**********

Easy A

Starring Emma Stone, Amanda Bynes, and Patricia Clarkson

Written by Bert V. Royal

Directed by Will Gluck

MaryAnn Johanson at FlickFilosopher writes:

This wonderful, hilarious, subversive film is a smart, witty smackdown to the slew of "dweeby teenaged boys on a quest to lose their virginity" movies we're currently under barrage from, not to mention the general unfairness of how the universe treats women who own their sexuality. Easy A overtly shames the slut-shaming of our culture, the bizarre pressures that tells us girls and women that we must be sexy all the time, but for Christ's sake, don't actually have sex—except under certain strict conditions—unless you want to be labeled a slut, and humiliated for it.

... As satire goes, this is brilliant stuff. As an exploration of the tangled web of popularity and individuality teenaged girls have to navigate, and do so at more peril than boys do, it's damn nigh unparalleled. More's the pity.

Disembodied Women Take Four: ... Look Closer

The first installments of Disembodied Women focused on film posters that use close-ups of women's backsides and bare legs to promote movies, and one that illustrated the removal of the woman's head entirely. This post gives examples of film advertising that uses women's airbrushed stomachs, and in several instances, divorces pregnant women from the rest of their bodies. (Because we all know, once a women becomes pregnant, she ceases to exist.)

As if reducing women to a collection of nothing more than unrealistically portrayed body parts weren't enough, the accompanying taglines of these particular film posters also caught my attention.

The Women and 27 Dresses don't use a catchy tagline on the posters shown below. Maybe the designers of the posters felt that random words shaped into a woman's torso would suffice, considering these two films exclusively target women audiences. And what do audiences comprised of women want to see in The Women? Nouns, apparently: Bonding Joy Jealous Kids Tears Struggles Laughter Thighs Balance Intuition Fighters Passion Elegance Shoes ...

With the 27 Dresses poster, what else could we possibly need? She's already been made into a fucking dress. (Get it? The movie is called 27 Dresses, so Katherine Heigl's body is like totally a dress. Neat! Way to objectify a woman by turning her into an actual object.)

Juno's "Due this holiday season" is the least offensive of the remaining taglines, again because the advertisers perceive no marketing bonus in sexualizing her ... she's a cute little indie hipster weirdo. Still, the fact that the poster emphasizes the pregnancy, rather than the woman who's actually pregnant (except for the nametag, ha), sends the message that the pregnant woman is no longer as important as Her Pregnancy. (Think Hollywood starlets and the constant Baby Bump Watch.)

The other two posters depicting a pregnant woman each emphasize two men, the first one showing two men in a photo, and the other showing two men smiling ridiculously while cradling the woman's stomach. Also note the ... what, shaving cream smiley face? ... painted on her stomach.

Then the taglines.

In Misconceptions, we get: "Good things come in other people's packages." Um, okay. Whose "package" are they referring to here exactly? The woman-as-baby-making-machine who will deliver a package in nine months? Or one of the two men apparently involved in providing sperm? With his ... package? What the hell is happening here.

In the poster for The Brothers Solomon, they just come out and say it: "They want to put a baby in you." Great! A film about a woman's pregnancy that's actually somehow about two men. Thanks, Hollywood.

The remaining posters that incorporate taglines:

Tomcats: "The last man standing gets the kitty."

Swimming Pool: "On the surface, all is calm."

Threads: "The fashion world ... unzipped."

American Beauty: " ... look closer"

The Babysitters: "These girls mean business."

A couple of them might not be so terrible if they weren't accompanied by the image of a woman's bare stomach. But since they are, what differentiates the descriptions of these Hollywood films from the descriptions of soft-core porn?

Guest Writer Wednesday: Let This Feminist Vampire In

Cross-posted at Ms. Magazine

Warning: spoilers

Vampires have become so common in contemporary texts that they have lost some of their bite. With most of them falling into the emo, brooding, love-struck and angst-ridden variety (Edward of Twilight, Damon of The Vampire Diaries and Bill of True Blood), the female vampire featured in Let Me In (the U.S. remake of the Swedish film Let the Right One In) presents a refreshing change. Abby (Chloe Moretz), the 12-year-old lonely-yet-resilient vampire in a world populated by male violence, is a feminist vampire worth rooting for.

While the original film was also excellent, it lacked some of the more overt gendered analysis of the U.S. version. Though this may be due to discrepancies in translation (I saw the film both in Swedish with English subtitles and dubbed in English), the bullying theme running throughout the narrative was framed very differently in the Swedish version. In it, the young male protagonist, Oskar, was repeatedly told to “squeal like a pig” by his tormentors. In contrast, the male protagonist in the U.S. version, now named Owen (played by Kodi Smit-McPhee), is attacked by bullies with taunts such as  “Hey, little girl” and “Are you a little girl?”

Owen’s burgeoning friendship with the young vampire Abby (named Eli in the original) furthers this gendered meme when she advises him “You have to hit back … hit them back harder than you dare.” When she promises to help him, he says “But you’re a girl,” exhibiting the belief the bullies have instilled in him that girls are scared and weak. Even though an earlier scene showed Owen smiling as he views a girl punching the lead bully in the arm, this approval of female resistance has not erased the anti-girl taunts the bullies have polluted his brain with.

With an existence shrouded by his parents’ ugly divorce, the film suggests Owen has turned to voyeurism as an escape from his prison-like existence at both home and school. As Owen watches the world from his bedroom telescope and from behind his wide-eyed gaze, we see the daily injustices humans enact upon one another: bedroom fights, schoolyard torture, sibling abuse, interpersonal violence. Much of this violence is linked to codes of masculinity, including the muscling-up men do to create bodies capable of violence.

In comparison, vampire Abby’s thirst for blood becomes less violent and a lesser evil: Killing is something she resorts to in order to survive, in contrast to it being a sport (as with the bullies) or a means to secure and keep a mate (as with her “father” figure). The everyday violence in the film is more horrific and has more lasting effects than Abby’s monstrous thirst.

Unfortunately, the opportunity to further the suggestion that “average humans” are plenty monstrous is rendered less horrific in the American version by removing the references/suggestions of pedophilia in the original novel and film. Nevertheless, the remake provocatively suggests that our cultural proclivity to focus on exceptionally violent crimes of the “stranger danger” variety allows enduring, daily acts of violence to go comparatively unnoticed. Owen has adopted this view as well–he never mentions evil until he learns Abby is a vampire, failing to see that what the bullies do to him is actually more evil.

Though the film drips with gendered representations (although ones not as graphic, nor as queer as the original novel, as discussed here), reviews such as those in The New York Times and at MovieFone offer no gender analysis–an omission that seems particularly odd given the misogynistic bullying the film depicts as well as its focus on a girl vampire, a rarity in our male-dominated vampire tales of late.

To find such analysis, one most go back to reviews of the original film, including here at Feminist Review. Noting the tendency for a “queer sensibility about female vampires in film, whether explicit or subtextual,” Loren Krywanczyk argues the “gender non-normativity” of the two young protagonists presents us with a queering of gender as well as of childhood sexuality. Such queer readings are even more apt if Abby/Eli’s centuries-earlier castration (cut in the American film and only alluded to in the Swedish version) is taken into account.

While there has been much rallying against the necessity of remaking the film to appease Americans subtitle-avoidance (as here), I feel this new version offers yet another useful spin on a very complex tale–one a bit less queer but also one that  links the cultural disdain for femininity to the ubiquity of horrific daily acts of violence. If only our mainstream news media would similarly let that argument in.

Natalie Wilson, PhD is a literature and women’s studies scholar, blogger, and author. She teaches at Cal State San Marcos and specializes in the areas of gender studies, feminism, feminist theory, girl studies, militarism, body studies, boy culture and masculinity, contemporary literature, and popular culture. She is author of the blogs Professor, what if…? and Seduced by Twilight. She is a proud feminist mom of two feminist kids (one daughter, one son) and is an admitted pop-culture junkie. She previously contributed posts to Bitch Flicks about The United States of Tara, Nurse Jackie, and Lost.

The Social Network Roundup

Most of the commentary out there on The Social Network focuses on its awesomeness and front-runner status for this year's Best Picture Academy Award. Plus, the film won its opening weekend's box office, even though it's numbers were lower than anticipated. While it very well may be a brilliantly-made film, one thing we can't ignore is the film's women. Other people are talking about the film's misogyny, too, which raises this question:

Is The Social Network reinforcing the misogyny of its subject(s), or is it specifically offering their attitudes about women as critique?

While I hope it's the latter, much of my reading never makes clear that the film rises above the attitudes of its ivy-league elites. An elitist attitude also seems to creep into articles that criticize  those who note the film's misogyny, dismissing complaints about yet another film that focuses on upper-class white men as unintelligent.

Here are some of our findings. If you've written about the women of The Social Network, or have read something good that we missed, please leave your links in the comments section.

Rebecca Davis O'Brien's "The Social Network's Female Props" @ The Daily Beast:

Complaining about misogyny in modern blockbuster cinema is about as productive as lamenting Facebook’s grip on our society. But what is the state of things if a film that keeps women on the outer circles of male innovation enjoys such critical acclaim; indeed, is heralded as the “defining” story of our age? What are we to do with a great film that makes women look so awful?

Tracy Clark-Flory's "Female programmers on "The Social Network" @ Salon Broadsheet

But, oh, are there groupies: They aggressively undo belt buckles in bathroom stalls, take bong hits while the boys do their important coding work and rip open their blouses so that coke can be snorted off their flat little tummies. They are useless on the technical and business front, as is made clear in a scene where two groupies look on as Zuckerberg has a sudden revelation and begins barking orders to his all-male team. The doe-eyed coeds ask if there is anything they can do to help out -- and the question itself is a punch line. Even a nubile Facebook intern who presumably does have some technical abilities is introduced only to party with Facebook's smooth-talking president, Sean Parker (played by Justin Timberlake), at a Stanford frat party. The women are trophies for these male history-makers.

Laurie Penny's "Facebook, capitalism and geek entitlement" @ New Statesman

The only roles for women in this drama are dancing naked on tables at exclusive fraternity clubs, inspiring men to genius by spurning their carnal advances and giving appreciative blowjobs in bathroom stalls. This is no reflection on the personal moral compass of Sorkin, who is no misogynist, but who understands that in rarefied American circles of power and privilege, women are still stage-hands, and objectification is hard currency.

The territory of this modern parable is precisely objectification: not just of women, but of all consumers. In what the film's promoters describe as a "definitively American " story of entrepreneurship, Zuckerberg becomes rich because, as a social outsider, he can see the value in reappropriating the social as something that can be monetised. This is what Facebook is about, and ultimately what capitalist realism is about: life as reducible to one giant hot-or-not contest, with adverts.

Irin Carmon's The Social Network, Where Women Never Have Ideas @ Jezebel

Hollywood's solution to Facebook's unsexy creation story was familiar: Add women as sluts, stalkers, or ballbusters. With very few exceptions, girls don't even know how to properly play video games or get high off a bong, and they're gold-diggers or humiliating bitches, and they certainly never come up with anything of value on their own. The result is a fictional Harvard as crudely misogynistic as Hollywood — which, thankfully, it actually wasn't — and a world in which the best a woman can hope for is to have her rejection create as meaningful a legacy.

Melissa Silverstein's "The Social Network" @ Women and Hollywood

The film depicts a world where women are crazy groupies, there for amusement, to give you blow jobs in bathrooms at parties, and to snort coke off of, but not to be taken seriously.  The tech world has long been known as a world that favors guys, just this week twitter was all “atwitter” about a women in tech panel that occurred at the TechCrunch Disrupt event in SF.

I guess that is one reason why it is a perfect movie for Hollywood today.   I know there are women doing some seriously important and great jobs in tech, just like I know that there are women doing some seriously important and great jobs in the films business. But we all know that the tech guys are more visible and the movie guys are more visible. 

Steven Colbert's interview with Aaron Sorkin @ The Colbert Report

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Aaron Sorkin
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes 2010 Election March to Keep Fear Alive

Jennifer Armstrong's "'The Social Network' has a woman problem" @ Entertainment Weekly's Pop Watch

The Social Network has turned out to be the rare pop cultural phenomenon that is everything we hoped it would be. Smart, riveting, and very much of our time, it provides endless fodder for intellectual dissection and further exploration. The fact that it has become so all-engrossing, however, makes one glaring fact about it all the more disturbing: Its downright appalling depiction of women.

Roxanne Samer's "Review: The Social Network" @ Gender Across Borders

Previously, I have argued that in some cases representations of sexism and racism can serve as political critiques of the mistreatment they depict. One could claim that Zuckerberg and his peers’ objectifying of women and fetishization of Asian women in particular is presented in the film as in poor taste. The film is by no means casting Zuckerberg, never mind Parker, as an innocent angel. But in the end one must ask: are these trysts etc. depicted as deplorable or as typical and tolerable 20-something boy behavior?  My intuition says it’s the latter. 

JOS' "Social Network sexism" @ Feministing

The film follows an interesting pattern I’ve noticed in other work by contemporary male filmmakers (Inception as an example) – it offers compelling insight into sexism while also displaying a sexist perspective in its storytelling.

Cynthia Fuchs' "'The Social Network': Fincher and Sorkin's Story of Obsession" @ Pop Matters

Based on Ben Mezrich’s 2009 book, The Accidental Billionaires, and scripted by Aaron Sorkin, the film is already renowned for its breakneck dialogue (especially when Mark speaks, condescendingly and oh-so-cruelly). However fictionalized that dialogue might be (the book imagines conversations as it recounts events mainly from Eduardo’s perspective, and includes luridish party and sex scenes), it represents here an attitude that makes its own political and cultural point, that men and boys in privileged positions tend to see the world in ways that benefits them, that reinforces their privilege.

Jenni Miller's "'The Social Network' and Sexism: Does the Film Treat Women Unfairly?" @ Cinematical

We're given a trio of wholly unreliable narrators who do see women as props and prizes and ugly feminists out to get them. They're emblematic of all the things that the fictional Mark Zuckerberg wants and feels are out of his reach, like the Harvard social clubs. Even Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) questions whether or not Zuckerberg's screwing him over all boils down to the fact that Saverin got into one of Harvard's fancy clubs where WASPs cheer on half-naked women making out with each other.

David Ehrlich's "5 Reasons Why 'The Social Network' Does Not Define This Generation" also @ Cinematical

5. It's a film about men in a generation that's also about women (I hope).

Alison Willmore's "The (Homo)Social Network" @ IFC

The suggestion that Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher had an obligation to insert a token "strong lady" character in order to make their film more demographically friendly or underline how their own intentions are separate from their characters is condescending to audiences. The film world still leans incredibly toward male perspectives, male characters and male audiences, and the way to fix that is by supporting and encouraging women making and working in movies, not by implying the need for an artificial quota of "go girl"ness.

Dana Stevens' "Is the Facebook movie sexist?" @ Slate

The Social Network presents an odd paradox in its vision of the war between the sexes (which, like all the conflict in this movie, is a real war, brutal and unattenuated). It's smarter about the way women circulate as objects of male competition, predation, and fantasy than it is about the motivations of individual female characters. The film's "women problem" doesn't lie in the fact that many of the women in it (with the exception of Erica Albright and the lawyer played by Rashida Jones) are shallow, self-serving jerks—so are most of the men. But any film capable of putting on-screen as complex and fascinating a jerk as Jesse Eisenberg's Mark Zuckerberg should be smart enough to do the same for the ladies.

Guest Writer Wednesday: The 40% Figure

Cross posted at Wellywood Woman
 

There’s so much discussion about the Bechdel Test now (see links below for some examples). I love it all, am interested that men are writing about the test. AND I relate to @marnen’s tweet: "I'm feeling snarky enough to propose the Laibow-Koser test: can 2 female writers have a conversation that doesn't mention Bechdel test? :)".

And then on Facebook, Scarlett Shepard from the San Francisco Women’s Film Festival (@sfwff) provided the link to an Indiewire article, Summer Box Office Report: Women Rule The Art Houses, by Peter Knegt.

Peter Knegt explains that men directed every one of the 22 summer 'Hollywood' films that earned more than $50m, and women actors received top billing in only five, including the three that women ‘flocked’ to: The Twilight Saga: Eclipse, Eat, Pray, Love and Sex & the City 2. But in the ten top-grossing ‘specialty’ releases* "women dominated: in audience seats, in front of the camera, and, perhaps to an unprecedented degree, behind it."

Women directed four (40%) of these films: Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids Are All Right (earned the most to date, $19m, way ahead of Cyrus with $7m); Debra Granik’s Winter’s Bone, Nicole Holofcener’s Please Give, and Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg’s Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work. In two more, I Am Love (with Tilda Swinton) and The Girl Who Played With Fire (Noomi Rapace) women were also lead characters. I’m interested in the 40% figure, cross-referencing it to the percentage of women directors in contention for this year’s Australian Film Institute’s awards. Has there been some deep shift, not only in women as audiences—the ‘over-25 women’ quadrant was the largest U.S. cinema audience in 2009—but also in women’s participation as writers and directors of feature films?

(And two of the ten top-grossing films, Joan Rivers and Babies are documentaries. Which makes me wonder, again, why—as far as I know—no-one in the U.S. has yet picked up Topp Twins: Untouchable Girls. It’s done so well at festivals there and it seems such a no-brainer.)

And I’m curious. Yes, more women writers and directors are making successful ‘specialty’ releases. Yes, a high proportion of these releases have women as leads. Yes, women are going to see these films. But men directed all of the Hollywood films that women ‘flocked’ to see. Any minute now, Hollywood is going to decide to exploit further the potential of women as audiences. But are men always going to be the directors (and writers) they choose for big-budget projects to attract women viewers and to make a lot of money? What would it take for 40% of next year’s $50m- grossing films to be women-directed, and have women as central characters?

*which opened in under 1,000 screens and were released by an independent producer or studio subsidiary

LINKS

I am woman. Hear me…Please!, by Mark Harris. He mentions QUOTAS

Just say yes to Mad Men, by Sophie Cunningham in Meanjin’s SPIKE. Has CLIPS, which I always love, including the classic Bechdel Test clip.

Is the Bechdel Test Overlooking Feminist Films? by Aymar Jean Christian


Marian Evans is a cultural activist filmmaker who holds New Zealand's first PhD in Creative Writing. She is currently realising her thesis feature script "Development," about a group of women filmmakers, set in an imaginary corner of Wellywood, New Zealand's Hollywood. She'd love suggestions about brands that might like to partner the project, and welcomes introductions to anyone who can help.

Director Spotlight: Agnès Varda

Agnes Varda

I came to Agnès Varda late and by accident. A couple of years ago, scanning Netflix for something interesting to watch, I found The Gleaners and I, and determined it was one of my favorite movies in a very long time. Only then did I look her up and learn how famous and influential she is—something I would have already known if I’d formally studied film. What I love about Varda is her playful intellectualism. She doesn’t take herself too seriously—and it shows in her films—yet she treats her film subjects with love and great care. Her protagonists are often women who live interesting, difficult, and complicated lives.

In March, Varda was included in Paste Magazine's profile of the 50 best living directors.

Varda’s consuming interest in film as a medium for artistic and sensory inquiry, rather than a mode of entertainment, is a quintessentially French trait. It is also, for this lover and maker of images that live beyond their frame, a trusty bohemian credo.

I have a bit of a difficult time with French New Wave films; while I can see they are beautiful pieces of art, they don’t always capture me—I can’t quite get inside them. They don’t have the kind of heart I’m looking for in a movie. Varda’s films do—they’re beautiful on the surface (form) and below it (content), and manage to do all of this without a hint of pretension. This is one of the reasons why she is my favorite filmmaker. Here is a sampling of her films.

La Pointe-Court (1955)

La Pointe Courte, Varda's first film and the film attributed to launching the French New Wave, stars Silvia Monfort and Philippe Noiret who bring a stark formalism to the story of their conflicted love in a scenic seaside village. Shot in high contrast black and white, La Pointe Courte is filled with odd visual and sonic edits that lend this film an otherworldly, Carl Dreyer-esque quality though it points to Varda's future directing tact, namely making films that scrutinize tragic personal relationships with deep compassion and zeal.

Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962)

Through an arresting use of Paris as both visual centerpiece and reflection of a woman’s inner journey, Varda paints an enduring portrait of a woman’s evolution from a shallow and superstitious child-woman to a person who can feel and express shock and anguish and finally empathy.

Daguerréotypes (1976)

This is a simple act of quotidian commerce, the kind of everyday task that Varda will return to again and again in Daguerréotypes as her manner of repetition elevates the mundane to a method of establishing community. We continue to meet other shopkeepers: a butcher, breadmaker, a laundress, and tailor. She shoots her neighbors as an extended family, with richly-hued still portraits subsequently made living through interviews.

Vagabond (1985)

''She's free,'' one character says of Mona. ''She scares me because she repels me,'' says another. Such blunt statements do not set the film's tone, but force us to ask whether Mona is a determined free spirit or just a lost soul.

The Beaches of Agnés (2008)

[I]t is at once an illustration of the fine art of foraging and an autobiographical portrait, narrated by its self-described “little old lady, pleasantly plump.” (She’s now 81.) As before, Ms. Varda is picking through the world, close to home and far afield, finding images that please her and give her pause, like her wrinkled hand, the one not holding the camera, that she scrutinizes with rue if no obvious regret. But here the emphasis is on her own life and the images and memories that, with time, have blurred together.

The Flick Off: Fantastic Mr. Fox

After hearing repeatedly that Fantastic Mr. Fox is Wes Anderson’s best film, I gave it a try. I’m not the biggest Anderson fan—I generally find his aesthetic too precious, his characters over-privileged bores, and his daddy issues repetitive and tiresome—but it seemed to me that stop-motion animation might be the ideal medium to capture his intentions.

And, before I say anything else, let me say that the look of the film was great. It was fittingly retro and playful for (an overgrown man-child like) Anderson and (the all-style-no-substance preferences of) his ideal audience. The style, however, isn't enough to garner the near universally-glowing reviews Fox has received. If you look at the film with anything other than squinty eyes and plugged ears, the problems are immediately evident.

Mrs. Fox. Meryl Streep voices the only female character in the entire cast. Okay, there’s a love interest to bat her eyelashes at the boys, but I don’t even think she had a line. Not only is the lone female character a wife and mother—seen cooking and husband-scolding more than any other activity—but also is a waste of a talented actress. Commenter gmarv on A.O. Scott’s NYT review puts it well:

Note to Wes: if your one female character (wife + mother) is supposed to be a professional artist, could you at least show her working during the DAY in her STUDIO, not cooking all day and painting outside at night with her kid and husband sitting around her?

It's disappointing that this film incorporates Dahl's lack of interest in women (that veers close to misogyny). I guess it's not that much different from other Wes Anderson films that way...but with a little more imagination it could have been so much better.

“Lack of interest in women” seems to put it mildly. Anderson’s films do typically have problems with—and lack of (interest in)—women (the topless intern from The Life Aquatic comes to mind). But, not a single one of the creatures in the big plot to save the Fox family could have been female? Seriously?

While I’m not typically a stickler for accurate adaptations, Amy Biancolli of The Houston Chronicle points out some poignant changes from Roald Dahl’s novel:

1) In the original, Mrs. Fox was complicit all along. 2) Mr. Fox never went on the wagon. 3) Mr. and Mrs. Fox had four cubs, not one little nutcase, and Dahl made no mention of a yoga-bending super-nephew. 4) I'm pretty sure the point of the story wasn't Mr. Fox's flagging self-esteem or his strained relationship with his son. But this is cinema in the time of Oprah, when Reductio ad navelgazing is the inevitable narrative arc.

Wouldn’t Mrs. Fox have been so much more interesting and dynamic if she hadn’t been the domesticating, shaming force in the man’s (and boy’s) life? If she actually remained a person after marrying and having a child, who struggles with being a “wild animal” too? The tiny (ha) complication of keeping Mrs. Fox complicit would have done wonders for the story.

Wouldn’t it also have been great if Anderson—who, despite all my negative comments, does have directorial talent—had changed course just a little bit and not made a movie about a strained father-son relationship? Talent grows only when it’s challenged, and perhaps that’s why I keep giving Anderson another chance. After Fox, though, I’m not sure he gets another shot.