Monday, January 31, 2011

Best Picture Nominee Review Series: Toy Story 3

Toy Story is the fourth film featured in our series of reviews leading up to the 2011 Academy Awards ceremony.  Be sure to check out our reviews of Black Swan, Inception, and Winter's Bone.




Third Time Still Not the Charm for Toy Story's Female Characters

This guest post also appears at the Ms. Magazine Blog and Professor, what if ...? 

Toy Story 3 opens on a woman-empowerment high, with Mrs. Potato-Head displaying mad train-robbing skills and cowgirl Jessie skillfully steering her faithful horse Bullseye in the ensuing chase. And that’s the end of that: From there on, the film displays the same careless sexism as its predecessors.

Out of seven new toy characters at the daycare where the majority of the narrative takes place, only one is female–the purple octopus whose scant dialogue is voiced by Whoopi Goldberg. Although two of the toys in the framing scenes with Bonnie, the girl who ultimately becomes the toys’ new owner, are female, the ratio is still far worse than the average in children’s media of one-female-to-every-three-males (documented by The Geena Davis Institute on Gender and Media). And these ratios have a real effect: Decades of research shows that kids who grow up watching sexist shows are more likely to internalize stereotypical ideas of what men and women are supposed to be like.

Toy Story’s latest installment revolves around now-17-year-old Andy leaving college. His mom (who has yet to be given a name) insists (in rather nagging fashion) that he store or get rid of all his “junk.” The bag of toys mistakenly ends up in the trash, resulting in the toys landing in a prison-like daycare (way to turn the knife on working parent guilt).

In typical Pixar fashion, male characters dominate the film. Though it ends with young Bonnie as the happy new owner of the toys, making way for more sequels, Woody would have to become Wanda, and Buzz become Betty, in order for the series to break Pixar’s male-only protagonist tradition (think Wall-E, A Bug’s Life, Cars, Monster, Inc, The Incredibles).

Bo Peep is inexplicably missing in this third installment, leaving even fewer female figures. Barbie has a larger role this time around though, as an overly emotional, often crying girlie-girl. She is also a traitor of sorts, breaking away from the gang to go live with Ken in his dream house.

As for Ken, he is depicted as a closeted gay fashionista with a fondness for writing in sparkly purple ink with curly-Q flourishes. Played for adult in-jokes, Ken huffily insists, “I am not a girl toy, I am not!” when an uber-masculine robot toy suggests so during a heated poker match. Pairing homophobia with misogyny, the jokes about Ken suggest that the worst things a boy can be are either a girl or a homosexual.

Barbie ultimately rejects Ken and is instrumental in Woody and company’s escape, but her hyper-feminine presentation, coupled with Ken’s not-yet-out-of-the-toy-cupboard persona, make this yet another family movie that perpetuates damaging gender and sexuality norms.

While the girls in the audience are given the funny and adventurous Jessie, they are also taught women talk too much: Flirty Mrs. Potato-Head, according to new character Lotso, needs her mouth taken off. Another lesson is that when women do say something smart, it’s so rare as to be funny (laughter ensues when Barbie says “authority should derive from the consent of the governed”), and that even when they are smart and adventurous, what they really care about is nabbing themselves a macho toy to love (as when Jessie falls for the Latino version of Buzz–a storyline, that, yes, also plays on the “Latin machismo lover” stereotype).

As for non-heterosexual audience members, they learn that being gay is so funny that the best thing to do is hide one’s sexuality by playing heterosexual, and to laugh along when others mock homosexuality or non-normative masculinity.

Yes, the film is funny and clever. Yes, it is enjoyable and fresh. Yes, it contains the typical blend of witty dialogue as well as a visual feast-for-the-eyes. But, no, Pixar has not left its male-heterocentric scripts behind. Nor has it moved beyond the “everyone is white and middle class” suburban view of the world. Perhaps we should expect no more from Pixar, especially now that Disney, the animated instiller of gender and other norms (a great documentary on this is Mickey Mouse Monopoly), now owns the studio. Sadly, Toy Story 3 indicates that animated films from Pixar will not be giving us a “whole new world,” at least when it comes to gender norms, anytime soon.

[Note: the comments on this post at the Ms. Magazine Blog make a great companion to this review!]

Natalie Wilson, PhD is a literature and women's studies scholar, blogger, and author. She teaches at Cal State San Marcos and specializes in 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. Her favorite food is chocolate.  Her other guest posts at Bitch Flicks include Let Me In, Lost, Nurse Jackie, and The United States of Tara.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Oscar Acceptance Speeches, 2006

Leading up to the 2011 Oscars, we'll showcase the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches by Best Actress winners and Best Supporting Actress winners. (Note: In most cases, you'll have to click through to YouTube in order to watch the speeches, as embedding has been disabled at the request of copyright owners.)

Best Actress Nominees: 2006

Felicity Huffman, Transamerica
Keira Knightley, Pride & Prejudice
Charlize Theron, North Country
Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line

Best Supporting Actress Nominees: 2006

Amy Adams, Junebug
Catherine Keener, Capote
Frances McDormand, North Country
Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener
Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain

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Reese Witherspoon wins Best Actress for her performance in Walk the Line.




Rachel Weisz wins Best Supporting Actress for her performance in The Constant Gardener.

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See nominees and winners in previous years: 199019911992199319941995199619971998199920002001200220032004, 2005

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Oscar Acceptance Speeches, 2005

Leading up to the 2011 Oscars, we'll showcase the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches by Best Actress winners and Best Supporting Actress winners. (Note: In most cases, you'll have to click through to YouTube in order to watch the speeches, as embedding has been disabled at the request of copyright owners.)

Best Actress Nominees: 2005

Annette Bening, Being Julia
Catalina Sandino Moreno, Maria Full of Grace
Imelda Staunton, Vera Drake
Hilary Swank, Million Dollar Baby
Kate Winslet, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Best Supporting Actress Nominees: 2005

Cate Blanchett, The Aviator
Laura Linney, Kinsey
Virginia Madsen, Sideways
Sophie Okonedo, Hotel Rwanda
Natalie Portman, Closer

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Hilary Swank wins Best Actress for her performance in Million Dollar Baby.




Cate Blanchett wins Best Supporting Actress for her performance in The Aviator.

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See nominees and winners in previous years: 19901991199219931994199519961997199819992000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Review in Conversation: Black Swan

Sometimes a movie needs more than a review--it needs a discussion. See our previous Reviews in Conversation here and here.

Nina is cracking...
Amber's Take:
There's a lot to say about Black Swan, and the more I think about it, the fewer definitive, and perhaps positive things I have to say. Before getting too ahead of myself, though, I must say that the performances--particularly Natalie Portman's--were amazing, the dance sequences were compelling and seemed very well done, and the film was, overall, visually stunning. This is the most intensely visceral film I've seen in some time, and simply remembering certain moments still causes me to cringe. I loved the image of the goose flesh appearing on Nina Sayers' (Portman's) skin, as she began to physically embody her role as the Swan Queen, and the nod to Cronenberg's The Fly when thick, black feathers began to sprout from Nina's skin (as the hairs sprouted from Jeff Goldblum's Seth Brundle during his physical transformation into, well, a fly).

On a literal level, the film seems to be about the transformation of an artist--in this case, a dancer--into a role. It also is, very specifically, about the physical rigor of ballet, and the lengths an artist will go to in perfecting her performance. Ballet is a physically grueling art form that seems diametrically at odds with the female body. Like gymnasts, from what I understand, a ballet dancer must fight against a mature woman's body, maintain an impossibly thin-yet-strong physique, and endure at times severe physical pain. On a more metaphoric level, this is what society expects all women to endure, though I don't think we can read the white swan/black swan as a direct metaphor of the virgin/whore dichotomy or expectation for women in our culture. There are several other things going on in the film, one of the most problematic being (s)mother love.

What on Earth is Barbara Hershey's character doing in this film? In a near-deranged, over-the-top role, we see a woman who couldn't make it out of the corps during her own ballet career, and who blames her daughter for the unhappy end to that career. Erica Sayers infantalizes her daughter, dominates her life, pummels her with guilt for under-appreciating her (the cake scene, anyone?), and generally serves as the movie's biggest villain--worse than an artistic director who sexually assaults and torments Nina. Oh, that's nothing compared to Mommy Dearest. So what do we make of Nina's mother--and why was she even in this movie?

Stephanie's Take:
While I share some of your concerns with (s)mother love, and Barbara Hershey’s character in general, I really enjoyed the film. So before I respond to some of the issues you mention, let me say what I liked so much about Black Swan:

First, a fairly obvious but no less interesting way to read the film is as an indictment of prescribed femininity.  Nina’s entire existence is wrapped up in an attempt to be perfect, whether it’s striving to be the perfect ballerina or the perfect daughter. We see what her breakfast looks like, grapefruit and a hardboiled egg (if I remember correctly), and as you mention, the struggle to maintain a child’s body resonates throughout. While that may be particularly important for careers in ballet and gymnastics, it’s also our society’s ideal body type for all women, so I very much like that Black Swan delves into (however metaphorically) the potential consequences of restrictive and unattainable “perfection” in women. 

When Nina can’t live up to the casting director’s Perfect Ballerina or her mother’s Perfect Daughter, she basically loses her shit. Thomas (the casting director, played by Vincent Cassel) wants her to embrace her sexuality, to seduce the audience with it (channeling the Black Swan). Erica (her mother) wants her to remain childlike and innocent (channeling the White Swan), and both Thomas and Erica represent the double-edged sword that all women face: be sexy, but not slutty; be sweet, but not a total prude. In the words of Usher, “We want a lady in the street but a freak in the bed.”) 

When Nina can’t fulfill both these roles simultaneously, as much as she tries, the film shows us her breakdown: her body betrays her in literal ways, with bleeding toes and scratch marks that suggest self-mutilation (another hallmark characteristic of young women struggling to cope with similar stress); and her body betrays her in ways that suggest hallucinations: pulling “feathers” from her flesh, or ripping off her cuticles, only to discover moments later that her hand is fine. I found that part of the film, the hallucinatory transformation into the Black Swan, super interesting because it seems to happen to her accidentally—as she experiences the transformation, she doesn’t understand what’s happening, and it frightens her. 

In fact, I would argue that her body isn’t her own at any time during the film. Thomas wants to control her body in a sexual way, often groping her and kissing her against her will. And when Nina attempts to explore her sexuality, to take ownership of it through masturbation, she suddenly realizes her mother is in the room (to the gasps and laughter of audiences nationwide), and she buries herself under her covers like a child. Erica constantly explores Nina’s body either by looking at her or physically touching her, often insisting that she remove her clothes—creating an inappropriateness in their relationship that I don’t quite know what to do with. 

Regardless, I like that Black Swan implies that these ideals for women can’t actually exist without women destroying themselves in the process of attaining them. We live in a society where women’s bodies exist as pleasure-objects for men, as dismembered parts to sell products, as images to be dissected, airbrushed, made fun of, all under a government that continues to chip away at women's rights to bodily autonomy. In that kind of environment, when does a woman’s body ever feel entirely her own? Black Swan sets up that metaphor quite well, asking the viewer to experience Nina’s struggle to live up to society’s ridiculous expectations for women through several cringe-worthy moments.

That rocks. But I wonder if that effort gets trumped by some of the more objectifying scenes, like the “lesbian sex scene” and the masturbation scene. Is it possible to comment on society’s expectations of women and beauty without also objectifying women in the process? Does Aronofsky linger a little too long at times? And, in response to your second paragraph, why can’t we read the Black Swan/White Swan as a direct metaphor for the virgin/whore dichotomy?  (Oh, and yeah, I’ll throw it back to you—what the hell is happening with Nina and her mom?)

Amber’s Take:
You make a lovely and convincing reading of the film as an exploration of the impossibility of society’s contemporary take on womanhood. I think my resistance to this reading—or, more specifically, my dissatisfaction of this being the ultimate reading—has everything to do with Erica Sayers, though neither of us is certain how to exactly read her character. More on that in a moment (ha ha). Though meaning doesn’t end (or begin, necessarily) with a director’s intention, I also think this reading gives Aronofsky too much credit; in other words, I don’t know that the film is that good—that altrustic, that interested in women’s experience—or that cohesive.

Aronofsky has a clear interest in the limits of the human body. While watching Black Swan, I thought about his previous movie, The Wrestler, and the ways in which that solitary person pushes his body to limits most us of (those of us who aren’t professional wrestlers or ballerinas) find absurd and painful to even see. We could extend our conversation indefinitely by bringing in other movies as objects of comparison (The Red Shoes), but I do see some structural similarities between Black Swan and The Wrestler that warrant at least a cursory comparison--and I'm sure others have done this comparative work in reviews around the web.

An important question to ask when we’re trying to figure out Black Swan is this: How do we see Nina Sayers at the end of the film? Is she a victim of her society/mother/creative director? Or is she victorious, in that she conquered the perceived limits of her body to achieve her own stated goal: to be perfect in her Swan Lake performance. (Did we see the protagonist of The Wrestler as victorious or defeated in his final leap?) Nina masters her performance, nailing the Black Swan to the point she imagines her arms transforming into wings. This was the most thrilling sequence in the film—her performance was beautiful, and much more impressive than any of the other dance sequences. Is the Black Swan a villain? In the ballet, yes, and the White Swan is the tragic heroine. Films generally tend to do a better job of making the villain more compelling than the hero, but if both roles are (metaphoric) unattainable goals, how do we read those final moments?

It’s not that I disagree with your reading—I really want that to be what the movie is ultimately about, but there are too many half-baked ideas competing with each other to allow me to say Okay, it’s about X. And, frankly, there’s an awful lot of pleasure to be had by gazing at tormented bodies in the film for me to wholly believe its feminist message. Before Nina gets the lead role in Swan Lake she looks hopefully at a woman walking toward her at a distance, and sees herself in the face of a stranger. So, she’s looking for her a reflection of herself, evidence of her own existence in other people. I don’t think this is a statement about a woman’s unstable identity; I think it’s what an artistic performer does. And possibly a person grappling with mental illness. What about Lily (Mila Kunis)? Her cheeseburger, ecstasy, and alcohol-fueled night with Nina, leading to empowered club dancing (sarcasm), random dude-kissing, and imagined sexy lesbian action between the two, does…what, exactly? Neither the skeezy artistic director’s advice (masturbate!) nor San Francisco Lily’s trite transgressions work to sexually liberate Nina…or do they? At least they bring her into active conflict with her mother.

Now. Nina lives with a mother who is basically a lunatic. I mean, let’s just say it: Nina’s mother is fucking nuts. Why (in the world of the film) does Nina need to have a mother who is fucking nuts? Couldn’t she have been moderately nuts, like most of us, with contradictions, who acts in moderately selfish ways which can moderately mess up a daughter? That would’ve allowed the themes we’ve discussed to be played out just as intricately and interestingly. How does this character fit into the movie? Taken literally, Nina’s mother is at fault for her child’s problems. As mothers tend to be in films made by men, and as psychiatrists believed in the 1960s (I'm thinking of the concept of the schizophrenogenic mother here--the idea that an oppressive mother could actually cause schizophrenia in her children). While we might be seeing a version of Erica Sayers from Nina’s untrustworthy perspective, what good is it—even if it’s not an accurate representation—for Nina to see her mother this way? Taken metaphorically…what? There’s no feminist reading I can discern in a film that I want to be feminist.


Stephanie's Take:
I completely agree that it might not be useful, or even possible in a film as complicated as Black Swan, to come up with a definitive reading. But I still believe so much is at stake with regards to women and identity and the fluidity of that identity, in a culture that forces women to possess multiple, often contradictory identities.  Maybe I’m giving Aronofsky too much credit, but I disagree with your suggestion that Nina’s literal reflections aren’t a statement about a woman’s unstable identity. 

Yes, this film comments plenty on the artist and how performance can impact an artist’s life, how the artist must take on certain traits to enhance her performance, and how that act might impact her life when she isn’t on stage. However, given the fact that we’re all “performing” our identities to an extent (like the prescribed gender roles we’re taught from birth to perform), it’s worth looking at how Nina, a character whose identity seems so wrapped up in the expectations of those around her, copes—or doesn’t cope—with the pressures of womanhood and what’s required of that particular role.

It’s impossible not to notice Nina’s reflection everywhere. She sees herself reflected in mirrors as she dances, or when she’s reading the word “whore” on the bathroom mirror of the dance studio, or when she sees her face in the subway car windows. And as you mentioned, she sees her face superimposed on the faces of strangers in public—and even in the mirror at her own house, where she and Lily’s faces are superimposed. 

It happens again during the sex scene; Lily’s face becomes Nina’s own face at one point, and we can hear Lily creepily whispering the words of Nina’s mother, “my sweet girl” over and over. Since we learn later that this sex scene is most likely Nina’s hallucination (and I think there’s enough evidence to even make the argument that Lily’s entire existence is a hallucination), it’s useful in interpreting the film to think about why Nina sees Lily, hears her mother’s words, and even sees her own image during a sex scene.

All this swapping of voices and faces (identities, if you will, haha) lead me to read all these people, Erica, Beth (Winona Ryder), and Lily as facets and projections of Nina’s identity. Beth, Thomas’s first “little princess,” is the aging ballerina who gets replaced by Nina, the younger ballerina. Erica, her mother, is the ballerina who slept with her director, got pregnant, and had to end her dancing career as a result. And Lily is the ballerina who embodies everything Nina tries so desperately to find within herself. She’s a carefree, sexual woman who repeatedly threatens Nina’s role in the ballet. Both when Nina is late to rehearsal and when Nina is late to the show’s opening—Lily stands in the background, threatening to take Nina’s place.

Keeping that in mind, it’s interesting that Nina “murders” Lily; on one hand, Nina seeks to absorb Lily’s empowerment, but on the other, the only way she can ultimately accomplish that is by killing it. Since murder is a pretty empowered act, I guess I get that. In fact, I think I liked it. Because Nina basically says Fuck You to the idea that Lily, who represents Nina’s unattainable sexual identity, is separate from herself, her whole self. In that moment, Nina transforms fully into The Black Swan, allowing Lily’s metaphoric death to push Nina to do what she previously thought herself incapable of accomplishing.

You argue that the alcohol-fueled, “imagined sexy lesbian action between the two” does nothing to really sexually liberate Nina. I struggled with this scene in the film probably more than any other scene because it feels exploitative and objectifying in the same way most Hollywood faux-lesbian sex scenes do. But I also believe it’s important to pay attention to all the stuff I mentioned previously. There’s tons of identity-shifting in this scene. Nina’s eventual sexual liberation (if we equate her successful transformation into the Black Swan with sexual liberation) begins here; when identities become interchangeable in this scene, we get the first images of the gooseflesh appearing on Nina’s skin. Something empowering seems to be happening. Whether it’s actual sexual liberation or the first signs of Nina embracing all these facets of herself (Beth, Erica, Lily), it complicates things. But what does it mean?

Well! I’ll go back to my original argument: Black Swan implies that these ideals for women can’t actually exist without women destroying themselves in the process of attaining them. How many identities can we effectively perform before we forget entirely who we are? Women struggle with that in a way that men never will. More often than not, it’s women who have to give up careers for children (Erica). They get pushed out of their professions when they get older (Beth). They’re expected to balance innocence with sexuality and to know when (and when not to) express them (Nina/Lily). And the attempt to balance, express, and suppress these prescribed roles often doesn’t work without having a detrimental impact on women individually and as a whole.

Interestingly, Nina and Lily both “die” in the end. So women in this film end up visibly crazy, hospitalized, or dead. In a less complex film, that would seriously piss me off. But the death and/or disappearance and/or insanity of these women make a larger point: if they’re all separate facets of Nina’s own personality and identity, which I believe they are, it’s necessary to watch each separate character struggle—it reinforces the idea that these performed identities aren’t possible without sacrificing one’s entire self.

You asked: If the Black Swan/White Swan “roles are (metaphoric) unattainable goals, how do we read those final moments?” Good question. It fascinates me most of all that Nina claims, after the White Swan’s suicide, that her performance was perfect. But, it wasn’t. She fell down in the middle of the damn ballet. To a gasping and appalled  audience (not to mention, director). If her “I was perfect” claim applies only to the ballet, then she’s referring only to her performance as the Black Swan; after all, it’s the Black Swan whose dance partner whispers “wow” as she’s walking off stage; it’s the Black Swan whose audience gives her a standing ovation; it’s the Black Swan whose director beams with pride when she leaves the stage.

So yeah, I see Nina as a victim at the end of the film. Because she wasn’t perfect; she was never perfect. The conquering of her role as the Black Swan comes at a great sacrifice to her role as the White Swan (her fall during the ballet and her metaphoric death at the end of it).  The two identities can’t coexist perfectly, as much as she wants them to. In the end, she still hasn’t attained the superhuman ability to perform competing identities for a critical audience. Sure, the audience may have loved Nina’s empowered, sexualized Black Swan, clearly enough to forgive the earlier screw up as the White Swan, but that isn’t surprising if you read the audience as a metaphor for society (why not?), a society that loves more than anything to be seduced by its women.

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We still have more to say! Let the conversation continue in the comments section, and leave links to reviews you've written or read.


Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Calling All Writers!

The Academy Awards air February 27th, and we'd love to have some guest writers review the Best Picture nominees.

We currently need reviews for:
  • Black Swan
  • The Fighter
  • Inception
  • The Kids Are All Right
  • The King's Speech
  • 127 Hours
  • The Social Network
  • Toy Story 3
  • True Grit
  • Winter's Bone

Obviously, some of these films deserve more commentary, in the context of our site, than others. We'd love to have reviews (in some form--check out our different featured styles of reviews) for the above films before the end of February. We welcome cross-posting. If interested in contributing, email us at btchflcks at gmail dot com.

Update: All films have reviewers! Stay tuned for the Best Picture nominee reviews between now and the Oscar ceremony on Sunday, February 27th.

And, for fun, check out the 2010 reviews, too:


    2011 Oscar Nominations

    Best Picture
    • Black Swan
    • The Fighter
    • Inception
    • The Kids Are All Right
    • The King's Speech
    • 127 Hours
    • The Social Network
    • Toy Story 3
    • True Grit
    • Winter's Bone


    Best Actress
    • Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right
    • Nicole Kidman, Rabbit Hole
    • Jennifer Lawrence, Winter's Bone
    • Natalie Portman, Black Swan
    • Michelle Williams, Blue Valentine


    Best Supporting Actress
    • Amy Adams, The Fighter
    • Helena Bonham Carter, The King's Speech
    • Melissa Leo, The Fighter
    • Hailee Steinfeld, True Grit
    • Jacki Weaver, Animal Kingdom


    Best Actor
    • Javier Bardem, Biutiful
    • Jeff Bridges, True Grit
    • Jesse Eisenberg, The Social Network
    • Colin Firth, The King's Speech
    • James Franco, 127 Hours


    Best Supporting Actor
    • Christian Bale, The Fighter
    • John Hawkes, Winter's Bone
    • Jeremy Renner, The Town
    • Mark Ruffalo, The Kids Are All Right
    • Geoffrey Rush, The King's Speech


    Best Director
    • Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan
    • David O'Russell, The Fighter
    • Tom Hooper, The King's Speech
    • David Fincher, The Social Network
    • Joel and Ethan Coen, True Grit


    Best Original Screenplay
    • Another Year, by Mike Leigh
    • The Fighter, screenplay by Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, and Eric Johnson; story by Keith Dorrington, Paul Tamasy, and Eric Johnson
    • Inception, by Christopher Nolan
    • The Kids Are All Right, by Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg
    • The King's Speech, by David Seidler


    Best Adapted Screenplay
    • 127 Hours, by Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy
    • The Social Network, by Aaron Sorkin
    • Toy Story 3, screenplay by Michael Arndt; story by John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, and Lee Unkrich
    • True Grit, by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
    • Winter's Bone, by Debra Granick and Anne Rosellini

    Monday, January 24, 2011

    Ripley's Pick: Winter's Bone

    Winter's Bone
    I first saw Winter's Bone last summer. I remember leaving the theatre feeling that I'd never seen a film quite like the one I'd just watched. The viewing experience had left me mentally exhausted; more than an hour-and-a-half of tension and suspense made me incapable of arguing exactly why the film was so astounding. After watching it again on DVD, I think I can discuss it with more clarity; however, this remains one you must see for yourself.

    Spoilers ahead!

    The Dolly family lives in rural Missouri, in the bleak, eerie, and impoverished Ozarks countryside. Ree Dolly  (Jennifer Lawrence) needs to find her father, who has recently been arrested again for cooking methamphetamine--seemingly the only profession in her community. She's 17, has already left high school to care for her two younger siblings and chronically-depressed mother, and learns that her father put their house and property up as collateral for his bail. She clearly does not live the life of the so-called average American teenage girl; she teaches her siblings to shoot (both to hunt for their food and protect themselves) and skin a squirrel, she gives away their starving horse, chops firewood, and has precious few moments of camaraderie with someone her age--and even in these moments, the film's ominous tone doesn't lift.

    This is a patriarchal world of heightened gender roles, where women operate as shields to protect their men, and have little power independently. Ree, having no one to speak out for or protect her, becomes an investigator, and thus an agitator. Instead of keeping the peace, keeping quiet, and knowing her place, she refuses to allow herself and her immediate family to be the victims of an irresponsible and criminal man--even if he is her father. She visits the homes of people she's known her father to associate with, beginning with a low-level junkie and dealer, and her father's brother, Teardrop (John Hawkes). As she continues her determined climb through the countryside, the men become less accessible as woman after woman warns Ree against pursuing her father, and warns her, implicitly and explicitly, that there will be harsh consequences for asking questions.

    What becomes clear, fairly early in the film, is that her father may be dead. This is, at least, the story her neighbor would have her believe, when he shows her a burnt meth lab. As with all characters in the film, however, he has his own motives. While her father's death may seem like a solution--or the end of the story--it is not. For Ree--and those in her community, if you can call it that--simply knowing her father is dead proves nothing to those ready to seize her home; to them, he's just a criminal on the run from his debts. Small acts of kindness (a joint, small amounts of cash, a borrowed pickup truck from a friend) help Ree along the way, but each is met by the cruelty of people desperate to protect their livelihood. We see a tenuous relationship develop between Ree and her uncle, a man who uses and seems always a breath away from violence, as the cast expands to include the county sheriff, a bail bondsman, and a powerful figure in the local trade. Cruelty and kindness collide in a climax so powerful that I won't give it away here,

    Rarely do films--mainstream ones, at least, with distribution deals and Oscar buzz--depict poverty--real poverty. Our main character has no resources. People in this situation exist in America--whether we like to think so or not. They're not all criminals and they can't all just remove themselves from bad situations by getting a corporate, minimum-wage job. In this film we see a teenage girl navigate a hostile and dangerous world which she had no hand in making. Despite her maturity and toughness, she hasn't turned to "cooking crank" to financially survive, nor has she developed a "taste for it yet" to temporarily escape. Instead, she relies on the charity of neighbors (though we see little altruism from them; every instance is a coded threat, warning, or new debt to repay) and naively hopes join the Army and bring her family along. (We see Ree visit a recruiter in hopes of receiving a signing bonus she's heard about--plenty of money to save her home. The even-handed scene plays straight and with little emotion, but nonetheless breaks your heart.)

    Winter's Bone was shot on location in Christian County, Missouri, with mostly non-professional actors--some of whom went back to regular, blue-collar jobs the day after filming their scenes, which likely adds to its authentic feeling. With a budget of only $2 million, Winter's Bone was written by Debra Granik and Anne Rosellini, and directed by Granik. It has already won several awards--including the Grand Jury Prize and the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, and the Best Ensemble Cast and Best Film Awards at the 2010 Gotham Awards--and has been nominated for numerous more, including seven Independent Spirit Awards (cinematography, director, feature, female lead, screenplay, supporting female, and supporting male), two Screen Actors Guild awards, and a Golden Globe. Oscar nominations come out Tuesday, January 25, and Winter's Bone is expected to garner several nods from the Academy as well (although its odds for winning major awards--Best Picture and Best Director--don't seem great, I'm still pulling for it).

    Watch the excellent trailer below. Even after seeing the film twice, its trailer still gives me chills.



    Friday, January 21, 2011

    Question of the Day: Do We Need a Best Female Director Category?

    Last March, Kim Elsesser wrote an Op-Ed in the NYT called "And the Gender-Neutral Oscar Goes To..." in which she argues for a single acting category. 
    Since the first Academy Awards ceremony in 1929, separate acting Oscars have been presented to men and women. Women at that time had only recently won the right to vote and were still several decades away from equal rights outside the voting booth, so perhaps it was reasonable to offer them their own acting awards. But in the 21st century women contend with men for titles ranging from the American president to the American Idol. Clearly, there is no reason to still segregate acting Oscars by sex. 
    When the piece was published, the typical response was "But then no women would be nominated!" Elsesser makes a good argument for equality, but in an industry so dominated by men and sexist attitudes, don't we still need categories for male and female actresses? Tatiana Siegel of Variety took up the question again last November.

    With the current system of sex-divided categories (and there is a real problem with that kind of division), there are an equal number of men and women garnering attention for their performances. However, in the category for Best Director, only one woman has ever won (Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker), and only three women have even been nominated (Bigelow, Sofia Coppola for Lost in Translation, and Jane Campion for The Piano). Will there be any women nominated this year?
    Here's my question--one that Elsesser sarcastically posed at the end of her editorial, but that I ask sincerely:  

    Do we need a Best Female Director Category?

    Leave your thoughts in the comments!


    Thursday, January 20, 2011

    Oscar Acceptance Speeches, 2004

    Leading up to the 2011 Oscars, we'll showcase the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches by Best Actress winners and Best Supporting Actress winners. (Note: In most cases, you'll have to click through to YouTube in order to watch the speeches, as embedding has been disabled at the request of copyright owners.) 

    Best Actress Nominees: 2004

    Keisha Castle-Hughes, Whale Rider
    Diane Keaton, Something's Gotta Give
    Samantha Morton, In America
    Charlize Theron, Monster
    Naomi Watts, 21 Grams

    Best Supporting Actress Nominees: 2004

    Shohreh Aghdashloo, House of Sand and Fog
    Patricia Clarkson, Pieces of April
    Marcia Gay Harden, Mystic River
    Holly Hunter, Thirteen
    Renee Zellweger, Cold Mountain




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    Charlize Theron wins Best Actress for her performance in Monster.

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    Renee Zellweger wins Best Supporting Actress for her performance in Cold Mountain.

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    Click on the following links to see the nominees and winners in previous years: 19901991199219931994199519961997199819992000, 2001, 2002, 2003


    Wednesday, January 19, 2011

    Guest Writer Wednesday: Boardwalk Empire

    With its first season complete and two Golden Globes under its belt (Best TV Drama and Best Actor in a TV Drama), Boardwalk Empire, HBO's prohibition-era Sopranos/Mad Men hybrid, has gotten plenty of attention. And it's something feminists should be paying attention to as well. Like Mad Men, the show doesn't gloss over the sexist elements of the era, but instead exposes them in both stark contrast and comparison to how we view women in our society today.
    The Peggy Olsen of the series is found in Margaret Schroeder (played brilliantly by Kelly Macdonald), who is wise beyond her era, yet remains limited by her gender. At the start of the series, we see her suffer physical abuse by her husband (so much so that she miscarries, and not for the first time). When she appeals to a wealthy politician (our protagonist Nucky Thompson, played by Steve Buscemi) to find work for her husband, he takes her under his wing, eliminating her abusive husband and setting her up with a job in a fancy dress shop. It is here that we encounter the division of class between the clientele and Margaret, an Irish immigrant whose boss assumes is uneducated and dirty (other ethnic and religious tensions abound in the turf wars between the Irish, Italian, and Greek mobs throughout the season). Soon Nucky takes a romantic interest in Margaret and offers to put her and her children up, though he won't marry her. Margaret must weigh the costs/benefits of this situation (security for her and her children versus her neighbors thinking she's a whore), but in the end she doesn't have much of a choice, like most women in this show and of this era. But despite the boundaries around her, Margaret remains well-read, involved in local politics and with the Women's Temperance Movement, and takes control of her sexuality (in the 1920s, birth control meant douching with Lysol). It is her struggle for both mere survival and to retain her honor in a time when the odds are against her that make her journey and triumphs so satisfying and enjoyable to watch.
    The other female characters are similarly dependent on men, and either try to escape this grip or find power within it. Angela (played by Aleska Palladino), who has a baby with Nucky's protege Jimmy, dreams of running off to Paris with her lesbian lover, but she feels trapped by Jimmy, who overpowers her in every way. Jimmy's mother, Gillian (Gretchen Mol), who had Jimmy young by a much older man, offers to take care of Angela's son for her so that she can have a life of her own. Perhaps Gillian wished someone had offered her the same.
    Though Gillian is a grandmother, she is still very young and works as a showgirl (this is an age where the only jobs for women seemed to be as dancers, prostitutes, or nannies - they either worked in childcare or for the pleasure of men). When Jimmy gets into trouble, Gretchen helps the only way she knows how - by seducing his enemy for information. Nucky's old mistress similarly uses pregnancy as power against a prohibition agent she sleeps with. One could argue that all the women on the show use their sexuality as a type of currency, as there was little other option at the time.
    There also remains the notion that women's reproductive choices were not theirs to control. Nucky chides Margaret for using the Lysol like "any common whore," the prohibition agent tells his barren wife to pray instead of considering an invasive medical procedure, and Jimmy decides without consulting Angela that they should have more children. This backwards thinking, however, is not far from the discussions happening today in which restrictive laws prohibit women from freely controlling their own bodies. 
    NYMag had argued that aside from Margaret's character, all the other women appear to be nude decoration for the HBO premium. Upon further reflection, I've realized that the show doesn't quite yet pass the Bechdel test. For those unfamiliar, to pass the test a show must 1. Have two women, 2. Who talk to each other, 3. About something other than a man. All of Margaret's conversations are about Nucky. She speaks with Nucky's mistress about how they're fighting over Nucky; she speaks with a fellow "concubine" about how to keep Nucky; she even speaks with her temperance leader about whether she should accept Nucky's offer. Even in a scene with Angela and her lover the two women talk about how they couldn't be seen together or Nucky would cut off their money. On the one hand, this proves how so very dependent women were forced to be in this time period. On the other hand, the show's writers could do a better job developing their female characters.
    As for me (and the Golden Globes), I think this show has plenty of potential, especially when it comes to its women. What do you think? Do you watch the show? Do you root for Margaret like you do for Peggy and Joan? Leave your comments below! 
    Amanda ReCupido is a writer and arts publicist living in New York City. She is the author of the blog The Undomestic Goddess and can be found on Twitter at TheUndomestic.

    Tuesday, January 18, 2011

    Oscar Acceptance Speeches, 2003

    Leading up to the 2011 Oscars, we'll showcase the past twenty years of Oscar Acceptance Speeches by Best Actress winners and Best Supporting Actress winners. (Note: In most cases, you'll have to click through to YouTube in order to watch the speeches, as embedding has been disabled at the request of copyright owners.)


    Best Actress Nominee: 2003

    Salma Hayek, Frida
    Nicole Kidman, The Hours
    Diane Lane, Unfaithful
    Julianne Moore, Far From Heaven
    Renee Zellweger, Chicago


    Best Supporting Actress Nominees: 2003

    Kathy Bates, About Schmidt
    Queen Latifah, Chicago
    Julianne Moore, The Hours
    Meryl Streep, Adaptation
    Catherine Zeta-Jones, Chicago



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    Nicole Kidman wins Best Actress for her role in The Hours.


     
    Catherine Zeta-Jones wins Best Supporting Actress for her role in Chicago.


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     See nominees and winners in previous years:  1990199119921993199419951996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002