Category Archives: feminist reviews

Perks of Being a Wallflower

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Right now we are alive and in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.

I always think it’s exciting when books I love are turned into films because it signifies that someone else understands how powerful, beautiful, poignant and amazing this book is and they want to share it with an audience. While I realize that is not always the motivation in Hollywood, in this case I’d believe it to be true considering producer John Malkovich went straight to author Stephen Chbosky to adapt the screenplay and that Chbosky was hired to direct.  It isn’t frequently the norm in Hollywood that a novice director would be given the opportunity to direct a high volume project. Then again, he is a dude.

If you have no relationship to the book, or if you’re not really into movies that reflect reality, you may find this film depressing or even boring. Set in the early 90’s in suburban Pittsburgh, Perks of Being a Wallflower is the story of Charlie (Logan Lerman) a lonely high school freshman recovering from the suicide of his best friend and working through a lifetime of unbalanced emotions. Urged by his therapist to “participate,” Charlie seeks salvation with the help of two new friends, Sam (Emma Watson) and Patrick (Ezra Miller), the guidance of his English teacher (Paul Rudd), and, the ultimate life saving device – music.

While the film did a good job painting the picture of adolescent “outcast” culture it was a little too glossy. Having the author so involved is certainly what saved Perks from being a watered down replica of itself but the film was produced within the “Hollywood machine,” essentially sacrificing some of the creative control that may have lent to it’s authenticity. Another coming of age story set in the mid-90’s, 2008’s The Wackness was a period piece that made me nostalgic for the era in which it was set  and the music triggered as much of a response as the plot and performances. But, the film adaptation of Perks just made me nostalgic for the book. Oh, isn’t that always the case?  Chbosky himself admitted this was one of the most difficult projects he’s worked on:

“It was the most challenging screenplay I’ve ever written, just by the nature of what the book was — a first-person epistolary novel. To turn that into something objective with the same emotional intimacy and emotional catharsis was hard.” (Miami Herald, 9/30/12)

The music for the most part stayed true to the book except for a brief cameo by Cracker’s Low, which was never mentioned in the book and wasn’t released until 1993. This was nullified when Dear God by XTC, a staple of my freshman year in the suburbs of Philadelphia, played a narrator’s role in a significant transitional scene. A letter to God questioning the pain and sorrow in the world, I still sing the opening line to myself when I am feeling particularly hopeless:

Your connection to the characters, and especially Charlie, will ultimately decide how much you enjoy the film and Lerman (Hoot) succeeds in delivering a deeply moving performance. Part of Charlie’s alienation, and woven into the subtext of the film, is the deviation from traditional male behavior. Charlie is emotional, caring, reserved. He’s not an athlete or a Casanova. He is moved by music and literature. We continuously see his admiration of and respect for women – in his support of his sister after he witness her boyfriend slap her and his unconditional love for Sam, regardless of the rumors that tarnish her reputation. And, while dating violence and slut shaming are both serious issues affecting teen girls, the core of the film brings much needed attention to the complicated experience of boys, driven by Charlie and Patrick.

Two of my favorite young actors, Lerman and Miller both offer a unique portrayal of masculinity essential to both of their characters. Miller (City Island) infuses Patrick with a delightful fervor for life and irreverence for his tormentors. How much of is bravado remains unclear until what he is finally given cause to break out.  In one of the most volatile scenes both Charlie and Patrick are caught in a convolution of anger, fear, violence, aggression and survival. When Patrick is beaten and emotionally broken, it is Charlie who comes to his rescue both physically and emotionally.  The tenderness of their relationship is another powerful image for teens to receive.

Perks of Being a Wallflower is certainly not the traditional “teen romp” caliber but these are important characters for young adult audiences. Perks couldn’t be better timed to reflect challenges contemporary teenagers face in their everyday lives and if they only find support and solidarity on film than it’s better than nothing. Truly, the story is timeless and for many us the haunts and angst of adolescence stay with us well into adulthood. The desire to belong, to be valued, to protect the ones we love and of course, the hardest part, to just be happy.

SUPERSTAR!

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 Superstar has just become available on Netflix Watch Instantly. If you have never seen it, please, do yourself the favor of watching one of the most hilarious films in the Saturday Night Live canon. Molly Shannon is at her comic best channeling the spirit of 16-year-old catholic schoolgirl Mary Catherine Gallagher – one of the most memorable characters from her six seasons on SNL.

Will Ferrell co-stars as Sky Corrigan, the coolest guy in school and Mary’s crush.  Of course Sky is an amazing dancer and Ferrell’s goofball sincerity is charming as usual as he pantomimes through a diversity of dance moves throughout the film. He also shows up as God. Ferrell and Shannon came into SNL together, in the mid-90’s resurgence, and their pairings are some of my favorites.

The film is also full of more subtle comedic moments which come from the periphery characters created by a solid ensemble of talented players: Kids in the Hall alum Mark McKinney as Father Ritley, Mary’s exasperated headmaster, the magical Glynis Johns as Mary’s Grandmother and another SNL alum, Harlan Williams, cameos as a dark and mysterious stranger.  My favorite is Emmy Laybourne as Mary’s overzealous best friend, Helen.

Of course I love this movie because it’s really a teen film – a unique and hilarious teen film. Superstar is a romp through the perils of adolescence with enough camp to make it ridiculous but not unbelievable.  Like most young girls in America, Mary dreams of being a “Superstar!” (You know the move). She is exploring her identity and bursting to express herself but does so in awkward and clumsy ways. Her Grandmother has stifled her dreams by forbidding her to perform and insisting she become a businesswomen. At school she is bullied and tormented by mean cheerleaders (Elaine Hendrix is vicious as the queen bee, Evian). Pretty typical adolescence.

But, like many of Shannon’s other characters, Mary prevails. She is a woman who knows what she wants. She holds her own and stands up for herself. She remains true to herself. She continues to fight for her dream. And it’s all pretty freaking funny.

Me Likes You Very Much. i like you too!

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I was introduced to Lauren Barnett via her comic “was that supposed to be funny” which came to me via this awesome blog I was writing for at the time,  Feminist Review. I was immediately hooked by Lauren’s honest and peculiar humor especially when delivered through the thoughts and actions of non-humans. Apples with self-esteem issues, Grapes who love to dance and F bomb dropping Birds. Fuck yeah! Lauren just published a collection; a greatest hits of web comics showcasing the many personalities of birds, fish, fruits, and vegetables. Lauren leaves humans out of it, yet it is the humanity of these characters – their meanness, tenderness, absurdity – will keep you checking her website for the daily new comics.

Warning: There are lots of fucks and shits. Another reason I love it.

Lauren’s based out of NYC but you can get a copy of this collection at Chicago Comics or here.

Girl in Progress

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This movie kind of pissed me off because it put me in a bind that I often find myself in: Story about a teenage girl – awesome! And her relationship with her single, working mom – yes! Directed by a woman – boom! Unfortunately, just like my last relationship, everything looks great on paper but once you’re in it you realize it’s just a big ol’ mess.

This is the story of Aniesdad (Cierra Ramirez) a 15 year old girl and the only child of Grace (Eva Mendes). Grace is a self-absorbed waitress who favors time with a married man (Matthew Modine) over spending time with her daughter – or paying bills, grocery shopping, doing laundry.  In order to detach from her mother completely, Aniesdad is trying to execute her own initiation into adulthood and does so by staging her own coming of age story through culturally significant yet destructive rites of passage.

Ramirez is a refreshing newcomer whose detachment from/desire for her mother’s love is one of the only genuine elements of this film. The actress herself is an actual teenager so maybe this has something to do with the honesty behind her performance. Girl also follows the traditional pattern in young adult female driven stories of the protagonist being disconnected,  or somehow estranged, from her mother. While I recognize that struggling against authority and, more or less, hating your Mom is part of the process of being a teenager, I wish there were more films with positive Mom characters. Mom’s who daughters look up to. Mom’s whom daughters admire, despite their flaws. Mom’s who become better because of their relationship to their children. Save for her 5-minute makeover at the end of the film (which I totally didn’t buy!), Grace is continually selfish and unlikable. Mendes is usually someone I like to watch but here her charm reads as falseness and Grace remains unsympathetic and distant. Writer Hiram Martinez’s attempts to give her some sense of humanity through her struggles at work and fleeting moments of motherly affection don’t translate. This is a film about a struggling single mom the way Bad Teacher was a film about a struggling high school teacher.  Not really. At all. Moments like these make me wonder if it is possible for men to write honest female characters. It doesn’t happen often and certainly didn’t here.

Something I found to be really careless about the film was its attitude towards dating violence. Rated PG-13, and billed as a Comedy/Drama, the target audience for this film is clearly high school girls. Considering that approximately 1 in 5 female high school students report being physically and/or sexually abused by a dating partner, and these numbers are even higher in Latina populations, I think Martinez could’ve opted out of lines like “Becky can’t come to work; she had a fight with a flight of stairs” when referring to one of the waitresses at the restaurant where Grace works. Certainly, director Patricia Riggin could’ve made a different choice. More disturbing than the careless dialogue are the interactions between Tavita (Raini Rodriguez), Aniesdad’s best friend, and the boy who tells her “I’m not your boyfriend no matter what we do in your basement.” He shoves her at one point and grabs Aniesdad at another. It happens so casually and it is just accepted by both the characters. If it’s a subversive choice by the filmmakers, I missed. I just found it upsetting.

Girl In Progress does manage to usurp the tradition of providing young female characters with male role models. Aniesdad seeks guidance from her English teacher; a surprising appearance by Patricia Arquette and Grace is treated with dignity by the wife of the man with whom she’s having an affair. The woman politely and privately lets her know she’s fired yet still acts with empathy towards Aniesdad. This was a refreshing choice even if it was totally unbelievable that Matthew Modine, his character or the real him, would ever end up with either of these women.  And, even though there was very little attention given to heritage or cultural experiences, it was nice to watch a film with some non-white faces.

Overall, the film was much more mature than the creators were prepared for.  It raises the question of some serious issues facing teenagers that can affect the type of adults they become. The film was released on Mother’s Day and I only hope that the mothers who saw this film with their daughters are also having conversations about the realities of coming of age. Telling them that you can’t create or even choose the experiences that make you an adult; it happens when you least expect it and in ways that are harsh, scary, and beautiful. I hope those same mothers, unlike Grace, are allowing their daughters to see their vulnerabilities and their strengths because as we grown-ups know, this life isn’t so easy. And the line between childhood and adulthood isn’t so clearly defined.

Cross posted at LoveYALit

Mirror Mirror

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                                “She wins who calls herself beautiful and
                          challenges the world to change to truly see her.”
                                     Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth
 

There have been countless retellings of the Snow White story over the years. American’s are most familiar with Disneys 1937 animated version based on the Grimm Brothers’ story of Little Snow White.  Snow White was Walt Disney’s first motion picture hence marks the birth of the original Disney Princess. The Snow White story is my favorite of the all the princess tales because it explores a fascinating aspect of female gender privilege and power: beauty. It also is a classic mean girl tale ever so relevant considering the incidence of bullying in our nation’s schools. Mirror Mirror is Disney’s updated version of the classic tale and might be the studio’s first successful attempt at creating a feminist fairy tale.

The basic premise of the story is the same but with a few modernized plot lines: the Queen (Julia Roberts) has manipulated her way into power and is taxing her citizens into poverty in order to maintain her lifestyle. Her obsession with her own vanity and jealousy over the beauty of her step-daughter, Snow White (Lily Collins) drive her to order that the girl be taken to the forest and killed.  Snow White is set free by the huntsman ordered to kill her and left in the woods where she befriends a crew of dwarf bandits. 7 to be exact.  On is the smart one. One is the mean one. One thinks he’s a wolf. And then there’s the creepy one. Seriously, one of the dwarfs hits on her the whole time and it gets a little weird.  Snow White realizes the conditions of her kingdom and enlists the bandits to help return the money to the people. It’s all very Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Oh yeah, and there is a Prince (Armie Hammer – who is just about as cute as his name). Plus, a beast that lives in the woods.

Director Tarsem Singh creates a handful of visually enticing moments but everything evokes the feeling of something we’ve already seen.  Guests of the Queen resemble residents of The Hunger Games’ Capitol. In Singh’s version The Queen walks through her mirror into this odd other world where she enters an igloo made out of straw and converses with her own reflection – which looks like an Austen character painted white. It’s very Alice in Wonderland meets Lord of the Rings. The effect of it distracts from the poignancy of the message – that vanity is our greatest weakness. The evil of Roberts’ Queen is less sinister more jovial heartlessness rooted in sincere delusion – a cross between Meryl Streep in the Devil Wears Prada and any one of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

The best part of Singh’s re-visioning is Snow White herself. Reintroducing the original Disney Princess in the image of what an actual princess might look like – a political figure, heir to a throne, fighting for her country – is a welcome change to the traditional character who had very little personality beyond beauty. In fact, Snow White 2012 is immediately introduced as curious and thoughtful, if not a little naïve. On her 18th birthday she sneaks off castle grounds into the town and returns with opinions and accusations about how the Queen is ruling the kingdom. It marks a significant identity shift, a coming of age moment when she steps into the skin of the woman she is to become: a leader.

Similar to Katniss Everdeen, another brave teen girl on the silver screen right now, this Snow White is not a helpless child or a detached beauty queen. She doesn’t frolic around the woods singing and chatting up woodland animals until her Prince comes to rescue her. For both of these girls, beauty, as well as romance, is a luxury.  It’s just a distraction from the reality of their lives – survival, protection and helping their country. It is a powerful message for both girls and women; a reminder that we can easily become our own Evil Queen so committed to our vanity that we have less time, confidence and energy to do what’s really important in our lives.

Cross posted at Sadie Magazine.

Note: If you are interested in another unique perspective on Snow White try author Gregory Maguire’s adaptation,  Mirror Mirror.

Katniss Everdeen: Girl

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Adrienne Rich died today. I saw the news as I was editing and preparing to post this article. The following quote informs exactly what I was exploring when writing this piece and what I seek to communicate to all the girls out there on the verge of losing themselves and those who may never find out.

“No woman is really an insider in the institutions fathered by masculine consciousness. When we allow ourselves to believe we are, we lose touch with parts of ourselves defined as unacceptable by that consciousness.”

The Hunger Games debuted the first of the trilogy’s film adaptations last weekend to record-breaking success. It had the highest grossing opening weekend for a film that wasn’t a sequel. The top two are Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 and The Dark Knight, which makes THG the highest grossing opening weekend for a film with a female protagonist! I have been doing a lot of thinking, talking and reading about THG and I am writing this because I am disappointed in the lack of discussion around gender. Many are celebrating Katniss for being a gender-neutral character and the conversation seems to be defining gender-neutral as meaning boys like her, too. In order for this character to be gender-neutral it would have to not matter that she is a girl. And, to the citizens of Panem, or in the Arena, maybe it doesn’t. But, for American audiences, it does. And here’s why.

1. Female protagonists are few and far between

In both literature and film males vastly outnumber female protagonists. Studies have shown that, while females regularly view movies with male leads, males are less likely to view films with a female lead. From personal experience, as someone who seeks out female driven stories, I can say I have read way more books with interesting female characters than seen films, especially in the teen genre.  Considering the harmful effect media images have on girls specifically, it is extra important that Katniss has become a film character accessible to girl viewers.

2. Katniss is a girl created by a girl

Just as it is for characters, gender disparity is present in the creation of these characters. Men out number women in all areas of publishing as well as producing, directing and writing films. This has resulted in what researchers have coined the “male gaze” meaning all characters, whether male or female, are created from the male point of view and satisfy a heteronormative masculine desire. Men and women have different experiences in the world that are directly related to their gender and this makes their perspective vastly different. A hero is defined as an ordinary person in extraordinary situation. When creating a hero Suzanne Collins chose a girl to be that extraordinary person and in doing so created an entirely different narrative. A girl’s story.  The more these stories are told the more our ideas about gender and gender roles change and then maybe it really won’t matter that she’s a girl.

Note: Suzanne Collins also wrote the screenplay – double bonus for Hollywood!

3. Katniss redefines “girl”

The cultural standard of human behavior is defined by the behavior of men. This is something feminist scholars, activists and others work to disrupt however we still exist in a reality where woman is defined as “other” and “different.” It is usually these differentiating characteristics that we devalue. Because Katniss is a girl every time she operates outside a traditional female assigned behavior she challenges a stereotype and every time she participates it adds value to the female experience. It also fully reflects one of the primary tenets of feminism: the freedom to choose. When we put a girl like Katniss on the screen – one who is tough, resilient, strong, caring, loyal, loving, protective, responsible, focused – she creates a new image in which girls can see themselves. She also presents a new image in which boys see girls –as individuals worthy of being friends with rather than sexual objects for them to play with.

4. Katniss is a fighter

I am a big believer in teaching girls to fight (and NOT WITH OTHER GIRLS!) Now, you may hear this and think of a physical response. And you know what, sometimes that is part of it. What I am really talking about is inspiring the fight inside a girl to be brave, to be strong, and to persevere. As a culture, we teach that to boys but we teach girls to depend on someone else, to let someone else fight for them. Or we teach them not to care. We distract them with things like clothes, make-up, and boyfriends. Katniss learned to fight out of necessity but she never compromises her integrity when doing so. In fact, being a girl, influences not only how she fights (with her head and her heart) but also what she is fighting for (ultimately, freedom for Panem and all its citizens).

5. Katniss is motivated by love

An essay by Mary Borsellino had me thinking about Katniss as a character who is motivated by love and the political implications of those choices. Because love has traditionally been assigned as a female emotion, a female character has more agency to act with love then a male character. When they do, it activates a non-traditional power source to which women have access and thus the potential to instigate change. This translates to the real world as well but, as history has shown us, women are often afforded more opportunity when following the dominant pattern of success (if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em). This is usually because female associated behaviors such as love, compassion, relationships are also seen as weaknesses. However, successful leaders who usurp this model have often been male such as Ghandi and MLK Jr.  Because she is driven by love – supporting her family, honoring Rue’s death, saving Peeta’s life – Katniss emulates a new way of doing that disrupts the culture of competition that measures success by individual achievement rather than what is good for the whole. Because she succeeds, her story tells us that it’s OK love and, on another level, that it is OK to be a girl. Both strong messages that we could all stand to be reminded of more often.

The thing is, Katniss Everdeen is a unique representation of girlhood that is far more common than Hollywood would have you believe.  Her presence in the pop cultural landscape is important, especially in a medium that legions of teens have access to, because she is changing the way we view youth, culture and gender.

And, yes, it matters that she’s a girl.

drew barrymore is my big sister

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This essay was originally published by Under the Gum Tree.

When I was eleven years old and about to enter seventh grade, I moved in with my dad. He traveled frequently and when he was in town he was working or out playing music. I didn’t have an older sibling to provide guidance, my mom and I barely spoke and the girls at school were, well, bitchy. I spent a lot of time alone. But my dad had cable, and my room had a TV and VCR. I filled tape after beta tape with movies.

I grew up swooning over the boys in Newsies, and learning how to navigate mean girls and psychotic boyfriends from Heathers. I began to understand I wasn’t the only one desperate for a voice when I heard “Happy Harry Hard-on” broadcast over pirate airwaves in Pump Up the Volume. I ached with compassion for Trey and cried for days after Ricky got shot in Boyz n the Hood, and I still find film a medium for exploring human nature and my own personal life experiences. I seek out stories with characters I can relate to, especially women. Characters with depth and humanity, living the everyday struggle to find some sense of understanding in their world.

Characters like those often played by Drew Barrymore, who I adore. It stems from narcissism—I see myself in her and not just in the “you look just like the girl from ET” kind of way. Youthful fascination (in middle school an entire bedroom wall of mine covered in her Guess ad campaign) developed into adult admiration as I’ve watched her choices on screen. A distant peer, Drew feels like the big sister I could’ve had.

Drew is an anomaly in Hollywood. She uses roles to explore herself rather than fit someone else’s image of her. Watching her in Poison Ivy introduced me to a deeper understanding of my own sexuality and the type of power it affords. And the roles she continued to inhabit were a little edgy and off the grid: the free spirited, but suicidal Casey in Mad Love, and the pregnant Holly fleeing an abusive relationship in Boys on the Side.

More recently Drew has gracefully navigated Hollywood, attaining power behind the camera as a producer and setting a bold example for girls in the media, even thirty-three-year-old girls. I identify with her quest to be herself, to find love and stability in a fragile industry. If I could, I would call her up to talk about boys and raid her closet.

I’ve related to Drew in more ways than one over the years, but never more so than as Erin Langford in 2009’s Going the Distance. Playing opposite her boyfriend at the time, Justin Long, Drew produced this ultra modern romance between a bi-coastal couple. The film itself is hilarious and at times painfully realistic. Within the first five minutes of the film, Erin’s personal struggle is presented to the audience: She leaves a meeting with her editor and quips to her co-worker, “I’m thirty-one and an intern. I’m getting wasted.”

Drew’s protagonist is the most refreshing aspect of the film is because she is an honest reflection of so many modern women trying to figure out where they fit into the world—something I have been trying to do for most of my adult life.

I came out of grad school at the age of twenty-nine with an MA in Women’s & Gender Studies. It was also 2008 and the worst economic climate since the Depression. I spent my days applying for jobs all over the country and my nights serving pizza and beer to college kids and my former professors.

One night after the dinner rush had died down I was out back with Kirsten, a single mother of two with a douche of an ex-husband trying to finish her undergrad, and Jamie, whose DUI kept her financially chained to our small yet affordable town. We copped a squat against a pile of firewood and passed around a joint taking a brief respite from whining children and obnoxious locals.

Back inside I had a new table. Seated at it was not just a former professor, but the woman who had been director of the WGS program my first year. In my role as Grad Assistant she was, for all intents and purposes, my boss. Although my role was supposed to be program support and development, I spent most of my hours on her clock scanning documents for her classes and organizing mountains of research in her office. She spent the past year on research leave in China. So she wasn’t around to observe the program initiatives I created; she hadn’t read my research or seen me graduate with honors. But there she was at my table, ready to witness my exceptional beer-pouring and pizza-serving skills.

“Alicia! I didn’t know you were still in town! And you work here? We love it here! What have you been doing since graduation?” she said, half-rising from her chair to give me an awkward side hug.

You’re looking at it, lady, I wanted to say. And follow it up with a big, Thanks for nothing, since I had recently started blaming my professors and the university for not being more helpful in getting me a job. Instead I launched into a monologue desperate to prove that I was doing “something” with my life. That I wasn’t just a waitress.

“Oh I’ve applied for a ton of jobs just had an interview with Girls Inc. and another coming up with the YWCA and this is just to pay the bills so I have my days free to look for work and I’m still considering a Ph.D. oh and have you read my blog? Trying to get a paper published and still plugging away with my girls programs and workshops.”

Let me tell you, there is nothing like serving pizza to your Feminist Theory professor to make you seriously doubt the merit of your education. When I wasn’t applying for jobs or researching Ph.D. programs, I was trying to write and blog in order to fuel myself creatively but instead I fell deeper into a depression. Every promising interview led to a rejection. Tons of cover letters went unanswered and every day my self-esteem deteriorated a little more. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t talented enough. I was beginning to believe what the employment world was telling me: I wasn’t valuable and neither was my degree.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend and I were living together. Instead of getting comfortable with the one aspect of my life that provided some stability and leaning on him for support and unconditional love (both of which I desperately needed), I started to resent him. He was teaching class, taking class, doing research, all in pursuit of a Ph.D. in Economics that was sure to land him a high paying job (offers were coming in before he’d even begun his dissertation). And he was happy. Genuinely. We were in love, had a great house, lots of friends. But I was miserable. I had lost my student status and, without a career that I felt invested in, I was just a girl in relationship. A girl who needs a guy. A girl who couldn’t make it on her own.

In late September he and I spent a weekend away for a friend’s wedding. It was the most fun we’d had in months and the first time I had glimpses of happiness since graduating. It felt like maybe I could do it. I could settle into being someone’s girlfriend, and maybe even someone’s wife. But as soon as I set foot in our house I felt like I was being suffocated. When he tried to put his arms around me, my skin crawled. I felt like I was going to burst into flames. I got in the shower, sat down in the tub and sobbed. It hurt so much. All of it. The fear. The confusion. The loss. The realization that I couldn’t stay with him any longer and the sadness of that truth.

“I can’t do it anymore,” I said. “I can’t be your girlfriend anymore.”

I didn’t even know why.

In Going the Distance, Erin struggles with her relationship, one that is also motivated by work and her sense of contribution to the world. She meets Garrett while interning in New York, but shortly after returns to finish her studies in California. Her hope of returning to NYC for a full time job is crushed when her editor reveals that the paper recently laid off 100 employees. When offered a job at a paper in San Francisco, Erin is faced with choosing to pursue the career she has worked so hard for, or maintaining the relationship that barely survived across the country.

I chose to give up my relationship out of the fear that it would prevent me from having a career or freedom to pursue it. Erin’s choice is to give up her career opportunity out of fear it will cost her the relationship. Attempting to find the balance between career and relationship is a common plight for modern women. It’s easy to forget that women have been active members of the workforce for a mere forty years, which is certainly not long enough to counter an eternity of gender role development.

Women are still plagued by a societal expectation that equates our worth to our love life, and that creates an enormous pressure to be in a relationship. It was that pressure that made me end my relationship in the ultimate act of resistance. That same pressure that makes Erin decide to not take the job for the sake of her relationship.

In the end, with the support of her partner, Erin stays in California and takes the job. But, because life isn’t a movie, I can’t say how my story will turn out. Even though it cost me a relationship, I chose to move on in search of more opportunity. And every time I watch Drew in this film, I feel a little bit better about who I am and the choices I’ve made. When I see a character like Erin, I see a woman who, like me, is doing the best she can in the best way she knows how. Even if that sometimes means getting wasted.

Read my review of Going the Distance here.

Welcome to…Girls Town

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“What are the words do you do not yet have? What do you have to say? …for it is not difference that immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences that need to be broken.”    – Audre Lorde

Patti (Lili Taylor), Angela (Bruklin Harris), Emma (Anna Grace) and Nikki (Aunjanue Ellis) are best friends on the cusp of graduating high school when suddenly, and for seemingly no reason, Nikki commits suicide. Heartbroken and confused the girls seek out a reason for their friend’s death and in the pages of her journal discover that she had been raped. The rest of the film documents each girls’ personal struggle and their cohesive desire for retaliation.

This film is special for many reasons the primary being the honest way it confronts rape and the way it effects each girl individually as well as in the larger cultural narrative. No one person can speak about rape it in a way that is all inclusive but the Girls Town script is fresh, organic and likely to strike a chord with many female viewers (Note: Many of the scenes were improvised earning Taylor, Harris and Grace writing credits in addition to Denise Caruso and Jim McKay). As a director Jim McKay’s understanding of, or at least respect for, the repercussions of this type of violence is communicated by creative and powerful cinematic choices. So often we see sexual attacks on the screen and it is painful, almost unnecessary, to watch. McKay opts to leave out the details of Nikki’s rape but opens his film with a monologue of sorts: The camera follows Nikki as she walks down the street in her neighborhood and instead of words or music we hear the sounds of her struggle during the attack. This poignant foreshadowing immediately connects us to Nikki. More importantly it reflects the deeply psychological effects rape has upon an individual: Is this what she hears in her head? What does she see when she closes her eyes? How can she live with this secret?

The culture of silence around rape is immense, but fragile. Which is why it crumbles so easily once its been pierced. The discovery of Nikki’s rape leads Emma to admit that she was also raped…by her boyfriend. This sets off an intense discussion among the girls about their own relationships with men and the choices and responsibilities their gender holds them accountable for.  The reality is stark and aptly summed up by Patti who bluntly responds to Emma’s admission: “What did you expect? They want to have sex with you; you don’t want to have sex with them their going to fuck you anyway. You call that rape and I’ve been raped by pretty much every guy I been with.” It’s a hard truth to hear especially because it reflects a sad reality. So, let me follow it up with another pertinent truth; one that is much less heard in the dominant narrative, by the amazing Jess Valenti: “[Being] responsible has nothing to do with being raped. Women don’t get raped because they were drinking or took drugs. Women do not get raped because they weren’t careful enough. Women get raped because someone raped them.”

This conversation between the girls introduces the anger that has lived inside them that this event has now given voice to. In the image of a GenX Foxfire they begin to confront the violence they are subjected to and the people who perpetrate it. As exciting and important as it is to see these girls become active agents in their own lives, it was equally valuable to watch the girls struggle with their anger and how to move through it towards a place of deeper insight. The most interesting reflection of this process is when Patti directly confronts a guy who is verbally harassing her on the street. When she runs into him again he addresses her respectfully, apologizes, and owns his behavior. Relating the story to her friends she is met with resistance and cynicism about his sincerity to which Patti replies, “He listened to me.”  Privelege is hard to resist and accountability is, unfortunately, is not a common trait in Americans. However, attending to these issues on screen is reflective of a cultural shift that is necessary for evolution.

As I said, this film is special. For giving voice to a cultural silence, for showing girls being angry and brave and hurt and sad and powerful and finally, for sharing an element of healing imperative to our future.

Cross posted at Love YA Lit.

50/50

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First things first – Spoiler alert. This film is based on a true story about a twenty something guy, Adam, who is diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. The guy lived to write a book about his experience so you know it’s going to end well. Um, well enough? He survives. This doesn’t make the film any less moving. It’s not sad because he gets cancer or happy because he survives it. It’s a journey through and beyond all of those emotions as well as the dynamics of relationship and the truth about humanity.

Let’s get straight to the point. This movie was brilliantly cast and impeccably directed. As if any of us needed another reason to love Joseph Gordon Levitt. Jesus. Who knew this child sitcom star was going to grow into one of the most interesting actors of his generation who continues to choose roles that rip into the hearts of everyday people. But, color me surprised, it was Seth Rogen’s Kyle that really brought this movie home for me. Not because this character was a stretch for him – he’s pretty much the same obnoxious asshole he is in every movie. But because this time it had purpose and a noble purpose to boot. Every person needs a friend like Kyle – someone who will treat you the same even when everything is changing, someone who will kick your lying, cheating, skank of a girlfriend/boyfriend out of your house and, above all, someone who will respond with honesty when you tell them the worst news of your life:

Unlike another recent page to screen adaption, The Help, where some of the most poignant moments were lost in the director’s explanation, 50/50 director Will Raiser allows space for the unsaid. His awareness of the complexities of Adam’s diagnosis, for Adam himself and those around him, as well as the larger narrative around the medical industry, are attended to with graceful subtlety. As a 27 year-old who doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs and exercises regularly Adam is beyond baffled by his diagnosis, which is delivered by his doctor in medical jargon and sans eye contact. It’s a moment, an experience, that can’t be fully described or understood only felt. Reiser has an astute grasp on the ways comprehension and language fail and invites us into Adam’s head using only a song:

The rest of the film evolves from this moment. Kyle’s fear for his friend is apparent yet masked by humor and Rogen nails this delivery in the way that only he can. His performance is perfectly juxtaposed by JGL’s straight man who, thanks to the stark humbleness of the actor’s portrayal, is anything but boring. The most interesting part was watching Adam’s walls come down and the way his world shifts because of it.

The Help

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When Callie Khouri sold the rights to her first screenplay, Thelma & Louise, her intent was to direct the film. Her lack of experience, and most likely a good bit of sexism, led the studios to enlist Ridley Scott, a revenue producing sure thing. It was a disappointing moment for women in Hollywood but the result was a contemporary masterpiece that created two of the most revered feminist icons in film, as well as a site for witnessing general girlie badass-ness. Who knows what kind of film it would have been if there had been a different director? I was left pondering this same question after viewing The Help, a film whose main flaw is the inexperience of its director.

Before being published, Kathryn Stockett’s novel was rejected from nearly 60 publishers – followed by harsh and conflicting feedback from literary critics – so it is no wonder that Stockett called on her best friend Tate Taylor to direct the film. The Help, which has remained on the NY Times Best Sellers list since its debut in 2009, is similar to Thelma & Louise in that it’s a well written and uniquely touching story about everyday women struggling against gender role boundaries and systematic oppression. But where Scott enlivened Khouri’s work as a raw and unapologetic portrait of the reality of resistance, Tate’s film is a mild mannered snapshot of a deeply complicated era. It’s a Civil Rights* story Hollywood style – all dolled up and ready for its close-up.

Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone) is an anomaly in Jackson, Mississippi*. The only member of her peer group to actually have graduated Ole Miss*, as opposed to dropping out and getting married, she returns home with goal of becoming a writer. Disturbed by the racist agenda of her friend Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard) and the mysterious departure of the maid by whom she was raised, Skeeter sets out to interview “the help” and expose the true nature of life in Jackson.

The challenge of making a mainstream film about gender, race and class is that Hollywood is itself sexist, racist and elitist. Studio bureaucracy, and perhaps the PG-13 rating, may have kept Tate from delving into the darker parts of Stockett’s story (pun intended) and thus sacrificing some of its more pertinent truths. What never fully comes across in this rendering is how dangerous it is for Abileen (Viola Davis) and Millie (Octavia Spencer) the two maids who have agreed to share their stories with Skeeter. In Stockett’s novel, the violence sneaks up you as it did for many during this painful time in our history. Leaving many of the violent moments out of the film was a good choice for making The Help more accessible and more appealing, especially to a white audience. It also makes the film a little less poignant and a little more trite.

The most compelling part of the film is the relationships between the women as they each struggle for a sense of identity, community, and morality. Its greatest success is the stellar performances by an ensemble of top-notch actresses whose resumes belie the traditional placement of women in film. Viola Davis is especially sublime as Abileen offering more in one look than a page worth of dialogue. But, the most effective transition from page to screen is Jessica Chastain’s embodiment of Celia Foote. From a part of the country too poor to be racist and with a bombshell’s body, Celia’s kindness marks her as a threat to both the maid whose friendship she desires and the white women she longs to be accepted by. Chastain dynamically circumvents stereotype in her portrayal of Celia’s tenderness towards Millie while being defeated by her own ostracism. It is at one time inspiring and heartbreaking.

The Help is an important film because it yields tremendous potential to dialogue about the many ways ordinary people affected revolutionary change in our country. Go see it and then talk about it – preferably with someone who was alive during the 60’s. Then read the book.

*Civil Rights – http://faculty.smu.edu/dsimon/change-civ%20rts.html

*Jackson, MS – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Craig_Anderson

*Ole Miss – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ole_Miss_riot_of_1962